study. The Hospitallers had been allowed to remain on the island after the defeat at Saint-Jean-d’Acre in 1291, despite the misgivings of Henri II de Lusignan, the King of Cyprus, about this military order establishing a base in his realm.
The prior put down the short missive he had just received from his supposed cousin Guillaume. The true identity of this impassioned scholar of angelology was Francesco de Leone, Knight of Justice and Grace, whom Viancourt had sent to spy on King Philip the Fair’s* counsellor, Monsieur Guillaume de Nogaret.
The King of France, with Nogaret’s keen collaboration, was looking for a prelate whose election to the Holy See he would finance in exchange for an assurance of neutrality in France’s political affairs. However, both Viancourt and Guillaume de Villaret, the order’s Grand-Master since 1296, had long feared that the newly elected pope’s allegiance to the King would not stop there. Philip was absolutely determined to suppress the military orders, primarily the order of the Knights Templar – effectively the Pope’s private guard. Viancourt could not help but admire the King’s strategy, no doubt elaborated by his most faithful counsellor, Nogaret. Rather than demand the simple disbanding of all the orders of the Knights of Christ, and risk incurring the wrath of the Vatican and that of the young nobles and burghers who were avid supporters of these pure, heroic orders, he intended to unite them under the single banner of one of his sons. This would most likely be Philip the Younger, the only one whose intelligence was deemed worthy of that name. Philip the Fair would thus keep the monk-soldiers in check, forcing them to conform at very little political cost.
My dear cousin,
I hardly dare inform you that my research into angelology is at a standstill. It saddens me to imagine your disappointment. The second order of Dominations, Virtues and Powers31 continues to evade me. There is one piece of news, however, which I foolishly hope will please you. I am beginning to gain a clear understanding of the third order of Principalities, Archangels and Angels and now feel certain that the tempus discretum for which I have been searching in the documentation available to me relates above all to the Principalities. I need a little more time in order to arrive at a definite conclusion. I apologise profusely for this further delay, which I am sure will prove awkward for you.
I reiterate my unstinting desire to persist in this difficult research, and I trust that my next letter will contain news of my significant progress.
Your humble and indebted Guillaume.
Francesco de Leone was informing him that there were four possible prelates contending for the papal throne – an advance on his last letter, since it seemed that two cardinals had already been rejected by Philip the Fair. The famous Archangels and Angels … an amusing metaphor! However, there were no further references to Augustine’s ‘City of God’ as a bibliographical source, which meant that he had decided to leave Monsieur de Nogaret in order to pursue his mission elsewhere.
The slender man carefully reread one last time the missive that lay on his desk.
I apologise profusely for this further delay, which I am sure will prove awkward for you.
An amused smile lit up the Grand-Commander’s gaunt face. It was true that Leone would be staying on in France, but was that not why Viancourt had sent him there, without the knight suspecting it in the slightest?
The prior stood up and walked over to the safe in the wall opposite his desk and took out a scroll he had received a few weeks earlier. It was signed: ‘G’ – Clair Gresson, personal secretary to Guillaume de Plaisians.32 Plaisians had been Nogaret’s pupil at Montpellier before becoming seneschal at Beaucaire. He had joined the King’s immediate entourage to work alongside his former teacher a year ago, and had already demonstrated his remarkable talents as a lawyer. In addition to his vast intellect and solid education, he possessed a remarkable gift for oratory. As was rumoured in the corridors and antechambers of the Louvre, he had become Monsieur de Nogaret’s éminence grise and appeared to share Nogaret’s animosity towards the late Pope Boniface VIII. Gresson was one of the most zealous and skilled informers the prior had ever known, and placing him close to Plaisians had been a clever move, which greatly reassured Arnaud de Viancourt. Clair Gresson had written:
My dear Godfather,
I hope that your health has improved. Our mutual cousin is nervous about having to inform you presently of his slow progress in the research on angelology he has undertaken at your request. During his time here with us he has discovered a few details that shed light on his studies. The theoretical niceties are lost on me, but I understand that these findings have indeed aided his progress.
Our cousin, who I assure you has worked tirelessly, has gone to visit a relative whom he has not had the pleasure of seeing in a very long time. An unexpected death has kept him there for longer than he intended. But do not grieve, dear Godfather, for the death was not in the family, which enjoys perfect health.
Believe me when I tell you that our cousin performs his tasks with a diligence and intelligence that are most praiseworthy. I am convinced that he will present you with an end result that will entirely justify your decision to entrust him with the drafting of this treatise on the discrete time determining the operation of the angels – on this tempus discretum, this exception between divine eternity and the continuous cosmic time of material substances,33 that is of such interest to us.
Your devoted and respectful godson, G.
Arnaud de Viancourt smiled again, despite the seriousness, not to say peril, of their situation. In his letter, Clair Gresson confirmed that Leone had left Nogaret’s entourage. However, the other information concealed within these lines was at variance with what the knight had told him, not that this surprised Viancourt. While in the King’s counsellor’s employ, Francesco de Leone had no doubt stumbled upon information that was more specific than he had acknowledged. He was playing for time and the prior knew why. Gresson was informing him that Leone had gone to visit his aunt Éleusie de Beaufort, the Abbess of Clairets, as Viancourt had predicted; Viancourt was aware that the two manuscripts Leone had purchased from Gachelin Humeau were hidden in the abbey’s secret library. As for the death he need not grieve, it no doubt referred to that evil monster Nicolas Florin, whom Benedetti’s henchman had entrusted with Agnès de Souarcy’s execution. So, the lady was out of harm’s way and enjoying ‘perfect health’, but for how long? Their enemies would never cede. Agnès was the key figure in a thousand-year struggle, a bloody and ruthless struggle.
Arnaud de Viancourt held both letters to a candle flame and watched the brownish wave devour the vellum. Although unintelligible to the majority of men, he preferred them not to fall into anyone else’s hands, especially not those of their present Grand-Master, Guillaume de Villaret.
Leone must continue to be kept in ignorance of the prior’s exact role. Neither he nor anyone else must ever know that Arnaud de Viancourt had for a long time been secretly guiding their quest, since before the disaster at Acre even, when the Knight Templar had entrusted his notebook to Eustache de Rioux. Francesco must continue to believe in Viancourt’s total allegiance to the Grand-Master of their order. More importantly, he must remain convinced that Viancourt was intent upon foiling Philip the Fair’s plots, when in fact those that terrified the little, grey-haired man were being hatched by Honorius Benedetti.
The prior spared a friendly, almost affectionate thought for the knight whom he was secretly guiding, who was still so young, so full of promise – Francesco, his finest warrior. Francesco who must not yet fully understand the irrevocable implications of the battle he was engaged in fighting.
The prior’s emotion was short-lived. There was still so much to do, so much progress and so many discoveries to make. So much to fear.
He had been vacillating for weeks now. Should he travel to France in order to continue helping Francesco behind the scenes? This would mean leaving the Limassol citadel leaderless and running the risk that Henri II de Lusignan would use the opportunity to install his men. And might not a sudden voyage also arouse Guillaume de Villaret’s suspicions?