Read Mathilde 01 - The Cup of Ghosts for Free Online Page B

son, also named Edward, would marry Philip’s infant daughter Isabella. At the same time Edward of England, a widower, agreed to marry Philip’s whey-faced, pale-skinned sister Margaret; that marriage went ahead, a treaty was sealed and Gascony was restored to the English. Edward of England, however, did not wish to marry what he calls his Prince of Wales, his heir apparent, to a French princess. Do you know why?’
    I shook my head.
    ‘Philip of France dreams other dreams,’ Monsieur Simon whispered. ‘That one day he will become the new Charlemagne of Europe. He has three sons, Louis, Philippe and Charles. He has married them, or he intends to marry them, to the heiresses of Burgundy so as to take that rich land back within the fiefdom of the crown of France. The same is true of Gascony. In the marriage treaty Philip has stipulated that one grandson will sit on the throne of the Confessor at Westminster; another will become Duke of Gascony. You see the plan, sooner or later, preferably sooner rather than later: Gascony will be brought under Philip’s rule, while he will control his grandson the English heir, first through the marriage of Isabella and secondly because any fruit of that union will be his kinsman.’ Monsieur Simon spread his hands. ‘Peter Dubois, Philip’s own lawyer, has seen France’s future, a kingdom with natural borders: the sea in the west, mountains to the south, the Rhine to the east.’
    ‘And the northern principalities?’ I asked. ‘Flanders, Brabant, Hainault?’
    ‘Weak,’ Monsieur Simon retorted. ‘To be taken by conquest. Only Philip found to his cost that it is not as easy as he thinks.’
    I nodded in agreement. Five years earlier, France’s finest armies, its massed chivalry, had been humiliatingly defeated by Flemish pikemen at Courtrai.
    ‘But Philip still dreams on.’ Monsieur Simon was talking as if to himself. ‘Edward of England died last July near the Scottish border, still determined to bring that kingdom under his rule. His heir apparent, the Prince of Wales, Edward of Caernarvon, is not of the same mould as his father; he’s a courtier, a poet. He broke off the war with Scotland and hastened south to the fleshpots of London and the loving embraces of his close friend Peter Gaveston, a Gascon, the son of a witch or so they say. Whatever the truth, young Edward loves Gaveston more than anyone in the world.’
    ‘Yet he is to be married to Isabella?’
    ‘Two problems have flourished like weeds.’ Monsieur Simon winked at me. ‘Edward of Caernarvon refuses to believe the allegations against the Templars.’
    My heart warmed to this prince I’d never met.
    ‘That came as a surprise to Philip,’ Monsieur Simon whispered. ‘But the second was an even greater insult. Edward of Caernarvon seems, how can I put it, most unwilling to fulfil the obligations of the treaty and marry Philip’s daughter Isabella.’
    ‘And what has that to do with me?’
    ‘Oh, everything.’ Monsieur Simon stared down at the floor, lost in his own thoughts. ‘I know that,’ he whispered. ‘Truly I do, the machinations of princes. In the end,’ he lifted his head, ‘Edward of Caernarvon is a weakling. He is playing games. Sooner or later he will succumb to Philip’s demands. The Templars of England will be arrested, the order destroyed. More importantly, Edward of Caernarvon will do what Philip of France says. He will marry Isabella, either in France or in England, but that marriage will take place. Now I’ve been to that mist-strewn island with its rough-tongued people. Philip of France wishes to organise a household for his young daughter, to accompany her to England. In many ways it will mean exile for life. As you can imagine, Mathilde, very few are eager to join her.’
    ‘And I am to go with her?’
    The merchant tapped me gently on the cheek.
    ‘It’s the safest place for you. The persecution of the Templars will continue. Philip will ask for lists to be drawn up.