((Takes place around three weeks after the events of A Narrow Escape.))
November 10th, 1613
The return of a king from a glorious victory over invading forces should be a happy occasion. For certain denizens of the city of Martel, in Francia, King Christian's return was most certainly not something to celebrate.
Though the people had come out into the streets to celebrate their king's return, victorious, from battle, the atmosphere of the court itself had grown decidedly anxious in the days following that triumphant entry into the city. The entire council had been shaken up within hours of Christian's arrival - men who were known to have supported Bereth were stripped of land or title and banished from court; others who had been imprisoned on the cardinal's jumped-up charges of heresy were installed in their place. Trusted men set about the work of gathering evidence against the former chancellor and the queen, resulting in a terrifying round of interrogation and arrests that had left many members of the court who had been in the pay of the cardinal reeling and uncertain of their future.
It was made very clear that King Christian was enraged by the attack upon his family, not just at Cardinal Bereth, but at his own queen, Romola, who had signed the warrants for the arrest of his own blood kin, not to mention several death warrants that had been carried out without trial or any recourse to the justice system in place. So great was his anger, in fact, that the queen was the first casualty in the domestic war now being raged with words within the Frankish court.
Two days after the king had returned, his eldest daughter, Marianne, had been sent on her marital journey to Pomerania, where she was to wed the Crown Prince Stephan. Barely a week later, a shocking announcement was made to the court. Queen Romola was to enter the convent of Sanbryde. She signed away all right to her rank and privilege, all right to her sons and daughter, voluntarily allowing for the annulment of her marriage on the grounds of her own insanity. Within a few days, there was no queen at the Frankish court. No one was truly surprised by the king's wrath falling upon his pious, foolish, and zealous wife, but the speed with which she was extracted from wealth and privilege shocked even those who were set against her.
Mr. Sexton and Mr. Riesling, both men known to have been deep in the cardinal's confidences, were racked, their confessions among the most damning extracted, and after their own trial, which lasted a mere few hours, were both sentenced to death for high treason. Their execution was a public affair, witnessed by many of the common people within the city of Martel who held that such an horrific death had been heartily deserved.
And then the cardinal's trial began. It was six grueling days of evidence and testament against Bereth, a man who had trodden on a lot of people to rise to the rank of Chancellor. He had made too many enemies to come cleanly out of this debacle. The jury, made up of lords and members of the clergy, took just two hours to come to their verdict. Even the king was present, he and his family - sons, sister, nephew and niece - set above the rest of the court, awaiting the verdict.
"Cardinal Joseph Bereth, you have been tried and found guilty of the charges laid against you. Under secular law, you would be taken from here whence you came; from there, taken to a place of execution, where you would hang until almost dead, your privy parts to be cut off and burned before you. After death, your body would be quartered and displayed at the king's pleasure. However, since you are a Prince of the Church and may only be punished by an ecclesiastical court, you are to be stripped of all secular wealth, title, and rank. By common consent among the clergy here present, you will walk the Pilgrim's Way barefoot in sackcloth and ashes, and present yourself to His Holiness, the Dalai, in Gelre, whereupon you will be tried and judged for your unseemly acts. Do you have anything to say?"
Bereth stood, a broken man in shackles, between his guards, his head bowed as the sentence was read out. Raising his eyes, he appealed to King Christian, daring to meet the eyes of the monarch he had so blatantly abused.
"Your Majesty, allow me the folly of pride," he pleaded, the charisma that had brought him this far still evident in his voice and manner. "In service of you, and of this country we love so well, I have reached beyond my means. I sought only to end the threat of heresy within the circles of the court, and by zealous over-action, have caused grievous harm to those whom you love, who are innocent of any wrong-doing. Yet our mother Church counsels us to forgive. Can you not forgive me, my sweet lord, and allow me to end my days as nothing more than a common priest, here in the land I love?"
Not a murmur was heard in the court. Often, at this juncture, the king would intercede to scale down the severity of the punishment. Yet today, with his sister and niece sat beside him, still pale and wan from their imprisonment, he spoke no word, the harshness in his face the only reply to Bereth's eloquent plea. There would be no reprieve - Bereth would have to face the harsh justice of the Dalai's court, and hope to survive it, for the Church was not as forgiving as those rulers it counseled.
Yet not all was as unforgiving as it seemed. Charles Beauforte, Duke of Lonnare, was hailed by rich and poor alike as the hero of the hour, and in recompense for his swift action upon his return to the capital ahead of the king, he was granted his wish to marry the Lady Alys Marillier, the king's niece, in a quiet ceremony attended only by their family. The news spread through the capital, and from there, to the lands beyond, like wildfire. For despite all the hardship, the corruption, the blatant misuse of power, something good had come from the bad. Justice had been served, and finally Francia was rid of the most infamous Prince of the Church, for good.
November 10th, 1613
The return of a king from a glorious victory over invading forces should be a happy occasion. For certain denizens of the city of Martel, in Francia, King Christian's return was most certainly not something to celebrate.
Though the people had come out into the streets to celebrate their king's return, victorious, from battle, the atmosphere of the court itself had grown decidedly anxious in the days following that triumphant entry into the city. The entire council had been shaken up within hours of Christian's arrival - men who were known to have supported Bereth were stripped of land or title and banished from court; others who had been imprisoned on the cardinal's jumped-up charges of heresy were installed in their place. Trusted men set about the work of gathering evidence against the former chancellor and the queen, resulting in a terrifying round of interrogation and arrests that had left many members of the court who had been in the pay of the cardinal reeling and uncertain of their future.
It was made very clear that King Christian was enraged by the attack upon his family, not just at Cardinal Bereth, but at his own queen, Romola, who had signed the warrants for the arrest of his own blood kin, not to mention several death warrants that had been carried out without trial or any recourse to the justice system in place. So great was his anger, in fact, that the queen was the first casualty in the domestic war now being raged with words within the Frankish court.
Two days after the king had returned, his eldest daughter, Marianne, had been sent on her marital journey to Pomerania, where she was to wed the Crown Prince Stephan. Barely a week later, a shocking announcement was made to the court. Queen Romola was to enter the convent of Sanbryde. She signed away all right to her rank and privilege, all right to her sons and daughter, voluntarily allowing for the annulment of her marriage on the grounds of her own insanity. Within a few days, there was no queen at the Frankish court. No one was truly surprised by the king's wrath falling upon his pious, foolish, and zealous wife, but the speed with which she was extracted from wealth and privilege shocked even those who were set against her.
Mr. Sexton and Mr. Riesling, both men known to have been deep in the cardinal's confidences, were racked, their confessions among the most damning extracted, and after their own trial, which lasted a mere few hours, were both sentenced to death for high treason. Their execution was a public affair, witnessed by many of the common people within the city of Martel who held that such an horrific death had been heartily deserved.
And then the cardinal's trial began. It was six grueling days of evidence and testament against Bereth, a man who had trodden on a lot of people to rise to the rank of Chancellor. He had made too many enemies to come cleanly out of this debacle. The jury, made up of lords and members of the clergy, took just two hours to come to their verdict. Even the king was present, he and his family - sons, sister, nephew and niece - set above the rest of the court, awaiting the verdict.
"Cardinal Joseph Bereth, you have been tried and found guilty of the charges laid against you. Under secular law, you would be taken from here whence you came; from there, taken to a place of execution, where you would hang until almost dead, your privy parts to be cut off and burned before you. After death, your body would be quartered and displayed at the king's pleasure. However, since you are a Prince of the Church and may only be punished by an ecclesiastical court, you are to be stripped of all secular wealth, title, and rank. By common consent among the clergy here present, you will walk the Pilgrim's Way barefoot in sackcloth and ashes, and present yourself to His Holiness, the Dalai, in Gelre, whereupon you will be tried and judged for your unseemly acts. Do you have anything to say?"
Bereth stood, a broken man in shackles, between his guards, his head bowed as the sentence was read out. Raising his eyes, he appealed to King Christian, daring to meet the eyes of the monarch he had so blatantly abused.
"Your Majesty, allow me the folly of pride," he pleaded, the charisma that had brought him this far still evident in his voice and manner. "In service of you, and of this country we love so well, I have reached beyond my means. I sought only to end the threat of heresy within the circles of the court, and by zealous over-action, have caused grievous harm to those whom you love, who are innocent of any wrong-doing. Yet our mother Church counsels us to forgive. Can you not forgive me, my sweet lord, and allow me to end my days as nothing more than a common priest, here in the land I love?"
Not a murmur was heard in the court. Often, at this juncture, the king would intercede to scale down the severity of the punishment. Yet today, with his sister and niece sat beside him, still pale and wan from their imprisonment, he spoke no word, the harshness in his face the only reply to Bereth's eloquent plea. There would be no reprieve - Bereth would have to face the harsh justice of the Dalai's court, and hope to survive it, for the Church was not as forgiving as those rulers it counseled.
Yet not all was as unforgiving as it seemed. Charles Beauforte, Duke of Lonnare, was hailed by rich and poor alike as the hero of the hour, and in recompense for his swift action upon his return to the capital ahead of the king, he was granted his wish to marry the Lady Alys Marillier, the king's niece, in a quiet ceremony attended only by their family. The news spread through the capital, and from there, to the lands beyond, like wildfire. For despite all the hardship, the corruption, the blatant misuse of power, something good had come from the bad. Justice had been served, and finally Francia was rid of the most infamous Prince of the Church, for good.