‘Nonsense!’
‘You have to accept the facts,’ Matteo said steadily. ‘You think the King is all-powerful. I tell you he is not. He is weak — and all those who would have sought his protection are fleeing. There is no safety here in London. We need to have a thought for our own survival!’
‘You are our intelligencer. What intelligence do you bring?’ Benedetto asked. Younger than Manuele and more intellectual, he was also taller, a wiry man with the darker skin of one who had only recently returned from Florence. He had spent much of the last year there, and was more used to the Byzantine intrigues of that city. Matteo knew he was much more competent than Manuele, who was grown fat and lazy here in this cold climate. Benedetto was hungry.
‘You know it already,’ Matteo snapped. ‘The Queen has returned to the kingdom, and at no point was she turned back. We know she could have been repelled at sea, but King Edward’s navy refused his orders to stop her. She could also have been prevented from landing, but of the men King Edward sent to capture her, all went over to her side. As she progresses across the kingdom, the King flies before her, losing men-at-arms like a bucket leaking water, while every day her followers grow in number. She will eventually catch her husband — and when she does, who can say what will happen?’
‘She may catch the King, but the King has the authority of the coronation behind him. No one has ever killed a crowned King except those whom God favours.’ Manuele sipped from his wine, eyeing the others as though daring them to argue.
‘It is true. But the Queen has the support of the people. And her son is with her; who would dare to stand in his way? To dispute with her would be to dispute with the future King.’ Matteo was keen to convince them. This could be the end of their house if he failed, and he had no intention of seeing it destroyed. ‘London has declared for her.’
‘London,’ Manuele sneered. ‘The city is only one of many in the realm. It is not like Florence.’
‘True, it is not independent like Florence,’ Matteo said earnestly, ‘but in many ways it is more influential. It helps govern the whole kingdom. The King of this fractious and intolerant people has to be strong to hold their allegiance, and they perceive Edward as weak because of his attachment to Despenser. So they will overthrow him.’
‘In London they will, possibly,’ Benedetto said. ‘But, little brother, I agree with Manuele: there is more to this kingdom than just one city.’
‘Yes,’ Matteo agreed. ‘Men flock to the Queen from all over the realm.’
‘The King has friends elsewhere. What of the Welsh?’
‘My spies tell me some may rise in his support, but there is no sign of it as yet. If they do not hurry to his aid. .’
‘For the King to be saved, they will have to declare for him soon, yes,’ Benedetto put in.
Matteo shook his head impatiently. ‘Do you not see, the King has already lost?’
Benedetto glanced at Manuele. ‘I know it is alarming, but the city can soon be brought back under control.’
‘And if you are wrong?’
‘Matteo, you grow strident,’ Benedetto said with a condescending smile. ‘You bring us intelligence and we adapt our policies to suit. There is no need to become upset.’
‘Brother, the Queen will almost certainly defeat the King. The question is, what then? Will she kill those who caused trouble between her and her husband, but then return the King to the throne?’
‘Of course,’ Benedetto said. ‘She can do nothing else.’
‘She has made her husband wear the cuckold’s hat, brother. She shares a bed with Sir Roger Mortimer. So, tell me, do you think it likely she would return her husband to the throne, knowing he could charge her with treason and have her lover hanged, drawn and quartered? Or would she prefer to see King Edward imprisoned while she rules in his place?’
Benedetto stared at him for a moment, and Matteo saw a shrewd calculation flare in his eyes.
Manuele held up a hand. ‘No! The Queen would of course return her husband to the throne. He has been anointed by God.’
Benedetto kept his eyes on Matteo as he said, ‘I am beginning to think we need to reconsider this.’
‘You have been in Florence too long, Benedetto,’ Manuele scoffed. ‘I have lived here many years. The people may be angry and argumentative, but they believe in the law, and the law does not give them the right to evict their King. They will come to the brink and then surrender, as they have done before. That is why our investment must remain with the King.’
‘And if they don’t?’ Matteo asked pointedly. ‘If you are wrong, and all our money is with him, we shall be ruined, because I do not think the Queen has any liking for our House. She wanted us to help her last year in France and she was snubbed, if you remember?’
Manuele pulled a face, a tacit admission that his decision at that time had been wrong. ‘We thought that she was only there for a little while, and would return to her husband. How was I to know that she would leave him and form a liaison with a traitor? It was only logical to continue to support King Edward.’
‘You took the decision for the best of reasons,’ Matteo concurred, ‘but events have overtaken us.’
Manuele had lost his way, Matteo thought privately. Benedetto was stronger, and he possessed a certain crafty slyness, but he was too concerned with the Queen. It was enough to make a man despair. The bank needed strong leadership now, more than ever, and his brothers were so hidebound.
Matteo wanted to groan. He knew best how to guide the bank because of the flood of reports that swamped his table daily. Armed with that information, he could ensure the security of their money better than either of his brothers.
He tried a persuasive tone: ‘The Queen is back, and we must consider how this changes things for us. We should attempt to win her favour — offer her our support. We must gain her respect and that of her advisers. I have held discussions-’
‘Yes. It is as I have argued,’ Benedetto interrupted smoothly. ‘I have connections with Queen Isabella’s advisers — influential men. They can see that, with our support, she is more likely to succeed in deposing her husband.’
Matteo threw him a suspicious look. He had not expected Benedetto to be persuaded so easily.
‘This is nonsense,’ Manuele snapped. ‘The Queen? Pfft! She is nothing.’
‘We have to retain our position at the heart of the government,’ Benedetto said. ‘It is the source of all our profits. With our money behind her, the Queen can win the realm, and she will have reason to be grateful to us.’
Manuele frowned with exasperation. ‘What risk would there be to our investment in the King if he should return to power?’
‘His reign will soon end,’ Matteo said. ‘The people detest him and his advisers, especially Sir Hugh le Despenser. If Despenser fails to escape, he will be executed, and all the money which we have earned from his investments will be gone.’
‘Despenser’s funds are already gone,’ Benedetto said. ‘He has withdrawn his money, and I doubt that he will return it to us if he flies abroad. I am inclined to the opinion that we should throw our weight behind the Queen. The King is a broken straw.’
‘A broken straw will support cob or daub and make a strong wall,’ Manuele argued. ‘The man will recover his authority. He has done so before.’
‘He may, but I fail to see how,’ Matteo stated. ‘He has so alienated his barons that the country supports his Queen, not him.’
‘So that is why we should give our support to her now,’ Benedetto said. ‘That is your proposal.’
‘I say no!’ Manuele said heatedly. ‘We have invested too much in him.’
‘I do not say we ignore him,’ Matteo said, then paused. From the window, he could hear angry chanting in the street. ‘We should also bear in mind that the King is in need of friends.’