In The Claws of the Monster

By EDUARDO BERDUGO

After the Piennes’ wedding, the Constable claimed his “right of the lord,” also known as “right of the first night,” which was believed to be a feudal lord’s legal privilege in me-dieval Europe, to have sexual relationships with vassal wom-en, especially on their wedding night.
After losing a battle for his king, the man became drunk and angry. He brutally raped her with severe trauma. Lady Joan of Piennes nee Bouvier was a twenty-one-year-old beau-ty. She was repeatedly subjected to sexual assault shortly af-ter losing her virginity, brutally beaten until dawn, and thrown outside the castle like garbage.
The Lord of Piennes, Antoine d’Halluin, created in 1520, stood outside the opulent mansion waiting for her. He took her to the wet nurse’s residence after getting over his initial shock, but he never stopped grieving. The wet nurse looked after her pregnancy until the day her daughter was delivered when she passed away.
The people of the town and everybody else were unaware that she was the Constable’s daughter, the two sons’ half-sister.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781312093126

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ISBN: 978-1-312-09312-6 In the Claws of the Monster E-book

Any references to historical events, real people, or places are fictitious. Names, characters, and places are products of Michel Zévaco, a French journalist, novelist, publisher, film director, and anti-clerical and anarchist activist. This tome has been translated, corrected, and enhanced for English readers.

Tamakum arranged the front cover image.

Book design by Tamakum.

Printed by Lulu.com, Inc., in the United States of America.

First printing edition 2023.

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Table of Contents

The Two Brothers

Midnight

The Glory of the Name

The Fraternal Oath

Louise

The Prisoner’s Return

The Knight of Pardaillan

The Road to Paris

The Immolation

The Lady in Mourning

Galaor Pipeau and Hail

The Cul-de-sac

Vox Populi Vox Dei

The Queen of Navarre

The Three Ambassadors

A Pagan Ceremony

The Tiger on the Prowl

Catherine of Medici

The Queen Mother

The Marshal of Damville

The Two Brothers

The house was modest in size, having only the first floor and a simple exterior. A tall, old man with white hair and one of those gruff faces worn by commanders who had survived the war epics of King Francis I was sitting in an elaborate armchair near an open window.

The Montmorency, a solemn feudal castle that stood proudly against the blue sky in the distance, caught the attention of the elderly man, who was saddened. He suddenly turned his head, uttered a loud wordless curse, and lifted his chest. Where is my daughter? He wondered.

The servant cleaning the living room responded, The young lady went to gather maguetas in the forest.

A striking look of compassion lit up the elderly man’s brow, and softly, he smiled while muttering, Oh yes! It is real. Spring is here. The scent of wildflowers permeates the hedges. Every tree has flowers now. Everyone sings and laughs. There are flowers everywhere but my noble and chaste daughter Joan. You are the loveliest and purest flower of all.

Then his eyes stared back at the formidable silhouette of the royal mansion crouched on the hill like a monster of stone lying in wait.

Everything I despise is there, he said. He shouted. That’s where the force that murdered me is! Yes, the greed of the Constable has left me, the Lord of Piennes, master of a whole county not too long ago, to live in this lowly corner of the earth nearly miserably! What say you, insanity? He seeks a way to drive me out of my last haven. Who can tell if my daughter still has a house tomorrow where she may seek refuge? Oh, Joan, you might have picked your final bouquet today! Through the lines of the hopeless face, silent tears flowed.

He suddenly turned pale as a rider in black dismounted from his horse in front of the house. The rider then entered and bowed to him.

Oh no, there’s Montmorency’s bailiff! [In medieval times, the bailiff served as a common judge in various lordships in the crown of Aragón.] The elderly man yelled.

The man in black stated forcefully, Lord of Piennes, I received a document from my lord, the Constable, that you must heed immediately. The bailiff continued, My task is ignoble Lord of Piennes. The document I refer to is a decree issued by Parliament yesterday on Saturday, April 25, 1553.

A decree from parliament‽ The Lord of Piennes muffles an expletive exclamation to himself before standing up and crossing his arms. Speak, Sir, with what new calamities wound me the Constable’s rage now? Tell me, let’s go!

In a low, humbling voice, the bailiff said, Sir, according to the decree, you are illegally occupying Margency’s domain. King Louis XII overstepped his authority when he gave you ownership of this land, including the castle town’s prairies and forests. You have a month to return them to the House of The Montmorency.

The Lord of Piennes turned incredibly pale without moving. He wailed sobbing, Oh, King Louis XII and Francis Ⅰ, rise from your graves and see me, an elderly soldier who gave his life and spilled his blood on forty battlefields reduced to begging for a morsel of bread on the streets of France. A small lark sang, perched on a blooming plum tree branch outside.

The Lord of Piennes’ cries of anguish commoved the bailiff who left the decree with the deadly verdict on the table visible. He consented, looked for a way out, and walked away quietly.

Then, the house filled with the sorrowful wails of the Lord of Piennes. My daughter, too? My child? By Joan? I have no place to put my daughter! Joan will not have any bread to eat! Montmorency! You and your descendants be damned,

as he shook his fists in the direction of the castle. After unleashing angry fire from his eyes, he vanished.

The catastrophe was awful. Emergency was all that remained of the ancient glory of the man under Roguery laws, which had been his since the time of Luis XII. He sought safety in that tiny enclave in the Constable’s territory when his money began to crumble. Because of this, his daughter Joan, his passion, and his ideal were the only happiness that kept him alive.

Margency’s pitiful earnings would shield the young lady from any slights.

The act of Parliament signaled the start of a most flagrant and dreadful anguish for Joan of Piennes and her father; now, all was lost!

***

After the Piennes’ wedding, the Constable claimed his right of the lord, also known as right of the first night, which was believed to be a feudal lord’s legal privilege in medieval Europe, to have sexual relationships with vassal women, especially on their wedding night.

After losing a battle for his king, the man became drunk and angry. He brutally raped her with severe trauma. Lady Joan of Piennes nee Bouvier was a twenty-one-year-old beauty. She was repeatedly subjected to sexual assault shortly after losing her virginity, brutally beaten until dawn, and thrown outside the castle like garbage.

The Lord of Piennes, Antoine d’Halluin, created in 1520, stood outside the opulent mansion waiting for her. He took her to the wet nurse’s residence after getting over his initial shock, but he never stopped grieving. The wet nurse looked after her pregnancy until the day her daughter was delivered when she passed away.

The people of the town and everybody else were unaware that she was the Constable’s daughter, the two sons’ half-sister.

***

Joan had just turned sixteen and appeared perfectly formed to please the eyes, delicately slender and exuding a stunning elegance. She was like a bright spring day, graceful like a wild rose swaying in the mist. In other words, she was a replica of her mother.

She went to keep her date on that Sunday, April 26, 1553, at the same time as she would have on any other day. She strolled through the chestnut trees that encircled Margency.

Dusk had fallen.

Love smelled fragrantly in the crisp spring air. Would I dare to tell him? Yes, I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll share with him this ambivalent secret so wonderful and dreadful." Joan quickly walked while placing her palm over her heart.

Suddenly, she was embraced by two large, powerful arms.

You at last!

A tender mouth reached out to hers.

You’re my beloved.

My Francis! My beloved!

What’s wrong, honey? Why do you tremble?

Francis, pay attention! Oh, I’m so afraid to tell you!

As he brought her into a more vigorous embrace, he gently leaned against her. He was a young, muscular man with good proportions, a clean appearance, a handsome face, and an enlarged forehead. Francis of Montmorency was the name of the young man. He was, in fact, the Constable’s eldest son who had just despoiled her father’s last fortune.

They kissed each other passionately.

Then they strolled among the flowers whose open chalices exhaled magical scents while holding each other’s arms.

A tremor occasionally bothered the young woman.

We’re being followed, she said as she paused and paid close attention. We’re being watched... Do you hear anything?

A fawn, my beautiful love.

Francis Francis…! Oh! I’m so scared.

My little darling, why are you so afraid? Who would dare to look at you when my arms shield you?

Everything has bothered me for the past three months... I shudder!

You’ve been my woman for three months, sweet Joan! What terrifies you? You’re more than ever, my Joan, under my guard since the beautiful moment when our impatient love disobeyed the laws of man to follow those of nature. We’ll end the conflict that separates our families when you take my name.

I’m aware of this, my love, and although this honor was not intended for me, I would be delighted to devote myself entirely to you. Love me, Francis, for there is a dishonor over me!

Joan, I adore you. Nothing will stand in the way of me making you my cherished wife; I swear to the heavens above!

Laughter could be heard a short distance away.

So, confide in your husband, your beloved, if a secret sadness is bothering you.

Yes, tonight... Listen, I’ll be waiting for you at midnight at my gracious wet nurse’s home. You must understand. I’ll be better tonight.

Until midnight then, my dearest Joan.

Bye, bye and let’s go. Until tonight, goodbye.

A fresh embrace united them again, and a final kiss jolted their young bodies.

Francis then vanished into the trees in the woodland. For a minute, Joan stood there and struggled for breath before she suddenly felt movement inside of her. As she turned to leave for home at last, heaving a sigh of relief, but instead, she quickly grew pale. She was facing a man.

He had a stern countenance, an arrogant stance, and a face that revealed significant character aggression. He appeared roughly twenty years old.

In a panic, Joan sobbed aloud, Henry. It’s you!

When she saw the latest visitor, a strange look of agony appeared on her face.

Yes, it is I, Joan. Did I scare you? For the love of God, am I not allowed to refer to you as him as my brother?

She was trembling.

Upon seeing her, the young man laughed, I’ll take it if I don’t have that right! I am him, Joan, who, while I didn’t hear everything, at least saw it all. All your hugs and kisses! I tell you ALL! You made me endure suffering like those who are going to hell! You are now listening to me! Didn’t I say I loved you before him? Is Francis worthier than I am?

The young maiden regained her charming demeanor as Henry stood before her and tenderly said to him, I love you, and I will always love you as a brother… as the brother for whom I’d give my life. And I have strong feelings for you, so strong that I haven’t told Francis about us. I will never tell him.

Maybe you didn’t say anything to keep him from making him feel bad! Tell him I love you anyway, and if he needs to come to me armed to demand an explanation, let him.

This is too much, Henry! Those words are hateful, and I need all my strength not to forget that you’re his brother.

His brother? HIS RIVAL! You think about it, Joan!

Francis! Oh, my Francis! She cried while making begging hand gestures. Please forgive me if I don’t tell him in a manner you deserve!

The young man continued grinding his teeth. So, you hate me…? Speak woman! Why do you remain quiet? Be careful!

God willing, the threats I see in your eyes happen only to me!

Henry shivered. Until we see each other again, Joan of Piennes, he barked. Do you hear me? Until we see each other again, and this isn’t goodbye!

His eyes were bloodied with ire. He shook his head like a lecherous wild boar with a wounded ego and ran through the forest frenetically.

I hope that only me falls victim to your fury! Joan shouted.

After saying those words, something mysterious, distant, and ineffable shook her inside. Instinctively, she brought her hands to her womb, fell on her bent knees, and exclaimed in terror, Alone! Am I alone? No, I’m not alone! There is within me a being who lives! And I don’t want him to die!

Midnight

The eleventh toll rang faintly in Margency’s bell tower. In the distance, a dog belonging to a farmhouse yelped as though it were in pain. An empty night of solitude and darkness, it grieved over Montmorency Valley.

Counting the bell tolls was something Joan of Piennes had made a point of doing. She put down her spinning wheel and whispered, Who knows the suffering life has in store for you, dear son of my love, my sad little angel?

She didn’t say anything for a while. Then, when a crease appeared on her smooth forehead, she asked herself, Why is it that tonight, when I got home, my Father appeared depressed due to a pain I’m unaware of? What might the cause be? Why did he embrace me in such an effusive way? He looked very pallid. I tried vainly to get him to tell me his secret, poor dad. What wouldn’t I do to experience his suffering in his place? But he hasn’t wanted to talk to me about anything. He sobbed as soon as he saw me. Virgin blessed Virgin, see that the fruit of my womb is not condemned.

The painting on the wall caught her attention.

She prayed, As the mother of all mothers and the all-powerful pure Virgin Mother of us, help my lord and lover in loving and not rejecting my son who desires to live... What wouldn’t I do if I were in his shoes and felt his suffering?

It was eleven thirty, and she waited motionless, her heart heavy with grief.

Finally, she turned off the lamp, wrapped herself in a cloak, opened the door, and headed for the workhouse about fifty meters away. She walked briskly around the picket fence fragrant with the scent of wildflowers and saw a human figure on the other side.

Francis! She screamed, her heart pounding.

Her call went unanswered. The young woman looked around perplexed and then walked away. An angry shadow called for her as it moved closer to the house of the Lord of Piennes and approached a lit window.

***

The Lord of Piennes was still awake and not yet in bed. He wandered the living room with a hunched back and a sluggish step, preoccupied with a terrible mystery. How will his daughter Joan fare? To whom would he give her over? Who would he ask or beg for hospitality from if it were simply for her?

He stopped his agonizing pacing and paused, waiting in anguish for another painful disgrace, when he heard a knock on the window.

That knock was getting more powerful and imposing.

As the Lord of Piennes opened the window and gazed outside, a howl of wrath, grief, and despair tore through him; the caller was the son of his tenacious nemesis.

It was Henry of Montmorency!

Two swords were taken from the armor of blades by the elderly man, who then turned and threw them on the table.

Henry came through the window, startled, and contorted.

Both men’s faces were enraged and silent as they stared at each other face-to-face.

Lord of Piennes made a hostile hand motion while pointing at the two swords.

Following a shoulder shrug, Henry turned to face the elderly man and took his hand.

He murmured deliriously, I haven’t come to fight with you. Why I’d murder you? Besides, it would help if you didn’t hate me since I don’t dislike you. Is it my fault that my Father made you a laughingstock? I know that because of him, you lost your lordship, and your Piennes estates were taken. You were wealthy and influential once, but today you are despoiled and poor!

What are you doing over here then? Speak! The old captain shouted and delivered a decisive blow to the table. I feel insulted by your mere presence in this home! And you don’t intend to challenge me? We’ll see. You came to mock me. Does your Father send you rather than attempt to travel himself? Are you here to see if my notoriety has already claimed my life? Speak, or else I swear on my hate that you will perish instantly!

Henry wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his palm.

Are you interested in learning why I came? I’ll tell you very nicely. I come to ask you, silly old men, isn’t it an appalling sacrilege that Joan of Piennes is the wife of Francis of Montmorency because I know that the Montmorency is the cause of your misfortune and that depresses you; because I know your hatred; because I know it all foolish old men.

The Lord of Piennes collapsed. His pupils dilated, a red cloud passed before his eyes, and he raised his hand in retaliation for that heinous insult.

With a swift motion, Henry of Montmorency gripped that hand as though he wanted to pulverize it.

You don’t know? He asked sarcastically. Stupid old fool, I’m telling you that your daughter is in my brother’s arms! Come! Come, let me show you!

In shock, helplessness, and a daze, Joan’s Father was jerked away by the young man who kicked the door open. Soon after, they both entered her bedroom. The room was empty!

The desperate clamor of Lord of Piennes, which sounded like a man being slaughtered, resounded lugubriously in the night’s silence as he stretched his arms toward the heavens. After hitting his head on the wall, he appeared from the bedroom and crumpled in his big armchair like a splintered wood into twigs by a storm. He slumped