The Strangled Queen by Maurice Druon Read Free Book Online Page A

royal necropolis, the Court was attending the burial of Philip the Fair.
    Drawn up side by side in the central nave, facing the new tomb, the whole Capet tribe were present in sombre and sumptuous mourning: the princes of the blood, the lay peers, the ecclesiastical peers, the members of the Inner Council, the Grand Almoners, the High Constable, indeed all the principal dignitaries of the Crown.
    The Lord Chamberlain, followed by five officers of the household, advanced with solemn tread to the edg e of the open vault into which the body had already been lowered, threw into the cavity the carved wand which was the insignia of his office, and pronounced the formula which officially marked the change of reign: "The King is dead! Long live the King! "
    After him, all present repeated "The King is dead! Long live the King! "
    And the cry from a hundred throats resounded from bay and arch and pillar and re-echoed among the high vaults.
    The Prince with the lack-lustre eyes, narrow shoulders and hollow chest who, at this moment, had become Louis X, felt a curious sensation in the nape of his neck, as if stars were bursting there. His whole body was seized by an agonising chill and he was afraid of falling down in a swoon. He began to pray for himself, as he had never prayed for anyone in the world.
    On his right hand his two brothers, Philippe, Count of Poitiers, and Prince Charles, who had riot as yet acquired a territorial estate, gazed fixedly at the tomb, their hearts constricted by the emotion every man must feel, be he child of poverty or king's son, at the moment his father's body is lowered into the earth.
    On the left of the new Sovereign were his two uncles, Mon seigneur Charles of Valois and Monseigneur Louis of Evreux, both big men who had already passed their fortieth year.
    The Count of Evreux was a prey to memories of the past. "Twenty-nine years ago," he thought, "we too were three sons standing upon these same stones before our father's tomb. It seems such a little while ago; and now Philip has gone. Life is already over."
    His eyes turned to the nearest effigy, which was that of King Philip III. "Father," prayed: Louis of Evreux with all his heart, "receive my brother Philip kindly into the other kingdom, for he succeeded you well.
    Further along, near the altar, was the tomb of Saint Louis, and, beyond again the stone effigies of the great ancestors. And then, on the other side of the nave, the empty spaces, bare flagstones which one day would open for this young man who was succeeding to the throne, and after him, reign upon reign, for all the kings of the future. "There is still room for many centuries of them," thought Louis of Evreux.
    Monseigneur of Valois, his arms crossed, his chip held high, his eyes restless, observed all that was going on, watching to see that the ceremony was properly conducted.
    "The King is dead! Long live the King! "
    Five times more the cry sounded through the basilica as the chamberlains passed by. Then the last wand rebounded from the coffin and silence fell.
    At that moment Louis X was seized with a violent fit of coughing that he was quite unable to control. A flux of blood mounted to his checks and for a long moment he was shaken; by a par oxysm, as if he were about to spit his soul out before his father's grave.
    All those present looked at each other, mitre bent towards mitre, crown towards crown; there were whispers of anxiety and pity. Everyone was thinking, "Supposing he too were to die within a few weeks, what would happen then ?"
    Among the peers of France the redoubtable Countess Mahaut of Artois, her face red from the cold, watched her giant nephew Robert, and wondered why he had arrived at Notre-Dame the day before only in the middle of the funeral mass, unshaven and muddied to the waist. Where had he come from, what had he been doing? As soon as Robert appeared, there was intrigue in the air. The favour in which he seemed to stand, si nce Philip the Fair had died a