“I’d sooner jab a needle into my eye!”
Hadmar had been expecting such a reaction and raised his hand. “At least hear me out. After Emperor Heinrich’s father drowned on his way to the Holy Land, much of the German army died when a plague struck Antioch. Heinrich’s brother Friedrich eventually got the survivors to the siege camp at Acre, only then to die of a fever himself. Yes, I realize you know all this, but indulge me. When Duke Leopold and the Austrians arrived several months later, he took command of the Germans as the highest-ranking vassal of the emperor. So when you treated his banner with such blatant disrespect, you were insulting the Germans as well as the Austrians. Many of the men in the great hall think that you maligned Duke Leopold’s courage and have contempt for all those of German blood.”
“That is nonsense! I never accused Leopold of cowardice, just bad judgment. And my sister’s sons and daughter, who are half German, are very dear to me.”
“Nevertheless, this is what many believe and it is up to you to convince them it is not so. You can best do that by showing respect for Heinrich’s rank, if not for the man himself.”
“Even if I could assure them that I harbor no hatred of Germans, do you truly think that would affect their verdict?”
Richard knew Hadmar had tried in his way to be honest and he did not disappoint now. “No,” he conceded, “most likely it would not. But it could not hurt, either.” And with nothing more to be said, he signaled to the guards that it was time to escort the English king to face his accusers.
THE BISHOP OF SALISBURY had been anxiously watching the doorway and as soon as Richard’s guards appeared, he jumped to his feet and hurried toward them. They seemed hesitant, unsure if he should be permitted to approach the prisoner, but Hadmar said something in German and they stepped aside. Hubert had hoped to be able to alert Richard, but he was too late. His king was surveying the hall, his gaze moving from the men seated on the rows of benches to those on the dais. His audible, indrawn breath told Hubert that he’d spotted the man seated to Heinrich’s left.
“I am sorry, sire,” Hubert said softly. “We did not know the Bishop of Beauvais was here until this morning, or I would have gotten word to you somehow.”
Richard was staring at the French bishop with loathing he made no attempt to conceal. “It might be for the best,” he said at last. “I can hardly call Heinrich a liar to his face in front of his own Imperial Diet, but I’m free to expose Beauvais for the treacherous snake that he is.”
Hubert felt a throb of relief, for he’d been troubled by his first glimpse of Richard; the deep shadows hovering under his eyes testified to a wakeful night. But he’d heard the English king sound like this before—coolheaded and composed, able to adapt his strategy to changing circumstances. This was the way he was on the battlefield, and Hubert thought he’d never faced a more daunting battle than he did on this March Monday in Holy Week.
There was a stir in the hall as the French envoys rose and, after bowing to the emperor, moved to intercept Richard. He knew one of them, Druon de Mello, for he’d been with the French army in the Holy Land. Richard had a favorable opinion of the older lord, seeing him as an honorable man often burdened by his king with tasks he found distasteful, and indeed, Druon did not look happy. “My lord Richard,” he said, with another polite bow. “We bring you this from our lord, the king of the French.”
Richard took the parchment, broke the seal, and read. When he glanced up, he saw that two of the envoys were regarding him challengingly, but Druon had averted his gaze. Without comment, he passed the letter to Hubert Walter, smiling grimly at the bishop’s angry exclamation. Retrieving the parchment, he rolled it up and tucked it into his belt, and then, knowing he was the focal point of all eyes, he raised his head defiantly, determined that they’d see him show no unease.
The man Hadmar had identified as the Bishop of Speyer now rose to his feet and began to speak. When he was done, Hadmar said in a low voice, “The bishop says that they have found someone who speaks French so that you may understand the charges against you. He will also translate your responses into German.”
“How magnanimous. Tell them it is not necessary. I prefer that you be the one to interpret for me. And I will be responding in Latin, not French.”