Iain Pears - The Dream of Scipio

And with a mighty scowl and a ruined morning, God’s vicegerent on earth stamped out of the chapel.

“WELL THEN? Get on with it. What is so important that you ruin my music, my breakfast, and my morning?”

“Holiness, do you wish to take the papacy to Rome?” “A strange way to start. Why do you ask such a thing?”

“Because you may have to. There is a plan to make sure you have no alternative but to leave this city. Aigues-Mortes is to be delivered to the English. When it is, the king of France will blame the Countess of Provence and want you to condemn her. You will have a hard time refusing him, I think. And if you condemn her, your chances of buying this city from her, or even remaining in it, will be small.”

Clement’s mind, subtle in matters of theology, was direct when it came to statesmanship, but now it hardly needed either. He scarcely needed to think at all to grasp that such an unfolding of events would be catastrophic. He would be reduced in an instant from serene overlord of Christendom to wandering priest, or at best a local magnate, battling against the petty warlords of Rome. Who would allow him to be peace-maker between French and English, to dictate the policies of the empire, to call up and direct a crusade, when he could not even keep his own house in order?

“You know this? Or is it something you have imagined to win my attention?”

“I am a mere servant, and a poet, Holiness. I have no taste for intrigue. I could not have invented this. I have read a letter, setting out just such a plan.”

“From? To?”

“It was written by the Bishop of Winchester. To Cardinal Ceccani.”

Clement sat down and thought. Then he wagged his finger at Olivier. “I know you, young man. You are Ceccani’s favorite. And yet you come here to tell me this? Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I want a reward.” He could have given a long justification to exculpate himself, to demonstrate that he acted with honor, appealed to higher motives. He did not do so; he was selling his master; he knew it and did not wish to disguise it.

“And that is?”

“I want my teacher and his servant released from this place. The two Jews. They have done no wrong, the accusation was made simply to weaken Cardinal de Deaux. And I want you to stop this campaign against the Jews before any more people die. If all Jews are threatened, then so are they, as long as they live.”

Clement waved his hands in irritation as if to dismiss the very idea. “The world is crumbling into ruin. Armies are marching. Men and women are dying everywhere, in huge numbers. Fields are abandoned and towns deserted. The wrath of the Lord is upon us and He may be intending to destroy the whole of creation. People are without leaders and direction. They want to be given a reason for this, so they can be reassured, so they will return to their prayers and their obediences. All this is going on, and you are concerned about the safety of two Jews?”

Olivier stayed silent. He was not meant to reply.

“I wish to do something which will make my name light up history,” Clement said. “I will be remembered as the man who rid the world, once and for all, of the scourge of these people. Who eradicated a daily offense against God. For more than a thousand years they have had their chance, and for all that, they have spat on the truth as they once spat on Our Lord. This is the moment to strike against them. Do you doubt it is a noble thing? A necessary, justified act, delayed for too long already? The Jews must convert, or be killed. Ceccani is right; it will bring men back together with a common purpose; reunite them with the church. I have merely to say the word, and it will be done.”

Olivier lifted his head and looked at him. “Then do not say it, sir. A conversion by force cannot be pleasing to God, only to men. The Lord built His church on love and faith, not on lies and threats. Obedience is nothing without faith. When Saint Peter took up a sword against the soldier, He took that sword from him and healed the man’s ear. And you are his heir on earth; take the sword from Ceccani’s hand as well; do not do what he suggests. Rather, do the opposite; extend your protection and love to these people, just as Christ loved sinners as much as He loved those who had faith. Live up to the name you chose when you ascended to Peter’s chair. Be clement by nature, as well as by name. Let that be your memorial. So that in the future men will think of you and say, ‘He had such love for humanity he gave the cloak of his protection even to the Jews. And by doing so, let all men see that as God is love, so is His church, even for the worst sinners, and for those most deserving punishment.’ ”

Olivier took a deep breath, then continued: “Otherwise, you will spend the rest of your life wandering the world, homeless and friendless. Men will laugh at you, no one will listen to you. Because I will not tell you how the gates of Aigues-Mortes will be opened, or when, and you will not be able to discover enough in time to stop it.”

Clement was sitting, listening to his words carefully, not throwing him from the room as he deserved. Olivier had touched something in him, he knew. But he was not there yet. “You have not yet convinced me this is anything other than some sort of elaborate trick,” he said. “You say you have seen a letter, but you do not produce it. Is there such a thing? If there is, perhaps it was written by one of his enemies? You say you have a letter proving Cardinal Ceccani is guilty of the most terrible betrayal of me, and yet here you are, wandering around this town in broad daylight, quite unmolested. If I were Ceccani, I would have cut your throat before you came near me.”

“He does not know I am here. But there is a letter.”

“Give it to me, then.”

“I cannot. There is no time. Either for you or for me. The torture of the two Jews will start soon, if it has not already. There will be more riots in the streets when night falls. And you must move quickly if you are to save Aigues-Mortes for the French.”

“You are suggesting I take severe measures against a cardinal who is my closest advisor, on your word alone? No, young man. How do I know you have not been suborned by de Deaux? Or maybe you have a dispute of your own with Ceccani and wish to ruin him in revenge? You are unconvincing. I will do nothing on the basis of what you say.”

He was half-convinced, Olivier knew, and very worried. Clement knew quite well that it was a scheme Ceccani was capable of devising. But he was not sure enough to act. Not ruthless enough, perhaps. Ceccani would have done so already, on half the evidence. But the pontiff was a gentler, more pacific man, less able to think ill of people, and who found disturbance almost painful. Olivier found his prize slipping from his fingers, and so tried his final throw.

“Holiness, you say you are surprised I have not been silenced. So am I. I do not think my safety will last long.”

He paused. “Send someone to find me this evening. If I am still unmolested, then I have not proved my case, for why would anyone wish to do me harm?”

Olivier stopped, and looked carefully at the pontiff. “If someone has attacked me, then arrest him as the person who will deliver Aigues-Mortes to the English for the cardinal. Interrogate him, and discover the truth. You will also remember that the man who conceived this plan is the one who is also urging you to begin a crusade against the Jews. And you will think about that carefully before you follow his advice to soak your name in blood for his purposes.”

Clement considered. “Very well. I accept your offer. By this evening we will know whether you are a liar or a fool.”

“As for my friends, I am not trying to force you to save these two people; I leave them to your mercy and ask for no more.”