Scarlet From Gold (Book 3) (39 page)

The cardinal had no reaction.

“And how did you enter the underworld?” the man asked.

“The spirit of Ophiuchus bargained with Thanatos to allow me to enter through Persephone’s Gate,” Marco said.

“And what did you do in the underworld?  You obviously came back out,” Statbir said.

Marco took in a deep breath.  “I was carrying the body of Lady Iasco when I went in, and I resurrected her,” Marco explained, then waited for the cardinal to request more information, or to express skepticism.

“And then you and she and the spirit of another dead woman returned to the world and are uniting to fight against the evil forces of the Docleatae?” Statbir summed up.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Marco said weakly, surprised by the cardinal’s apparent knowledge of his activities.

“The Holy Father has had a missive from the Lady Iasco, in which she laid out an astonishing report of events and concerns, and the actions she believes must be taken,” Statbir said.  “You were not looked for to come right to us, but your role in her story is crucial, perhaps the most important news of the whole chain of events.”

“Why is the boy so important?” Colonna asked.

“He has been chosen by the Spirit Ophiuchus herself, one of the most benevolent aspects of God that we are graced to know.  And he has fulfilled the impossible tasks the spirit has burdened him with!” the cardinal answered.

“That’s why, when a young friar’s incredible story circulated rapidly up to the offices of the holy father, it was clear that Fate had brought the Golden Hand right to our own front door – an opportunity not to be missed.  So I hope your schedule permits you to have lunch with the Holy Father himself, to explain your mission to him,” the Cardinal spoke.

“Of course, of course,” Colonna immediately answered.  “There’s no question.  We will certainly be available.  Please send a coach to our inn to pick us up,” he suggested.

Colonna and Marco were dismissed, and rode back to their inn.  “What an honor!” the count exclaimed as they rode.  “I didn’t know that I rode with such an exalted personage!

“Though perhaps we better wait to see what the Holy Father says before I decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing,” the count bantered.

They arrived back at their inn with much of the morning left, letting Marco wander about in the near neighborhood, exploring the scenes and activity of the bustling city until it was time to return to the inn and ride in the luxurious coach that waited to deliver Colonna and him back to the basilica.

The audience room they entered was peopled only with a half dozen servants and staff people.  Colonna and Marco were told to remain standing, and a minute later the Holy Father, dressed in a surprisingly simple cloth robe, appeared.

Marco followed Colonna’s lead and bowed deeply to the head of the church, then sat when Colonna sat, at a wave of the hand of their host, who also sat in a regal chair that towered over theirs.

“Hold your hand up, my young friend,” the Holy Father addressed Marco first.  “No, the golden one,” he added as Marco raised his left hand in confusion.

“So that is the instrument of our rescue?” the leader asked.

“Were your travels from the Lion City pleasant?” he asked Colonna.

“The roads were dry and safe, your holiness,” Colonna answered.

“Of course they were; your young prodigy probably fixed the weather to be good all along the route,” the leader replied.

“Could you do that?” Colonna turned to Marco to ask.

“I don’t think so; I’ve never thought about it,” Marco answered.

“Golden Hand, the Lady Iasco is infatuated with your moral strength and courage,” the Holy Father told them.  “She gushes over all that you have done, and so I have to ask – is your marriage collar a sign that you’re married to her?”  He winked at Colonna as he watched Marco turn a deep scarlet color, confused by the question.

“You don’t have to answer that of course,” the elderly man kindly told Marco.  “I have just a few simple questions for you.  You are foretold in the prophecies naturally, and so I ask only that you let me know what I can do to help your mission.  If it is within my power, I’ll make it so.”

“Your holiness, as you undoubtedly know, young Marco is traveling to Nappanee to seek the support of Grand Prince Neapole in this war the young man is going to wage.  I believe that if you were to send your personal representative along with us to Nappanee, it would add strength to his petition,” Colonna replied immediately.  “You understand how things stand in the city down there.”

The Holy Father nodded his head sagely.  “I understand your meaning.  Though I’m not sure my offices carry much weight among the Nappanese, I will gladly send a legate along with you,” he promised.

“And what about you, Golden Hand?  What can I do for you personally?  You’ve given quite a great deal already it seems in this campaign that is being waged, and I’d like to offer you some reward,” the man addressed Marco directly.

“Please send a note to Mirra, and tell her that I love her,” Marco answered.

“That would be a note to the Marquessa of Sant Jeroni,” the Holy Father spoke to a scribe that was seated behind him.  “Have such a note prepared.

“I will certainly tell her that you do, and that we all admire her for sharing you with the world,” he told Marco.  “And now, one more thing, come kneel before me,” he ordered Marco.

The elderly man placed his hands atop Marco’s head.  “In the name of all the saints, and spirits, and powers, I name you as the Blessed Virtuous Sorcerer of the church, a title that you and you alone will carry.  May all your actions and thoughts live up to the title – if they do, you will succeed no matter what the odds are against you, I foretell this now.”

He removed his hands from Marco, then stood up.  “Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to meet you.  I must go on to other duties, but my thoughts and my prayers will go with you on your mission,” he said.

“Farewell, Count,” he added, then left the room.

Marco and Colonna silently left the audience room, and returned to the carriage that awaited them.

“So, you’re virtuous?” Colonna grinned at Marco.

Marco looked over at the smiling face, and felt the intimidation of the meeting with the Holy Father fall away.  “It’s my official title – I must be,” he proclaimed.

“How I wish I had been proclaimed virtuous by the Holy Father thirty years ago when I was a young buck!  I could have told all the maidens in the city that my actions with them would always be virtuous!” he roared with laughter at his own wit, and Marco laughed with him.

Marco stared out the window after that, watching the scenery they passed by, as he recalled the Holy Father’s comments about prophecies that predicted the Golden Hand.  He wondered what they said, and he wondered if they were the same prophecies that Lady Iasco had referred to, or if they were a different reference.  It was unsettling to think that he was not simply himself, a single person who made decisions, but was a result of greater forces that unstoppably led him to do certain things.

That night they arranged to have dinner at a humble restaurant with the Holy Father’s legate.  “Since he knows you’re so virtuous, perhaps the Father will send a beautiful woman as his legate; what do you think?” Colonna asked Marco, still much given to enjoying the new title Marco had received.

The legate was not a beautiful woman; the legate was a fit and trim middle aged man.  “It’s such an honor to meet you,” he said smoothly to Marco and Count Colonna.  “I’m honored to have this opportunity to travel with men of such high esteem.  My name is Cardinal Savoy.”

The Cardinal was a learned, scholarly man who seemed to Marco to have perfect manners.  The meal was simple food in a plain setting, but both Colonna and Marco thought the evening was delightful, and the next morning they rode out of town together, along with Colonna’s servants and a servant for Savoy.  The day turned rainy, the roads turned muddy, and the legate’s authority obtained an early evening’s hospitality for them at a nobleman’s villa, where they sat in front of a fire to dry out before dinner, and talked to their host.

The following two days were better weather, and at the end of the second day they reached a monastery on the outskirts of Nappanee, where they spent the night in Spartan but comfortable lodgings.  The next morning Cardinal Savoy wrote a letter to Grand Prince Neapole, explaining his expectation of an audience that afternoon.

“Now, what can you do to make an impression on the Grand Prince?” Savoy asked as the three travelers ate breakfast.

“It’s important to understand the corruption and treachery that is commonplace in Nappanee,” Count Colonna said.  “Subtlety is very important.”

“Ordinarily, I would agree, if we had the time for the long, patient haggling that is typical of Nappanese politics.  However, I understand that we are rather pressed for time in this case, and so there needs to be a more forceful demonstration,” the Cardinal answered.  “So tell me what you can do, and perhaps the three of us can determine the best negotiating strategy.”

Marco haltingly related stories about things he had done using his powers, convinced that he remembered very few of the things he did other than make his hand glow. 

“You used air to smash a sorceress to death,” Colonna volunteered.

“I may have used my powers to help heal a pixie,” Marco remembered.

“The church does not recognize the existence of pixies,” Cardinal Savoy replied.

“You made the cherry trees grow,” Colonna pointed out.

“I can build a shield around myself,” Marco chimed in.

And so the conversation went, and the trio slowly developed a plan that they hoped would inspire cooperation with the Lady Iasco’s campaign to set Athens free.

They ate lunch at the monastery, then rode into town, on their way to the Grand Prince’s palace.  The city was a beautiful collection of buildings that rose upwards along the steep inclines of multiple hills, which all overlooked a large sheltered harbor.

The palace was set midway up the central hill, and it stood out from its neighbors with its garish decorations and tall towers.  The status of the Holy Father’s legate gained them immediate entrance to the palace grounds, and they passed through the stately estate on the way to their audience with the Grand Prince, which began less than an hour after their arrival.

Chapter 24 – Success in Nappanee

The Grand Prince presided from a throne that sat at least five feet above anyone else in his over-sized audience hall.  The room was garish with red and yellow and purple colors that clashed in a confused, whirling pattern of painted walls, hung bunting, decorative ornaments, and the uniforms and costumes worn by the people in the room.

All except the clothing of the guests, that is.  Savoy wore an all-white robe, Colonna wore black, and Marco wore non-descript clothing of an ordinary kind.  They walked along a carpet pathway across the large hall, to arrive at a spot just before the dais where the Grand Prince sat on his high throne.

As expected, the conversation was polite but fruitless, as the Grand Prince begged off with a half dozen excuses for why he could not send any army forces to join the liberation crusade being assembled at Malta.

At last, both the Count and the Cardinal gave Marco a significant look, after the Grand Prince protested that he needed to maintain his army at home to preserve order after the celebrations of his birthday.

“As a lasting reminder of the power of our Blessed Virtuous Sorcerer, who will be going on this journey to Malta and Athens, the Golden Hand wishes to perform a demonstration for you,” Cardinal Savoy told the Grand Prince.  The whole room buzzed with anticipation at the excitement of seeing magical powers used in the throne room.

Marco focused his attention, confident that he could achieve what he had told the others he could do with the powers that he was learning to control.  He looked around to find if a window was open, to provide the access he would need for what he was about to do.  He had seen the stables for the palace, and knew that he could find what he needed in that facility.

“I have learned how to use my powers for protection, your highness,” Marco began.  He held his hand up, and caused it to glow, raising a slight murmur from the curious onlookers.

The idea he was about to carry out had been Colonna’s.  The Count was even more puckish than Marco had come to realize during his few days of traveling with the man.  When he had proposed his concept, the Cardinal had initially looked aghast; but when Marco thought he could make it happen, Savoy had rubbed his chin thoughtfully and concluded that it might positively motivate the fastidious Grand Prince into the proper action.

And so now it was up to Marco to make it succeed.

“This,” he waved his hand in a cup-shape, “is a protective shield I am able to create,” he said as a sorcerer’s dome appeared around him and a large area near him.  Many of those in the crowd on the floor backed up, while several others moved forward to more closely observe.

“But it does not have to protect only me,” Marco told the Grand Prince and others.  He made the dome rise from the floor, so that it hovered above him for a second. 

“It can protect others as well, can’t it?” Colonna asked from nearby.

“It can,” Marco agreed, and he slowly moved the dome through the air – all eyes in the hall glued to its motion – while it hovered to the Grand Prince’s location, then slowly lowered down over him.

The room applauded politely.

He had thought about this effort when Colonna had asked, and had realized that there was an easy trick to use – he had somehow convinced himself that he could fool the dome into believing that he was moving, and then it had moved in anticipation of where it thought he planned to go.

“And what else can it do?” the Cardinal took his turn to ask.

“It can hold things in as well as hold things out,” Marco answered.  He made the dome rise once again, and noticed an expression of relief on the face of the Grand Prince as he was freed from the confinement.