The Templars' Last Days

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The Templars' Last Days Page 3

by David Scott


  The music room, in keeping with the rest of the Palace, was decorated to the highest of standards. It was a large square room, dominated by a magnificent chandelier which hung majestically from the centre of the ceiling. The floor was adorned with several couches and chairs upon which William had spent many enjoyable evenings listening to the finest troubadours of the land as they sought royal patronage.

  The large expanse of windows which filled most of the wall opposite to the doors was the usual place for the troubadours to sit and play their latest offerings, and to William's right was the large private area reserved for the King and Queen, their family and personal guests.

  Today, the tall figure of the King was dressed in the drabness of a black linen tunic, in acknowledgement of today being 11th July, with this year being the fifth anniversary of the death of his close companion Pierre Flotte. A large jewel mounted within a silver brooch shone from his left breast as did the silver buckle of the belt around his waist, as the sun’s rays darted off them.

  Pierre Flotte had been brutally slaughtered during Philip's first attempt to annex Flemish lands on 11 July 1302. It was during this battle that many of France's finest noblemen perished, and the mighty French army suffered a major defeat. This unexpected setback caused King Philip to vow that he would take his revenge – not only because of the humiliating manner in which the defeat was inflicted on the pride of French nobility, but in the name of his dear friend Pierre. Besides which, Philip was still desperate for the much needed money he could raise from the acquisition of such a wealthy population.

  It was to be a further two years before King Philip was able to exact his vow of revenge on the Flemish army at the battle of Mons-en-Pévèle on 18th August 1304. Although sustaining some personal injuries in the battle, he finally succeeded in taking back the lands that had been lost. As was the King's way, he then ruthlessly proceeded to tax and pillage the population of these regained lands to pay for the war and to build up his Treasury.

  William was pleased that the King too had remembered the importance of today, and wished that he could have been able to convey better news than that he was about to deliver.

  Protocol dictated that the King would not discuss matters of state in the Queen’s presence. William's patience was now really being put to the test when the King gestured for him to sit whilst the Queen proceeded to play her harp, which she had been learning how to play. Both the King and William listened politely, yet both knew they had more important matters to discuss.

  As the tones of the harp filled both the room and William's ears, his eyes were drawn to the painting which dominated the wall above the large fireplace, that of Philip's father, King Philip III dressed in full armour and sat astride his magnificent war horse. William allowed his thoughts to reflect on the history behind the painting.

  Upon his father's death, Philip IV had inherited the position and possessions which he now enjoyed; unfortunately, he had also inherited all of his father’s debts which had been incurred through his many wars. Philip IV had made this precarious financial position even worse, with his ambition to make France the premier empire in Europe and the costly wars and necessary alliances such a desire brought with it.

  King Philip IV of France had been supreme ruler over his ever growing empire since inheriting the throne at the tender age of 17. However, unlike his father, this tall, handsome ruler had no interest or time for the day-to-day business of managing his lands. Instead he preferred to rely on the strength and guile of his civil servants, some of whom had served his family for many years, to be responsible for the management of his territories, and more especially in the collection of taxes.

  He had initially spread his influence amongst the ruling class in Europe and England through a series of family marriages, gaining him important alliances and sources of income, which he then ruthlessly exploited to his advantage. If needed, he was not slow to call his countrymen to war in order to expand his boundaries.

  This of course all required vast amounts of money, a commodity which the King was desperately short of, ever since his father’s campaigns of war had bled the Royal Treasury all but dry of any reserves it had. Although Philip was acutely aware of his lack of finances, he in no way allowed this minor detail to interfere with his expansive ambitions. Unfortunately for the King, current circumstances meant that he was now more desperate than ever before to find alternative ways of raising money.

  Although, looking around this home, you would never have guessed just how close to financial ruin the royal household really was.

  The Queen's rendition finally came to a close and was rewarded with a polite acknowledgement from both the King and William. The King went over to his Queen, kissed her left hand and, after offering his apology to her for his need to talk with William in the library, led the way to the doors of the music room. William offered to the Queen a respectful bow of his head before quickly following the King out into the gallery. Once alone together in the gallery, the mood of the King noticeably changed and although no words would be spoken in public areas, the need to reach the sanctity which the library offered now became paramount.

  Unfortunately, the library was to be found at the other side of the Palace and would take several more minutes to reach. William, as protocol demanded, following just behind the King, noticed the pace of the King increase as he strode purposefully down the gallery along which William had passed down only a short time earlier. He waved past the footmen without any acknowledgement of their presence, even though each one would stand to attention and offer a polite bow as he approached and passed them.

  By the time they reached the main hallway, the pace of the pair was only just short of breaking into an impolite jog. The King swept through the main hallway and without looking right or left, continued to lead the way and through the doors into the gallery off which lay the library.

  His pace in the gallery was just as frenetic, then the King stopped abruptly. He turned to his right, and waited impatiently for the doormen to open the doors which led into the drawing room. Once inside, William was about to speak when the King indicated with his finger for him to remain silent and in a seamless gesture placed his arm around William’s shoulder and marshalled him towards the doors on the other side of the room.

  The drawing room was a light airy space, and in contrast to all the other rooms in the palace was sparsely furnished, the only furniture being a few couches and chairs which provided a peaceful atmosphere in which to relax, read and contemplate the issues of the day. It was one of the King's favourite rooms. For it was one of only two rooms within the palace where the doors had no doormen waiting upon them. This privacy offered the King the freedom to speak without any worries of his discussions being repeated beyond those four walls. It was therefore incumbent upon William to reach forward and open the library door. Phillip strode through the door, followed by William, who closed the door behind him.

  In contrast to the drawing room, the library had a suffocating atmosphere about it. Three of the four walls were entirely covered with bookcases which were full to overflowing. The fourth wall was also covered in bookcases, only to be broken by the space for the two windows which offered the only light into the room.

  King Phillip always felt at ease in this room. For in here, within these books and scrolls, he was surrounded by the history of his family, whose wise counsel he could take from their legacy, as well as from the thoughts of other wise men of a previous age. More importantly, the room offered the King a sanctuary of privacy, being the only place where he was away from the constant attention of the members of his court.

  In the centre of the room was a large round table, around which were arranged six chairs. William's eyes had now adjusted to the change in the light from the airy drawing room to the relative darkness of the library and was again about to speak when he became acutely aware that there was somebody else in the room.

  William squinted, trying to bring into focus who
this person was, but the figure was seated, with only the back of his head being visible to his gaze. Who was he, and what on earth was he doing in here, today of all days?

  Chapter 3

  Following their meeting with William de Nogaret it had been arranged for the Papal party to make their way from Lyon to Avignon in order to participate in a secret meeting with Giles, Jon and myself. The best way to do this was by sailing down the River Rhone, as this means of transport would most easily allow the passengers to remain out of view – that and the fact that the sight of a Templar hulk on the waters was an everyday occurrence which would draw no attention from the people on shore as they sailed through the towns and villages. More importantly this mode of transport would shield its very important guests away from the gaze of King Philip's spies and agents.

  It had been organised for the Papal delegation to leave for the docks under the cover of darkness and they travelled in an unmarked coach the short journey across Lyon. It was almost a moonless night that evening and the town was unusually quiet which helped to make the short trip across town both quick and unhindered. It was, by necessity of the serious matters being discussed, only a small Papal delegation, consisting of the Holy Father, his trusty legate Matthew Cisena and a young priest, Guy d'Euse, whom the Pope had taken under his direct tutoring and who also doubled as his valet.

  On reaching the quayside the coach made its way directly to where the Templar hulk was moored. The passengers quickly and silently transferred from the coach into the depths and security offered to them by the hulk, whilst the Templar sailors brought on board what little luggage there was accompanying these important guests.

  The hulk offered the Papal party limited but effective accommodation. For the Templars had modified their vessels by raising and enclosing one end of their hulks, which would provide the Templars with better protection should they be attacked. It had the unintended advantage of also providing them with not only sleeping quarters, but also protection against the weather. The accommodation offered basic bunk beds all around three sides, and in the centre a table which went the length of the enclosed area with a bench on each side of it.

  Given the importance of the guests, the Templar sailors had naturally given their quarters over to the Pope and his two companions, so they could have both privacy and shelter, but more importantly, it would keep their presence shielded from any unwelcome eyes, especially King Philip’s spies and agents whom he had scattered across the length and breadth of his lands.

  Guy had finally finished arranging everybody's luggage into these new cramped quarters, when the Pope brought the crew together for prayers, which must have meant that they were now ready to set sail. It was around midnight when all was ready and the hulk cast off from its moorings, easing its way out of the harbour. Guy joined the small congregation in prayers, following which the Papal party retired to their bunks for the evening.

  It was felt that the journey from Lyon to Avignon would take around two days of uncomfortable sailing for Pope Clement V, who was never too keen travelling on water. However, by ensuring that his Papal Father was as comfortable as his quarters would allow, and in need of nothing further, Guy bid him goodnight. There was nothing more that Guy could now do other than try and get some sleep himself, so he too now retired, leaving the Templar sailors to get on with their jobs.

  To Guy's ears, the rhythm and noises of the hulk were unfamiliar and strange. The gentle swaying motion of the deck was unsettling, as was the constant noise caused by the flapping of the Templar Beausant flying high on the mast which, together with the endless creaking of the timber of the Templar hulk as it made its way down the free-flowing river Rhone, would take some little time for him to adjust to and feel comfortable with. Eventually tiredness took over and he drifted into sleep. For Guy, the hours of darkness seemed to pass quickly, from which he concluded that he must have slept soundly.

  Next morning, the Pope and his companions awoke almost at the same time, and gathering the Templar sailors together, he led them in morning prayers. It was a further two hours later before the hulk was brought to a halt at the side of the river Rhone and securely moored. The Templar sailors lowered the boarding planks and the Papal party were invited to go ashore to stretch their legs and join them in breakfast.

  The sight which greeted the delegation could not have been any more different than the surroundings in which they had boarded only a few hours ago. Instead of the claustrophobic surroundings of buildings and the enclosed streets of Lyon, they were now in the lush green countryside of Provence, with not a single building or person in sight.

  Dew still glistened on the grass as the sun had only just started its daily journey from East to West; the silence of the countryside being broken only by the heavenly sounds of the morning tunes of the birds and the gentle lapping of the water against the river banks. For both the Pope and Guy, the feeling of solid ground under their feet was most reassuring and welcome.

  The Templar sailors moved in almost complete silence, each one apparently knowing what to do in a well rehearsed and practised ritual. Before long the food and drink were ready and the crew gathered together, prayers were given, and a much needed breakfast eaten. The atmosphere was one of tranquility amongst the diners. There was not much by way of conversation between the Templar sailors, for which Guy was thankful, as his mind was full of the difficult task that lay ahead and he had little wish to enter into small talk.

  After breakfast had finished, and prayers of thanks given, the Templar sailors just as quickly and as silently as before cleared the area, whilst the Papal party were assisted back onto the hulk, and in no time at all, the vessel was once more flowing down the river Rhone.

  The river snaked its way through the beautiful countryside, having over the many centuries been cutting its path through hill and valley with equal ease in its endless search for the mother sea. Occasionally, the hulk passed by small hamlets and pockets of farmhouses that were scattered along the river’s banks, and whose water gave the gift of life to the lands it shared.

  Our ritual of lunch and dinner followed the same process as breakfast, and just as quickly as Guy had awoken to daybreak, it was now time for evening prayers and once more to try and get some sleep. As he reflected on the day, Guy was pleased that his Papal Father had been given this full day of rest which, after the hectic and stressful events of the last few days, he must have been thankful for, and with this thought Guy drifted once more into sleep.

  He was awoken from his slumber by the strong feeling of a presence in the room. Without moving any part of his body, he opened his eyes in order to identify what this presence was. It took a moment or two before his eyes adjusted to the dim light, before he became aware of the Pope, already dressed , kneeling before his Holy Cross which always accompanied him on his travels, praying to God.

  The Pope must have been up and about very early, for dawn was still trying to break; however, this was not unusual for his Holy Father, for when he was sorely troubled he would seek both guidance and strength from the Lord for the days ahead. Guy knew better than to disturb his Papa at a time like this and remained patiently in his bunk until he had finished his prayers.

  As the day began to shake off the darkness of night, the hulk came to life once more and the routine of breakfast quickly followed. The scenery was not much changed from yesterday, and the tranquility and peace of the countryside continued to act as a welcome counter-balance to the torment and crisis in which the Papal party found themselves.

  After lunch, the Pope made his excuses and retired to his bed for some rest and perhaps a little sleep. The Templar sailors busied themselves with their duties, which left Guy and Matthew alone on the deck with a long, warm afternoon stretching out before them. The hulk was a craft built as a working vessel and not for comfort. Although it had none of the glamour attached to the ocean going warships of the fleet, these small hulks nevertheless formed an important link in the sizable armada under
the direct control of the Templars. Being constructed with a flat bottom, it made these vessels ideal for navigating the inland rivers. Nor was it very large being only some 60 feet long by 12 feet wide, though towering over its frame was a single central mast from which the Templar Beausant proudly fluttered in the wind.

  These vessels were the life blood of the commercial arm of the Templars, being able to transport the goods from the major ports inland to be distributed amongst the populations that had no direct contact with the open sea. And in a like manner, returning from the inland towns with locally made goods to the main sea ports, where they would be loaded onto the Templar ships for export across the seas to any of the many trading parties the Templars had established over the decades.

  Finding a quiet spot towards the front of the hulk, Guy and Matthew sat and chatted. The conversation initially covered many aspects of Church business and as Guy knew only too well that Matthew was far more knowledgable about the Pope's life and the events which had brought him and them to this critical position, he manoeuvred the conversation around to recent Papal history in order for Matthew to enlighten him.

  Matthew explained it was a long story, for the history of conflict between King Philip and the Papacy went back over many years and covered the pontificate of the two previous Popes. However, as they had time to spare and nothing else to occupy themselves with, he would try and provide Guy with the background knowledge he was seeking, and the series of events which had brought the Papacy to this current crisis point.

  To cover all the necessary background information, Matthew took Guy some ten years back in time to the pontificate of Pope Boniface VIII, whose first act when he was elected was to return the Papal Curia to its rightful home in Rome. Pope Boniface VIII was a strong-willed character and had brought to his Papacy his love of both the temporal and the political affairs within Europe, a passion which he had developed whilst a Cardinal serving as the papal legate for Pope Celestine V over many years.

 

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