Ken Follett - A Column of Fire

It was impudent of him to ask for Alison so early in the morning. But he had got to know her since the day, more than a year ago, when he had brought Mary the news of the imminent death of King Henri II. Alison’s future, like his, was tied to the fate of the Guise family. She knew that he came as an emissary of Cardinal Charles, and she trusted him. She would know he would not waste her time.

A few minutes later, the servant showed them into a small side room. Alison was sitting at a round table. She had obviously dressed hurriedly, putting on a brocade coat over her nightdress. With her dark hair hastily combed and her blue eyes heavy with sleep, she looked charmingly dishevelled.

‘How is King Francis?’ Pierre asked her.

‘Not well,’ she said. ‘But he’s never well. He had smallpox as a child, you know, and that stunted his growth and left him permanently sickly.’

‘And Queen Mary? I imagine she’s still grieving for her mother.’ Mary Stuart’s mother, Marie de Guise, had died in Edinburgh in June.

‘As much as one can mourn a mother one hardly knew.’

‘I trust there is no question of Queen Mary going to Scotland.’ This was a niggling worry for Pierre and the Guise brothers. If Mary Stuart should capriciously decide that she wanted to rule Scotland, it might be hard for the Guises to stop her, for she was the Queen of Scots.

Alison did not immediately agree, increasing Pierre’s unease. ‘The Scots certainly need a firm hand,’ she said.

It was not the answer Pierre wanted, but it was true. Their Protestant-dominated Parliament had just passed a bill making it a crime to celebrate Mass. Pierre said: ‘But Mary’s first duty lies here in France, surely.’

Happily, Alison agreed with that. ‘Mary must stay with Francis until she has borne him a son, ideally two. She understands that assuring the succession in France is more important than pacifying the seditious Scots.’

‘Besides,’ Pierre said with a relieved smile, ‘why would someone who is queen of France want to exchange that for being queen of Scotland?’

‘Indeed. We both have only the vaguest memories of Scotland: when we left, Mary was five and I was eight. Neither of us can speak the Scots dialect. But you didn’t get me out of bed this early to talk about Scotland.’

Pierre realized he had been avoiding the real subject. Don’t be afraid, he told himself. You are Pierre Aumande de Guise. ‘Everything is ready,’ he said to Alison. ‘Our three enemies are in town.’

She knew exactly what he meant. ‘Do we move immediately?’

‘We already have. Louis de Bourbon is in custody, accused of high treason and facing the death penalty.’ He was probably guilty, Pierre thought, not that it mattered. ‘Gaspard de Coligny’s lodging is surrounded by armed men who follow him everywhere. He is a prisoner in all but name.’ Gaston Le Pin had managed this with the Guise family’s household guard, a private army several hundred strong. ‘Antoine de Bourbon has been summoned to see King Francis this morning.’ Pierre indicated Louviers with a gesture. ‘And Charles de Louviers is the man who will kill him.’

Alison did not flinch. Pierre was impressed with her coolness. She said: ‘What do you need from me?’

Louviers spoke for the first time. His voice was cultivated and precise, his accent that of the gentry. ‘The king must give me a signal when he is ready for me to do the deed.’

‘Why?’ Alison asked.

‘Because a prince of the blood cannot be killed except on the authority of the king.’

What Louviers meant was that it had to be clear, to everyone in the room, that King Francis was responsible for the murder. Otherwise it would be too easy for the king to repudiate the assassination afterwards, proclaim his innocence, and execute Louviers, Pierre, Cardinal Charles, and anyone else who could plausibly be linked to the plot.

‘Of course,’ said Alison, getting the point quickly, as usual.

Pierre said: ‘Louviers must have a few quiet moments with his majesty, so that they can agree on a signal. Cardinal Charles has already explained this to the king.’

‘Very well.’ Alison stood up. ‘Come with me, Monsieur de Louviers.’

Louviers followed her to the door. There she turned. ‘Do you have your weapon?’

He reached under his coat, revealing a dagger two feet long in a sheath hanging from his belt.

‘You’d better leave it with Monsieur Aumande de Guise for now.’

Louviers removed the knife and sheath from his belt, put them on the table, and followed Alison from the room.

Pierre went to the window and looked across the square to the tall pointed arches of the west front of the cathedral. He was nervous and guilt-stricken. I’m doing this for that church, he told himself, and for the God whose house it is, and for the old, authentic faith.

He was relieved when Alison reappeared. She stood close to him, her shoulder touching his, and looked in the same direction. ‘That’s where Joan of Arc prayed, during the siege of Orléans,’ she said. ‘She saved the city from the savagery of the English army.’

‘Saved France, some say,’ said Pierre. ‘As we are trying to save France today.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is all well between King Francis and Louviers?’

‘Yes. They’re talking.’

Pierre’s spirits lifted. ‘We’re about to get rid of the Bourbon menace — permanently. I thought I’d never see the day. All our enemies will be gone.’ Alison did not reply, but looked uneasy, and Pierre said: ‘Don’t you agree?’

‘Beware of the queen mother,’ Alison said.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I know her. She likes me. When we were children I used to take care of Francis and Mary — especially him, because he was so feeble. Queen Caterina has always been grateful to me for that.’

‘And...?’

‘She talks to me. She thinks what we’re doing is wrong.’ When Alison said ‘we’ she meant the Guise family, Pierre knew.

‘Wrong?’ he said. ‘How?’

‘She believes we will never stamp out Protestantism by burning people to death. It just creates martyrs. Rather, we should remove the impulse that creates Protestants by reforming the Catholic Church.’

She was right about martyrs. No one had even liked the overbearing Giles Palot during his lifetime but now, according to Pierre’s spies, he was almost a saint. However, reformation of the Church was a counsel of perfection. ‘You’re talking about taking away the wealth and privileges of men such as Cardinal Charles. It will never happen, because they are too powerful.’

‘Caterina thinks that’s the problem.’

‘People will always find fault with the Church. The answer is to teach them that they have no right to criticize.’

Alison shrugged. ‘I didn’t say Queen Caterina was right. I just think we have to be on our guard.’

Pierre made a doubtful face. ‘If she had any power, yes. But with the king married to a Guise-family niece, we’re in control. I don’t think we have anything to fear from the queen mother.’

‘Don’t underestimate her because she’s a woman. Remember Joan of Arc.’

Pierre thought Alison was wrong, but he said: ‘I never underestimate a woman,’ and gave his most charming smile.

Alison turned a little, so that her breast was pressing against Pierre’s chest. Pierre believed firmly that women never did such things by accident. She said: ‘We’re alike, you and I. We have dedicated ourselves to serving very powerful people. We’re counsellors to giants. We should always work together.’

‘I’d like that.’ She was talking about a political alliance, but under her words was another message. The tone of her voice and the look on her face said she was attracted to him.