HISTORICAL FICTION — SPECULATIVE FICTION
Recovering The Ancestral Estate Along The Somme River
Chapter Seventeen — Marcel returns to his ancestral home.
The world was turned upside down when Guillaume’s son, Marcel de Longpré led the last of the family back into France. Rather than return to the Somme River valley in the summer of 1361, Marcel took the family to his uncle’s estate in Saint Ghislain. Most of his uncle’s family had survived the plague in the forests with Marcel’s family.
Once the plague had passed, his uncle returned home as there was no threat to either his estate or his nobility. Once Marcel’s family was safely encamped, Marcel was able to persuade his uncle to go with him to see what the situation was back in Longpré-les-Corps-Saint. There was a need to see what remained of the family’s holdings.
“There’s so many empty houses,” Marcel spoke with sadness to his uncle and the priest whom they met at the church which still held the relics his ancestor had donated almost two hundred years earlier.
“The church is also suffering,” the priest offered. “Only two of our clerics survived the pestilence, and now they have also died in the past year. The plague took more than half our townspeople. Without the leadership of the Seigneur de Longpré, the people have not have a reason to stay.”
“I thought that the Seigneur was removed from his estate by the Church?” Marcel remarked in confusion. “Was this not the case, Monsieur le Curé?”
“No, not at all. There was misinformation which had been believed, was revealed as false witness. When the Church discovered that the knights who had petitioned for the Seigneur’s removal from the roll of nobility, had designs on the seigneury for their own family, the Seigneur’s name was cleared.”
“If only we had known,” Raymond de Saint Ghislain explained to the priest, “My cousin would have returned. He died in exile. This is his son Marcel, the heir to the de Longpré seigneury.”
“God be praised!” exclaimed the young priest. “This is the best news for all of us. Perhaps now we can recover some of what we have lost.” The priest had clasped Marcel’s hand in his while smiling. Together we can have our church and community become as bright as it ever was in the past. Perhaps, even better.”
The priest, Father Christophe, went on to explain that a few taxes had continued to be collected on orders from the King. Some of those taxes were assigned to the church as had been the case in the past, some of the taxes were set aside for the Seigneur’s return, and the bulk of the taxes were sent on to the King as required. Taking the two men into the chancery, he located the book detailing the monies being held in trust.
“With this money, I can put people to work,” exclaimed Marcel. “We could even help families with putting their lives back together. This will become our work, Father.”
Over the next several decades, the population of the seigneury began to swell again. Hope had instilled a renewed passion for life. Even the interruptions of scattered battles between English and French forces seemed to bypass their town. In the periods between the sporadic battles between the French and English, life became more dangerous as those soldiers turned to looting and general mayhem.
The relationship between Marcel and the priest had become mutually beneficial. For the priest, he had been able to add the authority of the Seigneur to his projects. For Marcel, it gave a camouflage which allowed him to continue to honour the family contract with their Celtic community.
Marcel did what his father had done when he was almost a man, initiating his sons into the Celtic world. His eldest son, Joseph-Marcel refused to acknowledge what he witnessed as anything but witchcraft. His second son Pascal, accepted the mantle of responsibility that had been held for three hundred years. Marcel felt relief with the knowledge he had somehow been able to pass on these duties.
Life at home was stormy. His wife, Lady Marie-Ange, had turned to the church almost as soon as they had regained the Chateau and noble status in the community. Like her son, Joseph-Marcel, she blamed her in-laws and Marcel for the suffering they had endured in exile deep in a foreign country’s forest. Marcel was banished from her bed, and even civil discourse was non-existent when they found themselves face-to-face with no house guests present.
In the third year following their return to the family estate, Marie-Ange became easier to live with. Father Christophe had become a frequent visitor to the chateau. Finding Marie-Ange open to the idea of having her children learn more about the Word of God and the Church, he spent many hours teaching the children.
It was due to Father Christophe’s efforts and influence that Joseph-Marcel had chosen to enter into the service of the Church. Marcel saw what was happening, but didn’t interfere. He valued the positive changes in his wife’s relationship to him.
Every once in a while, Marie-Ange would relent from the banishment of Marcel from her bed. And invariably whenever she allowed him into her bed, another baby soon followed. And then, despite her improved moods, their conjugal life ceased to exist completely.
Marie-Ange blamed him for her lack of interest in sex claiming that he was unfaithful to her with servant girls and any other woman who had her eyes set on securing favours from the great lord. For the first years they were back, Marcel had been unfaithful to his wife. However, once she allowed him back into her bed, infrequent as that was, he didn’t take his needs elsewhere.
He didn’t realise it at the time, but with Father Christophe’s presence in the house which had begun only months before Marie-Ange relented. It was his son, Pascal who confronted him with what was happening in the house.
“Papa, how could you be so blind?” Pascal uttered in complete frustration as the two were making the late spring survey of the seigneury. As they rode their horses between Long and Étoile, the needed privacy that Pascal had sought for this needed conversation.
“What are you talking about, Pascal? Blind about what?”
“About Maman and the priest. The priest is a devil. You know that the two of them have been fucking. Not only that, but …”
“How dare you say that about your mother,” Marcel shouted in anger at this son. If he hadn’t been on his horse, Marcel knew that he would have struck his son for those words.
“All the kids know, Papa. The priest hasn’t exactly been what you could call discreet about putting his dick in her.”
Marcel was so furious with his son, so troubled with what had been said, that he turned his horse and stormed off at a gallop to return home and confront his wife. He had suspected but had refused to allow such dark thoughts to tarnish the image he had for the mother of his children.
Previously
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