QuestioningTheSchismatics"Do you have the copy of these priests' demands?" Delan asked, smoothly moving on. "It was not yet complete when we left for Mass. I can send someone for it now if you wish to have it at hand while we examine the priests," Lucien said. "I'd prefer to read it before we see them," said Delan dryly. "I'd rather speak to them in the full knowledge of their demands instead of guessing. Can we have a couple of copies brought?" "Certainly," Lucien said. He gave the appropriate orders to a servant and before too long the copies were delivered into Delan's hand. Delan took it and began to read aloud as they walked towards the place in the Nest where the priests were detained. "’We, the signatories to this letter do hereby proclaim ... that we resign our position in His Holiness’s Catholic Church here on Aquila, and that we will take a separate communion as one United Non-conformist Church of Aquila, until such a time as the pernicious corruption is cast out of the Papist faith.’" Delan paused. "Interesting," he said. "Corruption ... or belief. They seem undecided which has occasioned their rebellion.” "Perhaps it is a belief in the corruption of others," Lucien offered. "They seem to have that smugness that is common to most rebellions. A belief that they are superior in knowledge, virtue or ability to those in power." "’We demand equal rights of worship for all men and women of Aquila, we demand that all may partake of the holy sacrament as laid down by our Lord Jesus Christ that night with his disciples before his betrayal and crucifixion, a simple communion, free of the elaborate and corrupt vestments of the established Aquilan Church.’ Religious toleration," murmured Delan. "Leading to the most brutal wars in Earth's history. A delightful prospect.” "Interesting that a group of celibates are demanding equal rights for women. Not in a sexual sense, but interesting that they claim to speak for women as well." "’We demand for lay people the right to serve communion, one to the other as equals under God, and that the church is run by its lay members, and not by a hierarchy of false priests.’" Delan sighed. "If they wish the sacraments administered by the laity, I wonder how they define a true priest? But no matter." He read on. "’We demand that until these articles of faith are met, that no man should be bound to attend masses, prayers or other services of the Catholic Church on Aquila, and that any man, woman or child who desires to worship following a simple faith, will be welcomed by us. In the name of the Father, the Son, and The Holy Ghost, Amen.’ "In the name of Chaos and Confusion, more like," said Delan. "So we are to allow the credulous to imperil their immortal souls at the behest of fools who disrupt the funeral of one of the most respected men on Aquila? Strangely enough, I think not." Lucien knew that Delan had once been headed for the priesthood and indeed might have risen far in the Church had his brother Drostin not died. There was still something of the Churchman in the Regent, and Lucien sometimes marvelled privately at how well he balanced that with his worldly interests. "The Dragon's soul—and reputation—will withstand the insult," he said. "Still," said Delan, "it showed considerable disrespect." At this point, the Sergeant of the Guards approached. "If you please, my lords," he said, "the priests have received a visitor—one of the Sisters of Mercy." Delan's dark eyebrows rose. "Really," he said. "I had no idea the rot had spread so far." "She said she wished to offer them succour," said the Sergeant heavily. "How thoughtful," said Delan. "And then, I presume, she went on her way rejoicing." "Oh no, my lord!" said the Sergeant, relieved. "We put her to be watched in the sitting room..." He was opening the door as he spoke ... and it was clear that the only occupant of the room was Lord Giulian Anderon. He was sitting in an armchair, looking down at his laced hands with a meditative expression on his face, but he looked up as the door opened. "There you are, Father, Lord Tremontaine," he said. His eyes lit with interest when he saw the paper in Delan's hand. "Is that it? The pronouncement, I mean. May I see it?" "Certainly," said Delan, moving to hand it over. As it was half in his son's hand, he asked, "You wouldn't have happened to see a Sister of Mercy in here, would you, Jules?" Giulian's eyebrows rose, and he shook his head. "No, I've seen no such person." He glanced over at Lucien. "Renata looked in briefly, looking for a school friend of hers. I believe they were lunching together." He thought it best to admit to the young women's presence, in case they'd been seen by the guards. "That would probably be Jovanna Starr," Lucien said in a tone that mixed wryness with wariness. "Renata said she was meeting Miss Starr, as well as Doctor de Corven's daughter, for lunch." It occurred to him that the rather militant Miss Starr might have been snooping around. He would try and speak with her later, and would certainly have a word with his daughter. "Renata thought a school friend of hers might be in here?" said Delan, in faint surprise. He was watching his son closely. "And was she?" Giulian turned one hand palm up. "Well, she was here looking for Renata. Obviously." "And did they find each other? Here?" Lucien asked politely. He then turned to Delan and said, "Either way, I shall certainly talk to my daughter. And the omnipresent Miss Starr, at the first opportunity." Giulian nodded. "She came upon the two of us," he said, "and they left together." "Perhaps," suggested Delan, "you might have the opportunity now. Giulian and I can wait a few minutes. And the priests certainly can." "Certainly," Lucien said. He felt a cold annoyance come over him. Whatever Miss Starr was up to, and however Renata had become involved, they were not only making him look bad, but Renata might be exposed to danger. He would definitely have to speak with each of them. With a slight bow, he left the chamber to find his daughter and her friend. Left alone with his son, Delan waited a moment, long enough for Giulian to reflect, before he said musingly, "You know, Jules, when you become economical with the truth, I find myself wondering the degree of the hold this young woman apparently has on you." Fully aware of his own ambiguous use of pronouns, Giulian parried blandly, "Which young woman are we talking about?" Delan smiled faintly. "Sophistry, Jules? You know I have never vetoed any of your friends—you're sensible enough to choose for yourself, and can distinguish a fawning toady from an honest man. But be wary of that pretty face, Jules. I suspect she is ruthless to an extent that we poor, ambivalent nobles would hardly be allowed to get away with." Giulian shook his head. His expression was meditative. "It isn't her face," he said, "that intrigues me. It's the mind behind it." Delan gave a faint sigh. "That worries me more," he said frankly. "Already you're attempting concealment where she's concerned. What next? If she asks you what happens in the meeting that lies ahead, would you tell her?" "If you consider it to be confidential, no, I wouldn't," answered Giulian, "any more than you'd tell Uncle Josh." Delan regarded his son through slightly narrowed eyes. The extent of his professional relationship with his reprobate brother-in-law was hardly common knowledge—not even among his own family where Josh Salter was spoken of with sighs and head-shakings. "Quite," said the owner of Aquila's premier yellow press production, Aquila Awake! Just then Lucien returned. "Ah, here is Lord Tremontaine. Any luck, Lucien?" "My Lord, I am informed that both my daughter and Miss Starr indeed left several minutes ago, to meet a mutual friend for lunch. I will speak to Renata upon her return. As for Miss Starr..." He left it an open question. "Well," said Delan, "perhaps we should ask my son to speak with her." He regarded Giulian with slightly lifted eyebrows. "I suppose that depends on what you want to find out," Giulian replied, returning his father's look with a speculative one of his own. Lucien was intrigued by the turn the conversation had taken, but kept that curiosity firmly to himself. "I assume you wish to continue on and talk with the priests in any event," he said. "If Miss Starr spoke with them it is more likely that they tried to influence her than vice versa. So unless we discover that she aided their escape..." he made a gesture to minimize the likelihood of that, "I believe we may proceed at this time." "Certainly," said Delan. "Let's join them at once." The door to the room where the two leading priests were being held was opened and Delan, Lucien and Giulian ushered in. Delan took it all in with one of his swift, searching glances. "Gentlemen," he said. "There's no need to stand." Adam shook his head, and rose, a little stiffly, at the arrival of Lucien and Giulian. His eyes briefly flickered to Nathaniel, and then back to their visitors, visibly holding one of the chairs for support. Nathaniel followed, made stiff by more than time. Still, he straightened to his full height and met the Regent's eye ... then bowed his head. "Lord." "Reverend Parker," said Delan pleasantly. "Reverend Knott, I believe? Please, take a seat, both of you." He did so himself, with a nod to Tremontaine and his son to join him. Lucien took the appropriate seat near the Regent. Following Delan's lead, Giulian took a seat to one side of his father, where he could easily see the two priests. The regard of the dark eyes in his thin face was interested rather than hostile. "How do you find your quarters here?" Delan inquired. Adam Knott hesitated a moment before sitting down, waiting for both Delan and Giulian to do so before he stiffly took the chair he was clutching like a life preserver. He looked to Nathaniel and then back to Delan. "More hospitable than expected," he said, and then quieted himself, letting his elder continue and take the lead in the conversation for the moment. Nathanial settled into his seat last, studying the Regent, Tremontaine ... then the curious face of Giulian. He gave them a tepid smile. "I found them quite secure. More than adequate." Lucien studied the renegade priest in turn, wondering what in that sere, weathered face could offer him answers to the many questions streaming through his mind. Why did they disturb the funeral of the Dragon, a man nearly universally respected throughout Aquila, and one whose legalistic mind had kept him from ever being a mindless spokesman for the Church—or anything, for that matter? What had they hoped to achieve with their curious document, and the even more curious method of bringing it to the public's attention? How large was their following? Indeed, did they have one, or were they but isolated renegades? Were they hoping to reform the Church—or destroy it? Was there a political agenda? What had they discussed with Jovanna Starr? And—and this he knew neither of the men before him could answer—was Renata becoming involved in something that could damage or endanger her? He kept all his questions to himself for now, as the Regent had the lead, to use as he would. In fact, Delan's first question was much as Lucien's would have been. "Why then? Did you have something against the late Lord Chief Justice?" "No," said Nathanial evenly, "the Late Lord Justice was admirable in his duties. He was a fair man, and a just one. He cared for justice as much as we care for our cause... But we have no bench to preach from. So we choose our moments carefully. Our actions had little to do with the Late Lord Acciaio." Adam nodded in agreement. "We mourn the loss of the Dragon," he said simply. "We did not await his death in order to spread the truth.” "That will be little consolation to his family and friends," Lucien said. Lucien's words seemed to affect Adam, and he spoke immediately, rather than ceding the right to his senior and superior. His eyes met Lucien's. "Surely you do not blame us for shining a bright light on the darkness enveloping this city, this land. Though the rats scurry when the light is shown, we did not place those rats there, and they would be there all the same," Adam responded. "The funeral was a chance for those who loved and respected the Dragon to say an appropriate goodbye, and for the rest of Aquila to comfort them and honor him. When I say this I am neither attacking nor defending your purposes, only calling into question your methods and timing." He paused. "The rituals of the Church, especially those that deal with death, offer great comfort to families. Your actions marred that for his survivors—not merely a House, but people. People whose grief has now been denigrated and mocked, whether or not that was your intention." "But they are false rituals," said Nathanial gently. "And they give false hope for the state of souls upon Aquila's soil. They are gilded in gold and lies, and they endanger all who are caught within their grasp. Our timing may be brought into question, but if it reaches more people, then I consider it worth it." Delan's dark eyebrows lifted briefly. "Are you defining the members of the Dragon's immediate family as the rats who scuttle, or the entirety of the congregation?" he asked. Adam tried not to wince but after a moment he raised his chin and spoke. "I speak of those who have strangled the true faith, and have larded the purity of the souls of Aquila with trappings of gold, freighting those souls with the threat of damnation below." "Even while they are in the process of mourning their dead?" asked Delan. "Yours is a very harsh creed, priest." He answered Adam, but he was looking at Nathaniel. "What did Saint Paul say was the greatest virtue, gentlemen?" "Charity," replied Nathanial easily. "Something that this church is lacking, if you have looked deep within it. The men who lead Aquila's faithful now hold not even the dimmest candle to the Saints." "And do you claim that virtue, priest?" asked Delan softly. "I try, but there are other virtues as well, my lord. I cannot stand idle by corruption of the people, and call myself innocent of the crimes simply because I did nothing directly." Delan glanced at Lucien and then at Giulian, to see if they had anything further to ask. "What are your intentions now?" Lucien asked. "You have posted your ... opposition to the Church as it exists. How do you propose to bring about these changes you feel are so urgently needed?" "The Church feeds upon souls." Nathanial's hands opened, like a book. "I intend to show these souls the light, a better path than the gilded lane to damnation. Once the Church has nothing to feed upon..." He shut his hands. "It will no longer have power enough to stand on its own." Adam nodded in agreement, caging his fingers fingertip to fingertip. "Father Nathaniel speaks the truth," Adam said. He looked thoughtful and then quoted, adapting text for purpose. "When the serpent has none to feed upon, it shall shrivel upon itself and wither away under the light of the Lord." Adam closed his hands in turn. "So you are taking it on faith, as it were," said Giulian, eyebrows canted, "that if you can just get your message out to enough people, the rest will happen of itself? Or providentially, if you prefer." "It is how men much greater than I have done such deeds." Nathanial bowed his head and murmured something under his breath, quick and gentle, like a prayer. "It is through the people I would wish to save the people, not through the draw of golden cathedrals and sparkling windows." "And so you have no plans beyond allowing your word to spread?" Lucien asked. "No further demonstrations and disruptions?" "His Lordship holds us," Adam said quietly. "We are imprisoned here, even if the truth shall not be." "Indeed," said Delan cheerfully. "And it will fall to me, and to the Regency Council, to decide whether your crimes are secular—in attempting to cause an affray ... or ecclesiastical—in terms of the articles you pinned to the cathedral door—which would certainly be for the church to decide." Nathanial nodded, neither bemused nor threatened. Indeed, as he looked upon the Regent, there seemed to be almost another emotion there. "Our guilt, in fact, is for only one to decide, and I believe that He might be on the side of the righteous. I think you will find, my lord, that the Truth is much harder to silence than you or your council believe." "Has it ever occurred to you," Lucien asked, "that this is not merely a matter of cynical manipulation of the masses? That there are many who believe in the Church as it is constituted now, as fervently as you believe in your ... truth?" "What I would be interested in knowing," Giulian put in, "is whether your ideas," he gestured with the roll of paper he held, "were inspired, shall we say, directly, or whether you read them somewhere and decided you agreed with them. Or heard them from someone," he added as an afterthought. Adam snorted, realizing what the young whelp was trying to discover, but he stifled his response, letting his senior answer. Nathanial's smile was wan. "You wish for me to name my compatriots? No ... I will not kiss their cheeks, gentlemen. I will say this much: the decision we came to—yes, there are more than one—was not lightly taken, or taken in a fit of pique. Our souls were searched, and this is the answer we found. The True men still within who pray to the Lord are surrounded by serpents. Had you something more to ask?" Giulian shook his head. "Actually, I'm not asking you to betray anyone," he said. "It's just that, from a historical point of view, I'm wondering if what we have here is home-grown Aquilan Protestantism, or whether it was seeded from somewhere else." Delan smiled faintly, and leaned back slightly in his seat. Nathanial nodded, giving his answer a moment's thought. "Some of our actions were inspired by days of old. But when my brothers and I took to the robes, we were sincere in our adoration of God, and Aquila's ways of honoring Him. The years have worn hard on that faith, though. So the answer is yes, and no. We are not students of Protestantism, but we know of it. Our fervor, though, is Aquilan born." "So what, then, is your tangible goal?" Lucien asked. "We have read your ... demands. Do you wish the Church itself to institute them, or do you wish yourselves or someone of like mind to take over the Church? Or ... do you see a permanent schism? Two Churches on Aquila?" Adam looked thoughtful for a moment, looking at his elder before looking back at Giulian and Lucien and responding first. "We do not wish Aquila to burn in war like those on old Earth," he said, looking between the father and the son. "But can you not see that the church must change, or be replaced? The foulness and perdition of it must be swept away, from within if possible, from without if need be." "The people will make their choice," said Nathanial softly. "They need not damn their souls through a corrupt church." "You don't look for the Papal Legate to make the necessary changes?" Giulian asked mildly. Delan was wearing an expression of polite interest as he waited for the response to this. Nathanial shook his head. "They are here to play a part in the political machinations of state, and smooth over the transgressions of a fallen Cardinal. They will know, the second they step into our Church, that if they open their eyes too much, they will see more than they can cope with. No... They will do their work, and they will leave." "That seems rather a hasty judgment of a man you haven't even met yet," said Giulian. "Then I shall pray that they prove me wrong," replied Nathanial, "but I have seen how the inner circles function. I doubt they will want to stay as long as a full cleansing will require." "You say you have no faith in the institutions of our society, neither Church nor government," Lucien said. "You also say you are not looking to start religious wars such as were fought for so long on Earth. And yet, Earth's history can be most instructive in such matters. For one can start with the highest of ideals, yet in destroying or abandoning the structures to which most people look ... you cannot control the outcome. For example, I recall a Revolution on Earth, during their eighteenth century, in which a king was executed, and a Republic of Virtue proclaimed—one with the motto of 'Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.' Admirable ideals, and those who proclaimed them most sincere... It ended in a torrent of blood. Would you risk doing so to Aquila?" Delan was still listening with polite interest, without speaking. "I will not risk the souls of Aquila by doing nothing." Nathanial bowed his head. "I am a peaceful man. I did not fight back when I was kicked and hit. But I am not a man of cowardice or inaction. I will not let corruption overtake us without standing up to it." Adam nodded. "All that is needed, sirs," he looked at their inquisitors, "for evil to prevail ... is for good men to do nothing. We and those with us will not commit that sin of omission," he added. "Not when we can save the good people of Aquila from perdition." "A most worthy aim," said Delan dryly. He glanced at his companions—Lucien and Giulian. "Well, if you gentlemen have no further questions, I think perhaps we should leave these good men to the contemplation of the Infinite, don't you?" Giulian glanced over at Lucien, deferring to the older man. The renegade priests had not really answered most of his questions, but Lucien felt that perhaps that in itself was something of an answer. Whatever they needed to know, they would receive nothing direct here, but would have to examine their utterances and tease what they could from them. He shook his head. "I have nothing more at this time." Giulian gave the priests one more thoughtful glance, then also shook his head. "Nor I." Adam took to studying the young man. Giulian's presence was the unknown factor in this visit from the powers that be. He had not expected them to bring the boy with them. Perhaps they would bring him again. And perhaps he and his senior could maneuver that to his advantage. He gave a nod of the head to Giulian and awaited the denouement of the encounter. Delan rose to his feet. At this, Giulian also lifted himself from his chair with a thrust of his arms and reached for his crutches. "Then thank you for your time, gentlemen. I shall bid you a good day." Delan moved towards the door, trusting his companions to follow him. Lucien did so without looking at the priests again. As Giulian caught up with them, but before they could pass out of earshot of the priests, he asked Delan conversationally, "Will they be brought up on civil charges, then, or do you intend to hand them over to the Legate?" Delan turned and smiled faintly at his son, then shook his head and said no more until they had left the room. Then he led them to the same study where they had met before they had seen the priests. "What would you suggest?" he asked his son, as soon as they were all settled in armchairs. "Seriously? Civil charges, by all means," replied Giulian. "Disturbing the peace, incitement to riot, property damage—I'm sure they left some holes in the Cathedral door. Littering. Making an ecclesiastical case of it will indicate that we take their beliefs as a serious threat, and will make martyrs of them as well." He looked thoughtful. "You know, it's interesting that this should come up now. On old Earth, if I recall correctly, the Protestant Reformation roughly coincided with a significant technological advance—the invention of printing." "That is an interesting and valid point," Lucien said. "Which can lead to many questions as to the best way to deal with that aspect of the matter. As for how to deal with them in the immediate present ... I agree with Giulian. To hand them over to the Legate, or involve the Church beyond the minimum required, will give their stance as religious reformers that much more standing among the credulous. Charging them in civil court—disturbing the peace, or inciting a riot, perhaps—will minimize the possibilities for grandeur." "I agree," said Delan. "I trust the Council will feel the same way. Lucien, who do you think is likely to stand out for involving the Legate? Lagoran may—which would bring in Rostay on our side. Bahlmis should be with us—Rosalor is a sensible woman. Carlysle—unknown, although if the Haldane has had the training of the boy, he'll be strong on public order. Acciaio is the sticking point. If he demands the legate become involved, then he'll have powerful moral authority at his back. It was his father's funeral that was made a mockery, after all." He steepled his hands, considering. "I think a visit to the Palazzo before the meeting might be in order. Or possibly the Law Courts—he may be there today. A discreet visit... Would you agree?" "I do agree," Lucien said. "And may I suggest ... a slightly indirect approach? From what I have observed, Lord Acciaio values the opinion and counsel of his wife." Delan smiled faintly. "You know her better than I, my lord. Might I leave that to you?" He looked at his son. "And Giulian—what terms are you on with the younger Acciaios?" "The twins?" Giulian shrugged. "They're sufficiently younger than I am that we haven't socialized much in the past. We're just now reaching the age where that seems less important. I've seen them around the University. Romeo Acciaio spends a good deal of his time in the salle, I believe. I remember seeing some of Aurora's etchings in one of the class exhibitions—she's quite talented. As for the younger ones ... well, there's even more of an age gap." "I wasn't thinking of the younger ones," said Delan. "The twins, though, and Acciaio's daughter—the one that's just left the Convent. Romeo spends all his time in the salle, you say?” "Oh, not all of it," Giulian demurred. "He attends some classes." “I wonder if his predilections accord with his father's in his youth—young Romeo was sporting an almost militaristic haircut at the funeral ... and that would, I imagine, set the cat amongst the pigeons. So ... you probably don't know them well enough to detect any straws blowing in the wind there." He shrugged. "Let's hope Lady Acciaio is in the mood for directness, and not to play off her tricks on you, my lord." "I believe she is just irate enough with me to be quite straightforward," Lucien said dryly. "I shall send word that I wish to see her, and in the meantime, I shall try and have a word with my daughter and perhaps her new friends." Delan's lips twitched. "I do not envy you the rest of your morning, my lord. I'm profoundly grateful that my two girls are a little too young for such escapades." He rose to his feet. "Until the Council meeting this afternoon, then. Jules, would you like a lift? Or will you take your own carriage?" It was an invitation, as Giulian knew, for the two of them to talk but—characteristically—delivered in a manner that put no pressure on the Anderon heir. "Assuming you're headed home, having my carriage brought here seems needlessly roundabout," Giulian answered casually. "Then I shall see you both this afternoon," Lucien said. Just then his secretary came in and said something to him in a bare undertone. Lucien nodded, turned to Giulian and Delan and said, "It seems one of my staff has seen Renata and her friends. I believe it might be wise to ... intercept them now, before I visit Lady Acciaio." "Good luck," said Delan, with only the faintest trace of irony. |
