The crypt attendant came back and I nodded for him to go about his duty. I stayed and watched, saying good-bye to Sophie, Phillipe, and the Turk who had spared me in Antioch.
The sarcophagus was sealed for good and pushed into the wall, where it fitted almost seamlessly into the stone, then mortar was smoothed in the cracks.
It would lie there forever.
Or until it was needed again.
Chapter 152
CHURCH BELLS WERE RINGING.
As I came out of the crypt, Emilie rushed up, excited. “We have visitors, Hugh! Archbishop Velloux is arriving at the gates.”
“Velloux…?” I did not know the name.
“From Paris.”
Paris ! I did not know if this was good or bad. The Church had excommunicated us. If this was upheld, all we had fought for could be lost. No matter what Anne vowed to rectify, without the Church we were outcasts, more dead than alive.
I hobbled into the courtyard. Anne stood by expectantly. Bishop Barthelme too. From all about, my men gathered around the courtyard: Odo, Georges, Alphonse, Father Leo.
The archbishop of Paris! This was a humbling thing.
As the portcullis was raised, a column of soldiers in crimson surcoats galloped two by two into the courtyard.
Behind them, an ornate carriage drawn by six strong steeds.
It bore the cross of Rome, insignia of the Holy See.
My heart was leaping out of my chest. Emilie squeezed my hand. “I have a good feeling,” she whispered.
I wished I could say I did as well.
A captain of the guard jumped off his mount and placed a stool in front of the carriage door. When it opened, two priests [444] wearing scarlet skullcaps emerged. Then, a moment behind them, the archbishop, about sixty by my estimate, his hair gray and thinned, wearing a crimson robe and a large gold cross around his neck.
“Your Eminence,” Bishop Barthelme exclaimed. He and his priests dropped to one knee. Slowly, everyone around them did the same. “This is a great honor. I pray you did not have too unsettling a trip.”
“We would not have,” the archbishop curtly replied, “were it not that on your word we went first to Treille, expecting to find a rebellion there, ‘heretics and thieves.’ Yet instead we found only peace and order. And, remarkably, no lord. I am told there was a battle fought here.”
“There was, Your Grace,” the bishop said.
“Well, you look no worse for wear, Barthelme,” the archbishop observed. “Obviously the Church still functions. Show me, where are all these dreaded lost souls?”
“Why, they are here,” the bishop said, stabbing his finger toward my men. “And here.” He pointed at me.
The archbishop looked closely at us. “These men seem quite benign, for apostates and heretics.”
The bishop’s face turned white. A few snickers were heard around the square.
“The duke felt…”
“The duke obviously felt,” Velloux interrupted, “that the Church’s laws were available, as were you, to enact his personal bidding.”
For the first time, the tightened bowstring that was my chest began to relax.
“Your Grace.” Anne stepped forward and knelt. “Your presence is most welcome, but there are matters of civil law that also need to be addressed.”
A voice called from out of the carriage. “That is why I came along, my dear.”
[445] A stately figure emerged, wrapped in a purple cloak embroidered with gold fleurs-de-lis. Each of the soldiers immediately dropped to a knee.
“Your Highness,” Anne exclaimed, her face blanched. She immediately rose and curtsied, eyes fastened to the ground. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Words I could scarcely believe.
“The King…”
The entire square dropped to one knee. The King! He had answered my call. I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Then I heard something that stunned me even more.
“Father!” Emilie exclaimed.
Chapter 153
FATHER! Did I hear right? My body slammed to a halt. I know that my jaw hung wide.
The King’s eyes were drawn to Emilie. I could not tell if he was pleased or stern. “Has your absence from the court made you forget, child, who it is you address?”
“No, my lord,” Emilie replied. She knelt and averted her eyes. Then she lifted them, twinkling with amusement. “Father…” She exhaled and smiled.
“So.” The King signaled for us to rise. “Show me the misguided fool who I am told is responsible for this unrest.”
Emilie shot forward, clasping my arm. “You are mistaken, Father. It is not Hugh who is responsible but-”
“Quiet,” the King interrupted, his voice raised. “I was referring to Stephen, the supposed duke, not your damned jester,” he said.
Emilie, her eyes moist, broke into a blushing smile. She took my hand.
“The duke is dead, my lord.” Anne came forward. “He died, realizing his shame, by his own hand.”
“By his own hand…” The King glanced at the archbishop and snorted. “Then it is he, after all is done, who is withheld from God’s grace. As for the rest of you heretics…” He turned [447] and faced my men. “Consider yourselves restored. I speak for Archbishop Velloux when I give you back your souls.”
A joyous cheer rose up. The. men hugged one another and threw their fists in the air.
“Now, as for you, jester…” The King turned back to me. “You have made demands that if granted would throw half the country into disarray.”
“No demands.” I bowed my head. “Only the hope to return to our homes in peace, and some manner of law to redress ills perpetrated on us.”
The King sucked in a breath. For a moment I thought he would go into a rage. Then he relaxed. “My daughter has been talking about this very thing for years… Perhaps it is time.”
The courtyard exploded in cheers, but he immediately put up his hand to stop them. “The fact remains, you have risen up against your lords. Against those you were pledged to. The law of liege and serf is not at issue here. Some justice must be meted out.”
Emilie pushed me down. I knelt.
“You must be educated in the manner of the nobles,” said the King.
“My lord. I was a jongleur and an innkeeper. I am as far from highborn as one can be.”
“Yet you will have to be educated.” The King cocked his eye. “If you intend to marry my daughter.”
I slowly raised my head. I looked about, a smile spreading on my face.
“Father!” Emilie gasped and pulled me to my feet. Then she ran to the King and without so much as a curtsy, threw her arms around him.
“I know, I know. Fools are everywhere, even those who wear the royal robe. But first, I need a word with your boy.”
He came to me, evaluating me. Then he placed an arm [448] around my shoulder and ushered me away. I felt some rebuke about to come.
“Not to seem ungrateful, son, for I know Emilie is in your debt… but in your letter you mentioned a lance.”
I took a breath, then spoke.
“It was destroyed, Your Highness. Hurled into flames in the fighting here. I’m afraid there is nothing left.”
The King sighed deeply. “It was the lance that pierced our Savior’s side? Such a relic was more valuable than my own crown. You are sure of it, lad?”
“Only sure that it has produced the most miraculous of outcomes. Look around you, Sire.”
He looked-at the ebullient men, at his daughter’s eyes wet with joy-then nodded wistfully. “What a treasure that would have made. But perhaps it is just as well… In my experience, such things are better left the stuff of legends and myths.”