Nad
Known Troublemaker
With thanks to Jack Merchant and JK Rowling.
Ferdinand stared at the comatose figure of his wife. Though a thousand different questions clashed against a thousand difficult troubles in the labyrinth of his thoughts, at that moment he could only stand and watch his wife's peaceful slumber.
"How beautiful she looks," he whispered, a soliloquy. "How calm and restful. How composed is her posture, how serene her expression. Surely there must be some mistake?"
He turned slowly towards the entrance to her chamber. Standing patiently beside the door was Raul, Isabella's closest advisor, and unbeknown to her, one of her husband's most trusted agents. In a marriage of politics, though Ferdinand admired his enigmatic wife, he never fully trusted her. Recent events were seemingly confirming his suspicions.
As Raul turned to bow to his liege, the expression he bore dispelled any thought Ferdinand may have had that somewhere there had been a mistake. Though Raul ultimately answered to Ferdinand, his service to Isabella had long ceased to be duplicitous. He loved the queen, that was open knowledge. But Raul's love was not one that demanded reciprocity, it was not a love that gave Ferdinand cause for jealousy, nor was it a love to waggle the tongues of royal gossipmongers. Raul's love for Isabella was a gift he gave her daily, expecting nothing in return. He walked at her side, his love for her a torch to guide her footsteps along whatever path she trod. His service was genuine. Though Isabella was not aware that Raul was in Ferdinand's pay, even if she had known that, it would have made little difference to her relationship with Raul. He was a trusted friend more than a royal advisor.
Thus the anguished look of despair on a trusted friend's face dispelled any last argument Ferdinand may have had that there had been a mistake.
"How did she get like this?" he asked Raul slowly, as they quietly departed Isabella's chamber and headed towards one of the study chambers.
"I know not, my Lord. It is near two months since last I saw her. After our business concluded in Rome, she dispatched me to Venice to conclude the trade agreements with the merchants' guild, while she herself set back to Castille with the court."
Ferdinand drew a chair at a desk and bade Raul to sit also, so they could talk face-to-face. "Castille? But she did not come back to Castille! And now she returns with a remnant of an army and we learn we are at war with our ally, Francis! What is happening here?"
Raul shook his head slowly, his despair obvious.
"What is it?" asked Ferdinand, in a tone suggesting he was dreading the answer.
"It appears the reports are true, my Lord. I have questioned the soldiers of her bodyguard. Though it is difficult to piece together the full incident, the bodyguards confirm they fought alongside a mercenary army at Toulouse. They say....they say, the fight was at the express behest of Her Majesty....they....". Raul's voice trailed off. He gulped in an effort to clear his throat and urge his mouth the speak the words his heart could scarcely comprehend.
"What?" intoned Ferdinand in a strangled voice he scarcely recognized as his own.
Raul took a deep breath and looked Ferdinand directly in the eye. "They say that Her Majesty herself took an active role in the fighting, my Lord. That she led the knights' charge at the gates of Toulouse, and that she was engaged in the vanguard of the struggle. They say she slew a hundred Franks with her morningstar, and but for her charge, the battle would have been lost."
Ferdinand could only stare at Raul, his shock too much to comprehend. Yet he saw from Raul's steadfast gaze and determined jaw that there was more. The hammerblows were not over.
"They say, my Lord...." Raul's voice almost failed him. He resolved to get it over with, for his own sake, as well as Ferdinand's. "They say, my Lord, that after the battle, Her Majesty did order that all prisoners should be slain, the wealth of Toulouse be shared among the common soldiers, and the homes and land of Toulouse burned to the ground. The soldiers of her bodyguard swear by the Almighty Lord that Her Majesty did herself start the blaze."
An incoherent croak was all that escaped Ferdinand's lips. He slumped back in his chair, a man seemingly overwhelmed by his burdens. Raul could offer no words to his king, for he knew of none that could soften the news he had announced. Scarcely able to believe this himself, though the men he had questioned he knew to be reliable and he also had another source of confirmation, Raul stared down at his own lap, uttering the most sincere prayer of his life that this should all turn out to be a bad dream.
Each second was an eon. Time was suspended in the stillness of the study. Sound did not exist. Even the walls of the room stood as if in consternation at the incredible turn of events.
When Ferdinand finally spoke, Raul was not sure if days of silence had passed, or if decades had passed and that he was now simply a ghost wandering the old study, where years ago, he had announced shocking news to his king.
"This can't be right," denied Ferdinand, trying to convince himself. Then, turning to Raul, "Well, you know her as well as I do! She may be calculating and deceiving, but THIS?!? She has never lifted a weapon in her life! She actively dislikes war! She urges ambassadors to treat foreigners like our own citizens. She visits abroad to promote music and learning and whatever other hare-brained idea she has had. Why, you know yourself, she has been entreating me to conclude a free passage naval agreement with King Francis! And THIS?!?"
He stared accusingly at Raul. Raul understood that the king's anger was not directed at him, but that he needed an outlet, and in that argument was his method of seeking the truth. "There is something that you should see, my Lord," Raul replied calmly.
He held towards the king a small brown notebook, the cover made of padded leather, the pages finest paper. It was no larger than a hand, the type of book an ambassador might keep in his pocket to record the names and correct titles of visiting foreign royalty, or that a merchant might have to keep track of exotic items and their values in different parts of his trading empire. Or a book that a queen might have to record her own thoughts.
"It is Her Majesty's possession, my Lord. Luis, the head of Her Majesty's guard retrieved it, my Lord, when Her Majesty's army was ambushed on the way back from France. It was then that Her Majesty received the blow from which she still suffers."
Ferdinand took the book gravely. "He knows," thought Raul. "He knows that what I've told him is true. He knows that I would never lie to him. He is disbelieving because he does not want to believe that this could have happened, and he has to face the consequences. But he also knows he has no choice, for he is a leader, and he has a nation to concern him."
As if in telepathic co-ordination, Ferdinand gave Raul a slight nod. "Thank you Raul. Leave me. I shall call for your assistance."
Raul left silently, closing the door quietly behind him. Outside, he instructed the royal guards, "His Majesty is not to be disturbed by anyone." His duty done, for the time-being at least, Raul headed for his personal study. He too, need some time, just to think, to comprehend. He had read the diary, and the words still flew about in his mind, fleeting, hinting, amazing.
"I think I'm losing my memory. There is blood and chicken feathers all over my travelling robes, and I have no idea how they got there. When I ask Carla, she mumbles at me and says she knows not. How puzzling. Were it not so absurd, I would think she is afraid of me! She has been my waiting girl for 7 years and always I have found her cool and patient, but a change seems to have come over her and she is not so warm when she is in my presence..."
"Something is happening to me, I am sure of it. I have consulted the physicians for I have no appetite, I am weary whenever I am conscious, and sometimes I come to, as if my mind has been drifting elsewhere. I find it difficult to remember the date, and I find myself missing prayers. Time seems elusive, an enemy, and there are gaps in my memory. I do pray to God that I am not suffering an illness, for that is what it seems. I keep faith that I shall be back home soon, and the healthful air of dear Castille will be easeful to my soul."
"I find this morning that we are travelling to France! I know not why on God's Earth this should be so, yet Cardinal informs me that we travel there on my instructions for a meeting with the Holy Swiss Alliance. I truly do not understand that...who are the Holy Swiss Alliance? I looked forward to Castille's blue skies, but it seems that day will be delayed. I am still discussing with Cardinal what we should do."
"What a monster I am becoming! I struck Carla today for no reason that I can imagine. The poor girl was simply attending to her chores when I do not know what possessed me to strike at her! Dear God, I come to you as your child, as a supplicant, please ease my soul and conscience of whatever burden they seem to be carrying....Carla and I cried together, and she accepted my apology to her with such love that I cannot describe..."
"We have been in battle! Who the enemy were I am yet unclear on, but with the help of our gallant swiss allies, a great victory was ours, in the name of the Lord. We have suffered casualties, may God accept their sacrifice, but our war was just, as it seems the enemy attacked us quite by surprise. I do not recall the details of the battle, for I am still somewhat lightheaded on this tiresome journey. I did dream, however, that I sat astride a magnificent white horse and rode among our troops, lifting their spirits as they crusaded against the enemy. It is a strange fancy, but I did dream that I carried a shield in my left hand and a strange weapon in my right, consisting of a stick with a heavy ball and chain on the end. When I described this dream to Cardinal, he intoned the Lord's Prayer and told me that the weapon was called a Star of the Morning, though for some reason, he did not seem to hear that I was telling him about a dream. Still, I take this as a heavenly sign, though I expect that such fancies should not recur!"
"I have witnessed a terrible tradegy, that which will haunt me forever, though I pray to the Lord to ease my eyes of the sight that befell them. It seems that the strange enemy that battled us previously were demons on earth. Not content with the unrighteous villainy they did inflict on us, they have exerted their vengeance on the faithful people of Toulouse, killing men in their hundreds, orphaning children and committing heinous deeds on their sweet mothers. Oh Lord, I beg of you to ease their suffering, for surely no being deserves such a fate. The land of France is bloodstained by the slaughter of innocents. Not content with such a crime, the evil creatures then did set fire to the town. I feel so tainted by the carnage that I can almost feel as if I too am covered in fire, that I too was among the ablaze, a part of the fire. I am so upset. I cannot write more."
Ferdinand stared at the comatose figure of his wife. Though a thousand different questions clashed against a thousand difficult troubles in the labyrinth of his thoughts, at that moment he could only stand and watch his wife's peaceful slumber.
"How beautiful she looks," he whispered, a soliloquy. "How calm and restful. How composed is her posture, how serene her expression. Surely there must be some mistake?"
He turned slowly towards the entrance to her chamber. Standing patiently beside the door was Raul, Isabella's closest advisor, and unbeknown to her, one of her husband's most trusted agents. In a marriage of politics, though Ferdinand admired his enigmatic wife, he never fully trusted her. Recent events were seemingly confirming his suspicions.
As Raul turned to bow to his liege, the expression he bore dispelled any thought Ferdinand may have had that somewhere there had been a mistake. Though Raul ultimately answered to Ferdinand, his service to Isabella had long ceased to be duplicitous. He loved the queen, that was open knowledge. But Raul's love was not one that demanded reciprocity, it was not a love that gave Ferdinand cause for jealousy, nor was it a love to waggle the tongues of royal gossipmongers. Raul's love for Isabella was a gift he gave her daily, expecting nothing in return. He walked at her side, his love for her a torch to guide her footsteps along whatever path she trod. His service was genuine. Though Isabella was not aware that Raul was in Ferdinand's pay, even if she had known that, it would have made little difference to her relationship with Raul. He was a trusted friend more than a royal advisor.
Thus the anguished look of despair on a trusted friend's face dispelled any last argument Ferdinand may have had that there had been a mistake.
"How did she get like this?" he asked Raul slowly, as they quietly departed Isabella's chamber and headed towards one of the study chambers.
"I know not, my Lord. It is near two months since last I saw her. After our business concluded in Rome, she dispatched me to Venice to conclude the trade agreements with the merchants' guild, while she herself set back to Castille with the court."
Ferdinand drew a chair at a desk and bade Raul to sit also, so they could talk face-to-face. "Castille? But she did not come back to Castille! And now she returns with a remnant of an army and we learn we are at war with our ally, Francis! What is happening here?"
Raul shook his head slowly, his despair obvious.
"What is it?" asked Ferdinand, in a tone suggesting he was dreading the answer.
"It appears the reports are true, my Lord. I have questioned the soldiers of her bodyguard. Though it is difficult to piece together the full incident, the bodyguards confirm they fought alongside a mercenary army at Toulouse. They say....they say, the fight was at the express behest of Her Majesty....they....". Raul's voice trailed off. He gulped in an effort to clear his throat and urge his mouth the speak the words his heart could scarcely comprehend.
"What?" intoned Ferdinand in a strangled voice he scarcely recognized as his own.
Raul took a deep breath and looked Ferdinand directly in the eye. "They say that Her Majesty herself took an active role in the fighting, my Lord. That she led the knights' charge at the gates of Toulouse, and that she was engaged in the vanguard of the struggle. They say she slew a hundred Franks with her morningstar, and but for her charge, the battle would have been lost."
Ferdinand could only stare at Raul, his shock too much to comprehend. Yet he saw from Raul's steadfast gaze and determined jaw that there was more. The hammerblows were not over.
"They say, my Lord...." Raul's voice almost failed him. He resolved to get it over with, for his own sake, as well as Ferdinand's. "They say, my Lord, that after the battle, Her Majesty did order that all prisoners should be slain, the wealth of Toulouse be shared among the common soldiers, and the homes and land of Toulouse burned to the ground. The soldiers of her bodyguard swear by the Almighty Lord that Her Majesty did herself start the blaze."
An incoherent croak was all that escaped Ferdinand's lips. He slumped back in his chair, a man seemingly overwhelmed by his burdens. Raul could offer no words to his king, for he knew of none that could soften the news he had announced. Scarcely able to believe this himself, though the men he had questioned he knew to be reliable and he also had another source of confirmation, Raul stared down at his own lap, uttering the most sincere prayer of his life that this should all turn out to be a bad dream.
Each second was an eon. Time was suspended in the stillness of the study. Sound did not exist. Even the walls of the room stood as if in consternation at the incredible turn of events.
When Ferdinand finally spoke, Raul was not sure if days of silence had passed, or if decades had passed and that he was now simply a ghost wandering the old study, where years ago, he had announced shocking news to his king.
"This can't be right," denied Ferdinand, trying to convince himself. Then, turning to Raul, "Well, you know her as well as I do! She may be calculating and deceiving, but THIS?!? She has never lifted a weapon in her life! She actively dislikes war! She urges ambassadors to treat foreigners like our own citizens. She visits abroad to promote music and learning and whatever other hare-brained idea she has had. Why, you know yourself, she has been entreating me to conclude a free passage naval agreement with King Francis! And THIS?!?"
He stared accusingly at Raul. Raul understood that the king's anger was not directed at him, but that he needed an outlet, and in that argument was his method of seeking the truth. "There is something that you should see, my Lord," Raul replied calmly.
He held towards the king a small brown notebook, the cover made of padded leather, the pages finest paper. It was no larger than a hand, the type of book an ambassador might keep in his pocket to record the names and correct titles of visiting foreign royalty, or that a merchant might have to keep track of exotic items and their values in different parts of his trading empire. Or a book that a queen might have to record her own thoughts.
"It is Her Majesty's possession, my Lord. Luis, the head of Her Majesty's guard retrieved it, my Lord, when Her Majesty's army was ambushed on the way back from France. It was then that Her Majesty received the blow from which she still suffers."
Ferdinand took the book gravely. "He knows," thought Raul. "He knows that what I've told him is true. He knows that I would never lie to him. He is disbelieving because he does not want to believe that this could have happened, and he has to face the consequences. But he also knows he has no choice, for he is a leader, and he has a nation to concern him."
As if in telepathic co-ordination, Ferdinand gave Raul a slight nod. "Thank you Raul. Leave me. I shall call for your assistance."
Raul left silently, closing the door quietly behind him. Outside, he instructed the royal guards, "His Majesty is not to be disturbed by anyone." His duty done, for the time-being at least, Raul headed for his personal study. He too, need some time, just to think, to comprehend. He had read the diary, and the words still flew about in his mind, fleeting, hinting, amazing.
"I think I'm losing my memory. There is blood and chicken feathers all over my travelling robes, and I have no idea how they got there. When I ask Carla, she mumbles at me and says she knows not. How puzzling. Were it not so absurd, I would think she is afraid of me! She has been my waiting girl for 7 years and always I have found her cool and patient, but a change seems to have come over her and she is not so warm when she is in my presence..."
"Something is happening to me, I am sure of it. I have consulted the physicians for I have no appetite, I am weary whenever I am conscious, and sometimes I come to, as if my mind has been drifting elsewhere. I find it difficult to remember the date, and I find myself missing prayers. Time seems elusive, an enemy, and there are gaps in my memory. I do pray to God that I am not suffering an illness, for that is what it seems. I keep faith that I shall be back home soon, and the healthful air of dear Castille will be easeful to my soul."
"I find this morning that we are travelling to France! I know not why on God's Earth this should be so, yet Cardinal informs me that we travel there on my instructions for a meeting with the Holy Swiss Alliance. I truly do not understand that...who are the Holy Swiss Alliance? I looked forward to Castille's blue skies, but it seems that day will be delayed. I am still discussing with Cardinal what we should do."
"What a monster I am becoming! I struck Carla today for no reason that I can imagine. The poor girl was simply attending to her chores when I do not know what possessed me to strike at her! Dear God, I come to you as your child, as a supplicant, please ease my soul and conscience of whatever burden they seem to be carrying....Carla and I cried together, and she accepted my apology to her with such love that I cannot describe..."
"We have been in battle! Who the enemy were I am yet unclear on, but with the help of our gallant swiss allies, a great victory was ours, in the name of the Lord. We have suffered casualties, may God accept their sacrifice, but our war was just, as it seems the enemy attacked us quite by surprise. I do not recall the details of the battle, for I am still somewhat lightheaded on this tiresome journey. I did dream, however, that I sat astride a magnificent white horse and rode among our troops, lifting their spirits as they crusaded against the enemy. It is a strange fancy, but I did dream that I carried a shield in my left hand and a strange weapon in my right, consisting of a stick with a heavy ball and chain on the end. When I described this dream to Cardinal, he intoned the Lord's Prayer and told me that the weapon was called a Star of the Morning, though for some reason, he did not seem to hear that I was telling him about a dream. Still, I take this as a heavenly sign, though I expect that such fancies should not recur!"
"I have witnessed a terrible tradegy, that which will haunt me forever, though I pray to the Lord to ease my eyes of the sight that befell them. It seems that the strange enemy that battled us previously were demons on earth. Not content with the unrighteous villainy they did inflict on us, they have exerted their vengeance on the faithful people of Toulouse, killing men in their hundreds, orphaning children and committing heinous deeds on their sweet mothers. Oh Lord, I beg of you to ease their suffering, for surely no being deserves such a fate. The land of France is bloodstained by the slaughter of innocents. Not content with such a crime, the evil creatures then did set fire to the town. I feel so tainted by the carnage that I can almost feel as if I too am covered in fire, that I too was among the ablaze, a part of the fire. I am so upset. I cannot write more."