The Royal Succession. Морис Дрюон

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СКАЧАТЬ who is a native of Lyons, is in command of them. Messire the Regent also wishes you to know that if, by the third day, you have not agreed, you will receive but one dish in the twenty-four hours by way of food and, after the ninth day, there will be but bread and water, as is also prescribed in the constitution of Gregory. And finally, if enlightenment does not come to you through fasting, he will destroy the roof and expose you to the inclemency of the weather.’

      Bérenger Frédol, the elder, intervened: ‘Messire, you will be guilty of murder if you subject us to such treatment, for there are some among us who will not be able to support it. Look at Monseigneur Duèze, who has already collapsed and is in need of care.’

      ‘Oh, yes, oh, most certainly,’ Duèze complained feebly; ‘I shall most certainly not be able to support it.’

      ‘What’s the use?’ cried Caetani. ‘Can’t you see we have to do with savage and stinking beasts? But let me tell you, Messire, that instead of electing a Pope, we shall excommunicate you, you and your perjurer.’

      ‘If you hold a meeting of excommunication, Monseigneur Caetani,’ the Count de Forez replied calmly, ‘the Regent might make known to the Conclave the name of certain sorcerers and casters of spells who should be put at the top of the list for roasting.’

      ‘I really don’t see,’ said Caetani, beating a hasty retreat, ‘I really don’t see what sorcery has to do with the matter, since it’s with the election of a Pope that we are concerned.’

      ‘Ah, Monseigneur, I see we understand each other; please dismiss the people you do not need, because there will not be enough food to feed them all.’

      The Cardinals realized that all resistance was vain and that this armed man, who was giving them the Count of Poitiers’s orders in so firm a voice, was adamant. Already, behind Jean de Forez, the men-at-arms were beginning to enter one by one, pike in hand, and to deploy at the end of the church.

      ‘Since we cannot use force, we shall use cunning,’ said Caetani in a low voice to the Italians. ‘Let us pretend to submit, because at the moment we can do no other.’

      They each chose the three most faithful servants from among their following, those they thought might be the best advisers, the most cunning in intrigue, or the most apt at tending to their physical wants in the difficult material circumstances in which they would have to live. Caetani kept Father Bost, Andrieu and Pierre, the priest with the two thumbs, that is to say the men who had been implicated in casting the spell on Louis X; he preferred that they should be shut up with him, rather than risk their talking either for money or under torture. The Colonnas kept four pages who could fell an ox with their fists. Canons, clerks, linkmen and trainbearers began to leave, one by one, through the hedge of armed men. As they passed, their masters whispered:

      ‘Let my brother the Bishop know … Write in my name to my cousin de Got … Leave at once for Rome …’

      At the moment when Guccio Baglioni was preparing to leave, Jacques Duèze put out his thin hand from within the confessional, where he lay in a state of collapse, and seized the young Italian by his robe, murmuring: ‘Stay with me, my boy. I am sure you will be a great help to me.’

      Duèze knew from experience that the power of money was far from negligible within a Conclave; it was an unhoped-for piece of luck to have with him a representative of the Lombard banks.

      An hour later there remained inside the Church of the Jacobins but ninety-six men, who were fated to stay there as long as twenty-four among them had not agreed on the election of one. Before leaving, the men-at-arms had carried in armfuls of straw to make beds, on the very stone itself, for the most powerful prelates of the world. A few basins had been brought, that they might wash themselves, and water, in great jars, had been placed at their disposal. Under the eye of the Count de Forez, the masons had walled up the last exit, merely leaving a little square opening halfway up, a window just wide enough to allow food to be passed in, but too narrow for a man to pass through. All round the church the soldiers had taken up their positions six yards apart and in two ranks: one rank with backs to the wall looked towards the town; the other faced the church and watched the windows.

      Towards midday the Count of Poitiers set out for Paris. He took with him in his following the Dauphin of Viennois and the little Dauphiniet, who would henceforth live at his Court in order to get to know his five-year-old betrothed.

      At the same hour the Cardinals received their first meal: since it was a fast day, they were given no meat.

       6

       From Neauphle to Saint-Marcel

      

      ON A MORNING EARLY in July, well before dawn, Jean de Cressay entered his sister’s room. The large young man carried a smoking candle; he had washed his beard and was wearing his best riding-cloak.

      ‘Get up, Marie,’ he said. ‘You’re leaving this morning. Pierre and I are going to take you.’

      The girl sat up in bed.

      ‘Leave? What do you mean? Have I got to leave this morning?’

      Her mind was still hazy from sleep and she stared in incomprehension at her brother out of her huge dark blue eyes. She automatically shook back over her shoulders her long thick, silky hair, in which there were golden lights.

      Jean de Cressay looked at his sister’s beauty without pleasure, as if it were a sin.

      ‘Pack up your clothes, for you won’t be coming back for a long time.’

      ‘But where are you taking me?’ asked Marie.

      ‘You’ll see.’

      ‘But why did you not say anything about it yesterday?’

      ‘What, so that you might still have time to play another trick on us? Come on, hurry up; I want to get started before our serfs see us. You’ve brought us shame enough; there’s no point in giving them more cause for gossip.’

      Marie did not reply. For the last month her family had treated her like this and spoken to her in this tone of voice. She got up, feeling the weight of her five months’ pregnancy which, though still light, always surprised her when she rose in the morning. By the light of the candle Jean had left her, she made ready, washed her face and neck and quickly tied up her hair; she noticed that her hands were trembling. Where were they taking her? To what convent? She placed about her neck the gold reliquary Guccio had given her, which had come, so he had said, from Queen Clémence. ‘Up to now the relics have not been much protection,’ she thought. ‘Have I not prayed to them enough?’ She packed an overdress, a few underdresses, a surcoat and some towels for washing.

      ‘You’ll wear your cloak with the big hood,’ Jean said, as he looked into her room for a moment.

      ‘But I shall die of heat!’ said Marie. ‘It’s a winter cloak.’

      ‘Your mother wishes you to travel with your face hidden. Do as you’re told and hurry.’

      In the courtyard the СКАЧАТЬ