The Death of a King

bringing the royal name into common disrepute. They concluded that Palmer must be put to torture, even though this was against the law of the land, and the truth ascertained.
    A week later the court reconvened, but this time we were informed that the king would be present to watch the proceedings from a gallery. Palmer was brought once more before the justices, and this time he was a different man. He had to be upheld by two sergeants and it was more than evident that he had been tortured. His left eye was closed, his face and neck were covered in bruises, and he had lost the use of his left arm. In a broken voice he confessed that he had been dabbling in black magic and that the devil had promised Palmer that if he proclaimed his story, he would be believed, Edward II would be deposed and Palmer would become the new king of England. The justices asked him in what guise the devil appeared and Dunheved and I had to stifle our laughter when Palmer replied that it had been in the form of a cat. Palmer was then taken back to the cells. The justices were summoned to the royal presence and both Dunheved and I were also ordered to attend.
    The king had taken up residence in the infirmary and, when we entered, was standing with his back towards us, studying the one and only tapestry in the room. The justices then knelt before him and we did likewise. The king, however, continued to look at the tapestry and, when I raised my eyes, I thought that he was crying, it was only after a while that I realized that he was shaking with laughter. Eventually he turned and ordered us to rise. My first impression was that Edward II was a king in every aspect. He must have stood over six feet. Long blond hair fell down to his shoulders. His face was long and tanned. His eyes clear blue. He was dressed simply in dark blue robe and hose, with a quilted jerkin over a white cambric shirt. A cloak of the same blue lay thrown across the table, his only ostentation being the large number of rings on each hand, which twinkled and glittered as the king kept nervously stroking his moustache and short fair beard. He looked pleasant and relaxed, though one could detect tension and nervousness as his eyes constantly flickered backwards and forwards. I remembered all the stories about Edward of Caernarvon’s being a lover of men. I could not say if they were true, but it was more than evident that men could love him.
    He questioned the justices in a low clear voice and then turned to us.
    “Well, learned Fathers?” he asked. “What do you think I should do about my brother?”
    Dunheved answered immediately that the king’s brother was an idiot and should be treated as such. The justices gasped and stood rooted with terror while even I thought that Stephen’s impudence would provoke the royal wrath, but Edward simply stared at him for a while and then broke into loud, ringing laughter. He then walked across the room, embraced Dunheved and placed a kiss on each of his cheeks before turning and leaving the room. The justices glared at Dunheved and myself and immediately followed him. The following day we learnt that the justices had had their way as Palmer was to be hanged outside the city walls, although the king’s macabre sense of humour prevailed for a cat was also hanged alongside him.
    In the following weeks I noticed that Dunheved became quieter, remote and difficult to talk to after our interview with the king. It took me some time to realize that Dunheved had become infatuated with Edward and had fallen under the same spell which had ensnared other men. I remember asking him why he had replied with such impudence, he simply answered that he believed that that was what the king wanted him to do. I could only agree. Edward’s presence had been magnetic and even I, cynic as I was, realized that the king was the type of man who either compellingly attracted or totally alienated other people. I could also see that Edward had been attracted, as I had been, by Stephen Dunheved’s forthright manner. Consequently, I was not surprised when, six weeks later, Stephen was summoned by the provincial of the order, who informed him that the king had ordered him to be his personal confessor and that he was to join the royal household once it returned from the French court.
    Both the Dunheveds and I had now parted company. We kept in touch through frequent letters, but we rarely met and the few times I did encounter Stephen, it was more than obvious that