Daughter of Silk (39 page)
Would history be made here today? Sebastien wondered. His trou- bled mind jumped to Paris, to the Louvre, where Grandmère Dushane was staying with Madeleine. Soon now his child would be born . . . Was all well?
A long council table stood in the center of the chamber surrounded by leather chairs with heavy wooden arms and backs carved by crafts- men. Fabien had not taken a seat at the table for he was not yet a member of the council, but Louis had suggested before the Guises that he remain. The Guises had made no objection, but the duc measured Fabien.
Fabien stood across the chamber near a guard, looking as unread- able as did Louis de Condé. Both had, with debonair elegance, refused to surrender their swords. Comte Sebastien was pleased with Fabien. There was an air of authority about him that showed itself in every glance he cast around the chamber at those gathered.
He is a man born to command.
Comte Sebastien, because he was a member of Catherine’s privy council, sat at the table on the side of royalty. He fought his fatigue, his
anxiety that matters could go awry, or worse, had already done so. The news from Gallaudet on the night of the masque continued to nag him. What if those in the woods were Huguenot spies? Would that not mean the message Louis had sent to Renaudie had not gotten through in time? Fabien also thought so. They had discussed it between them on the ride here from Blois.
Sebastien studied the men in assembly across the table.
Prince Louis de Condé sat at the highest place on the Huguenot- Bourbon side of the table, since he was a prince of the blood. His comely face and dark eyes appeared anything but deceived, even if he had cho- sen to come here. The news Fabien had brought to him on the road had been accepted gravely, but still he had ridden on toward Amboise with Admiral Gaspard Coligny, who had arrived from Chatillon with his entourage.
As Fabien once commented about Coligny, “I fear such a pious and decent man to open his mouth in speech. For without guile, he is taken in by the Valois and Guise treachery.” Coligny was older than Prince Louis, a sturdier man. He sat in his chair with shoulders straight and a certain humility about him. His hair was gray, rather long, and he was dressed in dark woolen Huguenot clothes, absent from all fanfare. His rough complexion showed a soldier who had lived a life of exposure and need, of courage and honor.
The admiral’s brother, le Cardinal de Châtillon, of Calvinist persua- sion, had seated himself beside le Cardinal de Lorraine. Each Frenchman wore the same scarlet robe of a cardinal, over which fell a deep edging of open guipure lace. Their broad red hats with tasseled silken cords were in front of them on the table.
Sebastien saw le Cardinal de Lorraine’s face, haughty, superior, and deliberately affronting his fellow cardinal of Protestant persuasion.
But le Cardinal de Châtillon looked unworried about his affront. He was bland, but astute. A smile was upon his lips as his eyes wandered around the table.
The door opened revealing a carved platform on which was a dais raised one step from the f loor of the council chamber. The boy-king Francis and Mary stood there fully garbed in royal attire.
Sebastien stood with those at the council table and bowed in their honor. Francis and Mary then sat down under a purple velvet canopy, embroidered in gold with f leurs de lys and the
Oriflamme.
Next came Catherine as regent and le Duc de Guise, a sight that Sebastien knew angered Fabien, for Monsieur de Guise had less right to be at her side than did Louis and his brother, Antoine of Navarre.
Sebastien, who was not watched as closely as were the Bourbons, noticed how le Duc de Guise’s sharp eyes gravitated to Louis, then to Fabien, which troubled Sebastien.
He knows Fabien is a future leader, the man to contend with one day. Does he suspect Fabien of discovering that he had arranged the death of his father, Duc Jean-Louis de Bourbon?
Sebastien had never told Fabien that he knew the facts of his father’s death, for he had feared that Fabien would seek revenge at his own ruin. Sebastien had recently heard disturbing news that there were spies at court who were contacting Fabien about having certain facts of proof against le Duc de Guise. This talk was, of course, dangerous to Fabien. If either of the Guise brothers believed Fabien posed them a threat, they would try to have him killed. Sebastien did not doubt that possibility. Le Duc de Guise, bold and unscrupulous, was ardently on a path of his own glory.
When le Duc de Guise had first seen Louis, Coligny, and le Cardinal de Châtillon, his eyes had chilled with a sinister expression that spread over his features. Sebastien knew that he took pity on none whom he judged to be heretic. He could murder in the name of God without a twinge of conscience.
The young king and queen sat motionless, reminding Sebastien of two young people bewildered by sober adult ceremony. They looked confused and concerned, as if neither truly understood what was hap- pening. Sebastien believed the facts were kept from them.
Francis was ill, too taxed to probe too deeply into his mother and oncles’ schemes. Nor could he have stood up to them if he had so desired. And Mary, quietly astute, had received few answers to her many ques- tions of her oncles.
Catherine received the Bourbon princes and nobles of the Huguenot faith with cool reserve, with the same manner she received the Guises, Nemours, and the other Catholic leaders.
All took their seats with tense silence. Naught was heard except the sound of chairs scraping on the hardwood f loor. They now sat in a semi- circle facing King Francis and Queen Mary on the royal dais.
Fabien’s mind again wandered. Andelot had not been in the chamber when he returned this morning. Fabien had inquired of Gallaudet, who had also been surprised by Andelot’s absence.
Catherine was speaking. Fabien did not believe a word she said. She spoke of danger to the crown from the Huguenot party, which to Fabien was nonsense. If there was danger, and there was, it came from two of the men in the chamber — the Guises.
The Queen Mother hinted of a “treasonable plot.” There were some men near the Valois throne involved in this plot, she stated gravely. She called on the Huguenot princes and nobles who supported the Protestant cause to offer their support to King Francis and also to lend her their excellent advice.
Fabien marveled at her Machiavellian ruse. As if she wished for the advice of Louis, Cardinal Odet de Châtillon, or the admiral. She was trying to f latter them so as to drop a shroud over their unsuspecting minds!
“I have summoned here my son’s wise and trusted counselors of the Calvinist religion to hear your decision on whether an edict of pacifica- tion, designed to guarantee all his faithful servants round his throne the rights to peace and worship, has been granted.”
I can almost believe her
, Fabien thought dryly.
If I did not know the
perfidy of this woman.
Fabien was more interested in King Francis’s reaction. He appeared to listen and wonder at his mother’s words. Perhaps he was asking him- self why his mother was duping the Huguenot leaders with talk of paci- fication when she had been in a rage promising vengeance at Chambord after speaking to Avenelle.
This was Fabien’s question as well. Why had she changed her mind? Where was the call for the death of every last man who had plotted to set her aside in favor of Louis?
Had she changed so much in a few weeks? Had she suddenly for- given? Absurd!
When Catherine concluded, le Duc de Guise applauded with enthu- siasm. That in itself convinced Fabien it was a ruse.
King Francis looked momentarily astonished. Why? Had he heard his oncle promise the very opposite? Undoubtedly.
It was a grave miscalculation to have come here,
Fabien thought again
and looked at his kinsmen.
Fabien saw Mary glance at her oncles.
She knows the truth,
Fabien thought. He stared at her. Her eyes turned toward him, widened slightly as if unmasked, blushed, and looked quickly away.
Prince de Condé, crafty at times, was more suspicious. He had not come because he was duped, but because le Duc de Guise, now head Marshal of France, could have put out a missive to arrest him for the treason of disobeying a royal command to appear at court.
Had Louis taken note of Catherine’s words, “Some men near the throne are involved in a plot”? He must know to whom she applied those words. Louis then stood and in a few choice phrases swore himself ready to defend the royal cause with his life. Royal cause, as Fabien under- stood it, was a kingdom free of the meddling House of Guise who served the interests of Spain and Rome.
The others followed suit, but Fabien noted their casual tone.
But Admiral Coligny, always a man with a true face, stood and answered forthrightly.
Fabien, encouraged by this, secretly cheered Coligny’s denunciation of “a second group of certain men near the throne” whose only ambition was to usurp the government of France for Spain.
“There are two million Protestants in the kingdom, Your Majesty —” he looked carefully about the chamber for emphasis — “who look to us, the political representatives who share their faith, and look for relief from religious tyranny and injustice under which they have long languished. Two million,” Coligny repeated slowly, looking firmly but gravely round the circle, “who seek to live at peace with Christ and their earthly king. Good Frenchmen who are industrious, who are tranquil, and who are loyal to this throne.
“But these two million demand that they shall enjoy equal privileges with the least of His Majesty’s Catholic subjects. This is now refused them. They ask neither to be suspected of treason nor heresy. They are weary of being spied upon by churchmen loyal to Rome. Nor are they persecuted and slaughtered by the thousands for any wicked reason except that those who oppose the Bible are determined to silence the truth of the Reformation.
“If any conspiracy exists, Your Majesty, such as is now spoken of by the queen regent — and we accept her statement in part as being true, for it is with the deepest sorrow that a conspiracy is deemed necessary by the persecuted — it can only have arisen from the bitter feeling engen- dered by the disgrace toward the Calvinistic subjects of this realm. The same who are uniformly treated as aliens and repulsed with cruel persis- tency from such places of trust and honor as their services have entitled them to enjoy.”
Coligny glanced about the chamber again. “Let these heavy griev- ances be removed; let His Majesty reign for himself
alone
— ” Coligny’s gaze moved from le Duc de Guise to le Cardinal de Lorraine, and finally to the Queen Mother — “with equal favor over both political-religious parties in our beloved France, Catholic as well as Protestant. Let the conciliatory edict now before the council be made public, and I, Gaspard de Coligny, bind myself upon my plighted word as a noble, and upon my conscience as a devout Calvinist, that the House of Valois will forever live in the hearts of our people, and receive from them an entire devotion ever subject to his sovereignty.”
Ah! Bravo!
Fabien thought.
A stern silence pervaded the chamber. The angry duc and cardinal exchanged glances of stif led indignation.
A royal parchment with gold seals of state was born to King Francis by the chancellor for his signature. But Francis simply stared at it, dumb- founded. He looked up and over at his mother as though he could not understand why he was being asked to sign a document granting peace to the very subjects that she and his oncles but only a day ago had sworn to him were his greatest enemies.
Catherine stood quickly from her chair. For once, her face showed her alarm. Was she afraid Francis would ask embarrassing questions? Fabien frowned. This was a ruse. He was sure of it now.
Catherine advanced toward her son. With an imperious gesture, she took the pen from the hand of the chancellor and handed it to Francis.
“Sign, my son. Why do you delay? This edict was drawn up by the unanimous advice of your council in favor of your loyal subjects.”
“Truly, Madame. I call God to witness that I desire the good of all my subjects, Huguenot and Catholic.”
He took the pen from her and signed the edict of pacification.
The council was adjourned, and Fabien watched the cold indif- ference with which the Guises brushed past the Bourbons and left the chamber.
“Peace, indeed,” Sebastien murmured ruefully to Fabien, coming up beside him.
Fabien frowned. “I would say our young King Francis was as bewil- dered as any I have seen by this action today.”
“Where are you going now?”
Fabien had started toward the door. “To make certain my kinsmen ride safely out of the courtyard,” Fabien called dryly as he strode from the chamber after the Bourbon delegation.
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A
Andelot paced the chamber where he had been brought two days ago after Francis the king had finished the interview with the Huguenots captured in the woods.
Andelot had no idea in what section of the castle he was kept, or how long the cardinal would keep him there. He had been brought a plate of bread, cheese, venison, and a bottle of wine last night. He had tried to glean information from the guards without success. A priest had come who showed himself more friendly.
“Fear not, Andelot. You are being protected here, not punished.” “Monsieur Père, I do not understand.”
“You shall later, my son. Eventually you and I will travel together to Paris where you will enter the Corps des Pages.”
“But what is happening here at the castle? Did the House of Bourbon come as planned? Did His Majesty sign the edict of pacification? Why do I hear the sound of soldiers and horses as though a battle has broken in the woods — ”
“Rest, Andelot. Be thankful le Cardinal de Lorraine is protecting you. Do not ask so many questions. Here, I have brought you a writing to ponder. Not heretical writings as from those diables Calvin and Luther, but written by the great archbishop of Carpentras, Jacopo Sadoleto. My son, the archbishop was one of the ablest of our theologians. His encounter with Calvin by public letters addressed to the civil leaders of Geneva was a notable challenge to heterodoxy.”