The King's Prophecy

The rabbit was excellent. Following Louis's instructions, the cook had boiled it for a few minutes before stewing it. He had not used too many elaborate spices—only onions, ginger, and some celery. Even the Queen Mother, who was not particularly fond of rabbit, praised it highly.

Mali ate a large bowlful.

Cardinal Mazarin had his servant give him another spoonful as well. That day, he had received a group from England. Because Charles I had gone missing, Queen Mary had insisted that she and Young Charles, Charles I's son, come to France and beg Queen Mother Anne and Mazarin for protection. But Young Charles still stubbornly clung to his status—he was unwilling to cross the sea and seek refuge in another country. Yet anyone could see that England's situation was even more dire than France's. These envoys had been sent by Young Charles. They brought a letter in which he thanked his cousin Louis, as well as his two regents, Queen Mother Anne and Cardinal Mazarin. Still, he insisted on remaining in England to wait, and hoped they could provide some support—men or money. Unfortunately, those were precisely what Louis and his party needed most right now.

Dealing with those people had cost Cardinal Mazarin no small amount of effort, and that evening he had also been obliged to receive the Wizards. He was truly exhausted and hungry.

Before returning to the room where he and the King were temporarily staying, Cardinal Mazarin confessed and prayed to his Lord. Perhaps he truly ought to keep away from those detestable Wizards, but he also knew that neither he nor the French court could do without them. Louis XIII had originally had his own Wizard, but in that well-known riding accident—yes, it had not been an accident—that Wizard had died saving the King. Afterward, two more Wizards had betrayed them, and now he could not even find anyone from the hidden world he could trust. Thus, when his sister asked whether she could have her daughter, Mali Mancini, serve the Queen Mother, he agreed at once.

Of course, Mali's paternal relatives did not wish for her to enter the court as a witch. They possessed titles and power in the Wizards' world; they only hoped Mali could win the same exalted status for them in the surface world.

Cardinal Mazarin somewhat regretted telling the King the truth so directly. Perhaps a deft evasion would have been the best way to resolve the matter. But the moment he returned to the room, such thoughts vanished.

"Did Wizards visit last night?" the King asked, watching him without the slightest intention of looking away.

"They are Mali's relatives." The bishop let out a long sigh inwardly. "Your Majesty, they encountered werewolves. They came to see Mali."

"Then why did they not come to pay homage to me?" Louis continued. "This is my territory, my residence, surrounded by my knights. Tell me, why may they come and go as they please?"

"Your Majesty, they are Wizards."

"Are Wizards not my subjects?"

"They are Neapolitans."

"They seek a place in my court."

Louis lowered his gaze. "Is it that they are unwilling to respect me, or unwilling to respect the King? Even when they have something to ask of me, they remain so arrogantly proud—You said every court has Wizards. Do they all conduct themselves this way?"

Mazarin looked at Louis, the young King. He had long understood Louis's self-control. He had also served for a time as a tutor at a Jesuit school, and children of this age almost always thought only of playing; one had to rap their plump little bottoms with a wooden board before they would focus on their books.

He and Queen Mother Anne had discussed the King's education as well. It was not that they deliberately wished to delay it. The main problem was that France was being battered by storm and rain; only with the devoted efforts of himself, Queen Mother Anne, and a host of ministers could they barely hold things together. An ignorant, mischievous child was not frightening. What was frightening was a child who understood the benefits of power but not how to wield it—like placing a sharp sword in the hands of a small child: either he would hurt himself, or injure other innocents. Besides, as the agents of the Queen Mother and the King, Cardinal Mazarin was stretched too thin, and not just anyone could become the King's teacher. Thus, the matter had naturally stalled.

Yet Louis had never stopped learning. He studied Latin, French, English, and mathematics, then began reading every book he could lay his hands on. Sometimes he read in Cardinal Mazarin's study, so quietly that no one noticed there was a child there.

"...You could say that." Cardinal Mazarin spoke only after a long while. "But, Your Majesty, Wizards are all alike. They belong to the hidden world. They..."

"So they believe themselves above everyone in the surface world, even the King."

Mazarin sighed deeply. "That is indeed so."

"I find such thinking abhorrent," Louis said. "They stand upon my territory and share in my authority and glory. They ought to obey me."

"The origin of the Wizards is Merlin, Your Majesty. Merlin was once King Arthur's teacher."

"Pierre Beauchamp is my teacher as well. If he refused to obey me, I would cut off his head just the same."

Cardinal Mazarin frowned. He did not know whether Louis's words came from a child's wilfulness or somewhere more frightening. "But Beauchamp is only your dance teacher."

"It is all the same," Louis said. "Monsieur Bishop, whether dancing or wizardry, they are the same to me—or rather, of the two, I prefer dancing." Because dancing could never threaten a King.

Mazarin understood what Louis meant beneath his words. For the first time, an utterly bewildered expression appeared on his face. "But, Your Majesty, why would you think so? You are the King. France and Navarre belong to you. In the end, you will be the lord of all peoples."

"But Kings die too, do they not?" Louis said.

"All mortals shall return beneath God's feet," Mazarin said.

"But I hope I can choose in what manner," Louis said. "Is there any news of Charles I?"

It was not until February 1649, when news of Charles I's public execution by the rebels reached Saint-Germain-en-Laye, that Mazarin understood what Louis had meant.