16th February 1310, Fontainebleau Palace
De Nogaret’s face immediately showed his displeasure as he entered Philip’s rooms and spied De Plaisians and Philippe de Marigny already with their feet under the table, so to speak. They were drinking wine and laughing at ease with the King, enjoying the platters of dried fruit and sweet pastries that had been provided for them. It was even worse for De Nogaret now that he was lame. He had always envied De Plaisians’ good looks and today he seemed even taller and more comfortable in his comely skin, while in contrast De Nogaret knew that his disability and walking stick made him stoop and appear like an old man.
The Archbishop of Sens, on the other hand, was neither handsome nor ugly but had a pious cruelty etched into his pinched features. He was older, but dressed in glorious and expensive robes he appeared impressive, rather like Pope Clement aught to. De Nogaret’s resentment and jealousy was short lived though when he remembered what De Floyran had promised him. He would leave them all for dust when he became werewolf kind and all his needs and desires were finally realised, besides he still knew how to get the King’s attention.
“You look well!” De Plaisians said and De Nogaret gave him a brief scathing smile as he lurched into the room. Philip rolled his eyes and then motioned for a cup of wine to be taken to his councillor.
“Guillaume makes much of his ailment, I sometimes wonder if he really is as injured as he makes out.”
“Your Majesty,” De Nogaret said sounding deeply hurt but Philip merely waved at him and smiled almost choking on the mouthful of wine he had just slurped.
“I am only teasing you.” He turned to the other men in the room and motioned for them to sit at the table. “Guillaume was injured during his service to me and I will never forget his loyalty. Your leg will not bother you when you receive your rewards,” he paused and then added, “when this business is over.”
“Ah yes,” De Plaisians started, “the papal commission is adamant in their decision to call for a Templar defence and Clement has done nothing to dissuade them.”
“No, he has not. Like Boniface he dances too close to the fires of heresy. I worry about his true purpose for his passive approach to the Templar dilemma.” Philip said scornfully.
“With all due respect, your Majesty,” De Nogaret began, “the Pope cannot pressurise the commission. They have called into question your motives and the Pope must remain impartial lest he appear under your influence.”
“He should be under my influence!” Philip spat, “if it had been up to me, this matter would have been resolved early in thirteen-oh-eight. They have had over seventy confessions! What do they want?”
“A detailed inquiry. They must follow procedure. Do not forget that the Templar masters retracted their confessions to the cardinals Clement sent, this has cast doubt over the matter and the way it has been conducted by the secular arm.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, your Majesty, as always.”
“He is right.” Philippe de Marigny said. “There are procedures and standards and neither commission will take short cuts. If you press them they will suspect a personal vendetta like with Boniface and the trials will collapse. I am afraid that you must be patient your Majesty, or you could lose this battle.”
Philip threw his arms up into the air and swore, “Mayhap I already have. The Temple treasury is pitiful and the monsters may yet be absolved and I will have to return their estates and what money I have gleaned back to them. Imagine the shame, imagine their arrogance? Imagine allowing their freedom when we know what they are? They could destroy us!”
De Nogaret raised his eyebrows warningly at the King and tilted his head towards De Marigny.
“He knows!” the King snapped.
“I thought we were to keep the matter between those who were witness at Montlhéry.” De Nogaret said unemotionally, even though inside he was seething. He had been the first to know, it was his secret and now Philip told whomever he chose or rather whomever he thought would serve him best. De Nogaret was furious but bit down on his tongue to quell his anger.
“I will tell whom I think needs to be told, councillor!” Philip said angrily. “At the moment there are more people on the side of the Templars than mine, including the Pope! Philippe understands the delicacy of the matter and he is one representative of the Church that we can count on at present.”
De Nogaret nodded his understanding even though he was still incensed. It was clear to him that Philip thought he had outlived his use and that he was just here for ceremony. He knew Philip would reward him, true to his word but he was no longer the King’s favourite. Such a fact may have devastated him once, but he knew how to regain the King’s favour. Besides, his eye was on a new future with De Floyran and his kind and he knew that Philip would need him again before the end.
“And what of this defence?” Philip continued with his ranting. “With the masters’ confessions retracted the knights will surely follow their lead. We only have the confessions of De Floyran’s men to count on. There have been no confessions from England!”
“There are no Templars in England, are there?” De Plaisians made comment.
De Nogaret waved his hand dismissively at him. “The Templar defence will fail.” He said assuredly. The others all looked at him. He smiled within, knowing he could still command an audience.
“They may call on any free Templars to come to Paris to defend the Order but no knights will come. Those that weren’t arrested will have dispersed and will have been warned to keep away. Remember, only the knights of the Temple are werewolves, only we know that truth. It is not our purpose to send the innocent minions of the Order to their deaths and that is why in the inquiry we have tried to make clear that it is the practices of the knights and hierarchy of the Temple that are heretical.
The servants and chaplains are not under investigation and the Pope plans to absolve all these members and reunite them with the Church. They will prove their fealty to Christianity by living out their days in monasteries. Word of his plan can be spread and trusting in the protection of the Pope, perhaps some of these fools will come to Paris in order to defend the knights as they, like the rest of the world, are unaware of the reality of their heinous nature.”
“And?” Philip said impatiently.
“Well, the commission may have their paltry defence but in truth, I doubt many would come after being absolved. If they are smart they will want to dissociate themselves from the Order. So do not worry about the defence. The knights have been retracting their confessions, but surely this is a good thing,” he paused and looked slyly at Philippe de Marigny, “I am sure the Archbishop understands why that could be.”
Philippe looked to the others in the room and frowned trying to work out De Nogaret’s meaning. The King shook his head.
“Stop with the guessing games Guillaume. We all know how clever you are, just spit it out!”
“They can be condemned as relapsa,” De Nogaret shrugged.
“Relapsa?” Philippe de Marigny said.
“Yes, you do know what it means, don’t you?” De Nogaret asked facetiously.
“Of course I do!” the Archbishop snapped defensively. De Nogaret caught sight of the King’s expression and saw the spark of delight beginning to enter his eyes. De Nogaret knew he never need worry about having Philip’s esteem, he was far cleverer than these other fools the King surrounded himself with. He knew it and so did the King.
“Come enlighten us Guillaume!” Philip said, his tone had changed and was much warmer towards him. De Nogaret had these past weeks, since his meeting with Clement, been looking closely at both of the commissions’ inquiries. While De Marigny and De Plaisians may have topics of conversation in common with the King and amused him with their pathetic tales, he worked relentlessly to ensure the King’s mission was on the path to success.
“I am talking about discrepancies between the testimonies of Templars before each of the commissions. In certain provinces
Templar Knights retracted the confessions of guilt they had made to the diocesan commission when they came before the papal commission. These knights which have now been brought to Paris, along with others that were previously incarcerated in the provinces, are surely considered relapsed. A relapsed heretic is the worst kind and must meet a fiery death, do you not agree Archbishop?”
Philip smiled. “Well?” he looked at Philippe de Marigny and folded his arms.
The Archbishop nodded his head. “He is right.”
“Well what can we do?”
“There are several things we can do. We can either persuade the Templar dignitaries to go back to their former admissions and explain the consequences of if they do not or –”
“The Pope has reserved the right to judge the Templar masters.” De Plaisians interjected.
“Let me finish,” De Nogaret said casting a dark look De Plaisians way. “If the masters return to their prior confessions then their knights will follow suit, they are a brotherhood of werewolves and operate like a wolf pack. Believe me they will adhere to their leaders’ will. If this is the case, the papacy will have all the proof they need and their fate will be sealed. If they hold true to their retractions then we will have hundreds of relapsed heretics and I am sure that the Archbishop would find a way to aptly dispose of them.”
“Indeed. Paris is a suffragan bishopric in the see of Sens. If all the relapsa are in Paris then I could indeed condemn them as such and put them to the stake.” The Archbishop remarked.
“Excellent!” Philip said enthused. “Either way we look to win.”
“There’s more.” De Nogaret said quietly.
“More!” Philip gulped down his wine.
“De Floyran believes that some of the English Templars may return and attempt to rescue their brethren.”
“Really?” Philip asked, but his voice carried an edge of unease, “De Molay’s son?”
De Nogaret nodded his head. “Yes and I doubt he will be alone. They may try to coincide the rescue with the assembly of the Templar defence. No question they would have heard of the calling and may think it an apt time to strike, especially as the masters and many of the knights are in Chinon. He may have in mind to attempt the same tactic as before.”
“What is De Floyran’s take?”
“He is sure the attempt will be foiled and those that come will soon find themselves in French dungeons.”
“Be mindful. Remember the carnage they caused last time. If they opened the dungeons of Chinon, the whole of France could lay in waste.”
De Nogaret knew that that was unlikely. Much as he didn’t want any of the Templars to escape, he was tempted to remind the King that they were not mindless monsters. They may kill some of the King’s men and De Nogaret did not doubt that he would be in their vengeful sights but he seriously doubted they would savage the innocent masses of France. However, he knew such sentiment was lost on the King, he had made up his mind about the Knights Templar and none could sway it.
“It is unlikely that Galeren de Massard or any of the others know about the new sum of De Floyran’s men. Any brazen attempt will be crushed and the heretics can be burned at your leisure.”
“Mmm,” Philip mused, “I will certainly not underestimate Galeren De Massard again. De Floyran was a fool on that count. I hope he has learned his lesson.”
“I know he has.”
“Then let’s hope there is an end to this and soon.”
“I will make sure that the Templar servants are aware that by confessing to certain practices within the Order, which were not of their making, they will be gaining their freedom. As the diocesan commissions are dealing with the individuals of the Order, I will have the Pope instruct them to set free those who have stood by their confessions. However, the retraction of any confessions will have to be reviewed and any it concerns must remain in prison, they will soon change their minds. This will spur the English knights into action. They will fear for their brethren when they find out that the servants of the Order have been set free. We only need wait for them. They cannot operate undetected under De Floyran and his men’s noses. Everything will turn out just as you wish, your Majesty.” De Nogaret smiled.
Philip smiled back at him, “You never disappoint me De Nogaret.”
De Plaisians tensed angrily. “And what do you plan to do with the masters again?”
“Ah yes, you were concerned about the Pope’s role. Well, I think it may be best to try and get the masters to go back to the original admissions they made, if you want them put to the stake.”
“I want every last one of them put to the stake.” Philip said adamantly.
“Leave it to me.” De Nogaret smiled.
24th February 1310, Château de Chinon
De Molay’s eyes narrowed as he heard the bolt on his cell door slide back and waited for De Nogaret to enter. It had been a while since he had last seen the devious councillor but he knew that he had been left maimed and weakened by Galeren’s attack. It gave him much pleasure. De Molay did not bother to stand when De Nogaret entered, instead he merely closed the journal he was reading and smiled at the man as he limped into the dungeon cell.
De Nogaret noted that De Molay’s conditions of incarceration had improved substantially since his time at Montlhéry. In the corner there was a good sized pallet with a thick straw mattress, pillows and plenty of blankets had been provided. There was a small fire place full of burning wood which provided ample heat, a healthy wood pile and a desk where several books and some writing materials had been made available.
“Enjoying your comfort?” De Nogaret remarked.
“Not as much as I would my freedom.” De Molay answered honestly.
“You will never be free. You have my word on that.”
De Molay nodded. “And you will never get what you desire.”
“Do not count on that.”
“I am sorry but I do.” De Molay said confidently. “You are a fool if you trust De Floyran. What you do not know is that he has a terrible weakness.”
De Nogaret inclined his head curiously and De Molay gestured for him to sit down. De Nogaret sat and rubbed his throbbing leg.
“What weakness?” he couldn’t help but ask though he wanted to act indifferent to the notion.
“De Floyran has human weakness.” De Molay said.
“Who hasn’t?” De Nogaret shrugged.
“I do not speak in human terms but in the requisites of a werewolf.”
De Nogaret knew nothing of the physiology of werewolves, and did not really have a care. All he wanted was their power.
“Speak plainly then,” De Nogaret urged, “or you will lose my interest.”
“De Floyran was born of parents who were both werewolves, so he is purebred and therefore supposed to be amongst the strongest of our kind. However,” De Molay continued, smiling, “though the spirit of wolf and man is usually shared equally in a werewolf, De Floyran is dominated by his human half. It makes him a weaker werewolf. De Floyran loathes weakness because of his own affliction and therefore will not tolerate it. He tries to counter the truth that he despises by crushing weakness around him. That is why he will never mark you. You are a cripple, and as a werewolf you will be no different.”
“That is not true! You lie just to rile me. De Floyran is powerful. I have seen how others are drawn to him.”
“They are drawn to his evil,” De Molay countered, “he is cruel and therefore relies on the fear of others for his power. Besides, De Floyran condemns the marking of humans. He believes a werewolf should be born of the blood. Though he has bitten many people, he has never let any live to become werewolf kind, well, with one exception.”
“You are wrong. I will be another exception. He has promised me and will hold true to that promise when your son is back in a French dungeon.”
“You are wrong on that count too. My son will never be back in a French dungeon.”
“Ah no Grand Master, it is you that are wrong.” He s
miled sinisterly and De Molay felt dread enter his soul.
“Most of your werewolf knights are here under the watchful eye of De Floyran and his new army.” He saw De Molay frown quizzically.
“Your powerful mind has failed you. Did you not hear the screams of your brethren as they perished in flames?”
De Molay’s face turned ashen. “Of what do you speak?” he demanded, but now he knew. He had sensed great suffering amongst his brethren. Its burden had drained and withered him though he had been unsure of the detail of the agony.
“After Galeren’s rescue attempt, it was deemed that it was too dangerous to keep the Templar Knights scattered in dungeons around France and that they must be kept in one or two places watched over by an army of their own kind. But how to create such an army?”
De Molay listened and his heart sank as De Nogaret recounted De Floyran’s methods and success.
“You will all pay for your evil.” De Molay said bitterly and could say no more as he felt the loss of his brothers weigh heavily on his soul. Had he brought them to this end? If only his pride hadn’t gotten in the way and his faith in Clement! If he had listened with an open mind perhaps none would have suffered.
“You must not blame yourself.” De Nogaret said with false sentiment. “Once again, it is your reckless son that forces these measures. Galeren will feel as you do about the loss of his brothers and will want revenge. When he gallantly returns to attempt to rescue the rest of his brethren, including you, then De Floyran will have him.”
De Molay tried to control his anger and his hatred. “What have you come here for? Is it just to torture me?”
“No. As always I mean to assist you where I can.” De Nogaret said but De Molay sensed his deception.
“You are aware that many of the Temple’s servants are also in dungeons. They are scattered but as they are only human fools they pose no threat. The Pope would like to absolve them and set them free. I am sure you would wish to see this done as well. However, you know how the King is. He feels that no Templar is truly innocent and would see them condemned along with your knights. I know that by the retraction of your confessions you believe that the papacy may absolve you but you know that neither the King nor Pope will allow that to happen.
Your retraction only hurts your brothers more. The King and Archbishop of Sens are working on a way of declaring those who went back on their former admissions as relapsed heretics. You know what that means.” He smiled sympathetically, but all that De Molay could do was turn his gaze from him.
“I don’t know why you provoke me with such ease when you know that I could rip your throat out in an instant.”
“True that you could, but I do not believe that you would. You are not a savage and though you may wish for revenge, killing me would not ease your suffering, rather it would only make it worse and you know that.”
De Molay was not sure whether it would be better or worse if De Nogaret was dead but he refrained from ripping his throat out, simply because it would be too good a death for him.
“I am not sure that I do. I choose not to kill you because I gain pleasure from seeing you limping around and knowing that my son was the cause of your maiming.”
The corners of De Nogaret’s mouth twitched irritably. “Your pleasure will be short lived and so will your son’s.” He clenched his fists. “Now back to the matter at hand. If you and the other Templar dignitaries return to your original admissions then none of your knights will be declared relapsed and will be kept from the stake.”
“For now.” De Molay said derisively.
“For now, yes. But the papacy could still absolve you and there is the slightest hope that your foolhardy son may yet free you. Besides, the best part of this is that by doing so Philip will allow the diocesan commissions to find the Templar servants innocent and after an act of contrition they will be freed. He would rather have the confessions of the knights, and for that he will allow the Templar minions to be absolved, but the decision is up to you.”
“Yet another trap,” De Molay spat. “Either way we are condemned.”
“Yes. Whichever way you look at it, you and your kind are damned but your former servants need not be.”
De Molay nodded. In truth he knew that even with the retraction of confessions, he had merely been buying time. Clement may not, in his heart, wish to condemn them but he would have to as Philip would destroy him if he did not. Confessions or not, the papacy would eventually pass severe judgement on them. He could at least save their loyal servants who had been in the dark about the truth for centuries and free them from any suffering and death.
“How will I know that the men have been freed?”
“I will have the Pope draw up a letter for you confirming the fact.”
De Molay sighed, “I suppose you have the appropriate papers for me to sign?”
“Of course,” De Nogaret said rubbing his temples before calling in his assistant. There was another reason De Molay refrained from ripping out the whoreson’s throat. The searing headaches he was able to send De Nogaret could, over time, kill him, albeit slowly and after madness had set in. With every meeting he could probe deeper into De Nogaret’s mind, establishing a connection with it. Knowing his fears and desires he could draw on them and crush his psyche. It was only possible if he remained close, distance weakened the link. If De Nogaret remained at Chinon it would be possible.
Telepathy was a gift that all werewolves possessed but some could take their powers further. His mother had been a powerful seer and De Molay had learned from a young age that his mind could be used as an effective weapon though he had never, until now, used it for ill. As he watched De Nogaret wince as he sorted through the papers with his assistant, De Molay told himself it was nothing more than the wicked councillor deserved.
Chapter Thirty
The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One) Page 53
