‘All men can see
that the King acts with a pure heart, and is not moved by greed as some evil
men would say, as he has enough property already . . . more than any European
prince. Therefore, he does not need the Templar property and has from the very
beginning committed the goods to faithful persons and not his own officials. He
wishes only to see justice served . . . Justice to God, and justice to His
people. All that remains is for your Holiness to condemn the Order. On this
matter the King urges you not to delay, but to act with the speed such an affair
requires. It is our hope then that your Holiness will deem it suitable to begin
by relaxing the suspension on the inquisitors so that they might proceed
against individuals.
‘If the Lord
Pope continues to delay matters, the King will be forced, because of his piety
and his love for his people, to act, since he will not be able to restrain good
Christians whose desire for justice may urge them to rise up against the Temple
before a judgement can be made.’ He paused momentarily and raised his voice slightly
in a crescendo. ‘Both Louis and Philip III died in the service of the Church,
my lord, many French barons and countless citizens. Therefore, when the Kingdom
asks for a quick expedition of this affair, Holy Father, it should please you
to do as they bid at once! Otherwise it shall be necessary to speak another
language to you!’
Clement heard
the thinly veiled threat. There was a silence, thick and deceitful, even
affable. The speaker had finished and the King smiled at Clement from across
the way.
It was time for
Clement to give his answer. His head suddenly cleared and although a gasp
escaped his lips and there was a trickle of sweat over his brow, he found the
strength to speak. He glanced about at the strong military presence in the room,
said a silent Ave, and began.
‘It is necessary
to hate evil... for the prophet Malachi tells us that we must tread down the
wicked, for they shall be ashes under the soles of our feet. It is necessary to
hate evil...for Amos tells us that all sinners shall die by the sword. It is
necessary for all men to hate evil, but it is incumbent upon all prelates and
especially the Vicar of Christ, the Lord’s advocate, to do so. However, it
pleases God that it must be done justly, for we are also told we must love the
good.’
He paused to
wait for another spasm to pass. His hands trembled. His knees were melting like
wax left out in the sun. He held his breath a moment. He could hear whispers.
He could see faces, twisted in hatred and contempt. The King coughed, it echoed
in the large hall. Then the Capetian leant to one side, whispering into the ear
of his lawyer. Clement saw the other man smile. From out of the corner of his
eye he saw his attendant, unforthcoming. The man never knew when he was needed.
The spasm passed
and Clement swallowed hard. He could taste bile. He put a hand to his brow and
found it now hot and dry. ‘Before my election as pope, I had known very little
of the Templars, for there were few nobles of my native region who had entered
the Order. Since my
appointment
to the throne of Peter I have come to know many of them, valuing
them as good men. However, let me make it clear to this assembly that if it is
shown to me that the Order is guilty of such things as have been spoken of it,
I and my cardinals will act quickly, though we shall not act precipitously, but
honestly and steadfastly, as exemplified by our Lord when he was confronted by
evil. It is true there were some discussions on the subject of the Templars in
Lyons between the King and I, before the arrests, but then I had not believed
the accusations and, to tell the truth, I could not even tell you what in
particular was discussed. But in no way did I send letters authorising the King
to arrest the Order.’
There was a
general stir and he waited, hoping another spasm would not rack him before he
finished.
‘As Pope I am
head of the Church founded firstly on the blood of Christ and secondly on the
blood of the martyrs, and despite my status, my precious robes, my sumptuous
jewellery that make up the exterior aspects of my office, I bear a burden. I
cannot sanction and take part in the destruction of an Order that has, up until
recently, shed its blood freely and unselfishly for Christ, not without clear
evidence and great deliberation.
‘I believe the
King has acted out of piety, out of a desire to hunt down lasciviousness
wherever it is found, and not out of greed, since – as was said by the
King’s lawyer a moment ago – he does not intend to appropriate the
Order’s goods, but that the goods be placed at the disposal of the Church in
the matter of the Holy Land.’ He paused, looking directly into Philip’s fixed
eyes, elated that he, by his own cunning, had turned the tables. ‘And as I see
the urgency of this matter I will give a forty-day indulgence to whosoever will
say five times per day one Pater Noster and seven times an Ave Maria, that God
might grant me to proceed in such a way that it might be to His pleasing.’
He rose,
encumbered by heavy robes, the apparel of which was worked in gold and
embroidered with ornaments of stones, and continued out of the hall with
difficulty, accompanied by his cardinals.
Once in his
chambers he removed his pontifical robes and, ushering out his servants, sat
upon his
chamber-pot
and discharged, in pain and
difficulty, the contents of his bowels.
T
he evening was cool and
pleasant, but Clement paced his apartment wearing a frown and fondling his
rosary, recalling de Plaisians’ words during a second meeting of the public
consistory. In a nutshell he had suggested that the Pope was to become another
Anastasius – that pontiff struck down by God and repulsed by the clergy
for condoning heresy – if he did not move on the Templars.
Clement longed
to be away from Poitiers and the King’s long shadow. Soon he and a small number
of cardinals would flee, firstly to Bordeaux and then hopefully to Avignon
– a city bought by Pope Gregory for the use of the papacy. He was putting
his tail between his legs and running, he knew that much, but he hoped the
distance between France and his curia might ease the King’s hold on his
testicles.
In Poitiers
things had become intolerable: Philip had his troops everywhere and his
influence on the French cardinals had caused them to despise Clement for not
being loyal to the French Crown. On the other hand, the other cardinals, the
Italians, the Germans, the Spaniards, hated him for the opposite.
He would have left
long before, but there remained a piece of unfinished business he must attend
to.
He gave a belch;
his stomach was distended and there was
a fullness
between his legs. Eventually he would do what he had promised the King, he
would exterminate that Order of prideful monks. But how to stall Philip long
enough to give the astrologer time to find out where the spiritual treasures of
the Order were hidden? The Order’s extinction and its goods were his currency.
He would have to wave that in Philip’s face and hope for the best.
He shook his
head, sighed sighs, and let loose a tempest of flatulence. At that moment an
attendant announced a visitor. Immediately Clement assumed a stance that he
hoped would affect a perception of power and magnanimity, of charity and
generosity: one hand upon his pectoral cross and the other at his side, with
his chin slightly raised and his plucked brows arched affably in inquiry.
A man entered
the room incognito, followed by the King’s men disguised. Below a lowered cowl
the man ordered them out and, taking off his robe, stood before the pontiff.
‘Charles of
Valois,’ the Pope said the words sweetly but in his mind they came spitting out
as if they were flies, ‘you have been on a long journey.’ He found his chair
and sat down.
Charles of
Valois went down upon the tessellated marble and kissed the golden
cross embroidered
over the Pope’s white chamois shoes, and
then his pontifical ring. His balding head bent, awaiting permission to speak.
‘Welcome,’ said
the Pope. He put a hand over the balding head and gave a fleeting blessing.
‘How is his Royal Highness, I hope he is well?’
Charles of
Valois remained kneeling and spoke with his head bowed, ‘He is well, Holy
Father, and pleasantly affected by your note. Like you, he seeks, at all costs,
to come to a mutually satisfactory conclusion.’
Clement looked
down on Charles. The man was overweight, upon his face there grew a large nose
and there were blotches on his cheeks. Through that ill-fated marriage to
Catherine of Courtenay, he was Emperor Pretender to Constantinople, and it was
well known that he longed to become Emperor of Germany. With the King’s brother
on one side as emperor and Philip on the other as king, Clement would be
squeezed like a lemon. He smiled. ‘I am gladdened,’ he said, fingering his
cross. ‘Now stand up . .
.
stand
up.’
The man made to
stand with difficulty, grasping at a nearby table with nervous fingers burdened
with rings.
‘Tell me the
purpose of your visit.’
The count was
thoughtful a moment and then began. ‘The King is anxious to move swiftly on the
matter of the Templars, your Holiness, as you know, though he realises the
delicate situation in which you find yourself and wishes to assist you wherever
possible. He realises that the magnitude of this matter requires your Holiness
to hear with your own ears what has repulsed so many and so he proposes to
bring to Poitiers seventy-two Templars, so that they may attest to the truth of
their confessions before your person.’
‘Why has he not
done so before this?’ asked the Pope, who already knew the answer. He moved
from one buttock to the other, wondering why a cunning king would send such a
man to him, a man whose intelligence was equal to that of an ass.
Charles of
Valois found his reply as he spoke, ‘The King had not previously sent you the
Templars . . . because there are so many scattered all over His Kingdom. Only
now has it been possible to have them before your Holiness. The King is convinced
that once you hear their declarations you will understand his righteous anger
enough to see your way to sanctioning the inquiry – as the King knows you
would have done, had it been possible to bring the Templars before you sooner.’
He paused, a little put out, his convoluted rhetoric falling thinly between
them.
Clement shrugged
and fell into a brown study, moving again from one buttock to the other. ‘I
have heard that they have denied their affirmations, many speak of tortures,
horrible, inhuman . . . Dominicans are by nature impatient creatures . . .’ He
crossed his hands around his waist and constructed his face in a look of
disgust.
‘Holy Father,’
the other man gave back nervously, ‘it is known that the Devil does not reveal
his detestable practices easily. It was for this reason that Innocent himself
sanctioned torture and inquisitors have used it ever since . . . The accused,
we assure you, will confess their errors to your Eminence spontaneously and
without coercion, they will humbly beg for absolution and reconciliation.’
‘Yes . . . yes .
. .’ He waved a hand. ‘However, there are . . . details . . . The sacred
college of cardinals, my dear Count, is not immune to influences . . . far be
it for me to mention what is obvious and plain, namely, that the Temple has
many powerful friends all over Europe, who assert, quite naturally, by means of
one avenue or another, a degree of persuasion . . . The perplexities are
manifold . . .’
‘Without doubt,
your sublimity, without doubt!’ the count said. ‘However, the papacy is
irrevocably committed before all Europe by the bull of November. Understandably
your Holiness prevented the inquisitors from continuing with their work of
interrogating the accused until you understood the matters at hand. Now that
you are informed, your Holiness, there should be nothing to prevent you from
restoring their powers, and it is simply, if I may say so, a question of the
terms on which your Holiness will allow the entire affair to proceed.’
‘As easy as
that, Count! If only it were so.’ He scowled and a dull gleam appeared in his
cloudy eyes.
‘For his part
the King is willing,’ the other man offered, ‘to remit Templar property to special
curators appointed to administer it until the completion of the trials. The
overall surveillance should be the responsibility of the bishops in whose
diocese the goods are situated. Good, faithful persons, who are discreet and
prudent
shall be named by both the Holy See and the King,
accountable to the King’s officers and the prelates. He suggests that your
Holiness might provide superintendents to inspect the entire account annually,
whose safekeeping would be the responsibility of the Kingdom of France –
of course. Meanwhile he proposes that the persons of the Templars should be
placed into your hands, Holy Father; however, as it is impossible for the
Church to safely guard so many men – being ill prepared for such an
arduous undertaking – the King will extend the courtesy of his prisons
and guards, at the request of the Church. The prelates, your Holiness, should
then be allowed to do what concerns them.’