"Mark me, Bayeux, I'll not swear out my throne to Urban no matter how many legates and emissaries he sends to bedevil me."

"Tell His Eminence that his continued attempts to leech authority from the throne make this most sacred display of loyalty a mockery." Cardinal Ranulf of Bayeux moved to a place across the table from his pacing king. "Tell him to stuff the Fisherman's Ring up his sanctimonious-"

"Ha!" cried William. "If I told him that, he would excommunicate me without a second thought."

"Do you care?" countered Ranulf smoothly. "Your Majesty holds Rome in contempt in any of a hundred ways already."

"You go too far! My faith, or lack of it, is my own affair. I'll not be chastised by the likes of you, Bayeux."

Ranulf bowed his head as if to accept the reprimand and said, "Methinks you misunderstand me, Sire. I meant that the king of England need spare no thought for Pope Urban's tender feelings. As you suggest, it is a simple enough matter to offer support to his rival, Clement."

William allowed himself to be calmed by the gentle and shrewd assertions of his justiciar. "It is that," sneered William. The king of England surveyed the remains of his midday meal as if the table were a battlefield and he was searching for survivors. "I much prefer Clement anyway."

"You see?" Ranulf smiled, pleased with the way he had steered the king to his point of view. "God continues to grace your reign, Sire. In his wisdom, he has provided a timely alternative. Let it be known and voiced abroad that you support Clement, and we'll soon see how the worm writhes."

"If Urban suspected I was inclined to pledge loyalty to Clement, he might cease badgering me." William spied a nearby goblet on the table; there was still some wine in it, so he gulped it down. "He might even try to woo me back into his camp instead. Is that what you mean?"