This was the first mention Richard had made, even obliquely, to the fact that he was being held in defiance of Church law, for he’d seen no point in belaboring the obvious. But he thought it couldn’t hurt to remind the Diet that Heinrich was no less guilty than Philippe in that regard.
“That still did not stop Philippe from conniving with my brother against me upon his return to France. And I believe that he instructed his French lords who’d remained in Outremer to thwart me at every turn. I have no other explanation for their conduct. I wanted us to strike at Saladin’s base in Egypt, for that was the true source of his power, and if he thought it was threatened, he’d have been more likely to agree to favorable peace terms. They refused even to consider it. When we learned after our victory at Arsuf that Saladin was razing his stronghold at Ascalon to the ground rather than have it fall into our hands, I wanted us to sail to Ascalon and seize it ere it was destroyed. Again, the French lords balked. I later occupied the ruins of Ascalon and spent a small fortune rebuilding it. It well-nigh broke my heart that we could not persuade Saladin to let it remain in Christian hands. But he did agree that it should not be held by the Saracens, either, and that was no small concession on his part, for Ascalon had been the most formidable of his castles. Yet now I find myself accused of abandoning Ascalon by the very men who thwarted my attempt to take it!
“Nor did their bad faith and perfidy end there. After it was decided that we could not make an assault upon Jerusalem, most of the French withdrew from the army and retreated to Tyre, where they hatched a plan to capture Acre. I was then at Ascalon and only the fact that the Pisans defended the city fiercely until I could come to their rescue saved Acre from falling into the hands of the French. Think about that. They were willing to make war upon their fellow Christians. How that must have delighted the Saracens.”
Richard stalked back toward the dais, pointing accusingly at the Bishop of Beauvais. “This man sought only to sabotage me during our time in the Holy Land and he then slandered my name throughout Christendom. Yet those are not his greatest crimes. Scriptures tell us that we must forgive those who sin against us, for then we will be forgiven by the Heavenly Father. But I will never be able to forgive Philip de Dreux, the Bishop of Beauvais, for his refusal to help us rescue those trapped at Jaffa.”
Richard’s eyes swept the hall before returning to those on the dais. “I daresay you have all heard about the two battles that I fought at Jaffa. But you may not have heard of the treachery of the men who were supposed to be my allies. We had returned to Acre and I was planning to attack Beirut, the last port still under Saladin’s control, when we received a desperate appeal from Jaffa. Saladin had launched a surprise assault upon the city and they did not know how long they could hold out. There were more than four thousand people in Jaffa, many of them soldiers recovering from war wounds—and a goodly number of them were French. Yet when we told the Bishop of Beauvais and the Duke of Burgundy that Jaffa was under attack, they refused to join the rescue mission. Their hatred of me mattered more than the lives of their own countrymen! Then they dared to accuse me of betraying my Christian brethren when the true guilt was theirs.”
Beauvais had seemed on the verge of interrupting several times in the course of Richard’s defense, but each time he’d been silenced by Heinrich. Now he started to rise to his feet, only to sink back in his seat at the emperor’s terse command.
“There may be some in this hall who are loath to believe what I have said about the Duke of Burgundy and the Bishop of Beauvais. But you need not take my word for it. Sir Druon de Mello was with us in the Holy Land, and he is an honest man. If you ask, he will confirm what I’ve said.”
Druon de Mello’s head jerked up. He looked horrified to be the center of attention, and his obvious misery spoke volumes without a word being said. Hadmar was translating again, and when he was done, Richard drew the rolled-up parchment slowly and deliberately from his belt.
“But if you want further evidence that I’ve spoken the truth, I give you this. I would have willingly answered for any offenses I may have committed at the court of the French king, for he is my liege lord. He would never have dared to summon me, though. How do I know that? Because of this,” he said, holding the parchment aloft so all could see.