Chapter 20: Squeezing Out a Little More Money

"The finger bone of Saint Gelasius I—"
Honorius unconsciously placed his hand behind him on the counter, steadying himself.
To a Catholic cleric, a holy relic carries a sanctity comparable to ancestral tablets in Chinese ancestral halls. If a church possesses a relic, it proclaims itself a sacred place.
Leo had offered such a precious bargaining chip; Honorius could scarcely resist.
Yet he knew the price would not be small.
"What do you want?" Honorius' voice was firm.
Leo understood perfectly.
If he didn't seize the opportunity now, there might never be another.
"Three thousand marks of silver, or there's nothing to discuss." Leo raised three fingers.
Three thousand marks of silver made Honorius gasp.
In early 20th-century Germany, three thousand marks might not buy even a handful of breadcrumbs. But in the Middle Ages, a mark was a unit of weight—about 250 grams.
Leo’s asking price thus amounted to seven hundred and fifty kilograms of silver.
Such a staggering sum nearly sent Honorius' eyebrows flying.
"You're mad—three thousand marks of silver could equip over two hundred knights! Rather than this, I might as well gather two hundred knights and rob you. This is extortion..."
"Do you not think faith is worth such a price?"
Leo’s tone sank, and the frantic Honorius calmed at once.
His harsh words had only aimed to haggle. He drew a deep breath and shook his head.
"I certainly can't accept your price. One thousand marks of silver."
As soon as Honorius named his price, Leo returned the small box to Carlo’s hands, wearing a look of regret.
"Your sincerity is simply unfit for business."
"One thousand five hundred marks!" Honorius suddenly cried, "One thousand five hundred marks—that's already a great deal, what more could you want!"
"Why, to build the Correzzola Abbey, of course."
Leo took out the box and said, "If not for raising funds to construct the Correzzola Abbey, I would never part with this relic. Once your parishioners learn of it, how many will flock to venerate? The donations alone will cover your costs."
"But it will take time..."
"Two thousand three hundred marks, and it’s yours." Leo’s tone was final.
"Deal!"
Leo was taken aback—Honorius actually agreed.
The former pope now looked as though he could kill Leo; his brow furrowed, veins bulging on his hand, lips trembling, as though the decision had drained him completely.
Two thousand three hundred marks—five hundred seventy-five kilograms of silver—for a mere finger bone of a saint.
"Done."
The moment Leo spoke, Honorius lunged to snatch the relic from his hand.
But Leo was quick, withdrawing it at once and eyeing Honorius warily.
"Money first, then goods."
With that, Leo departed the church with his attendants.
On the road, Carlo hurried to his side, anxiety spilling from his face.
"Master, you must be confused! How can you sell such a relic? This sacred object should remain in our abbey for the faithful!"
Carlo trailed Leo, incessantly urging him.
But Leo ignored him completely. What nonsense was devotion?
How many divisions does the Lord command?

If Leo kept the relic, he might gain a measure of piety. But exchanging it for real money was far more important to him.
"Enough, Carlo."
Leo cut him off, gripping his shoulder.
"Help me procure supplies—grain, marble, whatever you can."
Using this excuse, Leo sent Carlo off.
Even as Carlo left, his eyes still held confusion. He truly couldn’t fathom why Leo would sell the relic.
Only Leo himself understood what he needed.
When spring came, the Duchy of Lorraine’s army would march south.
The bearded Godfrey might well coerce Matilda to fulfill her betrothal. If that happened, Leo could no longer rely on Matilda’s influence.
Thus, he had to protect Matilda.
Not only for their friendship, but for his own political future.
At such a time, a relic that promised only slow returns was useless; he needed to convert assets quickly into usable resources.
He needed to assemble a force capable of defending Matilda, and soon.
"Corrado," Leo suddenly turned to Corrado.
Corrado, hearing his name, came to Leo’s side.
"Go find someone who knows where the Jewish quarter is in this city."
Jews?
The word conjured a flurry of labels in Corrado’s mind—moneylenders, thieves, and the like. Yet, under the Church’s protection, Jews still enjoyed some peace.
Yes, the Church protected the Jews.
Especially Pope Alexander, whose guardianship of Jews was not merely dutiful, but almost filial. He extended his shield even to Jews far off in France.
You might call him their father—or their son.
Fortunately, Leo felt no kinship with Jews, so he decided to exploit them.
After returning to Matilda with Enrico, Leo immediately turned to her with a request.
"Your Grace, may I have some soldiers?"
Leo asked outright for soldiers, but Matilda was not offended; instead, she grew concerned.
"Have you clashed with the Bishop of Parma?"
"No," Leo shook his head, "Honorius says he cannot pay the whole sum now, so he sent me to the Jewish merchants to borrow money."
At the mention of borrowing from the Jews, Matilda’s expression darkened.
"You’re sure you want to entangle yourself with those servants of the devil?"
Seeing Matilda’s face, Alberto kept signaling with his eyes, urging Leo to retract his words. The other knights looked troubled, unable to believe this cleric would go seeking loans.
But Leo shrugged, unconcerned.
"If I’m only borrowing money, I won’t borrow soldiers."
He extended his hand, "So, are you willing to lend your knights to me for a while?"
Matilda gazed into Leo’s eyes, as if searching for truth. After a moment’s deliberation, she took the sword from Alberto and handed it to Leo.
"Go quickly and return soon."
That was all she said, and Leo accepted the sword.
Alberto glanced back. The knights from Tuscany gathered around Leo.
"Everyone, armor up. We’re about to do something big."
At first, the knights were puzzled.
But soon, they understood Leo’s intent and donned their armor.

Once fully armed, Corrado returned with news.
"Master, there is indeed a Jewish quarter in this city—on the west side, in the commoners’ district, fenced off from the rest."
"Good."
Leo nodded in satisfaction, then looked at the knights behind him.
They and their attendants waited for his command. Their hatred for the Jews was deep; but for the Church’s restraint, they’d have acted against these heretics long ago.
Now, with a papal envoy backing them, their resolve—and their fists—were firmer than ever.
"Knights, follow me!"
Leo waved grandly, and more than fifty knights with their attendants marched toward the Jewish quarter.
When they arrived, the Jews emerged from their homes.
Their wary eyes fixed on the knights. Some men brandished clubs, ready to defend their homes, but their sticks looked laughable beside the knights’ swords.
Such a force of armed knights naturally caused a stir among the Jews.
The rabbi, leader of the Jewish community, came out to meet them.
The old man leaned on his cane, his beard long and white. Seeing Leo, he relaxed at once.
A man from the Church.
The Jews trusted the Church would not harm them, so they eased a little.
"Sir cleric, allow me to introduce myself. I am David, a law-abiding citizen, as are all here. May I ask what brings you?"
Leo lifted his chin, "The Bishop of Parma bought goods from me, but said payment should come from you."
Extortion again?
David’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
As a marginalized group, extortion was routine.
Faced with these knights, David could only bow his head.
"May I ask the total sum?" David remained bent, his face ingratiating.
"Two thousand marks of silver, as Honorius promised—not a penny less!"
At the number, David’s eyes widened.
He raised his trembling hand, displaying his shock.
"Master, that’s far too much..."
"Crack!"
Before anyone could react, Leo raised his whip and struck David across the face. Blood welled on the old man’s cheek. The gathered citizens and Jews were stunned.
"You beasts! When you collect usury, you never complain about the sum!"
With that, Leo raised his whip again.
David, terrified, retreated two steps and nodded frantically, pecking like a chick, yet still protested,
"We—we are just ordinary businessmen..."
Leo ignored him, turning to the citizens of Parma.
The locals, seeing this, not only failed to protest, but were visibly excited, as if witnessing a grand spectacle.
Seeing their reactions, Leo was reassured.
Indeed, there were no bleeding hearts in the Middle Ages.
"Knights, follow me inside—search these heretics’ homes!"