03 Requiem The Fall of the Templars by Robyn Young

Author:Robyn Young
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The afternoon was dragging on, the sun glaring white on the walls of the buildings. Ahead, across the street, the gates of the papal palace were shut and barred. The wood was splintered and dented in places, but the damage had occurred in the initial attack and since then there had been no further attempt to break through. Around the gates, the ground was littered with bodies. The nightgown of a young woman, lying crumpled near the walls, fluttered in the hot wind like a flag, stained with her blood, the arrow that killed her a black exclamation from her chest.

The assault on the palace had been chaos. The mob flowed through the town, riding or running up the steep alleys to converge on the compound, which contained the pope’s residence, the homes of his family and the cathedral, all enclosed behind stout walls, the hillside tumbling sheer beyond. Knights, soldiers and townsfolk vied to be the first in, lest the glory or bounty be taken by others. Despite the fierce commands of Sciarra Colonna and Godfrey Bussa, and the discipline of their immediate troops, this unruly mass had pushed forward, unheeding. Horses reared and people were shoved to the ground. As the first attackers reached the gates and began battering them with fists and weapons there were flashes of motion in the dawn sky. Screams sounded. But it was some moments before the crowd realised arrows were shooting down into them from the palace walls.

The crush at the gates became a rout as people started to flee. The mounted knights had been the first away, followed by soldiers lifting shields over their heads. It was the people of Anagni, untrained and unarmed, who bore the brunt of the palace’s defence. Those who didn’t fall fled back into the alleys they had poured out of or else broke their way into houses to take cover. Remaining grimly efficient throughout the confusion, Sciarra brought his men to order and regrouped in the streets beyond the walls.

It was shortly after this, when the sky was turning pearlescent blue, that a loud voice had sounded from the walls, demanding to know the meaning of the assault. When Sciarra made to answer, Nogaret beat him to it, so desperate to regain control of the situation he walked right out into the corpse-strewn street without shield or weapon.

‘By order of Lord Philippe le Bel, King of France,’ the minister had called out, ‘Boniface is to be arrested for the crime of heresy. He will submit and be taken to Paris to stand trial.’

‘We wish to negotiate a truce,’ the anonymous voice responded.

‘You have until an hour after Nones,’ Sciarra had replied, riding out beside Nogaret. ‘At that time you will answer the following demands. In his last action as pope, Boniface will reinstate Giacomo and Pietro Colonna in the Sacred College. After this he will deliver the papal treasury to the remaining cardinals and give himself up to the authority of France.’

The truce agreed, Sciarra’s knights settled in to wait.

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