lord?” he asked carefully. “Will Charles d’Anjou take the throne?”
“It is my hope, yes. At the Council of Lyons, Pope Gregory arranged for Maria of Antioch to sell her rights to Jerusalem’s crown to Charles. When the sale is completed, which I expect it will be within the year, he will be able to make his claim against King Hugh. And we will be governed once more by a capable ruler.”
Will didn’t miss the disdain in Guillaume’s tone. He had heard much talk of these matters since word reached Acre of events at Lyons. The current king of Jerusalem was Hugh III, who was also king of Cyprus. The position was obsolete, Jerusalem having been lost to the Muslims, but the title remained and gave the bearer authority over Acre and what was left of the Franks’ lands in Outremer. Rather than remain in Cyprus and let a regent control Acre, as many of his predecessors had, Hugh decided to exercise his authority. Will had noticed increasing complaints about the young king’s interference; the government of Acre, made up of knight-masters, nobles, merchants, the commune of burghers and officials from the High Court, had successfully resisted royal rule for decades and had grown used to their autonomy. Another person opposed to Hugh’s rule was his cousin, Maria, a princess of the vanquished city of Antioch, who believed she held the rightful claim to the throne. Such conflicts had split Outremer apart before, and the lawyers of Acre, aware of the danger the schism posed, had decreed that Hugh should take the crown. Will could understand their decision: the young king of Cyprus was a much surer candidate than an old, unmarried princess, but Maria had reportedly turned up at the Council of Lyons to complain, and the pope had convinced her to sell her rights to Charles d’Anjou.
Will had heard the seneschal remark that Pope Gregory wasn’t impressed by Hugh and sought the elevation of a stronger leader. But he couldn’t see how Charles, the powerful king of Sicily, could unify things. Hugh was unlikely to yield his throne without a fight, and with the grand master and d’Anjou arrayed against him, old battle lines would surely be drawn up: the Temple and the Venetians banding together under Charles, the Hospitallers and the Genoese under Hugh. Will had the distinct impression that if things did go the way the grand master hoped, they would get bloodier before they got better.
“Still,” said Guillaume brusquely, seeming to realize he had said more than he should, “such matters should be discussed when there are others present to hear them.” He stood. “I summoned you here to thank you and instead I have talked you deaf.” He spread his hands apologetically and gave Will a charmingly boyish smile. “It was a long journey. I was alone with my thoughts for quite some time. You must forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my lord.”
“There is one last thing.” The grand master clasped his hands behind his back. “I would like you to find out who wanted me dead. My attacker was not an experienced killer, of that I am certain, and as I know of no reason why a young peasant should wish me harm, it is entirely possible that he was acting under the orders of another. Having inspected the body, Marshal de Sevrey believes him to have been an Italian. That and this boy you pursued are the only trails I can see to be followed. But I want you to look.”
“Perhaps, my lord,” began Will, “the marshal, or the grand commander, might be better suited to organizing such a task?”
“You are the only one who was aware of my attacker and the only one who saw the boy. I cannot think of anyone better suited.”
Outside, a hollow clanging informed them that it was time for Vespers. The grand master didn’t take his eyes off Will.
Will was filled with a sinking feeling. He had more than enough work to do for the Anima Templi. But the grand master was waiting for a response. “Yes, my lord, of
“It is my hope, yes. At the Council of Lyons, Pope Gregory arranged for Maria of Antioch to sell her rights to Jerusalem’s crown to Charles. When the sale is completed, which I expect it will be within the year, he will be able to make his claim against King Hugh. And we will be governed once more by a capable ruler.”
Will didn’t miss the disdain in Guillaume’s tone. He had heard much talk of these matters since word reached Acre of events at Lyons. The current king of Jerusalem was Hugh III, who was also king of Cyprus. The position was obsolete, Jerusalem having been lost to the Muslims, but the title remained and gave the bearer authority over Acre and what was left of the Franks’ lands in Outremer. Rather than remain in Cyprus and let a regent control Acre, as many of his predecessors had, Hugh decided to exercise his authority. Will had noticed increasing complaints about the young king’s interference; the government of Acre, made up of knight-masters, nobles, merchants, the commune of burghers and officials from the High Court, had successfully resisted royal rule for decades and had grown used to their autonomy. Another person opposed to Hugh’s rule was his cousin, Maria, a princess of the vanquished city of Antioch, who believed she held the rightful claim to the throne. Such conflicts had split Outremer apart before, and the lawyers of Acre, aware of the danger the schism posed, had decreed that Hugh should take the crown. Will could understand their decision: the young king of Cyprus was a much surer candidate than an old, unmarried princess, but Maria had reportedly turned up at the Council of Lyons to complain, and the pope had convinced her to sell her rights to Charles d’Anjou.
Will had heard the seneschal remark that Pope Gregory wasn’t impressed by Hugh and sought the elevation of a stronger leader. But he couldn’t see how Charles, the powerful king of Sicily, could unify things. Hugh was unlikely to yield his throne without a fight, and with the grand master and d’Anjou arrayed against him, old battle lines would surely be drawn up: the Temple and the Venetians banding together under Charles, the Hospitallers and the Genoese under Hugh. Will had the distinct impression that if things did go the way the grand master hoped, they would get bloodier before they got better.
“Still,” said Guillaume brusquely, seeming to realize he had said more than he should, “such matters should be discussed when there are others present to hear them.” He stood. “I summoned you here to thank you and instead I have talked you deaf.” He spread his hands apologetically and gave Will a charmingly boyish smile. “It was a long journey. I was alone with my thoughts for quite some time. You must forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my lord.”
“There is one last thing.” The grand master clasped his hands behind his back. “I would like you to find out who wanted me dead. My attacker was not an experienced killer, of that I am certain, and as I know of no reason why a young peasant should wish me harm, it is entirely possible that he was acting under the orders of another. Having inspected the body, Marshal de Sevrey believes him to have been an Italian. That and this boy you pursued are the only trails I can see to be followed. But I want you to look.”
“Perhaps, my lord,” began Will, “the marshal, or the grand commander, might be better suited to organizing such a task?”
“You are the only one who was aware of my attacker and the only one who saw the boy. I cannot think of anyone better suited.”
Outside, a hollow clanging informed them that it was time for Vespers. The grand master didn’t take his eyes off Will.
Will was filled with a sinking feeling. He had more than enough work to do for the Anima Templi. But the grand master was waiting for a response. “Yes, my lord, of
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