The old man raised his head quickly. He shaded his eyes with one hand against the glow of the candle which stood on the table between them and scrutinized Louis sharply.
“In the dormitorium, Death passed before me,” Orléans said, while they stared into each other’s eyes. “If I had put out my hand, I could have touched him — he was so real. Don’t say that I imagined it — I was thinking about other things. Without wishing it, without being prepared for it, I suddenly felt the chill which emanated from him and I saw him too, although it was dark all around me. How else would I know that he can transfix one with a stare from eyeless sockets — that he whispers without tongue or lips?”
“You came from a banquet, my lord. Drinking the wine and listening to the music, you had perhaps given no thought to the fleeting nature of pleasure. Death frequently surprises men at such moments. Perhaps it is as well that you were reminded of more important matters.”
Louis stifled the anger which welled up in him at these words; he forced himself to smile courteously as usual. “If I can be charged with no worse debauchery than attending my son’s christening feast…” he tried to joke, but broke off.
“God knows, Monseigneur, that you waste enough time on matters which are in essence perhaps as senseless as debaucheries,” said de Maizieres in a low voice, folding his gaunt hands before him on the table.
“What do you mean by that?” Louis did not look up; his fingers drummed the table top.
“You know very well what I mean, Monseigneur, but it cannot harm either of us if I repeat my meaning within these walls. I have told you often enough that I believe you waste your time on enterprises which fade away like rings on the water. What is the point of looking for conquests in Italy when a hundred paces from your palace gate there is chaos which cries out for quick action?”
Louis bit his lip and frowned; although he paused for a moment to collect himself, his voice held an undertone of impatient annoyance.
“Did I ever initiate these enterprises, as you call them? Do you think I would be stupid enough to put my hand all alone into that hornets’ nest on the other side of the Alps without support from the King or the Pope? But by the time the King became ill too much had happened — I could not withdraw. I had to carry on even though my father-in-law and Pope Clement had deserted me. You don’t need to worry about me any longer, because nothing will come of my kingdom on the Adriatic Sea now that the Pope is dead. If I were to persist in carrying on my purpose in Italy, the brotherhood of former fighters would presumably unite against me.”
“I am delighted that you see things this way, my lord. I was afraid you might not abandon the enterprise in spite of recent events. There are more serious problems here now. You have an extremely responsible position, and one which puts the obligation upon you of forgetting your personal interests. Now that the King cannot reign, you must act in the name of the Crown.”
Louis laughed softly; the bitterness did not escape de Maizieres.
“I wish you would deliver this speech sometime to my uncle of Burgundy, who sees — or professes to see — only self-interest in everything I do, and who does not hesitate to tell everyone that I am busy undermining my brother’s throne. As though everything I have done had not been worked out with the King when he still had his health — and since he became ill — for the last two years I have acted only in the interests of France. Those provinces which have been allotted to me — along with the whole Italian affair — behind all this is only the necessity to act in French interests. My lord uncles would never act as champions of the Kingdom, if it came to that… my brother knows that/ would never turn against him — on the contrary. It’s laughable the dark motives the Duke of Burgundy sees behind every gift of land.”
He leaned toward the old man and went on with passion.
“And now, this summer, as you know, the King confided the country of Angoulême to me. When he was lucid, we spoke of it together — he saw himself that it was of the utmost importance that a region so close to the English front should lie in trusted hands. If the war party conquers in London, all treaties are meaningless. Can you see my lord uncles marching to defend Paris? But you can well imagine that any new acquisition on my part gives Burgundy an opportunity to spew new venom. Ah!”
He made a sound of deep aversion and clenched his fist on the table.
“I don’t like to speak this way about my kinsmen, and God knows I would make every effort to maintain good relations — but sometimes I feel like someone who must dance in a field of thisdes, whirling gracefully in complicated steps, without being scratched or pricked for otherwise … it is like a picture from a nightmare.”
He bent forward, pressing his fists to his forehead and gave a short, despairing laugh. De Maizieres heard him laughing and, more than by bitter words, the old man was alarmed by this laughter, which sounded like sobbing. Never before had Louis lost control so openly. De Maizieres sat motionless, too shocked to speak. However, Louis knew how to recover himself quickly. He looked up, smiling in his usual ironic manner, and said, “Fortunately, courtesy does not forbid me to choose my weapons in this secret combat. If my uncle of Burgundy is as cunning as they say, he will understand the significance of my having taken a thisde for my new device, my having conferred the title Comte d’Angoulême on my new-born son … and my having instituted an order, the order of the hedgehog, in his honor.”
“It seems to me that you ought not to waste your time on childish skirmishes with emblems and titles,” said de Maizieres acidly. “Now what was it you wished to discuss with me, my lord?”
“The Queen wishes my wife to leave the court. She has wanted that for a long time. But there never was a valid reason and in truth there is none now either, although the Queen is making every effort to find one, with the help of Madame of Burgundy, who begrudges my wife first place at the court. There are strange rumours circulating — I shall not repeat them — you know about them, perhaps?”
De Maizieres shook his head and Louis continued quickly.
“I consider it demeaning to pay attention to these kinds of stories, but I am positive this is creating feelings against my wife who deserves such treatment less than anyone. I think she suspects something already, and if she knew the Queen’s real purpose, she would go away at once, and she would not come back unbidden even if the stars fell from heaven. The situation has become so tense that I must do something … but what? I would like to spare my wife humiliation, but I cannot send her away without a reason. Sometimes I think I should quit Paris for good, with Valentine and the children.”
De Maizieres stood up so abruptly that his sleeves swept the loose pages of a manuscript from the table to the floor.
“My lord! You cannot possibly mean that. Will you deprive us of the only hope we have left since your father died? Monseigneur, you have never stood on the field in the heat of battle — if you had, you would know the meaning of desertion—”
The blood rushed into Louis’ cheeks. He rose also.
“Yes! Desertion!” De Maizieres continued in a voice trembling with emotion. “Even high treason, my lord! At this moment France has no other king but you. I know it is a thankless role you must play, concealed behind the throne, threatened on all sides. But you cannot be permitted to abandon the role even for a single instant, my lord; no one realizes better than I how much disappointment you have swallowed, how upsetting your situation is — but you must not give way.”