De Plaisians made a soft laugh. ‘Yes, why not? I admit to a fondness for those plump little girls from the Parloir aux Bourgeois. I think the odours of frying fat and leather stir the loins of a man too accustomed to perfumes. However, queens too are tasty morsels, not without their uses, for one must not think the sport of Eros and the games of intrigue mutually exclusive.’
‘Plaisians, control your tongue, these are serious matters!’ the count said, and he gave a spluttering sneeze.
‘If I cannot control it in matters of love, why should I do so in matters of intrigue? First of all,’ de Plaisians continued, taking the other man’s arm so that they both walked in step, ‘let me give you some advice – you must be attentus. Pretending always to know little, so that whatever he tells you, he must repeat a second time, even more precisely. Then you ingratiate yourself with little lies, little gratuities, but only little ones, for he shall soon get wind of it if you exaggerate your love . . . That is how I am with women, Count, and it has stood me in good stead.’
‘Wait!’ The man was confused. ‘Of whom do you speak?’
‘Why, the King, of course! We must be able to anticipate his every move and, above all, we must know his own thoughts even before he knows them.’
‘To what advantage? Monsieur, you are confounding me!’ he whispered harshly, stopping in his tracks.
‘Everything is to the advantage of a man who seeks to become more celebrated than his brother.’
There was a look of horror and the pale face grew paler and sweat began to glisten over the bulbous forehead; he gave another sneeze. He brought a wet cloth to his nose and blew loudly into it. ‘You are mistaken, monsieur! And you are a traitor into the bargain!’ The count loosened himself from the lawyer’s hold and began to walk away, but something stopped him and he turned around, fear composing the lines of his face into a grimace. He sniffed and passed his trembling fingers through his thinning hair. ‘What,’ he trembled, ‘is it that you want of me, Plaisians?’
Suddenly a group of guards and notaries, courtiers and advisers passed them. The palace seemed engulfed in imbroglio.
‘Not here, come . . . let us find a chamber . . .’ De Plaisians opened a door nearby that led from the corridor to a room adorned with paintings and tapestries. Here it was cold, dim and empty. ‘This is perfect. After you?’ He bowed deferentially.
The count huffed and snorted and, narrowing his eyes, entered the room.
Once they were inside and the door was shut, de Plaisians spoke from out of the gloom. ‘I hope whatever it is you are preparing has been well prepared,’ he said, delighted to be confounding the other man. ‘As it is I have done most of it for you, we only await the result.’
‘Most of it?’
‘Why yes, nearly all of it really.’
‘Monsieur, what do you speak of?’
‘Come now, dear Count . . . the brothers Aunay, the princesses, your future crown!’
The man gasped. ‘For the love of God! What are you saying, Plaisians?’
‘Please Count, to feign ignorance is most unnecessary, for I know you to be a man whose political skill I liken to . . . to Caesar! Your courage to Hannibal!’ He paused to see what effect this had on the count before continuing. ‘That the Pope overlooked your estimable virtues and appointed another man emperor signals his incompetence, for you are a man who, after all, knows the necessity of countering difficulties and dangers with a prowess that is treacherous certainly, but also . . . timely and wise.’
‘Well . . .’ said the other man, frowning and coughing, but an unsettled contentment was discerned clearly in his thick, oily voice. ‘Necessity dictates . . . one’s actions . . . but . . . what are you talking about?’
‘The princesses, my dear Count! Ah! Marguerite of Navarre, if you could see her as nature has made her, you would think her nothing less than a wondrous architecture of womanhood! She is the thunder of heaven! She is that nepenthe that inspires unsatisfied satisfaction!’
‘Enough!’ The count, whose sexual impotence was commonly known, sniffed again, wetly. ‘Tell me everything.’
De Plaisians smiled to the very edges of his dimpled cheeks. ‘Once Marguerite was satisfied, and I myself achieved this with very little trouble, the other princess was in a hurry to see what she was missing. Now, you see, these poor women, who had not known the pleasures of love, could not afterwards bear to be parted from them . . . After I distanced myself from their warm beds they began looking around for lovers and that is when their gaze fell upon your equerries, quite naturally.’