Tannhauser 02: The Twelve Children of Paris by Tim Willocks Read Free Book Online

must choose between a foreign war or a civil war.’
    ‘Does threatening a king no longer pass for treason?’
    ‘His Majesty loves Coligny, almost as the father he hardly knew.’
    ‘Coligny loves only war. Without war he’s just another provincial grandee. He is nothing. Hence he has nothing to lose and I’d take him at his word: the next war has already begun.’
    ‘A Huguenot army of four thousand men is bivouacked a day’s march from Paris. They have no intention of attacking and have no need to do so. Coligny claims they are loyal subjects, but they are not commanded by the King, and therefore their very presence is a challenge to royal authority. They are also a source of terror to the common populace.’
    ‘Why do you tell me all this?’
    ‘I would like to know what you would do in this circumstance.’
    ‘If I were you?’
    ‘If you were the King.’
    Tannhauser felt a pressure in his skull. The months he had spent in the wilderness, at sea and in the desert, had cleansed him of such concerns. He had melted into the power of being alive in the world as God had made it. He had forgotten the world that humans had fashioned in its stead.
    ‘Please, speak freely,’ said Retz.
    ‘Coligny is a strongman. He knows, as does any beggar, that the King is – or is seen to be – weak. It galls strong men to take their orders from a weakling. Or worse, a weakling’s mother.’
    ‘Then you don’t approve of the Edict of Toleration.’
    ‘One tolerates an attack of the piles, not warlords like Gaspard Coligny.’
    Tannhauser had so far escaped the former affliction but was familiar enough with the latter. He wished he were back in the Land of God, with the travellers of Timbuctoo.
    ‘Are the Huguenots not entitled to freedom of conscience?’
    ‘Coligny’s captains don’t sit in the taverns debating the Real Presence of Christ in the Mass. They talk of women and horses, not the nature of the Divine. They’ve no more a clue what they fight for than the Catholics. This is a war between believers who don’t understand what they believe in. It’s a question of power, not religion. Does power reside in the state, as embodied by the King? Or is power to be dispersed among the warlords and their mercenaries? But you don’t need me to tell you that.’
    The carriage rattled to a halt and creaked as Guzman climbed down. A rap on the door.
    ‘The Louvre, your Excellency.’
    Retz looked at Tannhauser. ‘How would you answer that question?’
    ‘The King doesn’t need my advice.’
    ‘To the contrary. A man of the world, untainted by the intrigues of the court? A cooler mind. A man who has no cards to play in this game.’
    Tannhauser grimaced.
    ‘The Huguenot elites defy the King, in his own palace. They speak treason. They demand wars. They threaten his kingdom. They threaten his mother.’
    Tannhauser paused. Retz worked his charms well. He did not much like it.
    ‘I’d kill them all,’ said Tannhauser.
    ‘The entire Protestant aristocracy?’
    ‘Just their grandees.’
    ‘A radical solution. Can you elaborate?’
    ‘I doubt I’m the first to suggest the stratagem.’
    ‘The particulars are of interest.’
    ‘Decapitate the high command and the next war will be a lesser war. If the game is resolved with a modicum of political skill – a treacherous conspiracy decisively crushed, taxes will be cut, apples of solid silver will fall from the trees, etcetera and so forth – there may be no war at all.’
    ‘You advocate the killing of, let us say forty nobles – and their guards and retainers – who are guests in the King’s palace and under his protection.’ Retz’s voice suggested the stratagem was indeed familiar. ‘Men from many of the oldest families in France.’
    ‘You want me to multiply the arguments in favour of this scheme.’
    ‘Do you have reason not to supply them?’ asked Retz.
    ‘The oldest families in France are no more than its oldest criminals.’
    ‘His Majesty