The Defender Of The Faith

On the castle green below, the Crown Prince chased a black cat under the ever watchful eye of the King.

***

Father Gustavo hated this backwater island; too cold in the winter, too sweltering in the summer. But the murder of the Crown Prince of Feriones demanded immediate attention from the Holy Lateran Inquisition. He dabbed the sweat from his jowls, yearning to be back amongst his estate where the soft breeze off the ocean stirred his grape vines. What he would give to listen to that symphony instead of the babbling knight chained with him.

“Ser Rodger, cease your stammering. It’s…hck…unbecoming,” Father Gustavo said. Blood dripped from Ser Rodger’s chained wrists onto the table. How long he had been chained here, the priest could not say.

“It was not me, I swear!” Ser Rodger cried, the swelling in his eyes preventing any tears from falling.

“The Prince was under your protection, Ser. I have eyewitnesses of you entering his tower, and not a quarter of an hour later, the Prince vanished. Now please, tell me where the Prince’s body is, and I’ll make your atonement swift.”

“That was not I, I swear…” Ser Rodger's voice trailed off into incomprehensible babbling–an unfortunate byproduct of extracting teeth. Father Gustavo would never have resorted to such barbarity. The accusation was little more than a condemned man’s flailing by Father Gustavo’s estimation. The King was off on the coast, and he had another son in any case. What did he have to gain by murdering one?

“Guards, take him away,” The priest waved absently. Ser Rodger screamed as two men-at-arms hauled the knight from the chamber.

Father Gustavo sighed. His duties were not limited to this crime, which he was certain Ser Rodger was guilty of. The King of Feriones had petitioned for the title of Defender of the Faith, and Father Gustavo had been charged with gathering the measure of him.

***

Father Gustavo’s stomach growled. The hours grew longer, not that he noticed trapped within this tower. Baron John Albereth answered his summons still donning his muddy hunting boots and knife. It bothered Father Gustavo little. Even if the man wished him harm, there was little such a lowly lord could do against the power of God.

“As I said, Father, that morning I was in the King’s Chapel with Father Lionus where we discussed the sanctity of God’s creation. Poignant seeing as I had spent the day before hunting with the good Father Lionus where he gave little thought to that hog’s sanctity.”

“And you heard nothing of plotting, nor ill will toward the young Prince?” Father Gustavo said, hoping the steward would deliver lunch before he passed out.

“Oh God no–apologies Father, sharp tongue. Time on ships and in camps will do that to the most pious men, I promise you that. But nothing of the sort. Most everyone loved the Prince.”

“Most?”

“Some ain't too keen on the King, it’s true. Powerful men can have that effect. Might be someone wanted to send a message?” the Baron shrugged absently as he speculated. Father Gustavo’s stomach rolled again. The Baron’s story checked out–he had already discussed the comings and goings with the pious, albeit pompous Father Lionus.

“Enlighten me, in whose retinue is Ser Rodger?”

“I believe that is Lord Umbridge, father. Surprising if you ask me. Didn’t think Ser Rodger had the stomach for murderin' a child.”

“Maybe…Maybe…Thank you, Baron. If I may indulge, was your hunt fruitful?”

The Baron laughed, “Have a taste for pheasant?”

***

“Thank you for answering my summons, Lord Treasurer. I hope the journey wasn’t too arduous.”

“Not at all, Father. Of what assistance may I be to our church?”

“While I have no suspicion of your involvement in this deplorable business, I have some questions regarding…motivations.”

“I’m a simple money counter, Father,” The Lord Treasurer offered his palms out accordingly, and Father Gustavo was struck by the fineness of his silk robes.

“I wouldn’t belittle yourself so. Now, with the line of succession still firmly with the king’s remaining son, I’m left to wonder what manner of evil I am dealing with–greed or wrath.”

“Well, this sounds like a philosophical problem, father, well outside the bounds of my expertise.”

“No, I think your expertise is exactly what is needed. I assume you know of the King’s petition to be invested as Defender of the Faith?”

“But of course. Who isn’t?”

“Then I assume the King would have tasked you with printing the sums of potential ecclesiastical taxes the Defender of the Faith might draw upon?”

The Lord Treasurer reclined slightly, “Yes, you know, he did.”

“And which of his lords would see the largest draw?”

“Well, that would be Lord Umbridge seeing as he’s the largest landowner after the King.”

“Thank you, sir. Do you believe he would pay the dues to the church promptly?"

"Aye, he would."

"Now please, indulge my curiosity. What is the royal treasury spending on lately.”

“Ships mostly. The King has a peculiar interest in them. Now, if you will indulge me, Father, this land has a dearth of good reds and I would love to hear about your famed expertise in exporting such a delicate commodity.”

***

Father Gustavo swatted at the flies circling the neatly-cleaned pheasant bones. All dinner was missing was a good glass of red wine.

“And you saw nothing that day?” He said, setting down the glass of swill that they called wine. Frail, pale, and utterly out of place in an interrogation, Lady Rachel sat stock still in the wooden chair; they didn’t even bother to bind her wrists.

“No sir, father, if it pleases. I didn’t see or hear anything.”

“I didn’t think so. Thank you. If I may change the subject, I believe you and the King were fostered together, yes?”

She nodded fiercely. “Aye at Highbury.”

“Tell me about him.”

“I…well…”

“Out with it.”

“It’s just, he’s the King. Doesn’t seem right to speak about him.”

Father Gustavo sighed, “My child, all are servants beneath god. The king is nothing more than another of our servants.”

“He was…” she looked around the chamber anxiously. Father Gustavo nodded for her to continue. “Well, he was always fierce. How could you not with the crown hanging over your head? I remember watching as the boys would duel with wooden swords. Once, the elder Lord Albereth bested him. Michael…I’m sorry, the King, stayed in the yard with the Master Armorer Yeoran until the sun went down, then demanded torches to continue. He never lost again.”

“And is he a pious man?”

“Oh yes, very much so. The only thing he studied more than the sword was his Catechist.”

Father Gustavo set down his quill. He had to admit, the answer surprised him–he had seen enough courts to know that godliness often came second to ambition.

“Tell me, were there any affairs that might embarrass the king? You can speak plainly; God sees all,” he said, addressing her trepidation.

“Lots of whispers, mind you, he’s the king after all. Some say he may have risen too quickly–have too much under his thumb, but that was always him.”

“I understand. Nothing you’ve seen though?”

“No, never. He was always loyal to the Queen, and I was there when the boys were born. They’re hers alright. He’s a good king. We’re happy to serve,” Lady Rachel said. Father Gustavo scratched his parchment. He had wondered if the Prince had been some unknown bastard, but Kings and Queens were offered little privacy in those matters for a reason.

“Thank you, Lady. You may go. Please, send in the stewards,” Father Gustavo said, pleased.

***

“Tell me, Lord Umbridge, where were you when the Prince’s disappeared?” Father Gustavo felt refreshed. A good night's sleep under a cool breeze had done him wonders, and the end was in sight. Lord Umbridge sat rigid before him, but with a determined strength and confidence. Coupled with his stocky build and wisen strength, he gave Father Gustavo the impression of an old oak tree.

“I had ridden to the Castunbury Market. Part of my duties is overseeing the Quartermasters.”

“Seems odd that someone of such a high rank would go himself, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Proper oversight of this castle can require a heavy hand, Father,” Lord Umbridge sneered.

“We are both simple servants of the King and God.”

Lord Umbridge scoffed. “The King is anything but simple. Don’t let this court fool you. The veil of piety is thin.”

“Hmm,” Father Gustavo tapped his quill.

“I’m sorry, do you wish me to continue?”

“I do, your lordship.”

“It’s court, full of lords and ladies stabbing each other in one way or another.”

“But of course, you’re above such matters, Lord Umbridge?”

“I’m not a saint, nor do I pretend to be. That’s the difference.”

“Indeed. How long have you served as Castellan?” Father Gustavo asked, scratching away at this parchment.

“I was appointed by King Michael the First, and have served honorably since.”

“What about those in your employ? It seems to me Ser Rodger is the most likely culprit in this heinous crime.”

“Probably is. I hear he denies it. What of it?”

“Well, I’m sure you can appreciate my position. If there’s a conspiracy to be uncovered here, well, as you say, that work can require a heavy hand.”

Lord Umbridge rose, and the amber of the hearthfire did little to cover the redness rising in his face. “Do you accuse me of murdering a child, father? I deny it. I may have little love for the King, but I am no monster. You think I’d still be here if I did?”

“I make no such accusation, yet. Guards, please remove Lord Umbridge.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, straightening his doublet and departing.

Father Gustavo set his quill down.

***

They sat in Father Gustavo’s chambers, sipping a welcome goblet of red wine as the embers in the hearth died.

“So he would serve the Lateran Church well?”

“He’s the most godly I’ve seen,” Father Lionus said.

“Good, good. I’m preparing my report back to the Pope. I believe we may have found a strong ally in these lands and see no reason he should not be invested as the Defender of the Faith. It’s as if this terrible sin has paved the path to a new divine prosperity.”

“Do you wish to speak with him yourself? I’m sure the King would answer your summons, and it’s not so long a journey. I can have them sent tonight.”

“No, that’s unnecessary. It’s not uncommon to be named in absentia,” Father Gustavo said after a moment. He said nothing about his desires to put this land behind him.

“I am glad the summons were answered by one so enlightened as you, Father. Your inquisition is complete then?”

“Yes, I believe it is.”

***

That night, God watched as two pyres licked the heavens.

***

On the castle green below, the Crown Prince chased a black cat under the ever-watchful eye of the King. Baron Albereth accompanied him, donning Ser Rodgers' stolen doublet. The fool did not even have the sense to burn it.

“It is done then?” The King said as if discussing the selection for dinner.

“‘Course m’lord. You should have seen ‘ole Umbridge burnt to a crisp. I take it you’ve already seized his lands?”

“The moment Father Gustavo’s Bull naming me as Defender arrived. What of the Prince’s body?”

“Out deep in the forest. They’ll never find it,” Lord Albereth said, shivering at the coldness.

“Good. The Lateran Church has grown grotesque. I intend to cleanse it. Our crusade back across the sea for the Papal Crown has begun.”

“Sounds lovely. Give me a summons next time you need someone stuck.”

The king waved, and the grating sound of the chamber's iron gate against the stones followed.

“I’m sorry John.”

Before Lord Albereth could draw his blade, a spear entered his spine.

“I can suffer your understanding, but I cannot suffer your departure.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

My best Writing Battle performance so far. Ended up with a 6 and lost in the final battle to our house runner up. Getting closer each time! I based this story on the true story of the Princes of the Tower. Most of the feedback I received was related to pacing, but conceded that there was not much that could have been done with the word count restrictions. Interestingly, I was expecting more feedback on genre adherence, but only one made a comment about that. Most said it was a clever take on the prompts!

If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops. Want to read more? Below are the best of the very best of my works: