The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)
Page 52
****
“So what did the old goat have to say?” De Floyran said with half an interest, as De Nogaret limped into the inn where they were all lodging for the evening. De Floyran was accompanied by the usual suspects and on the table before him sat three flagons of ale, a savoury pottage, a generous hunk of bread and some meat pasties.
De Nogaret curled his lip showing his displeasure at having had to make his way to the Pope’s residence virtually alone, with only the help of one of the King’s guards as he struggled to mount and dismount his ride. In the meantime, De Floyran had been wasting time getting drunk and wenching as he always did these days, while always looking busy to the King. His murder of some two hundred Templar Knights and creation of the army that he’d promised the King had put him in favour. In addition, other advisors such as De Plaisians and Philippe de Marigny, Archbishop of Sens, seemed also to have risen in status with Philip, while he, cripple that he was, was sent on pointless errands.
He knew the King was fickle but was resentful of the fact that much had been forgotten since his injury had kept him out of matters for several months, such as the indictment that he had so beautifully written condemning the Temple. He wanted his rewards and he did not forget that De Floyran still had not made good on his promise to mark him.
“The usual trollop,” De Nogaret said, sitting down and rubbing his thigh.
De Floyran poured him some ale. “Here, get that down you. Are you hungry?”
De Nogaret looked at the food that De Floyran and his men were tucking into and wrinkled his nose.
“No, I am not.” He replied drinking the ale. “Clement is bowing to procedure. He wants to let the papal commission continue with their investigations so that he has their backing when a final decision is made. It is true what he says, they don’t know what you are so have no urgency on the matter. They are simply conducting an inquiry to discover the truth.”
“At their leisure,” De Floyran pointed out breaking up some of the bread, “Philip is getting impatient.”
“I know very well how impatient the King is!” De Nogaret spat irritably, “what would you suggest? That you put more Templars to the stake in secret? Imagine the papacy’s reaction to that? You have about halved the number of original prisoners as it is!”
De Floyran raised his eyebrows but merely smiled at De Nogaret’s outburst and said: “Someone’s tired.”
“Don’t patronise me,” De Nogaret returned, “your conceited attitude makes me sick and yet you have nothing to be so smug about. Your desire for revenge on Galeren is killing you and I know you still ache for his woman, and yet you have done nothing about that these past years!”
“Still your spiteful tongue, before I cut it out!” De Floyran warned but then smiled, quickly forgiving the councillor. He knew all about De Nogaret’s frustrations and liked to tease him. His feathers were too easy to ruffle and for that reason, his scathing attack did not anger De Floyran like it should. Instead he chuckled and said:
“I have been rather like the papal commission when it comes to my revenge; there is no urgency in the matter. Besides, I have been laying a cunning trap. Why would I risk my neck and go after them, when I know that Galeren, the fool, will come to me and it may be sooner than you think my irritable little friend.”
De Nogaret folded his arms and offered De Floyran a half smile. “Explain your meaning.” He said and took more ale.
“Think about it,” De Floyran said mysteriously, his eyes boring into De Nogaret intently. De Nogaret shrugged and then began to think in earnest. In nearly two years since the arrests of the Templars not that much had happened except the retraction of the confessions of the dignitaries. The diocesan and papal commissions seemed to delay on matters and the King’s hunt for hidden Temple treasure had come up with nothing.
However, De Floyran had put to death several hundred Templars and made loyal to the King seventy others. The remaining Templar prisoners were now in three locations; Chinon, the Paris Temple and Gisors, making the guarding of them uncomplicated for De Floyran’s new army. Some other Templars, who were mere servants and not of the supernatural race, remained in various prisons throughout the country. However, they were cared less about and soon to be released and reconciled with the Church to live out their lives as penitents in monasteries. De Nogaret mulled over events and then was struck by what De Floyran was hinting at.
“The call for the Templar defence!” he blurted out. De Floyran smiled and looking at Botolf, Raymond and Armin nodded his head.
“Exactly! You see, you are clever! I was beginning to think that Galeren’s attack had injured your wits as well as your leg.”
De Nogaret frowned but De Floyran continued. “If Galeren and any other would-be heroes are planning to save any of their brothers then, trust me, they will have been waiting for an opportune moment. Knowing that the papal commission has called such a proceeding and suspecting that all eyes will be on events in Paris, they will be preparing a strike.”
“But most of the Templar Knights are incarcerated in less than a handful of locations, Esquin. Having them all so concentrated is dangerous; it gives them fewer targets to strike. Don’t forget what happened at Montlhéry.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t. It is actually better than having them scattered, besides Galeren and his troop will be coming to Chinon, ’tis where the greater number reside and of course his father. This is exactly what I am counting on. What they do not know is that my own troop has swelled from four to seventy four. I have plenty of men to watch over our prisoners.
Believe me; they will not be coming in so great a number. All we have to do is wait for them, their plan will be thwarted and they will be rounded up by my men, arrested and locked up with the others to await the stake.”
“It sounds promising if you have predicted Galeren’s strategy correctly.” De Nogaret conceded. “But what of your little whore?” he couldn’t help himself adding.
De Floyran bristled. “You will refrain from calling her that, Guillaume.” He waited, staring coldly at De Nogaret and only continued when the councillor bowed his head apologetically.
“Fortunately, Catherine is a fool in her love for Galeren, wilful and disobedient. She will follow him here, despite him ordering her to remain safely behind in Scotland. She will be swept up in the fray and find her way back to me. Willing or not this time, she will be mine.”
“Do you think they really will come?”
“I guarantee it. I am sure that you will want to exact a little revenge on Galeren after what he did to you.”
“Indeed,” De Nogaret agreed, “it is a shame that you are not willing to share Catherine with me. That would serve me best to torment him.”
De Floyran shook his head. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, she is mine and mine alone. I urge you not to mention it again.” He took a swig of ale and then said. “I’ll let you break Galeren’s leg before he goes to the stake if you like.”
“I’ll ask for something better.” De Nogaret said seizing his chance.
“Go on then.” De Floyran said.
“If this trap of yours works and you have Galeren behind bars and the Templar defence is smashed outright, then I want you to mark me, as you have promised.”
De Floyran smiled and without hesitation said: “Alright then.”
“Do I have your word?” De Nogaret asked, trying to quell his excitement as he caught the sideways glance of caution that Raymond Caradas slid his master.
De Floyran nodded. “I give you my word. Your patience has prevailed and you have proven your worth.” De Floyran raised his cup in a toast.
“To the Templar defence!”
De Nogaret struck De Floyran’s cup with his own. “To the Templar defence!” he echoed with a controlled smile, while inside every fibre of his being was ready to burst with elation.
Chapter Twenty Nine