The other candidate for the regency was Raymond of Tripoli, an intelligent, cultured man who shared John’s respect for the Saracens. He stood on the right side of the hall, surrounded by his supporters, including several of the most powerful barons: the constable Humphrey of Toron, Baldwin and Balian of Ibelin, and the young Walter of Brisebarre. John was surprised to also see Reginald of Sidon, Agnes’s husband, with them.
John slipped through the crowd to find William, who stood in the shadows of the right-hand wall. ‘Where have you been?’ the chancellor hissed.
‘Looking for answers to Amalric’s murder.’
John had told the priest of his suspicions and kept him apprised of his search. William did not disapprove, but nor was he enthusiastic about John’s inquiries. After all, if someone had killed the king, then it would be a small thing for him or her to kill John and William. ‘Well?’ William demanded. ‘Did you find anything?’
‘Maybe. What have I missed?’
‘Baldwin and the seneschal have not yet arrived. I suspect that Miles is delaying because he knows his time is up. Raymond has the support of the most powerful nobles, and he is young King Baldwin’s closest male relative. It will be a tight vote, but he should win. Ah, here is the King.’
The men knelt as Baldwin entered, flanked by Miles de Plancy and Agnes. Baldwin sat and motioned for his subjects to rise. Miles stepped forward to speak, his nasal voice filling the chamber. ‘Welcome, lords and friends. As you know, I assumed the burden of the regency upon the death of King Amalric, requiescat in pace. But my rule was ever only temporary, until the Haute Cour could be summoned to appoint a permanent regent. Today, we shall accomplish that task. Raymond of Tripoli has put forth his name for consideration. And if you feel that I have governed well these past three months, then I humbly ask that you consider confirming me as regent. Are there any other candidates?’
Miles paused to draw breath and then continued. ‘Very well, I-’
‘Wait!’ Agnes said. The seneschal looked to her in surprise. ‘I propose Amalric de Lusignan.’
There was shocked silence and then an uproar as the barons began to talk loudly amongst themselves about this new, unexpected candidate. John looked to William. ‘Who?’
‘That man there.’ William pointed across the hall to the young man who had been speaking with Heraclius and Reynald. He was tall and well built, clean-shaven in the French manner, and had shoulder-length brown hair. He would have been handsome but for a snub nose that gave him a slightly piggish appearance. ‘He has only recently arrived from France,’ William explained. ‘Apparently, Agnes has taken a liking to him.’
John scowled. Was that why she had refused to see him since Baldwin became king? He looked from Amalric de Lusignan to the seneschal Miles, who was standing pale and speechless beside the throne. ‘And apparently she has tired of Miles de Plancy.’
‘No doubt she did not believe he would be named regent,’ William noted. ‘He has outlived his usefulness.’
‘What of this Amalric? Can he win?’
William shrugged. ‘Not likely. But Agnes would not have put him forward if she did not think he had a chance. Look at the barons.’ The men were arguing animatedly in groups of three and four. ‘Men who were sure they would vote for Miles or Raymond are now being forced to decide anew. Most of Miles’s supporters will vote as Agnes wishes. Perhaps some of the other barons will switch their votes from Raymond to this Amalric.’ William nodded towards Miles, who had recovered his composure. ‘We shall see soon enough.’
‘Lords and friends,’ Miles began, his shaky voice just audible above the crowd of men. ‘Lords and friends!’ he repeated more loudly. The barons quieted. ‘In light of this unexpected candidacy, we all need time to consider our options. The King and I shall retire to allow you to reach a decision.’ The seneschal left the hall without waiting for a response. After a moment, Baldwin rose and followed him. Agnes remained behind and crossed the hall to speak with Amalric de Lusignan. He said something, and she laughed. She reached out and picked a piece of lint from his linen tunic. John looked away, disgusted.
‘What now?’ he asked William.
‘I must speak with Raymond.’
William joined Raymond in discussion with Reginald of Sidon. John remained in the shadows along the wall until he noticed Reynald standing alone. He crossed the room. ‘Reynald!’
‘Father,’ Reynald said in a voice so clipped it was almost a grunt.
‘What are you doing here?’ John demanded. ‘You swore an oath to return to France when you were released.’
‘Heraclius has absolved me of my oath.’
The archdeacon had overheard the conversation and now approached. ‘Oaths made to the infidel are meaningless,’ he said in his soft voice.
‘A man’s word is his word, regardless of who he gives it to,’ John countered.
Reynald snorted. ‘Who are you to speak to me of oaths, Saxon? Have you forgotten that you were my man once?’
‘Before you tried to have me killed.’
‘And who is this?’ Amalric de Lusignan asked as he stepped between John and Reynald.
‘John of Tatewic,’ Reynald said. ‘A Saxon.’
‘And a canon of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,’ Heraclius added in a tone that made John’s title sound like an insult.
‘God grant you joy, Father,’ Amalric said. His vacant expression reminded John of a camel chewing its cud. What did Agnes see in him? ‘I am pleased to meet you.’
‘And I you,’ John said grudgingly. ‘You are a recent arrival in the Holy Land, my lord, so let me offer a piece of advice: choose your friends carefully, and your lovers more carefully still.’
John walked away before any of the men could respond. He went to where William stood talking with Raymond. Something was wrong. William was biting his lip and Raymond’s brow was knit.
‘Bad news,’ William told him. ‘The Haute Cour cannot conduct official business without the seneschal or the regent present. Miles is both, and one of Raymond’s men saw him leaving the palace at a gallop.’
‘The conniving bastard,’ Raymond grumbled.
The doors at the back of the hall opened, and all eyes turned. A thin young cleric stepped out and spoke in a trembling voice. ‘I–I’m afraid that the seneschal has been called away from Jerusalem on urgent business. The H-Haute Cour is adjourned until he returns.’ His last words were drowned out by a roar of disapproval from the barons. The cleric retreated quickly.
‘By the devil’s black beard,’ Raymond cursed. ‘I’ll gut the bastard!’
‘But Miles cannot simply leave,’ John said. ‘It cannot be legal.’
‘He is the regent and the seneschal,’ William said. ‘Who is to gainsay him?’
John looked to Raymond. ‘You can seize the regency. The barons would support you.’
‘They would,’ Raymond agreed. ‘But my regency would lack legitimacy. There would be nothing to stop the barons from removing me in turn, if they grew tired of my rule. There is only one thing to do. We must find Miles and drag him back to Jerusalem.’ Raymond studied John for a moment. ‘William tells me that you served King Amalric well, John. You speak Frankish, Latin and Arabic. Like me, you have spent time amongst the Saracens. You understand that they are men, not demons. And you were once a soldier?’