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Hi Ms. J !  I’m reviewing your chapter because you posted it in our group, "Invalid Item" 
Title: "Invalid Item"  Prologue
Author: Mrs. J

Plot: I believe the main point of this chapter is to show that King Phillip was determined to take an English castle not for glory or gain, but so he could pay his respects to Anne, buried within its walls. You chose a good way to show how hard the taking of the castle was. You showed Charles struggling in his attempt to scale the latrine shaft, and you gave the reader more information about how long the siege had lasted and how the ‘innocents’ had suffered. There is extra information that could be cut. Charles’ background, other people's opinions of him, and the details of siege aren’t very important to the plot because you have let us know that the main story is about a time before the seige takes place.

Style & Voice: Most of the chapter is from Charles’ POV, but it switches to Phillip near the end and then back again to Charles. Charles’ thoughts and actions were easy to understand. Phillips weren’t because we spent too little time with him.

Referencing:
It would be helpful to give a date somewhere.

Scene/Setting:
The settings were well described. The latrine that Charles was in sounded awful and you put all the senses to good use.

Characters:
Charles was an interesting character. His frustration at his dirty job and at having to stand guard and await the king were well expressed. I don’t really think his looking at the castle and it “leering” at him was necessary to his character development or to the plot.

Suggestions

Passive verbs (was/were) lack the power to pull your reader into the story. They describe a state of being rather than an action. Actions are the best way to interest a reader. There are 53 uses of “was” and 18 uses of “were” in a 2700 word chapter. That’s more than there should be. Some of these are in dialog and that’s okay. Still, about half of them should be taken out. They should be replaced with active verbs.
For instance:
Such was his military prowess, that it was already being spoken that one day this young man might soon rise to the rank of Constable of France, the commander of all the king’s armies.
People within the court spoke of Charles’ military prowess, and a few even suggested the young man might soon rise to the rank of Constable of France, commander of all the king’s armies. (Or: Courtiers lauded his military prowess, hinting the young man might soon rise to the rank of Constable of France, commander of all the king’s armies.)

Editors consider the use of adverbs to be a sign of weak writing. Instead of finding the perfect descriptive verb to suit the action, the writer chooses a common verb and inserts an adverb. There were about 19 adverbs used. The adverb “quickly” was used 4 times. It would be better if some adverbs were removed and most of the uses of "quickly" were to be eliminated.

I’m not at all fond of prologues and most agents/editors aren’t either. However, if you’re going to have a prologue, it should have direct bearing on the story or a character, but include information that cannot be told by the people in the story itself. In that case, you have such information here. The fact that Phillip remembers her so fondly and has such respect for her while others think she’s simply a mistress is very interesting information and works to make this prologue relevant.

On the flip side, all Charles’ background in this chapter and all the background about the siege is not germane to your coming story. If Charles never knew Anne, and if she was dead by the time the siege happened, that information is not important in this prologue and should be taken out.

Grammar:
See the line-by-line that follows.

Overall Impression:
The very beginning was confusing. I didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. It might be better to start with Charles and his men sneaking up on the castle, avoiding enemy soldiers, and digging to get into the shaft. That would be easier to understand, but would still contain tension and mystery.

Once I understood where he was and what he was doing, it was very interesting. At the very end, when he gets through, the French storm the caste, he must wait for the King, and Broase gives information, were all very interesting items. These were the good parts, but I think that was about 1500 words out of 2700.

My biggest reservation about this chapter is that there were flashbacks within flashbacks, which confused the time-line. There was a flashback of him looking at the castle, of him recounting how the other King left (sulking), of how he was regarded as a knight for King Phillip, of the taking of an orchard (?) and of sometime in the past when he buried a girl. The burial of the girl was well described, but has no bearing on the story. There was too much information in this chapter, which was in exposition form, and dragged the narrative down. If he would have been in the shaft, looked down and saw a soldier’s face, and was reminded of the girl he buried, then you could have described the dead girl and it would have fit the story and would have worked. As it is, it felt like a fictionalized version of a textbook chapter about a siege, battle, and taking of a castle. It ended up feeling a bit more like a textbook to me than like a story.

Line-by-line

Grammar in red.
Suggestions and comments in blue.
Repeated words and adverbs in bold.

The profane, unfathomable stench seared his nostrils and burned his eyes until they watered. Charles pushed backward against the uneven rock to force himself upward. With his fingertips, he could feel a rough ledge, but his whole hand slipped on the slime that coated it. Thrown off balance for a brief moment, Charles thought he would tumble down the shaft taking the men below with him.
This opening is confusing to me. It was like I turned on the TV in the middle of a program and got the sound only. I couldn’t tell where he was or what he was doing. Without knowing he’s climbing a shaft in the beginning of the paragraph, I couldn’t understand the “pushed backward” in order to go upward.

Reaching out to the opposite wall, Charles used the pressure to stabilize his position. (In order to climb up the shaft, he must be pushing against the opposite wall to begin with, otherwise, what's he holding on to?) Immediately[,] he felt the burning sensation in his scraped fingers. He wasn’t wearing any gloves; they would have only been a hindrance against the slime and refuse that coated the wall. Without thinking, he emptied the air from his lungs, but instantly regretted it; as he would just have to draw in more breath, ingesting the foul air around him.

Below him a man vomited, making his own reflexes spring into action. Now he had to reign rein in his urge because he could not show weakness to his men. As he closed his eyes to compose himself, he remembered in detail why he, French King Phillip II’s field marshal, was scaling the latrine drain of Chateau Gaillard.

Just hours ago Charles stood on the bank of the Seine looking up at the massive Chateau Galliard perched on the cliff high above him. (The "up" is redundant if you write it's above him.) The castle seemed to look back down at him, mocking him, grinning at him as if to say, “I shall never be taken.” His frustrated reply was to kick at the dirt.
To eliminate the passive verb, try: He kicked the earth in frustration.

Some men thought at twenty-three he was too young for the job of field marshal, but Charles proved himself time and time again. Coming from a lesser noble family in the Vexin region, he rose to his present title rather quickly. Philip took notice of the young man because of his ferocity in battle, his tactical skills, and his great loyalty. Such was his military prowess, that it was already being spoken that one day this young man might soon rise to the rank of Constable of France, the commander of all the king’s armies.
This is an info-dump and should be put inside the action in little bits. It also seems that the last two lines are from the narrator and not from Charles, which is a break in POV.

All this weighed on his mind as the chateau, the symbol of English power leered down at him. He remembered the story that was told of how, when Richard the Lionheart built it, Philip swore he would take it if he had to do it brick by brick. Richard replied that he would defend it even if it were made of butter. Right now it certainly seemed that Philip would have to take it brick by brick. Snickering, Charles wished the chateau was made of butter. Then this siege would have been over months ago. Charles was not one to believe in ghosts; even though King Richard was dead and buried, it seemed like he was still defending his castle. Richard’s brother, King John, certainly hadn’t done much to defend Gaillard, the gateway to Angevin Normandy. The last time John was seen, he was sailing back to England, sulking the entire way.

Above Charles, stones soared overhead, catapulted at the castle walls. They made a thundering crunch as they hit and the earth shook. He wondered if they were the stones from the wall of the little peach orchard across the river. That orchard was supposed to have been a favorite spot of Richard’s. It galled him that in eight months all the French managed to capture was the orchard, and the outer bailey. However, the outer bailey was not the first obstacle Philip and his men faced. Taking the town was easy enough, but then the besiegers were faced with what they now called the innocents.
From the latrine shaft, he's seeing the catapulted rocks? Or is this stil the flashback of him looking at the castle from outside?

When King Philip began the siege, the castellan, Roger de Lacey, ordered all non-combatants out of the fortress. At first the French let them pass to the town below, but then there were spies found amongst them, and King Philip forbade any to pass through his lines. These people, old men, women, children were trapped between the French lines and the silent walls of the castle. All winter, both sides watched as this hapless group starved in the muddy trenches. Eventually[,] Philip took pity on them, gave them food, and ordered them on through his lines. That was just before the outer bailey fell.

The besiegers only managed to take the outer bailey a month ago, and only when the curtain wall fell due to mining underneath. Images of French men at arms trying to climb the outer wall with ladders were still fresh in Charles’ mind. The ladders were woefully too short to reach the top, and the soldiers tried to climb up the rock wall. Many men fell to their deaths.

The mighty trebuchets below sprung loose another volley of stone projectiles. This time Charles watched them hit their mark, and stone splintered and shattered, leaving pock marks in the gray walls. When the dust cleared and Charles could see the damage on the face of the castle that Richard had referred to as his daughter; it lifted his spirits. If only Richard could see this, he thought. Still, the French remained firmly shut out of the middle bailey. No doubt, Richard would have been as proud as any father of his citadel. Her defenses performed exactly as they were designed.
The last three paragraphs are full of backstory about a seige. The reader wants to know about Charles, who's ‘now’ in the latrine shaft. When your backstory is in the first chapter, it's called "frontloaded backstory" and it's disliked by agents and not the best way to keep the reader’s attention.

Charles ran his filthy fingers through his golden-red hair. Thinking about Richard made him uncomfortable. He knew that it was often whispered at court, the only reason he rose so quickly to his position was because he reminded Philip of Richard in temperament, skill, and looks. Often times, people said the two men could have passed for brothers. Charles never met Richard so he didn’t know if this was true or not. He did know that for years the territory of the Vexin had been fought over by the French and English.

Because his family always remained loyal to the French crown, they lost everything to the English. Now scenes of destruction from his youth returned to his mind. When he buried an innocent, the little golden haired girl with a round, dirt-smudged face, he noticed that even in death she had an expression of pain. He laid her in the open pit with other bodies.
So this is a flashback to a different time from the seige and the looking at the castle? That's a lot of flashbacks.

An early March breeze whipped a banner snapping and cracking back and forth behind him as he refocused his mind on the battle. Seven months had passed since the siege began. All the usual tactics were working painfully slowly. Inside, the defenders had enough provisions to hold out for a year if necessary. Charles was assigned the duty of searching out an alternative means to breach the chateau’s defenses.
Two paragraphs ago, he ran "filthy fingers" through his hair. I thought we were in the shaft. Now he's looking at banners and a battle. I am completely lost.

It was late evening now, and time to go. With solid determination, Charles put his helmet on. He was going to find a way into that castle or die trying. Turning, he snapped at his page resting comfortably on a large rock, “Follow me!”

The two made their way up to the castle’s southern outer walls. Under the cover of darkness, Charles and his page re-examined what they thought were arrow slits in the outer wall. After closer inspection, they discovered that the holes were the drain for a latrine. From what they knew of the layout of the castle, this latrine would lead to one connected to the chapel. The page scurried back to camp and returned with help.

Charles and a few others set about removing stone from the slits. At first a man-at-arms drew his sword to chip away at the rock, but Charles pushed him aside and shook his head.

“But we haven’t any other tools[,] Sir sir,” the man protested.
Because Charles really is a knight (Sir Charles), his title needs to be capitalized.

“We must not make any noise!” Charles whispered.
If he's whispering, you should remove the exclamation point.

The men scraped away mortar and chunks of stone with small knives and bruised hands, fingers, and knuckles. At last they were able to open the slits just wide enough for one man at a time to squeeze through.

Charles, along with over two-dozen other men-at-arms, was given the duty to scale the drain and enter the chapel. He wished he could send others in first. It was not the fear of what waited on the other side, but the knowledge of what they were about to climb into that made his stomach churn. Still, it was his duty to lead his men to battle even if it mean going through a latrine drain.

Since their armor would make it impossible to climb the drain, the men removed it. This left them in only their padding for protection. And then, he led his men into the shaft.

The walls around the latrine shaft shook and Charles knew another volley of stones made contact with the castle above. Ready to be finished with what seemed a sentence in purgatory, he shimmed upward.

Emerging into the open air, Charles held his breath until he exited the garderobe and entered the chapel itself. Sharply, he let it out, purging himself of the foul and breathing in the cleansing air. The man behind him surfaced. Together they secured a rope around a heavy pillar, then tossed the rope back down the latrine for the other men climbing the drain. As Charles looked around, he quickly found what he was looking for. He ordered the first two men who followed him to draw their swords and pointed to a grave. “There it is. Stand here with me and guard it,” he growled.

More men poured into the chapel and began looking for a way to exit. “The door is locked,” a young man-at-arms moaned.

["]Well, what did you expect, they’d leave everything open for us? Break a window!” Charles grimaced.

“But it’s a chapel, Sir.”
I originally corrected this to "sir", then read on and found he was actually Sir Charles. Therefore, it's okay to capitalize it.

“Just break the window!” Charles’ face turned red. Time was vital and this dolt was wasting it.

Someone broke the window; Charles did not see who, and the French swarmed onto the castle grounds. Charles watched them go. From outside the chapel, he could hear the shouts and cries of battle, but he and the two other men remained at their post.

Aggravated he butted his head backwards against the wall. He wanted to be out there with the men, fighting, not in here standing guard at a grave.

Within a matter of moments, the French surprised and overpowered the English at the drawbridge, and another moment saw hundreds of Philip’s soldiers rushing into the castle. Many Englishmen were slaughtered or taken prisoner. Other English retreated to the inner bailey.
How does he know that many men were slaughtered? Isn't he still guarding the grave? This is a POV mistake; he cannot know this.

As the siege continued, Charles remained at his post by the grave, assigned there by the king himself. He could not help but wonder just what he had done to anger the king.

Once the middle bailey fell it did not take long for the inner bailey to fall, and then the castellan, after which Roger De Lacy surrendered the fortress. Still Charles remained stationed at a grave.

#

Tall and graceful, the French King, Philip Augustus, entered the fortress to the shouts and cheers of his men, but he seemed to take little notice of them. He was a man in search of something.

Philip’s personal priest, a rotund man named Father Broase, hustled toward the king. “Your Highness, I think I have found it!”

“Is it her grave?” Philip asked, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling.

Broase was still a little out of breath. “Yes, My Lord, I believe so. We have found the chapel. I will show you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Broase turned and retraced his steps as fast as his stubby legs would allow. Philip followed behind, silently urging the priest to hurry.
I like the stubby legs description.

They reached the chapel of Chateau Galliard with all the haste left in Broase. “There, My Lord, there it is.” Broase pointed a crooked finger toward a grave maker.

Philip entered the chapel reverently. (How does one enter a chapel "reverently"? Describe.) Other than the broken window, the chapel was spared damage from the battle, and as of yet, it was not stripped of its ornamentation. The grave was in front of and to the right of the altar. Charles and the two knights stood in front of the grave, swords still drawn. Philip went to the gravestone to which Broase pointed. The stone read:

Anne Baux

Viscountess De Marseilles

Tenderly Philip touched the letters on the cold stone. He felt such emotions welling up in him, emotions that were locked away for five years with the things he tried to forget. It was so powerful that he could not give his feelings description. He held his breath. Here she was. Here was the much beloved Lady Anne.

“Forgive me, Sire, but I am puzzled.” Charles’ voice broke the spell. “You have just won a great battle; you’ve just taken the Chateau Galliard. This was King Richard’s castle. They all said it could never be taken. This is a mighty victory my King!

["]Your men are celebrating! The French have taken back their lands from the English! Yet, the first thing you do is come here to the chapel to find a grave. I am confused.”
When a speaker's dialog is in more than one paragraph, the front quotes are always written, the end quotes are not added until the end of the whole speach.

Philip’s voice came so quietly and with such compassion that it surprised even himself. “She was dearer to me than any sister.”

“But, My Lord, I thought she was Richard’s mistress,” Charles griped.

Anger sprang up in Philip to hear Anne demeaned in such a manner. He turned on Charles. “You and I would have been lucky to have been loved by half such a woman.”

Charles apologized quickly, not wanting to incur any more of King Philip’s wrath. “I am sorry, but I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning, Sire.”

Philip felt immediate remorse for lashing out at the knight. He looked over at Charles and remembered how the man always served him well. It wasn’t Charles’ fault; he had not known Anne.

Broase intervened. “Perhaps, Sir Charles, it is best that we leave the King alone in the chapel. I am sure he could use this time alone with God.”

Broase ushered Charles out of the chapel into the little entryway outside the chapel proper, and went back to get a chair, looking back as he shut the door. Philip took a seat on the cold stone floor next to the grave. He propped his back against the wall, removed his sword and loosened his armor.

#

Broase shut the door.

“I didn’t mean to anger the king,” Charles protested.

“You did not anger him; he just needs to be alone.” Broase set the chair down in front of the chapel door as if to declare that he was guarding it the door.

“This is insane. He needs to be with the men in victory! He is not making any sense, Broase! He ordered me to stand here and guard a grave instead of leading the men to the gate.” Charles threw up his hands.

“That grave is very important to the king. He wanted to trust it to his most loyal knight.” Broase tried to explain.

Charles just shook his head in frustration. “A grave?”

Broase felt a certain compulsion to make the man understand, to see beyond the rumors, the stories, even what was now legend. “Since you have always been so loyal to the king, I will tell you all.”

“There was a time when King Philip and Richard were friends, long before he became a king, long before the crusade. Then there was Anne. She was always there with them; Lady Anne, the woman who could bring the mighty warrior Richard to his knees.

["]They met while Philip was still young. Richard was the Duke of Aquitaine then.” He paused. “Sit, Sir sir, this will take some time.”

With apprehension Charles took a seat in the narrow hallway.