The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2

by Shane KP O'Neill

  England. Greenwich Palace in London.

  September 1528.

  Catherine rose from her seat when her guest walked into the room. He offered her a dry smile before bowing his head. “Your Highness.”

  She herself dropped to one knee. He offered her his hand. She took it in hers and kissed his ring. Without a smile she then returned to her seat.

  He looked immaculate in his scarlet cassock. Not a single crease showed on it. His matching zucchetto appeared glued to his head. The queen felt more concerned than ever now. He did not seem in the mood for any niceties and that could not bode well for her. She looked about nervously. An image flashed through her mind of Wolsey lurking in the shadows, but he was not around. Campeggio did not afford her any more time to think about it. He looked intent on getting right down to the business at hand.

  “Thank you for receiving me, your Highness,” he began. He looked about him at the others in the room. “Might we be left alone to talk?”

  She did not want them to leave her alone with him. “Your Eminence, anything you wish to say you can do so in front of my women.”

  He waited in silence. The curtness of her reply did not appease his mood. His action implied he would not proceed until they vacated the room. For a moment she considered leaving herself. Already she found the atmosphere in the room not to her liking. It soured her mood also. But her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know what it was he had come to say.

  “Thank you, your Highness,” he said, once they were alone.

  She gave a gentle nod. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

  He sensed she was stalling him. Her eyes hinted she knew she was not going to like the message he had to deliver. “Yes. Thank you, your Highness. My journey was as pleasant as could be expected.”

  In truth the journey had been long and arduous. It was a trip he had not been too keen to make. The weather was so different in England than in Rome. At his age he did not enjoy this damp climate. But more than that he did not like this whole affair. Even before it had started it was leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

  “You are no doubt aware, Highness,” he began. He paused and looked to the window. “That I have been sent here at the behest of the Holy Father. He wants me to try and deal with the divorce petition as presented by your husband, the King.”

  She nodded, but did not speak. Her heart was racing. She feared that he and perhaps even the Pope himself had lent themselves to Henry’s scheming. The way her life had shaped, and her marriage, she felt there was little now that would surprise her. But she remembered what Ilona had said to her. Be strong and stand up for yourself. That is precisely what she intended to do.

  The situation that faced him was a delicate one. He felt hemmed between a rock and a hard place. In normal circumstances the Pope would just grant an annulment to a monarch if so requested. With the rapid spread of Luther’s doctrines he did not want to antagonise Henry. He feared the risk of the problem in Germany spreading across the water to England. In truth he wanted to grant the divorce. But the collapse of the League of Cognac had tied his hands.

  The power in Europe lay with the emperor. He, in turn, was the nephew of the queen. So any collusion with Henry in this matter could have dire consequences for the Vatican. Indeed in his letters to the Pope, Charles had intimated as much.

  The thought of another attack on Rome filled him with dread. The German rampage the previous year had cost him many of his good friends. If he were to grant Henry his wish it increased the chance of a repeat of it. So to protect the Vatican and preserve the authority of the Church in England he had two choices. He would have to find a flaw in the original dispensation granted by Julius II in law. Failing that he would have to convince the queen to yield to her husband’s request.

  He set about delivering the message from the Pope. “I hope you can understand, Highness,” he began. “This affair is placing a great burden upon the Holy Father.”

  “I can assure you,” she said, slanting her eyes. “The burden upon my shoulders is equally great.”

  “Yes quite, Highness,” he said, though without much sympathy. “But this matter poses him a real dilemma.”

  Catherine sighed to show a lack of interest for the Pope’s concerns. She turned her head away. Surely it was time someone considered her feelings in all of this.

  It did not deter him. “On the one hand he has an obligation to your husband, the King.”

  “I do not need reminding of my husband’s status.”

  He ignored her remark. “He has always been a loyal servant to the Church.”

  “Have I not been a loyal and faithful servant too? Have I not been a loyal and faithful wife?”

  “Yes, Highness. I do not doubt that for a moment. However, as King, your husband has to look to his succession for the good of his country.”

  “The King has an heir!”

  It took him aback when she raised her voice.

  “He has a legitimate daughter! Born of this marriage!” she shouted. “She is his one true heir. Not like the collection of bastards he has roaming the countryside.”

  He blushed. The queen had a valid argument. “Please, Highness. You are not making this any easier for me.”

  “Well how do you think I feel? I am prejudiced against and persecuted in my own home!”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. She put a handkerchief to her eyes to try and stem their flow. It worried her that she might appear undignified before the cardinal. “I am still the Queen,” she said, her voice calmer now. “It would be nice to be treated as such.”

  Campeggio was quiet for a time. He felt more awkward than ever. Her quiet sobs did affect him. He did not want to be here. Nor did he want any real part in this business. But he had no choice and continued despite the queen’s current state.

  “Your integrity is not in question, Highness,” he said. “Nor will it ever be. I am here merely to try and resolve this situation.”

  “There is no way. Not unless you deny his petition.”

  “If only it were as easy as that. The Pope has a duty to the King. At the same time he has an obligation to your nephew, the Emperor. As you no doubt know, he is opposed to it.”

  “Yes indeed. Do you think for a moment he will allow this farce to proceed?”

  “With all respect, Highness. Short of going to war with England there is little he can do to affect these proceedings.”

  “Are you saying you have already made a decision?”

  “No, Highness. Of course not. That would be illegal.”

  “Well, my nephew crushed the might of France. Do not think he could not do the same to England!”

  He shrugged to show he did not care either way. The meeting was not going as he had hoped. The more they talked the more defensive she became. This was before he had touched properly on the issue at hand. He began to wonder how he might even approach the subject now. Her cooperation in this matter looked a distant prospect. He paced about quietly until the tension had cleared.

  She was first to break the uneasy silence. “What is the purpose of your visit?”

  He was glad of the question. It gave him a chance to come right out with it. “Well, Highness,” he said, putting his hands together as though in prayer. “The Holy Father is asking if you would consider retiring to a convent.”

  The request was as much as she could take. She flew into a rage. “You came here to ask me this? How dare you insult me so!”

  “It is the best solution for all parties concerned.”

  “It is not a solution for me!”

  It took an effort for him to keep his resolve. She was really irate.

  “Not from where I sit,” she said. “It appears an easy way out for the Pope!”

  “You would retain your integrity, Highness. You will also be doing a great service for your country and for the Pope.”

  “I will always keep my integrity! How dare you suggest otherwise!”

  “I am sorry, Highness
. I did not mean to offend.”

  “Your very presence is an offence to me!”

  “Very well. I can take it that you will not consider this option?”

  “That is right. I will not. I shall live and die a married woman!”

  He bowed his head to leave. “Our business is concluded then, Highness. You will receive due notice of the date of the petition hearing. Good day.”

  The hearing was set for the next week. The venue was the Legatine Court. Catherine arrived to huge cheers from the crowd outside. It gave her a real lift. She walked inside to see Anne Boleyn stood there, hidden away from the throng. They had a sharp exchange before the queen continued on.

  Inside the Court she looked up nervously at the gallery. It was crowded with members of the nobility. She took a deep breath and held her head high. The king sat upon his throne on the raised area at the top of the room. Wolsey and Campeggio flanked him to either side. She knew the odds were stacked against her.

  The proceedings opened. When asked Catherine walked straight to the witness box. Wolsey took the offensive from the outset. The queen trembled at the ordeal, but was able to smile inwardly. She had a trump card that she was going to play. With every word that left Wolsey’s lips she grew more eager to produce it.

  Wolsey looked imposing where he stood. The pressure was on him to deliver what the king wanted. Everything he did now was under the direct scrutiny of his monarch. He gazed hard at the queen. It was his hope that he might intimidate her into making a mistake. “You say, your Majesty, that your first marriage was never consummated?”

  He almost shouted it at her. She fought to keep her nerve. “That is correct.”

  “You still maintain this position?” he said, harassing her on the point.

  She showed real grit in her voice. “I do,” she said defiantly.

  “You do realise the validity of your union with the King hinges on this point?”

  “So it would appear.”

  “The fact that you may have consummated your first marriage still remains,” Wolsey said. “It gives sufficient grounds for this petition to declare your marriage to the King null and void.”

  “You would call me a liar?”

  “We only have your word for it.”

  He was getting to her. Her blood began to boil. “I swear on the Holy Bible the only man I have ever slept with is my husband, the King! But you doubt my word?”

  Campeggio did not allow Wolsey to answer. He raised an arm to silence him. “Of course not, your Majesty. The Court accepts your answer.”

  Henry observed it all quietly. He did not speak once. This attack on the queen was hard even for him to bear. He did not enjoy seeing it. But he needed a result from this hearing. For that reason he allowed it to proceed.

  Catherine stood up. She had had enough of it all. “I have in my possession a second document from his Holiness, Julius II. It makes this line of questioning totally invalid.”

  She held it aloft for all to see. The gallery above erupted into a hundred whispers at the revelation. It stunned Wolsey and his team. He reached out to try and seize it from her. She pulled it away from his grasp.

  “May I please see it, your Highness?” Campeggio asked her.

  She waited for a moment. When she saw the king nod his head she handed it to a clerk. He in turn passed it to Campeggio. The papal legate took his time to read the document. Henry shifted about in his chair. He knew this new development was not good for him.

  Wolsey could hardly bear the wait. He turned to the king in desperation. “It must be a forgery, my Lord.”

  Campeggio’s heart raced, as he read the Brief. It stated that Julius had granted Henry his dispensation irrespective of whether the queen had consummated her first marriage. This had far-reaching consequences. It meant the Brief lay outside the jurisdiction of the commission. There was no point of law that could make the document invalid. It served to completely arrest the proceedings.

  Nobody in the Court had counted on the fact that he was a man of high principles. The Pope knew it and sent him for that reason. When he finished reading the Brief he turned to Wolsey. “On the contrary I have to declare this document is authentic.”

  Catherine took that as her cue. “On this basis I refuse to accept the legitimacy of this Court, or its findings! The only authority I will answer to is that of Rome and the Pope himself!”

  Dracula lay in a darkened room below the floor of the Court. It allowed him to listen to everything said during the hearing. A broad smile stretched across his face. In saying she recognised only the authority of the Pope, the queen had just driven the largest wedge yet between England and Rome.

  England. Greenwich Palace in London.

  May 30, 1529.

  Those conspiring against Catherine had no choice but to accept the legality of the document. Henry was furious. He did not blame Wolsey, but the cardinal felt the pressure mount against him all the same. It forced him to resort to other methods to break the queen’s resolve.

  He wrote her a letter. Her heart sank when she read it. The letter contained several strong threats. It warned that she could no longer ride out and attract the cheers of the people. If she did then she would incur a charge of inciting a rebellion. But there was more. It stated clearly that if she continued to work against the king’s interests then they would remove her from the City. That would mean a separation from her daughter, Mary.

  She sought out her husband the moment she put the letter down. After a long search she found him in the gardens with Anne Boleyn. Anne’s face dropped when she saw the queen approach.

  “What is wrong, Anne?” he asked her.

  He realised she was looking over his shoulder. Worried at the change in her mood he turned to see his wife.

  “I must go,” Anne said, taking her hand from his.

  “Anne wait!” he shouted, as she brushed past him.

  Catherine stopped to glare at her. The younger woman dropped her head, as she passed the queen by. “Is your shame so much that you must hide your face from me?” she hissed.

  Anne did not respond. She broke into a run and headed straight for her room. Catherine turned to her husband. Her steely gaze unsettled him a little.

  “What are you doing here, my Lady?”

  “I see that unlike your little harlot you still have no shame.”

  “Shame? For what?”

  “That you so openly flaunt your indiscretions. Perhaps it is time the Holy Father knew you want a divorce from your Queen for a roll in the hay with a former maid.”

  “I have done nothing to be ashamed of, my Lady. So mind your tone with me.”

  “You cannot even speak my name these days. Have you forgotten it already?”

  “I cannot talk to you when you are like this.”

  “What else can you expect? You might have the power to walk through this life and do as you wish. But you are still a man who will have to answer to God when you are dead.”

  “Why are you out here? What do you want?”

  “I want you to tell me about this letter.”

  “Letter? What are you talking about, woman?”

  “Oh, you know well. It was your crony Wolsey who penned it.”

  “What did it say?”

  “That I can no longer ride out in front of the people.”

  “Oh that,” he mused. “You are causing unrest.”

  “Unrest? Is it wrong for the people to show love for their Queen?”

  “You are inciting disorder. It has to stop.”

  She laughed in near disbelief. “Oh, Henry. You are becoming a desperate man. You will go to any lengths to get what you want.”

  “I am the King!” he fumed. “That is something you readily forget.”

  “I do not know what you are any more. I only see a man prepared to defy God to fulfil his sexual desires.”

  He raised his hand in a threat to strike her.

  “Go on then,” she said defiantly. “What is stopping you? After
all, you are the King.”

  He withdrew his fist and turned his back on her.

  “I feel so sorry for you,” she said, as she walked away. “But I will pray for the repose of your soul. Somebody has to.”

  The threat in the letter was a serious one. In November, Wolsey saw it through and separated her from her daughter. To this end he made Mary the Princess of Wales and sent her there, well away from her mother. It was the cruellest act that Wolsey had perpetrated against the queen and she loathed him for it.

  In the New Year, Catherine lodged a direct appeal to Rome. Her letter challenged the authority of the Legatine Court. In it she queried the legitimacy of Wolsey and Campeggio to try her case without prejudice. She also appealed to her nephew for his support on this issue. Charles applied pressure on the Pope. In spite of this the petition was set for trial on the last day of May.

  Varkal and Anya stepped up their campaign of torment against Wolsey. Some nights they almost drove him out of his mind. Mihnea too did not relent in his pursuits. He continued to rally the support of Wolsey’s enemies around the country.

  Dracula and Ilona remained quiet in the six months up to the trial. Their visits to the king and queen became less frequent. They elected to spend more time alone on their estate in Yorkshire. Ruxandra ambled about London. She felt desperately lonely now that her lover had settled into the palace.

  Henry grew more impatient with Wolsey with each month that passed. Without Dracula to guide him he lacked direction. It left him prone to frequent temper outbursts to vent his anger. He lent his ear more to those who would see Wolsey gone from office. Men such as Thomas Cranmer and Thomas Cromwell wormed their way into his trust.

  Anne caused Henry problems too. She nagged at him often to push along the divorce. It drove him almost insane at times. They had heated rows in the palace where all could see and hear. He was agitated enough at not sharing her bed. This only served to add to his frustration.

  In April he gave Catherine the option to select who should represent her at the coming trial. She chose three men. They were William Warham, John Fisher and her staunchest advocate, Cuthbert Tunstall.