Pope Nicholas was younger than Torfida had imagined. She stared intently at the great gold crucifix around his neck, gleaming in the sun, rubies and emeralds at each corner. More like a weapon of war than an instrument of a disciple of Christ, his mace, embossed with the crossed keys of the Vatican, rested across his right elbow. He wore a short red cape, edged in ermine, and a tall conical cap encrusted with yet more precious stones. As he passed in his open carriage, he opened his palms in a gesture of peace to the adoring crowds.
Two powerful men from Rome accompanied the Pope. The first was the wise old Abbot Desiderius of Monte Cassino, whom Nicholas had just appointed Cardinal Priest and Papal Legate to Campania, Benevento, Apulia and Calabria. The second was the Benedictine monk Hildebrand, Papal Ambassador at Large and thought to be the most astute man in Europe. The Pope needed these two men at his side if his reign was to have any meaning. Not only did he have military and political problems, he was also faced with deep-seated moral issues within the Church.
First of all, he wanted to reform the process of elections to the papacy, to avoid schisms and the emergence of rival popes. Secondly, simony, the sale of ecclesiastical positions, encouraged widespread corruption throughout Christendom. Thirdly, concubinage, the taking of wives by members of the Church, was common throughout Europe and led to widespread criticism of the hypocrisy of its priesthood. These issues led to frequent revolts within the clergy and the growth of radical reform groups.
In short, the Church of Rome was in tumult and Nicholas was planning a series of synods to cure it of its ills.
It would not be easy.
The investiture at Melfi was a grand affair. Robert Guiscard knelt before the Pontiff and kissed his ring before the Pope placed three crowns on his head in succession, to symbolize his lordship of the three domains. Each crowning was accompanied by loud cheering and a fanfare from Melfi’s walls by three sets of trumpeters: one from the Vatican, one from the local Italian nobility and one from Guiscard’s Norman army.
It had been announced that, following the ceremonial rites, the Pope would say mass in the open air, after which the congregation could file past for a blessing. Einar and the three women were in position early, to be close to the front, but Martin and Hereward watched from a distance, feeling rather more cynical about the sanctity of Rome.
The worshippers were brought forward in large groups and knelt before the Pope, heads bowed, to receive the papal anointing. When it came to the turn of Torfida’s group, instead of moving on after the blessing, she stood, genuflected, and spoke directly to the Pontiff.
It was unheard of for anyone to speak to the Pope without being spoken to first. The papal guards moved forward to apprehend Torfida; Einar, who was just behind her, looked back towards Hereward and Martin with an anxious glance. Pope Nicholas looked bemused and turned to his companions, Desiderius and Hildebrand, both of whom were smiling wryly. He also began to smile and signalled to his guards to relent. Torfida had spoken in impeccable Latin and had asked him, in the most humble of ways, if he had ever read the writings of the Venerable Bede, the Anglo-Saxon scholar-monk, especially The Martyrology of the Birthdays of the Holy Martyrs.
There were a few moments of agonizing silence, as Torfida waited to hear if the Pope would respond. She kept her head bowed as far as it would go, her eyes firmly closed. Hereward shifted uneasily. He was desperate to be by her side and thought back to his moment of truth in front of Macbeth’s army.
This was Torfida’s moment.
Pope Nicholas spoke clearly and confessed that although he had heard of Bede, he had never studied his works.
‘But I have,’ interrupted Hildebrand.
‘And so have I,’ said Cardinal Desiderius. He turned to Torfida. ‘How do you know the writings of Bede, my child?’
Torfida was at least ten yards from the three holy men and had to project in a clear and loud voice. ‘My father read them to me when I was a little girl, your Eminence, I know them by heart.’
‘But there are hundreds of pages.’
‘His words are wise and easy to remember, and my father was an excellent teacher.’
The Pope, now charmed by Torfida’s exemplary Latin and, no doubt, her beauty, spoke again. ‘Who was your father?’
‘A priest of Winchester, your Holiness, a scholar and confessor to Queen Emma, mother of Edward, King of England.’
‘What became of your father?’
‘That is a long story, your Holiness. One which would delay you unnecessarily and prevent these good people from receiving your blessing.’
‘Yes, indeed. Thank you for reminding me about the works of Bede; I will be sure to read them.’
Torfida bowed deeply and moved on.
Einar, Ingigerd and Maria rushed her away from the crowds and they later rendezvoused with Hereward and Martin in a quiet part of the city. Little was said between them; they were shocked that Torfida had been so foolhardy in a strange world so far from home.
Hereward thought he understood — Torfida felt she needed to grasp every opportunity, no matter how intimidating, to find the path that would reveal their destiny.
That evening, Robert Guiscard presided over a grand feast in the Great Hall of Melfi. It was an evening of much merriment, with an inebriated Duke doing most of the talking; minstrels played and there was a clever display of juggling and trickery by a troupe from Venice.
As soon as it was polite to do so, the Pope withdrew to his rooms. He had already made inquiries about the bold young woman who had spoken to him during the day and had sent word to her that he would grant her an audience.
Hereward had insisted that he accompany her. He looked around now at the ostentatious trappings of the Pope’s quarters in wonder; he had not seen such treasures since he had had his private audience with King Edward at Winchester. Only five years had passed in what was becoming an ever more eventful life. He was still only twenty-four, Torfida just twenty. The young English couple knelt as the Pope and his companions entered the room.
For over an hour, they conversed with three of the wisest men in Europe. The men were intrigued by the story of Hereward’s turbulent life, and enchanted by Torfida as she recited from the Gospels and talked at length about Bede. She asked them about dogma, probed them about morality within the Church and queried the lack of separation between Church and State. They seemed not to be in the slightest offended or discomforted and treated her as an equal. Hildebrand, in particular, seemed to admire her broad knowledge and her grasp of theology.
Finally, with some trepidation, she raised the subject of the Talisman and, as she began to describe it, saw the benign look on the face of Cardinal Desiderius turn to consternation.
‘If the Talisman you speak of is the one I think it is, you should be careful what you say to us here. Not only that, you should hand it to us immediately, so that it can be locked away deep in the crypt of the Vatican.’
‘Why, your Eminence?’
‘The Devil’s Amulet, if that’s what it is, was hidden in the tomb of a heretic in the vaults of my monastery at Monte Cassino for many centuries. Legend says that it was a pagan amulet worn by the high priestess of a satanic cult in Ancient Rome. It was stolen in the sixth century, when the Lombards sacked the monastery, and was never seen again.’
‘But I know it as the Talisman of Truth.’
‘That may be so, but it is dangerous for you to dabble with such things. Perhaps you are a witch, come to beguile us with your sweet smile and clever words, and this husband of yours sent by Lucifer to protect you.’
Hereward stiffened at the sudden change in the mood of the Cardinal.
Torfida was shocked at the ferocity of the tirade and took a deep breath.
The Pope looked concerned. ‘Calm yourself, Desiderius. Let us hear what the young woman has to say.’
‘Thank you, Holiness. The Talisman was given to me by my father. He interpreted it differently and thought it represented the ultimate dilemma in men’s hearts: the struggle between good and evil.’
Desiderius still looked scornful, but Hildebrand cocked his head as if he knew what was coming next. The Pope saw the change of expression and listened carefully as Torfida described the Talisman in detail.
‘There is no doubt that it is the face of the Devil, surrounded by his acolytes, but it also contains the blood of
