Hadmar understood Richard’s reasoning; he did not trust any interpreter provided by Heinrich. But when he stepped forward to address the court, Hadmar managed to make Richard’s decision to speak in Latin sound like a courtesy, saying the English king knew that most of the men in the hall were familiar with that language. After a brief exchange with the bishop, he turned back to Richard, saying, “They have agreed to your requests.”
“My requests?” Richard arched a brow in sardonic acknowledgment of Hadmar’s tact, but the latter nudged him, and he saw that the bishop had beckoned a scribe to come forward. The hall had been buzzing since he’d made his entrance, but a silence fell now as the charges against the English king were read aloud.
Hadmar listened closely, waiting until the man paused so he could translate. “They say there can be no doubt that the Almighty wants you punished for your crimes, or else you’d not have fallen into the power of Duke Leopold. There are a number of accusations, including your ill treatment of the duke’s kinsman, Isaac Comnenus, your lust for profit, and your arrogant conduct in the Holy Land. But the most serious charges are your alliance with the usurper King of Sicily, your complicity in the murder of Conrad of Montferrat, and your treacherous conspiracy with the Saracen Sultan of Egypt, Saladin.”
It was what Richard had been expecting to hear and he nodded for Heinrich’s spokesman to continue. This time the scribe spoke at some length, gesturing several times toward the Bishop of Beauvais. The audience leaned forward to hear, their gazes shifting from Richard to Boniface of Montferrat. A handsome, fair-haired man in his thirties, Boniface bore such a striking resemblance to his slain brother that Richard did not need Hadmar’s whispered identification.
“You are accused of recognizing Tancred as Sicily’s king whilst knowing full well that the crown belongs by right of blood to the emperor’s consort, the Empress Constance.” Hadmar would have elaborated, but Richard cut him off impatiently, wanting to know what had been said about Conrad.
“You’ll not like it much,” Hadmar warned. “It is claimed that you were Conrad’s sworn enemy, that you did all you could to thwart his claim to the crown of Jerusalem. And when you saw that you’d failed and he would be king despite your efforts, you hired the Saracen sect called the Assassins to stab Conrad as he rode through the streets of Tyre. One of the Assassins was slain afterward, but the other one was captured and confessed to the Bishop of Beauvais and the Duke of Burgundy that the killing had been done at your behest.”
Richard could feel the anger starting to stir, smoldering embers threatening to blaze into fiery life, but he fought it back, for rage made a man reckless. He shook his head, saying nothing, remembering how carelessly he’d once dismissed the charges by Beauvais and Burgundy, so proudly sure that none who knew him would ever give credence to them.
The scribe was continuing to make the case against him, having saved the most serious accusation for last, that Richard had betrayed his own Christian brethren by an unholy, heinous alliance with infidels. “The Bishop of Beauvais contends that from the day of your arrival in the Holy Land, you showed yourself willing to be beguiled by the Saracens. You at once sought to open negotiations with Saladin. You and he exchanged gifts and courtesies, for all the world as if you were dealing with another Christian king. You met with his brother on numerous occasions, once going off to feast in his tent. You formed friendships with some of Saladin’s emirs and Mamluks. You even dared to knight several of them. And you refused time and time again to lay siege to Jerusalem. No matter how they entreated you, you remained adamant, and you managed to win the native-born Christians and the Templars over to your heretical views, somehow convincing them that Jerusalem could not be taken. You then proved that you were secretly in collusion with Saladin by making a shameful surrender, yielding the stronghold of Ascalon to the infidels, and abandoning the Holy Land to those sons of Perdition, a sin so great that you will surely burn for aye in the hottest flames of Hell.”