The Vault of Bones (8 page)

Read The Vault of Bones Online

Authors: Pip Vaughan-Hughes

Tags: #Historical Novel

BOOK: The Vault of Bones
13.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

'The relics of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, so I understand’

I all but choked on my wine at these words, so carelessly uttered. If I had not held a goblet I would surely have crossed myself with reflexive piety, but I did not, and in another moment the training of my new life had overpowered the habits of the old one. Meanwhile, Baldwin brought his hands together and kissed his fingertips. I had seen the same gesture last night.

'Those wonders have been guarded there since the Empress Helen brought them out of the Holy Land a thousand years ago. It is beyond .. ‘ He shook his head.

'Forgive me, but I am as overcome as you are by even the mention of such relics’ said the Captain with great care. 'The greatest wonder is the Crown, is it not?'

'The Crown of Thorns itself’ Baldwin breathed. 'The thorns that pierced His flesh, that were doused in His blood. Yes, that is the treasure of all treasures. But there are more’

The Captain was silent. He leaned back in his chair, as calm as if he were alone in the library of the Ca Kanzir. He regarded Baldwin with no more than polite interest. Only the slight tilt of his head showed that he was paying attention.

Yes, more’ Baldwin went on, becoming somewhat carried away. 'The Crown is chief of them, but the chapel holds the Spear that pierced His side, the Reed, the Cane, the Sponge, the Chain that bound Him; His Swaddling Bands, His Tunic, His sandals, a part of the Shroud that wrapped His body ...' He was rattling away, counting relics off on his fingers. I fought back a grin.

'... the Towel He used to dry the feet of the Holy Apostles, the True Cross - pieces of it. The head of the Baptist, and Saint Clement's, Saint Simeon's, Saint Bias' heads. The very staff of Moses!'

'But the Passion relics themselves,' said the Captain. Your pardon, but I am fascinated. As you know from your cousin Louis, I have helped with the translation of a number of relics over the years, and for many clients, including Louis himself. But to hear of such things, and from a man who has seen them with his own eyes ...' The Captain passed an expressive hand over his face. ‘I understand the very Stone that blocked the mouth of the Tomb is there?'

'Supposedly ... that is, indeed it is. The
Sudarium
also ...'

Your pardon again, Sire, but is this
Sudarium
- the facecloth from the Gospel of Saint John, I believe? - is it not part of the Shroud you mentioned?'

'No, I don't think so. The ...'

'No matter, no matter. You are speaking of wonders and I am acting the pedant. There is no doubt you possess a formidable collection. I think you wish for my professional opinion?'

'Indeed,' said Baldwin, his voice almost cracking with relief.

Well then. The Pharos Chapel holds the most formidable of any collection of holy relics in Christendom. That you knew.' Baldwin nodded. 'And so ...' He held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "There: my professional opinion. I am speechless. Now let us come to the point. Money is easier to talk about.'

Baldwin puffed his cheeks and blew out. You are every bit as direct as Louis described you’ he said. 'But that is good.' He cleared his throat, which set off a small fit of coughing.

'How much? How much is it all worth?' he said at last.
'All of it?'

'All of it. Every thorn, every stitch, every bone. I will lose my throne, sir, and all my vassals shall be cast out if I do not act now, this instant. So, how much?'

'To whom?' the Captain asked, as calm as ever.

'To whoever wants it’ said Baldwin. He was smiling, but shaking his head in exasperation.

The Captain brought his fingertips together and regarded them for a long moment. A death-bed hush had abruptly descended on the room. I watched the dust motes dance in a golden swarm through the sunlight from which Baldwin had withdrawn himself. Then the Captain stood up, a great black shadow that loomed over the emperor. The boy flinched.

'You ask me to put a price on what is priceless’ he said, and his voice was as hard and sharp as flint. ‘I am not a pawnbroker. These relics, things that have touched Our Lord, that have rent His flesh, have no worth at all. They are truly valueless, as prayer is valueless. The prayer itself is nothing more than air. But what price the prayer that reaches the ear of the Almighty? I will not value these things of yours. If someone wishes to buy them, take what is offered. I can give you no more advice.' He gestured to me and I too rose to my feet, watching the man at my side for any sign as to what might happen next.

We thank you for your hospitality’ the Captain went on at last. 'It is one of my dearest wishes to set foot inside the Pharos Chapel, and I am relieved to hear that it did not suffer the hideous fate that befell the rest of your city when Doge Dandolo and Baldwin of Flanders took it for themselves. But I cannot help you. I am no usurer, nor am I a banker. If you wish to raise a loan, there are many here in this city to whom you can turn. And there are many more, scrupulous and not, in Christendom and beyond. And now, by your leave’ He took a step towards the door, and I made as if to follow.

Baldwin let out a great cry, and instantly the two knights rushed into the room. When they saw the Captain and I standing there so solemnly they stopped and looked to their master. Baldwin had risen too. He turned impatiently to his men and shooed them out again. Then he turned to us, and flung out his arms beseechingly.

'Please, sir, please! Do not leave!' he cried.
Why should we not?' asked the Captain bluntly.

'Because you have misconstrued me! You have taken offence where none was intended, but I clearly see my error. I beg you to reconsider’ the poor boy pleaded.

Your Majesty’ said the Captain, to my surprise, as I had never heard him honour anyone with their title, no matter how illustrious. 'I am a businessman, and as such a very hard person to offend. You have not offended me in the slightest, but I fear you have wasted my time and yours. I wish you every good fortune, and now I must be on my way.'

Jean de Sol, I command you ... oh, fuck it’ said Baldwin, sinking down on his chair. ‘I just want you to talk to the King of France on my behalf’ he went on. 'That is all. I have nothing, do you hear? Nothing!' His voice was pinched, shrill. You would not fix- a price on a prayer, you say? Well, Louis would! For one of Christ's farts in a bottle he would pay enough for me to build a wall around my whole empire! These things are all I have, and you tell me they are nothing? Is this my punishment for trying to sell what should not be sold? Dear God, I am a Christian king!' His last words were shouted at the ceiling.

'I am sure that no one doubts your piety’ said the Captain in a softer tone. 'But if you put the Crown of Thorns up for sale as if it were a bale of silk or a sausage hanging on a butchers stall, you will be reviled. Canon law is not specific on this subject’ he went on, sitting down again and arranging his sleeves like a schoolmaster. 'But I can assure you that the Holy See would accuse you of the sin of simony,
simonia realis
in this case, although to some even considering such an action makes you guilty. And simony is a grievous sin.'

'But simony is merely the buying and selling of benefices and indulgences’ protested Baldwin. He too seemed a little calmer, and had taken his seat once more. I was the only one standing, so I refilled my cup and sat down. 'It goes on all the time. I would guess every bishopric in my empire was bought, and who has not given a few coins for an indulgence? I know many who would not go into battle without one.'

'It is all a matter of scale’ said the Captain patiently. 'The Church turns a blind eye to many simoniac benefices because it is simply too troublesome to do anything about them, and too easy to bribe one's way out of trouble. It likes to sell indulgences because it is a simple way to raise coin. In my estimation, however, putting the relics of the Passion on the open market would be akin to buying the papacy. You would be excommunicated.'

'Really?'

The Captain shrugged. 'Perhaps. Who knows what the Church will do? How are your relations with the Holy Father?'

'His Holiness Pope Gregory has been kind enough to take a ... a keen interest in our affairs’ said Baldwin. For once he sounded like a courtier, and I understood that this was a speech he had made many times in the last two years. 'He has preached a crusade against John Asen, he ...'

'Concrete assistance? Forgive my interruption, but has he opened Saint Peter's purse for you?'

'Not yet, but...'

'He was quick to excommunicate your cousin Frederick,' the Captain pointed out.

'Frederick Hohenstaufen is a godless, pitiless voluptuary,' squeaked Baldwin primly.

'But Gregory excommunicated him merely for not being quick enough to set off on crusade,' said the Captain. 'For all your protestations, Frederick too is a Christian king - your pardon, an
emperor.
No, I think you might find that old Gregory would swiftly show you his whip-hand if you attempted to sell the relics.'

'Then what am I to do? I cannot risk Gregory's anger. He is our one true friend in all Christendom.'

Strange, I thought, that young Baldwin had spent his life in thrall to old men. His Regent, John de Brienne, had been approaching his ninetieth year when death took him, and Pope Gregory was already ninety. This boy, who fancied himself a lion, was no more than a gelded ram at the mercy of prodigiously ancient shepherds. I shuddered: there was nothing in Baldwin's lot that I envied.

‘We are here, sir, because you have a buyer for these things you cannot sell,' said the Captain. It was a statement, and Baldwin stiffened. 'But there is a difficulty,' he continued. 'Louis desires your relics, but he cannot buy them. And he would not: Louis, of all men, would not risk his mortal soul thus, nor would he be so vulgar.'

'That is it!' cried Baldwin, slapping his knees. ‘You have cut to the very quick. My empire is saved, but for the scruples of my saintly cousin! He would give anything for the Crown alone, let alone the ... the rest of it, but he cannot. I am like

Taranto in Hades: I approach water to slake my thirst, and it turns to dust!'

'I think you mean Tantalus’ I said, before I could stop myself. Fortunately my remark went unnoticed.

What does the empire require?' asked the Captain. 'I mean to say, what price had you intended to place on your treasures?'

'I - that is, the empire ... we require money, and men. Fifty thousand men at least, and the money to keep them victualled and armed. More money to pay our debtors.' He shook his head. We have nothing’ he said again.

The Captain was looking at me as if he wished me to contribute something sensible to the proceedings, so I steepled my fingers as well and leaned forward.

'Have you discussed the relics with Louis?' I asked.

I had expected Baldwin to be surprised and affronted, but he seemed to take me for an important confederate of the Captain, and answered willingly.

'Of course! Many times’ he said. 'It is a subject very dear to his heart - not, perhaps, as dear as the welfare of his kingdom, but ...' He closed his eyes for a moment as if remembering something. 'One day he took me to his private chapel at Vincennes and showed me his collection of holy relics. It was marvellous, I was duly impressed, and after we had prayed together we walked through the fields, as is his custom. He was greatly animated, and spoke of all the great treasures in his realm: the Milk-tooth of Christ, the two abbeys that claim to possess His ...' he coughed delicately, ' ... His Foreskin; the Robe of Our Lady, of course, in the Cathedral of Chartres. But none of these compared, he insisted, to the treasures of my house. How he envied me! That made me feel altogether dreadful, I can assure you, being all but overcome with envy for my dear cousin at that moment. The king seems to regard me as little more than a boy ...' he sniffed disapprovingly, and we did our best to look sympathetic. 'But in this matter alone he pays me some small deference’

'Forgive me, but I must know: you have requested aid from the king?' I enquired delicately.

'I have. He is most sympathetic: one Christian monarch to another, you know. He has made me some promises and offered a little money. A very little money, although more than Henry, that... no matter. His promises and gifts so far would barely pay for my passage home.'

'And why do you not simply approach the Venetian banks? One hears that their purses are practically bottomless. We assumed that was why you were here’ This last was pure inspiration, but I could tell by the way the Captain cocked his head that I had asked the right question. And indeed Baldwin puffed out his cheeks and expelled the air noisily.

'The Regent John has already placed my empire very solidly in the Serene Republic's debt,' he said ruefully. 'Indeed, until I return to Constantinople I will not know the true extent of it. And I am quite anxious that the Republic does not discover that I am here. I have placed myself in the Hons mouth - the
winged
lion as it were - to seek you out, sirs.'

The Captain nodded slowly. Reaching for a honey cake, he nibbled the edge, studied it for a moment as if it were of great worth, then popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, washed the remains down with a sip of wine, and sat back.

‘You will give the Crown of Thorns to Louis Capet as a gift,' he pronounced.

'I beg your pardon?' spluttered Baldwin.

You will make a gift of the Crown of Thorns to your cousin’

'But why? No, certainly not!'

You will make him a gift of the most precious thing in your kingdom. I will ensure that Louis makes you an equally precious gift in return’

You? How?' said Baldwin. He was beginning to lose his patience, I saw.

The Captain stood up and Baldwin recoiled once more, but he merely brushed the cake crumbs from his clothing and sat down again.

'Do you actually know who I am?' he asked, a little pointedly.

Other books

Forget Me Not, by Juliann Whicker
Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee
Pieces of it All by Tracy Krimmer
The Other Son by Alexander Soderberg
4 Rainy Days and Monday by Robert Michael
Second Chances by Evan Grace
Heatseeker (Atrati) by Monroe, Lucy
The 13th Juror by John Lescroart