The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean (электронная книга TXT) 📗

for the sake of thirty-two thousand marks.

It was a great deal of money, but worth it to have in the important post of Archbishop of Canterbury a man who would serve the King rather than the

Church, and if his reputation was hardly that to be expected of a good

churchman, the King did not care. It was comforting to have Walter in such a position. They could meet often and talk over old times. Together they could mourn for the incomparable Gaveston.

‘The King is mad,’ said Lancaster.

Pembroke agreed with him but there was a feud between them because

Lancaster, Warwick and the rest had made break his word. Pembroke was

wooing the King, for he feared to be deprived of his lands.

If there had not been this rift between the barons, they would have stood out against this appointment of Walter Reynolds to the important See of Canterbury but, as there was, it came to pass.

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There was news from France of Philip’s final acts against the Templars and when the story was told, Edward was glad that he had acted differently towards that company of knights. In England they became absorbed into the rest of the community, and when they considered what happened to their brethren in

France they must be grateful to the King and the English for evermore.

Philip the Fair had pursued them with a ferocity which was hard to

understand. True, he wanted their wealth but he could have taken that without inflicting such tortures on them. The rumours which came in from France were horrifying. The Queen listened to them and told herself at least her father was a strong man. Frenchmen trembled at the mention of his name. It would never be like that with Edward. Even now many of the barons were against him and she guessed that Lancaster was waiting for the moment when he could seize power.

Edward was weak. He was a fool when the young Edward was older something

would happen, she was sure of that.

In the meantime she must show a certain affection for her husband, even if she did not feel it. It was necessary to get more children and she was determined to. Her bonny Edward was the delight of her life. But she wanted him to have a brother? several if possible.

Although many of the Templars had suffered the most cruel tortures and had been burned at the stake, their Grand Master, Jacques de Molai, still lived. De Molai was a Burgundian nobleman who had joined the crusades and fought

valiantly against the Infidel. When he had been invited to Paris some years before he came unsuspecting and almost immediately was seized on, fettered, and submitted to such excruciating torture that he had collapsed under it and confessed to the evil deeds of which it was suggested he was guilty.

That men of logic did not believe he was meant nothing. So rigourous had

been the torture that few could have stood out against it, certainly not a man of de Molai’s age.

At this time, the Order had been suppressed and its riches were in the hands of the King of France, but the Grand Master and the Master of Normandy still lived because it had been discovered that, on account of their rank in the Order, their death sentence must be sanctioned by the Pope.

Realizing that death was at hand, and as he had suffered so much that his

poor pain-racked body was indifferent to more suffering, the Grand Master

made a declaration that he deeply regretted his previous statements. He had spoken as he did under duress. He wanted now to tell the King of France and his accusers that his confession had been wrung from his weak body. His soul was in protest and he now wished to state the truth. He was innocent. The whole order was innocent. His destruction had been the work of his rapacious enemies.

The Master of Normandy joined his voice with that of de Molai.

As this happened beside the scaffold which had been erected in the forecourt of Notre Dame, there was no way of hushing it up because many people had

gathered to see the end of these men. Their voices rang out clearly and the crowd was hushed and it seemed, said some, that God himself was speaking

through the Grand Master.

In view of the fact that they had rescinded and to placate the growing

apprehension and rising anger of the crowd, it was announced that their death sentence should be temporarily waived and the men taken back to their prison.

When the King heard what had happened he was furious. He could not rest

while de Molai lived. He had waited a long time to finish him, as he said, and now to have the matter delayed again was more than he could endure.

Meanwhile the prisoners had been sent back to the Provost of Paris.

‘More delay!’ raged the King. ‘There will be no real peace until those men are dead.’ He made a sudden decision. He was not going to wait for more

arguments. ‘To when they shall meet their end,’ he declared, ‘They shall be burned at the stake in the Ile de la Cite at the hour of vespers.’

The King’s word was law; and news of what was about to happen spread

through the city. That was why shortly before the appointed time, the streets were crowded and it seemed that the whole of Paris was making its way to the spot where the burnings were to take place.

The people were overawed by the sight of Jacques de Molai and his

companion for they seemed to glow with some special power.

The poor broken men they had been were no longer there. Jacques held his

head high and the light in his eyes seemed to illumine his face. People noticed that his hands did not tremble as he bared his chest.

When his hands were about to be tied, he said to the guards, ‘Suffer me to fold my hands awhile and make my prayer to God for verily it is time. I am presently to die, but wrongfully, God knows. Death is near, and I am innocent of that which I am accused. Because of this, woe will come ere long to those who have condemned us without cause.’

Then he cried out on in a loud voice which could be heard throughout that

crowded square: ‘God will avenge our death.’

There was a deep silence. Some lowered their heads and prayed. The

spectacle of men burning to death no longer excited them. There was a deep sense of foreboding in the crowd that day.

The crackle of the wood seemed ominous and as it burst into flame and the

smoke rose many people fell to their knees and prayed.

No good would come to France, they believed. The King of France was

cursed. So was the Puppet Pope. For it was those two who had been at the very heart of the Templars’ destruction.

The legend grew and when one month later the Pope died, people were

certain that the curse existed. Philip himself lived only eight months after that day when Jacques de Molai and the Master of Normandy were burned to death

in the Ille de la Cite.

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BANNOCKBURN

EDWARD had something on which to congratulate himself. Since the death

of Gaveston, his people had warmed towards him. This was largely due to the Queen whose beauty appealed to them and whose outward resignation to her

husband’s conduct won their admiration. The fact that the King and Queen were seen more frequently together and had the lusty young Edward as a certain sign that they now and then lived together as husband and wife, had pleased the people. The King could never be like the great Edward the First but perhaps with his evil genius Gaveston gone forever, there was hope of a return to a normal way of life.

Moreover the feud between the barons was in his favor for they no longer

stood together against him. Lancaster’s party was strong but the powerful Earl of Pembroke had quarreled with it over the death of Gaveston, and Pembroke had joined himself with the King.

Edward felt that he could enjoy a period of peace, as far as that were