The Templar, the Queen and Her Lover

Chapter Ten

Feast of Piranus ¹⁰

Louvre, Paris

The King of France sat back on his throne as the cardinal entered, his robes hissing as the fur trimming swept over the floor.He stopped near the King, bowing but holding the King’s eye as he did so.

There was an arrogance in these men of God that no other would dare display before him, King Charles thought to himself, keepinghis features devoid of all emotion. It took an effort sometimes, in God’s name.

This one, Thomas d’Anjou, was one of the worst. Others would at least make some civil display as a matter of courtesy, butthis one was full of piss and wind. He had few of the attributes of a diplomat, and believed that anything he said would automaticallybe taken as the word of God. Arrogant fool! Well, kings could be arrogant too. And Charles was not of a mind to give up hisown position in the world just for a man in holy orders who wanted to pretend to have authority over him.

The cardinal looked about him at the knights and dukes surrounding the King, and King Charles gave a shrug of agreement, wavingthe men aside.

‘Your highness, I bring word from your Holy Father in Christ. The Pope has asked me to communicate his thoughts to you.’

Controlling his impatience, King Charles nodded. ‘Speak.’

‘He believes that the present state of affairs between your kingdom and that of the King of England is a canker that affectsthe whole of Christianity.’

‘Then he should aid me in my desire to see the king of the English become more reasonable.’

‘The Holy Father would like to see the English and French burying past disputes and coming to an agreement.’

‘I agree.’ King Charles wondered where this could be leading.

‘The Pope will be happy. There is an urgent need for a fresh crusade to wrest the Holy Land from the heathens who have overrunit. We must unite in our love of God to smite them and recover Christ’s birthplace.’

A crusade! That would be a marvellous undertaking. To lead his armies across the seas to Palestine was the height of a king’saspiration. ‘I would be delighted to join such an undertaking.’

‘It would permit both you and the English to join together in love of God to do His will. But first there must be peace betweenyour nations.’

‘There will be peace — as soon as my brother-in-law agrees to come and pay homage for the lands he holds from me. He mustcome here and kneel before me and swear his allegiance.’

‘Perhaps he will. But you should also make allowance for the fact that he is a king in his own right. He deserves respect.Especially if he makes the effort to come here and make his peace with you.’

‘For his realm, I have no ambition. For the lands of mine which I allow him to administer and rule, I expect him to show methe same respect as any knight, any marquis, any duke. Just as he expects of his barons and earls. We are of a similar mind.’

‘Perhaps another embassy would aid the negotiations?’

The King pursed his lips. ‘And who would you have me send? Or do you suppose to tell me whom the English should send to me?’

‘I am sure that you will have heard that the Pope has requested the English to send your sister to you. That way, you wouldhave a friend with whom to discuss this affair.’

‘It is entirely up to the English king whom he decides to send to me.’

‘I know that, naturally. But, if he were to send the Queen, would you be comfortable to negotiate with her?’

‘I have already indicated to the English king that I would.’

‘In that case, I am pleased. Perhaps we can hope to see a successful resolution of this matter before long. And then we mayhope to begin to plan for a crusade.’

King Charles nodded and the audience was over. The cardinal bowed again, this time walking backwards all the way to the doorout of the hall, showing considerably more respect than he had on the way in.

In the past King Charles’s father, King Philip the Fair, had been able to rely on several well-trusted advisers, but one inparticular, William de Nogaret, had been especially dependable. There were few of his stature now, sadly, since his death.It was William to whom Philip had turned when he needed a pretext to expel the Jews and take over their wealth; it was thesame William who had written up the accusations against the Knights Templar which had seen them persecuted, tortured, killed,and their wealth confiscated to the benefit of the Crown.

But Charles had some advisers of his own, whose loyalty was beyond doubt. He looked around him now, and beckoned Françoisde Tours.

‘What did you make of that?’

François was older than the King by a decade. He was a lean, tall, ascetic man who spent much of his time, when the King wastravelling, in the Île de la Cité, the ancient palace that had grown to become the centre of all administration for the Frenchstate. Now he stood and bent respectfully at the King’s side.

‘He plainly wished to see how you would react to the idea of Queen Isabella’s coming here to meet and treat with you in herhusband’s place.’

‘So that means that the Pope himself already knows that the English are likely to send her, then.’

‘I should think it likely.’

‘And he is concerned as to how I may respond to her.’

‘I would assume that would be because of her part in the affair of the Tour de Nesle, my liege.’

The mere mention of that episode was enough to make King Charles forget to maintain his equanimity. His face flushed, andhe had to clench his jaw a moment to prevent his angry words from spilling out, but then he regained control, his featureslost their angry colour, and he could breathe a gentle sigh.

‘I have forgiven her that.’

‘I was analysing the situation, your highness. If I gave offence, I-’

‘No, François. You were correct to mention it. You must always feel free to advise me without fear. I cannot trust your judgementif you are anxious about raising certain matters before me.’

But it was a difficulty, as both men knew. King Charles still had no children. His father had died eleven years ago, and KingCharles was the fourth king since then. He was the last in the male line of the Capetian blood. If he were to die withouta son, his family would have failed.

If only that slut Marguerite de Burgundy, his brother’s wife, had not been so promiscuous. The bitch took delight in all things,and her position as the wife of the future king of France gave her leeway unavailable to others. But when she was discoveredin her adultery her fall was devastating. She was dead within the year — but the damage was already done. It broke his father’sheart, and Philip the Fair was dead a twelvemonth later.

Blanche, Charles’s wife, was found to be guilty along with Marguerite. She was taken from him and thrust into a foul dungeonto rot. She deserved her fate — they both did — because they had put cuckolds’ horns on the two princes, but it was a desperateposition for the royal family. Suddenly both heirs had lost their wives. And without a wife, neither could breed.

Blanche’s marriage to him was not annulled for some time. At last, three years ago, it was, and immediately Charles remarried- this time the lovely Marie of Luxembourg. She conceived and bore him a son, but mother and child both died in the birth.Louis, the boy had been named. His second son. The first, poor Philip, had died aged only eight in the year his mother’s marriageto Charles was annulled.

‘Your highness — would you like some wine?’

‘François, no. I am fine,’ the King said. ‘I was remembering my sons.’

‘I am sure that your wife will bear you many strong and healthy boys,’ François said soothingly.

‘I hope so.’ Jeanne d’Evreux was as beautiful as she was young. At only fifteen years old, she was perfect for producing achild. Or so he hoped.

It was odd to think that he was about to marry his third wife; that he had already fathered four children, but all were dead.He mourned them all, but he had a duty as king, and that was to leave his realm in the capable hands of a boy.

Still, it made the visit of his sister poignant. After all, if she had not denounced his first wife, Blanche would probably havewhelped more boys for him. His line would be secure. Instead here he was, fighting to find a woman who could bear him hisheir and save the line of Capet.

François bent a little nearer. ‘There is one other matter, my liege. The Château Gaillard. The lady has been removed, andall is taken care of.’

The King looked at him with eyes that glittered with anger. ‘All is taken care of?’

There was an edge to his voice which François had never heard before, a thrilling of hatred. ‘As you say, my liege. The lady,and all those who could have told the story.’

‘Good. And now you will never mention that place nor her to me again.’

François nodded and walked from the room.

The cardinal was waiting outside when François arrived. ‘Well?’

‘He is happy that all proceeds.’

‘You told him all?’

‘Only about the garrison.’

‘Did you tell him one man escaped?’

François said nothing, merely stared at him.

‘You know it as well as I.’

‘Cardinal, the man will die. Already men from Les Andelys search the roads between there and his home in the south. No matterwhere he goes, he will be found. And destroyed.’

‘Good. A heretic like that must be removed, like a rabid dog, before he can infect other good people.’

‘Never fear. He will.’

The cardinal nodded. He felt only an increasing glow within his breast. This embassy would be the culmination of so much effort, with good fortune, and then the hosts could be collected and men and arms would sail once more for the HolyLand. The king of France would command the combined forces of Christendom, and at last Jerusalem would return to the controlof Christ’s people.

And the man who had orchestrated all this would, perhaps, be granted the post of papal representative in God’s holy city.

New Palace Yard, Thorney Island

Ricard grunted to himself, head huddled down under his hood as the rain began to fall again. ‘Sweet Jesus, this bloody weatheris enough to make a duck pissed off!’ He pulled his cloak tighter about him and Charlie.

Janin at his side was protectively shielding the bag containing his hurdy-gurdy under his heavy cloak. ‘I don’t know aboutthat, but I’m certain sure it won’t do my strings any good.’

‘Rain is the one catastrophe that helps none of us. We’ll just have to rely on Adam’s piping and our singing if we’re calledon to entertain the party.’

‘Philip’s singing?’ Janin asked doubtfully.

‘Hmm.’ Ricard looked over at Philip. He was standing with a scowl of such ferocity, Ricard was surprised the rain had thetemerity to continue to fall.

They had been up before the dawn, all ready and prepared to leave, but then when they were about to depart, although the Queenhad arrived, the King had not. It seemed that he and Despenser were huddled together in the palace discussing some mattersof great importance. Either that, or they were still lying abed, Ricard thought grimly.

Their new companion was a little distance away from them. He had a slight smile on his face, but then, Ricard had always heardthat the land of the Irish was as wet as a vill’s pond. He was probably used to it.

‘What about you, Jack of Ireland? Can you sing a tune or two?’

‘Me? I suppose I know a few.’

‘Good. We may need you to save us from Philip’s voice, then,’ Ricard said.

As Philip protested his ability, Ricard narrowly studied Jack from the corner of his eye.

Janin had summed it up when Ricard told the others last night.

‘Well, he can play. Perhaps it was just that — the Queen’s Comptroller wanted a good musician to replace Peter.’

‘And perhaps cats can fly,’ Philip had said. ‘Our friend Peter dies, and then this new drummer is foisted on us? Too muchof a coincidence, I’d say.’

‘Look, maybe you don’t like him, but I think his playing is still a lot better than Peter’s used to be. Sorry, I know noneof us likes to admit that, but there it is. I think it’s better to be honest about things.’

‘Shut up, Adam,’ Philip had said sharply.

‘What do you say, Jack? Will you sing?’ Ricard asked now.

‘Ah, now you should hear my voice, Ric. I have the purest notes this side of the mountains.’

So saying, he walked away, whistling. Philip and Janin exchanged a look, and it was Janin who glanced at Ricard with a vaguelyconfused expression on his face. ‘What do you suppose that means?’

‘I reckon it means I’ll be getting the bastard to sing most of the songs on the way,’ Ricard said. He huddled more closelyinside his cloak, feeling a drip work its way down at the back of his neck and trailing on to his shoulder. Charlie wriggledand grunted, and Ricard was tempted to snarl.

He hated hearing his name shortened.

Saturday next after the Feast of Piranus ⁹

Dover

Simon Puttock was relieved to arrive at Dover, although there was a strong sense of revulsion at the thought of once more beingforced to board a ship and cross the sea.

It was not an irrational fear that he held of seafaring. He had experienced all aspects of sailing, and he disliked them.Ships rolled and bucked alarmingly, he had discovered. Even when a man stood up on deck, running the risk every few minutesof a soaking, the fact that the horizon rotated about the prow made him need to heave. Any food he consumed would immediatelyreturn and have to be discharged over the side. And when all this was endured with moderate patience, the next disaster wouldbe either an attack by pirates or a shipwreck. Having suffered all of these more or less natural calamities, Simon was notkeen to explore the delights of sailing once more.

‘There they are,’ he said, pointing to the group nearer the harbour.

Baldwin looked where he indicated. It had been noticeable that the King and Despenser had travelled much of the way together,while the Queen and her ladies and knights had been kept towards the rear of the long column of travellers. Now, at last,the three were standing together, while Lord John Cromwell listened near the Queen’s shoulder. ‘Lord John is taking his dutiesseriously, I am glad to see.’

‘He would, wouldn’t he? The man is honour bound to protect her, after all.’

‘I suppose so,’ Baldwin said. ‘But I wonder who picked him? It was unlikely to have been her Majesty.’

‘I hope it wasn’t Sir Hugh le Despenser, then,’ Simon muttered. Both knew how poisonous relations had grown between Sir Hugh and theQueen in recent months.

The sound of laughter came to them, and they both peered at the group.

‘Is that the Queen?’ Simon asked.

‘I believe so,’ Baldwin said. ‘And she is kissing Sir Hugh!’

‘I don’t think I can believe what I’m seeing,’ Simon said.

Queen Isabella was chuckling and exchanging pleasantries with the King’s favourite, and as they watched, she rested her handon his arm and spoke to him again. Then she was away, kissing her husband respectfully, and curtseying to him before walkingoff with Lord Cromwell. The King and his friend watched them as they made their way down to the harbour.

‘Perhaps all is well again now,’ Simon ventured. ‘She is travelling in some style, after all. She must have money from theKing. Maybe he’s realised her value to him?’

‘And maybe it was all a ruse to lull his suspicions,’ Baldwin said. ‘There is something else in her mind, I am sure. She loathesSir Hugh. I am quite certain of that. The two men in the world whom she hates more than any other are him and our friend thebishop of Exeter. It is inconceivable that she could have so changed her feelings in the last weeks.’

‘Well, how has she been when you have spoken to her recently? Are you sure there has been no difference?’

‘Simon, you have been with me at every moment on this journey. When have you seen me with her?’

‘Never?’

‘No. She has been with her women at all times and has avoided being with me or any of the other knights.’

‘Why should that be? Perhaps she wishes to remain alone so that she can consider what she must say to her brother?’

Baldwin looked at him. ‘What is she likely to want to say? She has advisers and clerks aplenty. The only things which they will not be privy to are the loving things which a brotherand sister will say when they are meeting for the first time in some ten years or so.’

‘Ten years?’ Simon was quiet for a moment. ‘To think of leaving your own land and not seeing it for ten years …’ He lookedat the ships in the harbour with a reluctance that bordered on terror.

‘Simon, do not panic! We have among the best shipmen in the world here to take us over the sea.’ Baldwin laughed. ‘I do notthink that it will take them very long to carry us over the little puddle that separates us from France.’

‘It was not only that which worried me,’ Simon said. ‘It was the thought of what is waiting for us at the other side.’