It was now roughly two hours after the recantation of the confessions of John of Kingsbridge and James Green. In the Royal apartments, King Edward was absent.
By now the council had almost completely assembled. Two exceptions were made, one for the Duke of York who was out of the city and another for Prince Richard, who'd gone hunting just before the Carthusians recantation and thus could not be found in time. The only man not present who had no such excuse was the Duke of Clarence, the King's own brother, George Plantagenet.
Sir James Pole, the Lord Chancellor stood and briefed the entire council about what had happened that morning, from the information given to him by the Bishop of Westminster, his own half brother.
"The Master and the Secondary Prior have been declared relapsed heretics. My brother, with the full approval of the English church, has handed them over to us. Now you may dispose of them without reference to any power. Not even the Pope. Can we have--"
The sound of boots pounding down the hall was heard throughout the chamber of the Council.
"--hoped for anything better?"
The door was flung open, revealing George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence.
"What is this I hear, older brother? My lord James Pole says nothing could be better? I must then say that your counsellors are content with very little. I wonder what they will say when things go badly?!"
Whenever that man spoke, the tempo of the conversation quickened.
"There are four senile men who are going to die, and I think that--"
"Two, my lord Clarence. And they are not condemned to death. That is what the King's Highness wishes to discuss. As for any potential uprising, public opinion leans towards the crown or, at worst, only partially divided." Pole responded, as calmly as he could given the nearly 10 years of insults he'd had to endure from the dinosaur of an aristocrat.
"Who in the name of God asks the filth for their opinions? You, Richard Pole? And why? Because you want them to approve the opinions of my brother, God's divinely appointed king! Now the population can do as they please, even killing impoverished nobles because they can get away with it!" the Duke of Clarence exclaimed.
"If the high barons, of whom you are the greatest my lord, had submitted more willingly to the crown we would not now need to rely on popular support."
This whole conversation did not escape Edward IV, who now spoke.
"Brother, the monks. This is all we are discussing."
"Very well," said Clarence, dejectedly.
"Knox," said the King.
The Keeper of the Seals, recovering from a recent fever, stood and began to speak.
"Sire, the event that has just occurred, monstrous and terrible though it is to think on and horrible to hear, proves that every indulgence, every clemency you accord these devil's disciples is a weakness that turns back upon yourself."
"It is true," said the King, "That the clemency that both you and Elizabeth advised, dear brother, has not borne good fruit."
"These wretches do not deserve to be left living, for they have insulted both you and the church. They are heretics--"
"Were."
Knox turned savagely to the Duke of Clarence.
"Your point?" asked the Keeper of the Seals.
"The point is that you have had over a thousand men imprisoned for half a decade. Now you only have four left in your power, two of whom still proclaim their innocence. I think that you are getting more than a little old, considering that over ten years ago, you deposed an Archbishop and Cardinal to boot."
The incident Clarence referred to was when the Keeper of the Seals had dragged Cardinal William Wyn from his seat and beat him severely, fully in view of the English clergy. Knox had been excommunicated as a consequence. It had taken many years to have the papal bull condemning him revoked.
"I know, my Lord Duke of Clarence, that you would take the Brothers of the Sword wherever you went. I think that you are a sodomite or, at the very least, wish to take Jerusalem even at the expense of this realm's wellbeing!" Knox said, purple with anger.
Clarence jumped to his feet.
"Lollard Bastard!"
There was a loud bark from under the table, which caused all of the councilors to bolt out of their chairs, with the exception of King Edward who looked disapprovingly under the table at his hounds and the Prince of Wales, who burst into hysterical laughter.
It was only then that the King raised his voice.
"EDWARD, SHUT UP!"
And the Prince of Wales complied. Aged 24, but having the mental capacity of a 6 year old, he was already nicknamed the Hutin, or headstrong, by the French ambassador.
I cannot believe this idiot is going to succeed me when I die, thought King Edward.
"My brother," Clarence went on "I am simply worried that the Kingdom's power and chivalry is being so wantonly destroyed with no apparent purpose. These men are the only ones able to carry out a crusade, and without them, how could you mount one if you needed to?"
"The King has made it unnecessary to go on crusade. The Chivalry has been kept quiet." Pole responded.
"And the Holy Faith?" Clarence asked.
"The gold taken from the Carthusian Brothers of the Sword has funded the Crown for years. Far more than any trade taken in the name of the Lord. Goods are also traded just as well without the Holy Banner."
George of Clarence finally gave up and simply glared at the Lord Chancellor.
"Brother," said Edward IV. "What is your advice concerning the two Templars? That is our current occupation."
"My counsel?" asked the Duke. Always ready to reform the universe, yet unwilling to aid in the process, he said "Let those who have botched this whole affair conclude it. I will have no part in it."
"Edward, your advice?"
The Prince of Wales was alarmed. He took a few moments to respond, partially because he had no idea what was happening and partly because he had a bit of honey stuck in his teeth.
"Why not... Why not hand them to the Pope?" he asked, confident enough that his answer would be received. He was proven wrong almost immediately.
"Be quiet. Anthony?"
The Lord Chamberlain, Anthony Woodville, brother of the late queen, was a little startled, but spoke nonetheless, hoping that what he said would match the King's mind.
"I'm still thinking Sire."
"Knox, your advice?"
"Let those condemned be punished! Without delay!" said the Keeper of the Seals.
"And the people?" asked the King.
"The riots will subside when those who've provoked them no longer exist." replied the Lord Chancellor.
Visibly disturbed, the Duke of Clarence made one final throw to save the men who were the last militia of Christendom.
"Your Highness must remember that the Grand Prior ranks as an honorary prince of the church. To kill him is an attack on the respect owed to--"
A short glare from his older brother cut him off.
"He and the prior of Yorkshire will burn at sunset at Smithfield. Opposite the Walls. My lord Knox--" he gestured to the Keeper of the Seals "shall draw up the order. I wish all of you, my lords, to attend. Prince Richard shall as well."
And with that, the King left the council chamber. As the Prince of Wales was about to follow him, the Duke of Clarence stopped him and murmured in his ear:
"My nephew, we have witnessed the end of chivalry."
YOU ARE READING
The White Rose
Fanfiction"Accursed! Accursed! You shall be accursed even unto the thirteenth generation of your blood!" The White Rose - Edward the Handsome- is as cold and silent, as handsome and unblinking as a statue. He governs his realm with an iron hand, but he cannot...
