Ken Follett - A Column of Fire

Alison and Pierre exchanged a glance. My son? Not his majesty the king?

She went on: ‘The surgeons can do nothing for him.’ Her voice faltered, in a moment of maternal weakness, and she touched a lace handkerchief to her eyes. ‘Dr Paré has told me that Francis is certain to die in the next few days.’

Aha, thought Alison; this is about the succession.

Caterina said: ‘I have brought my second son, Charles-Maximilien, from the Château of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, and he is here with me now.’

That was news to Alison. Caterina had moved fast and shrewdly. In the dangerous moment when one king succeeded another, power could lie with whomever had possession of the person of the new monarch. Caterina had stolen a march on everyone.

Alison looked at Pierre again. His mouth was open in surprise.

Next to him, Cardinal Charles whispered angrily: ‘None of your spies told us this!’

Pierre said defensively: ‘They’re paid to spy on Protestants, not the royal family.’

Caterina separated the two papers in her hand and held one up. ‘However,’ she said, ‘King Francis has found sufficient strength to sign the death warrant of Louis of Bourbon, prince of Condé.’

Several courtiers gasped. Louis had been convicted of treason, but until now the king had hesitated to have him executed. To kill a prince of the blood was an extreme measure: all Europe would be horrified. Only the Guise brothers were keen to see Louis dead. But it looked as if they would get their way, as they usually did. It seemed as if Caterina was going to make sure that the dominance of the Guise family would continue.

Caterina waved the paper. Alison wondered whether the king really had signed it. No one could actually see.

Antoine spoke up. ‘Your majesty, I beg you,’ he said, ‘please do not execute my brother. I swear he is innocent.’

‘Neither of you is innocent!’ Caterina snapped. Alison had never heard her use this tone of voice. ‘The main question confronting the king is whether you both should die.’

Antoine was bold on the battlefield and timid everywhere else, and now he became cringing. ‘I beg you, your majesty, spare our lives. I swear we are loyal to the king.’

Alison glanced at the Guise brothers. They could hardly hide their elation. Their enemies were being roasted — at just the right moment.

Caterina said: ‘If King Francis dies, and my ten-year-old second son becomes King Charles IX, how could you, Antoine, possibly act as regent, when you have taken part in a conspiracy against his predecessor?’

There was no proof that either Antoine or Louis had conspired against King Francis, but Antoine took a different line. ‘I don’t want to be regent,’ he said desperately. ‘I’ll renounce the regency. Just spare my brother’s life, and mine.’

‘You would give up the regency?’

‘Of course, your majesty, whatever is your wish.’

Alison suspected that Caterina’s purpose, from the start of the meeting, had been to get Antoine to say what he had just said. The guess was confirmed by what Caterina did next.

The queen mother brandished the second sheet of paper. ‘In that case, I want you to sign this document, in front of the court here today. It states that you relinquish your right of regency to... another person.’ She looked significantly at Duke Scarface, but did not name him.

Antoine said: ‘I’ll sign anything.’

Alison saw that Cardinal Charles was smiling broadly. This was exactly what the Guise brothers wanted. They would control the new king, and continue to pursue their policy of exterminating Protestants. But Pierre was frowning. ‘Why did she do this on her own?’ he whispered to Alison. ‘Why not bring the Guises in on the plot?’

‘Perhaps she’s making a point,’ Alison said. ‘They have rather ignored her since King Henri died.’

Caterina handed the document to the clerk, and Antoine stepped forward.

Antoine read the document, which was short. At one point he seemed surprised, and raised his head to look at Caterina.

In her new, sharp voice she said: ‘Just sign!’

A clerk dipped a quill in ink and offered it to Antoine.

Antoine signed.

Caterina got up from the throne with the death warrant in her hand. She walked over to the fireplace and threw the document on the burning coals. It flamed for a second and vanished.

Now, Alison thought, no one will ever know whether King Francis really signed it.

Caterina resumed her place on the throne. Clearly she had not yet finished. She said: ‘The accession of King Charles IX will begin a time of reconciliation in France.’

Reconciliation? This did not seem to Alison like any kind of bringing together. It looked more like a resounding victory for the Guise family.

Caterina went on: ‘Antoine of Bourbon, you will be appointed Lieutenant of France, in recognition of your willingness to compromise.’

That was his reward, Alison thought; the consolation prize. But it might help keep him from rebellion. She looked at the Guise brothers. They were not pleased by this development, but it was a small thing by comparison with the regency.

Caterina said: ‘Antoine, please read out the document you have just signed in front of the court.’

Antoine picked up the sheet of paper and turned to the audience. He looked pleased. Perhaps the post of Lieutenant of France was one he had longed for. He began: ‘I, Antoine of Bourbon, King of Navarre—’

Caterina interrupted: ‘Skip to the important part.’

‘I renounce my claim to the regency, and transfer all my powers in that regard to her royal majesty Queen Caterina, the queen mother.’

Alison gasped.

Duke Scarface leaped to his feet. ‘What?’ he roared. ‘Not me?’

‘Not you,’ said Antoine quietly.

Scarface stepped towards him. Antoine handed the document to Caterina. Scarface turned towards her. Her bodyguards moved closer, clearly having been forewarned of this possibility. Scarface stood helpless. The scars on his face turned liver-coloured as he flushed with fury. He shouted: ‘This is outrageous!’

‘Be silent!’ Caterina snapped. ‘I have not called upon you to speak!’

Alison was flabbergasted. Caterina had fooled everyone and seized control. She had made herself effectively the monarch of France. The new power in France would not be Guise or Bourbon-Montmorency: it would be Caterina herself. She had slipped in between the two giants and disabled them both. How devious! There had been no hint of this plan. With skill and confidence she had carried out a manoeuvre that was nothing less than a coup d’état. Angry and disappointed though Alison was, in a part of her mind she could not help admiring Caterina’s strategy.

Still Caterina had not quite done.

‘And now,’ she said, ‘to seal the peace that has been won today, the Duke of Guise will embrace the King of Navarre.’

For Scarface, this was the ultimate humiliation.

Scarface and Antoine glared at one another.

‘Go ahead, please,’ said Caterina. ‘It is my command.’

Antoine moved first, stepping across the multicoloured tiled floor towards Scarface. The two men were almost the same age, but the resemblance ended there. Antoine had an apathetic air, and now underneath his moustache he wore what men sometimes called a shit-eating grin; Scarface was tanned, gaunt, disfigured and vicious. Antoine was not stupid, however. He stopped a yard from Scarface, spread his arms wide, and said: ‘I obey her majesty the queen mother.’

Scarface could not possibly say I don’t .

He stepped towards Antoine and the two men exchanged the briefest possible hug, then separated as if they feared catching the plague.

Caterina smiled and clapped, and the rest of the court followed suit.