In Guards We Trust
***
Later that afternoon, the king paced up and down on his balcony as he waited for the arrival of the French envoy, his escort and the royal guards accompanying them. As five o’clock approached he wondered whether something had gone wrong. They were all late. He feared that an incident may have occurred in the Devil’s Orifice. The king’s attention drifted away from the palace gates in the foreground as he noticed movement on the large central quay in the harbour. He went inside the palace to retrieve his telescope. This revealed that the French troops had indeed arrived. Some of them were on the main quay near the royal guards which the king had deployed to prevent an escape by any of the refugees. The French were obviously taking their own precautions to prevent any nobles from slipping through to the ships.
It was not much longer before Commander Du Pont arrived at the palace. He was ushered into the Great Hall. The king sat on the throne in the front of the hall in one of his finest robes. He wore his crown. He knew that the pomp and circumstance of the occasion would irritate the republican envoy. The king had formed a less than flattering impression of Du Pont from the separate accounts of the man given to him by Captain Anders and the Marquis.
The Great Hall spanned two hundred feet in length and fifty feet in width. It had ornate high ceilings with recessed windows which permitted natural light to reflect onto the white ceiling. A red carpet stretched from the entrance of the hall all the way down a central passage leading to the elevated platform in the front of the Hall which supported the thrones of the king and the queen. As had been the case for the past five years, the queen’s throne remained unoccupied. A red velvet curtain behind the thrones concealed the royal entrance to the Great Hall. Two marginally lower segments of the platform flanked either side of each throne. Each segment supported three seats which were occupied by the Royal Council of Six. The royal ensign was displayed above the two thrones. Two rows of seats faced the central isle on either side of the red carpet in the Great Hall. Both rows stretched along the length of the hall. The second row on each side was slightly elevated above the first.
Two royal guards stood at either side of the entrance to the great hall. The red carpet formed a T immediately in front of the throne and the carpet led to two doors on the left and the right of the front of the hall. Two guards stood on either side of each door. No seats were ordinarily provided for persons granted an audience in the Great Hall. Audiences in the Great Hall were typically formal and of relatively short duration. Longer or private audiences with the king would ordinarily occur in the Chamber of Knights or in the royal lounge.
‘Announcing Commander Du Pont of the French Republican army.’ The usher stood on his podium near the front of the great hall.
‘Your majesty,’ Commander Du Pont said. Those words clearly did not come easily to him. The king noted that Commander Du Pont had failed to bow or even nod. He turned to the usher, and feigning annoyance he stated loudly:
‘Where is this republican commander? He is late. If he does not turn up promptly I will be obliged to close court for today and he will have to wait until tomorrow for an audience’.
The commander’s jaw clenched tightly as he glared at the king.
‘I am right here in front of you,’ Du Pont eventually announced in an elevated voice.
‘I cannot imagine how much longer we are expected to wait,’ the king went on without so much as looking at Du Pont or acknowledging his presence. The usher stepped in. He had never seen the king behaving in this manner before.
‘Your majesty, may I be permitted to mention that the Commander is standing right in front of you.’
‘I cannot see him.’
‘Could he have failed to observe the proper etiquette of this Court?’ the duke prompted in an effort to assist the usher.
‘He used the correct term of address, your grace.’ A slightly bewildered look on the usher’s face then gave way to a broad smile. ‘However, I do not recall seeing a bow or even a nod directed at your majesty’s throne.’
Du Pont’s face turned purple with rage as the nature of the king’s complaint became evident to him too.
‘Kindly inform his majesty that I am a republican. I do not bow to anyone but God.’
‘If you see our visitor, please enlighten him that if and when he turns up at Court tomorrow, that he is expected to bow or at least to nod. I realise that this might not be in keeping with his beliefs nor may it be in keeping with those of many of his countrymen. However, he is presently an envoy to a foreign court and protocol requires that the customs of the foreign court apply. The customs and values of the envoy’s place of origin do not apply. Not only is this a matter of protocol, but it is also one of common courtesy. I trust that even republicans do not object to courtesy or to good manners.’
As the king stood up and prepared to withdraw, Du Pont relented.
‘Quite so, your majesty.’ Du Pont nodded in the king’s direction.
The king immediately sat down.
‘Ah. There you are! I bid you welcome to my Court. Perhaps you can now enlighten us as to the purpose for which this audience has been sought.’
‘I am here at the behest of my government. I have here a list of twenty four people who are fugitives from French justice and who are moreover the enemies of France. They are presently known to be hiding in this principality. My government demands that they be handed over to me.’
‘Upon what authority does your government rely for its demand?’ the king enquired with raised eyebrows. ‘An extradition agreement or possibly some other document?’
‘My government relies on the treaty of Montuga concluded in 1592.’
The king turned briefly to his right and he beamed at Duke Le Riche.
Duke Le Riche nodded in return.
‘As encouraging as your referral to the treaty of Montuga as an existing treaty may be, I must admit to having some reservations,’ the king mused.
‘Reservations?’
‘Yes. One has to wonder about whether the republican government in your country is genuinely disposed towards honouring a treaty which recognises the very system of government which your government has overthrown and replaced.’
‘My government’s reliance upon the terms of the treaty in support of its request stands as its unambiguous endorsement of the treaty itself.’
‘I presume then, that you have come armed with some document bearing a seal, which confirms your orders, or which at the very least, confirms your government’s ratification of the treaty.’
‘I have instructions which confirm the treaty and which bear the seal of the French government in Paris. However I am not permitted to part with it.’
‘Monsieur Du Pont. I am most anxious to comply with the treaty upon which you and your government rely. However, I cannot assist you without a document, authenticated by a seal, which can be stored in our archives and which can serve as irrefutable proof of the new French government’s irrevocable commitment to the treaty between our two countries. If the original is the only document you have, I could have our scribes transcribe it for you without delay. You will retain a copy. I will retain the original.’
‘That will not be necessary,’ Du Pont stated as he reluctantly handed his original orders to the king’s usher. The king perused the document. The list of names included the Marquis d’Artois. Mercifully at least, Philippe’s name was not on the list.
‘Monsieur Du Pont, I require that you inform your government that Montuga severed diplomatic relations with Austria and Prussia during the course of the last week. This was done not because we have any disputes with either of those countries. It was done solely because France is at war with both of them and Montuga wishes to avoid any suggestion whatsoever that Montuga is associating itself with any enemy of France.’
‘I shall convey this to my government.’
‘I have also taken steps to ensure that no fugitives from France were able to slip through to board any of the trading vess
els. I have set up a military check point at the entrance to the harbour. You will have noticed that this check point was set up prior to the delivery of your list.’
‘I saw the check point.’
‘Now it bears mentioning that the people whose extradition you seek are not enemies of the kingdom of Montuga. They are, according to your government, enemies of the republic of France. It is indeed with reluctance that we consent to hand these people over to your custody since we fear for their lives if we do so. That said, Montuga accepts that the treaty between our countries precludes us from providing sanctuary to declared enemies of France. Now that you have identified and named these persons as enemies, we have no choice but to seek them out and to deliver them to you.’
‘I shall return tomorrow at noon to find out how the matter is progressing’, Du Pont announced and he requested to be excused.
The list was immediately copied and circulated to the officers of the royal guard. It did not take long for all the French refugees on the list to be located. The royal guards were assisted by several ardent Montugan republicans who had no qualms regarding the fate awaiting the refugees in France. They had been monitoring the movements of all strangers entering the kingdom subsequent to the revolution in France. The royal guards were also assisted by others who took no pleasure at all in the arrest of the refugees or in the fate awaiting them. Their concern was simply that if Montuga failed to comply with the treaty of 1592, France might invade it.
A few of the nobles on the list who had received advance warning of their impending arrest rushed to the few remaining foreign embassies in Monte Vista in a desperate attempt to escape their fate. They were dismayed to find that all the embassies, save for the Russian embassy, had conveniently closed for a few days. Three nobles were delighted to be granted an audience with the Russian ambassador. Their joy was short lived however. The ambassador advised the nobles of his regrettable inability to assist. He explained that any such assistance would unfortunately place Russia in an embarrassing position in relation to both Montuga and France. After being served refreshments, they were requested to hand themselves over to the Montugan royal guards who had arrived at the entrance of the embassy and who were waiting for them.