it of you as a further favor: that upon liberating the Vatican from Borja, and returning to my seat upon the cathedra, I may announce that my first official departure from Rome will be to visit my peerless friends in Grantville.”
Sharon bowed. “We would be honored, Your Holiness.”
“No, my daughter,” he said with a solemn smile. “It is you who would be extending a singular honor to me.”
And with a bow, he left. Vitelleschi followed. Wadding wandered out well behind them, hands behind his back, head lowered in thought. Larry Mazzare stayed behind, staring at the walls and realizing that, in regard to the Roman Catholic Church, Now, nothing will be as it was before. With this, everything changes.
As they walked out the front door-strolling in the back was unspeakably depressing and subtly disrespectful- Father-General Muzio Vitelleschi felt quietly pleased with himself as he primly asked: “So, I take it that this Council has been a help to you, Holy Father?”
“A help to me?” Urban laughed. “I did not require this Council’s deliberations to help me.”
“No? Then whom?”
The pope smiled. “It was to help you, my dear Vitelleschi.”
It took Vitelleschi a second to realize that his mouth was hanging open. He finally sputtered: “Me? How? In what way?”
“Ah, Vitelleschi, old friend, how else could I know your true mind? And how else could you be free to know it yourself?”
“I do not understand, Your Holiness.”
Urban smiled. “Without this process, you would have followed my decisions-as you always have-because that is your job. And you would have done so ardently and firmly, because of our long years together. But that is a very different thing from believing in something yourself. And I needed to know what you believed. That way, I could compare your conclusions with my own. But more importantly, I needed your convictions — whatever they might be-to be wholly and utterly your own. I did not want you torn between duty to me on one side, doctrinal doubts on the other, and with the middle-ground a mire of contending ideas and conjectures. No. You need to be as firmly committed to this new course, to our new policies, as I am.”
“And had my conclusions been at variance with your own?”
Urban shrugged. “Then I would have restudied my tentative decisions on the matter.” He smiled and glanced back at Wadding who was just emerging, squinting, into the sunlight. “After all, had your conclusions been different, you would then have been offering me the same counsel as Luke Wadding. And if the former Fathers Vitelleschi and Wadding can agree on something-if the epoch’s leading Jesuit and Franciscan minds are in such unprecedented unison on any topic-then a wise pope must consider that true miracle a sign from God and take heed!”
PART SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
As Sharon watched, the second dirigible that the USE had leased for its Mediterranean operations appeared between the rounded crests of the northern Berici Hills, heading east. Other members of her recently reconstituted but still displaced embassy looked up to see it pass.
“There’s our ride,” murmured Larry Mazzare, beside her.
“Your ride,” she corrected. “That one is only returning as far as Chur.” She frowned. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but do you have any idea where Urban is going to go after getting there?”
Mazzare shrugged. “No idea; I’ll send a message from wherever we wind up.”
Sharon put a hand on the small-town priest’s arm. “And again I probably shouldn’t ask, but are you sure you want to go with him?”
“Want to?” Larry’s laugh was sudden and short. “Speaking as an individual, I most certainly do not want to. I just want to go back home, like you. But speaking as a priest, I want to go wherever he goes, come what may. Besides, Urban needs me, both as a cardinal in whatever Consistory he can summon to him, and as a radio- equipped emissary from the USE. At least he’s arranged for excellent security-and is scooping up more all the time. And ever since Urban’s survival was announced, and attested to by the priests who met us in Vincenza last week, most of the papal troops have stopped responding-even halfheartedly-to Borja’s orders.”
Sharon leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Is it true that Urban made one or two of the bishops who came to see him in Vincenza cardinals in pectore?”
Mazzare glared at her. “Who told you that?”
“No one. Well, actually you did, by the way you just reacted.” She smiled sweetly at Larry.
Mazzare muttered, “Remind me not to play poker with you.” They shared a small smile and looked out over the small, remote valley just a day south of Vincenza; although sparsely settled by the standards of the Venetian Republic, the smattering of houses on the lush green hills produced a sensation of overcrowding after weeks in the almost uninhabited mountains around Molini. “Will you miss it?” Mazzare asked suddenly.
“Miss what? Italy?”
“No. Being an ambassador.”
“Well, maybe a bit.” Sharon, you are such a liar; one half of you is dying to get home and get reacquainted with real honest-to-goodness running water, and the other half is screaming that it’s like the old song says, “you can’t go home again”-because what will ever compare to all this? Damn; I’m probably borderline PTSD now, but I’ve never felt so alive, and useful, and needed in my whole life. And how much is Ruy going to want a quiet domestic life? Hell, how much do I want it-if at all? “It was a lot more dangerous than I anticipated,” she added after a moment.
“Well, danger should not be a problem for those of us traveling with Urban, now. As soon the pope’s personal friends heard he was alive, they started sending their most trusted retainers to join him. And the growing radio network north of the Alps has certainly accelerated the pace at which news of his survival has been spreading.”
Ruy’s voice rose behind them. “Yes, I have heard as much. I just finished decoding the latest messages from both the USE and the Low Countries. Given the guard contingents our pope’s many friends are sending, it sounds as though the papal entourage may well be the safest place in Christendom. Also, the leadership of both the USE and the Low Countries have agreed to the pope’s choice of a personal security chief.”
Mazzare frowned. “Why was the consent of both states required?”
“Ah, because the poor fool Urban requested for the job has ties to both polities.”
Sharon heard the odd emphasis upon “poor fool” and turned to face Ruy. “You? He chose you?”
“Ah, you see? My magnificent wife misses even not the subtlest hint! She is truly as quick-witted as she is beautiful.”
“Ruy! Without even asking me? How could you-?”
“Eh. About that, my heart. The transmission from the USE had a few desultory lines included for your lustrous self as well.”
Oh. Great. “And what are they?”
“You have been made the USE’s officially appointed envoy to the papal entourage and its official political representative to the council Urban intends to convene.”
Well, did I speak too soon about not wanting to go home, or what? And yet, truth be told, Sharon also felt relieved and perhaps just the tiniest bit excited as well. “So I guess this means we don’t get to fly back on the repaired Monster.”
“That is correct, my love. We will be in the balloon to Chur. But as I understand it, the Monster will fly along
