plans for an invasion of England forward.” Philippe turned to Nogaret. “You will go to London. I will arrange for you to leave as soon as possible in order that you are there ahead of Jacques de Molay. You will discover the purpose of the meeting.”
“Surely, my lord, one of our usual sources would be better equipped for such a task,” said Nogaret, affronted by the idea that he, king’s lawyer and a former professor of one of the finest universities in France, would be trailing about London like some common sneak. He looked at Flote, wondering if he had suggested this. But the chancellor didn’t meet his gaze.
“No,” said Philippe. “I want this information quickly. When you arrive go directly to the royal palace at Westminster. Say you are there to visit my mother-in-law, that you have an urgent message from her daughter. This should allow you to avoid the formalities of an official visit, although I doubt anyone will know who you are and become suspicious in any case. Have her find out whatever she can.”
“With King Edward’s brother leading the English in Bayonne, that could be difficult. The queen mother may not know anything.”
“She is a woman in a royal court, Nogaret. Her husband will not be her only source of information, certainly.”
Before Nogaret could answer, there was a knock at the door. A clerk appeared. “The Scottish envoys are preparing to leave, my lord.”
“I will be there shortly.”
“Scottish envoys?” questioned Nogaret, as the clerk closed the door.
“They arrived while you were away, seeking an alliance against Edward for his continuing interference in their realm. Two months ago I signed a treaty agreeing to aid them.”
“The Scots are a nation of barbarians,” said Nogaret derisively. “Still living in mud huts and warring with one another over who will be chief.”
the fall of the templars
33
“That they may be, but they are enemies of Edward and that makes them allies of mine. They will keep him occupied on the borders of his kingdom, while I continue to beat back his forces here. With his army divided in such a way, I expect he will not be able to hold out much longer in Gascony. Edward will almost certainly have learned of this alliance by now, which may be precisely why he has requested this meeting with the Templars, and which is why this matter now takes precedence over your task in Bordeaux.” Philippe drew a breath. “Now leave me, both of you. I wish to change before bidding our barbarian friends farewell.”
When the ministers had gone, Philippe crossed the chamber to a full-length silver mirror. He removed the gold circlet from his head and placed it on the desk. Next, slowly, deliberately, he unfastened the belt embossed with silver that pulled in the wine-colored robe at his waist. Drawing the folds of the robe over his muscled torso, he took it off and draped it on the arm of the couch.
All the while, he kept his eyes on the dazzling surface of the mirror, watching himself with cool detachment, as if he were observing someone else. Beneath the robe, Philippe wore a hair shirt. The tight-fitting garment was fashioned from coarse goat hair and gave off a repugnant odor, which worsened when he sweated. He noticed the weave was looking a little flat and reminded himself to have his tailor make a new one. He wore it most days, and the stiff hairs tended to lose some of their abrasiveness over time, smoothed by the movements of his body and the constant rubbing against his skin. As he unlaced the leather thongs, the garment loosened, coming away from his chest with a feeling of such intense relief that it took all his effort not to tear the thing away.
Undoing the rest of the ties, he removed the hair shirt and laid it carefully beside his robe. In the mirror, Philippe examined the results of the day’s penance.
His skin was irritated a feverish red. As he turned to one side, a fresh line of welts showed where he had been bitten by the
“Surely, my lord, one of our usual sources would be better equipped for such a task,” said Nogaret, affronted by the idea that he, king’s lawyer and a former professor of one of the finest universities in France, would be trailing about London like some common sneak. He looked at Flote, wondering if he had suggested this. But the chancellor didn’t meet his gaze.
“No,” said Philippe. “I want this information quickly. When you arrive go directly to the royal palace at Westminster. Say you are there to visit my mother-in-law, that you have an urgent message from her daughter. This should allow you to avoid the formalities of an official visit, although I doubt anyone will know who you are and become suspicious in any case. Have her find out whatever she can.”
“With King Edward’s brother leading the English in Bayonne, that could be difficult. The queen mother may not know anything.”
“She is a woman in a royal court, Nogaret. Her husband will not be her only source of information, certainly.”
Before Nogaret could answer, there was a knock at the door. A clerk appeared. “The Scottish envoys are preparing to leave, my lord.”
“I will be there shortly.”
“Scottish envoys?” questioned Nogaret, as the clerk closed the door.
“They arrived while you were away, seeking an alliance against Edward for his continuing interference in their realm. Two months ago I signed a treaty agreeing to aid them.”
“The Scots are a nation of barbarians,” said Nogaret derisively. “Still living in mud huts and warring with one another over who will be chief.”
the fall of the templars
33
“That they may be, but they are enemies of Edward and that makes them allies of mine. They will keep him occupied on the borders of his kingdom, while I continue to beat back his forces here. With his army divided in such a way, I expect he will not be able to hold out much longer in Gascony. Edward will almost certainly have learned of this alliance by now, which may be precisely why he has requested this meeting with the Templars, and which is why this matter now takes precedence over your task in Bordeaux.” Philippe drew a breath. “Now leave me, both of you. I wish to change before bidding our barbarian friends farewell.”
When the ministers had gone, Philippe crossed the chamber to a full-length silver mirror. He removed the gold circlet from his head and placed it on the desk. Next, slowly, deliberately, he unfastened the belt embossed with silver that pulled in the wine-colored robe at his waist. Drawing the folds of the robe over his muscled torso, he took it off and draped it on the arm of the couch.
All the while, he kept his eyes on the dazzling surface of the mirror, watching himself with cool detachment, as if he were observing someone else. Beneath the robe, Philippe wore a hair shirt. The tight-fitting garment was fashioned from coarse goat hair and gave off a repugnant odor, which worsened when he sweated. He noticed the weave was looking a little flat and reminded himself to have his tailor make a new one. He wore it most days, and the stiff hairs tended to lose some of their abrasiveness over time, smoothed by the movements of his body and the constant rubbing against his skin. As he unlaced the leather thongs, the garment loosened, coming away from his chest with a feeling of such intense relief that it took all his effort not to tear the thing away.
Undoing the rest of the ties, he removed the hair shirt and laid it carefully beside his robe. In the mirror, Philippe examined the results of the day’s penance.
His skin was irritated a feverish red. As he turned to one side, a fresh line of welts showed where he had been bitten by the
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