Chapter 55: Risking Everything for Rome

The next morning.

Rossi, his face bruised and swollen, sat amidst the congregation in the church, watching Leo’s consecration ceremony. Unlike the other guests, pain throbbed through Rossi’s body, so much so that every time he nodded off, the ache in his face would jerk him awake. Beside him, Enrique was wide awake as well, struggling to suppress his laughter.

Had Enrique not rescued Rossi last night, Leo would have lost a trusted lieutenant.

“…We humbly come before You, beseeching You to consecrate this chosen one through Your Holy Spirit, that he may become a bishop in our church, inheriting the apostolic mission alongside bishops worldwide, to shepherd the flock.”

Anselmo stood at the altar; Leo knelt before him, facing the bishop.

In matters of theology, Anselmo was well-versed, even in such intricate rites.

“May Your Holy Spirit descend and pour into this chosen one, filling him with wisdom and strength, that he may faithfully fulfill his duties as bishop, proclaim Your word, and tend to Your flock.”

The prayer concluded. Anselmo removed the Gospel book, and from the hands of the deacon he took a bishop’s crown.

The pristine white coronet was edged with gold embroidery, as if the sanctity of heaven was adorned with the most lavish of earthly treasures.

When the crown was set upon his head, Leo raised his eyes. He accepted the staff and Gospel from Anselmo. From this moment forth, he was truly the Bishop of Pisa.

Leo turned to face the guests.

Those who had been dozing snapped to attention and began to applaud.

Staff in hand, Leo surveyed the gathering, and a surge of pride welled within him.

All of this had stemmed from a small opportunity.

Leo had seized it.

Now, he was the most powerful man in all of Tuscany. Rising as swiftly as a rocket, Leo could not help but feel a touch of exhilaration.

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

Leo’s voice echoed through the church, and the guests returned to themselves. After enduring the long and tedious consecration ceremony, they felt a collective sigh of relief.

At last, the most important moment had arrived.

“I still remember the duty upon my shoulders: to recruit enough soldiers to defend Rome! Count Richard of Capua, that ambitious schemer, threatens the Holy City, threatens the throne of Saint Peter! The Pope has promised that all who take part in this war will ascend to heaven!”

Anselmo stood at Leo’s side, his clenched fists revealing his resentment.

He knew: there was no such promise.

It was all Leo’s fabrication.

But did he dare expose it?

The guests were not fools.

The Church had used piety to manipulate others; perhaps decades ago, some still believed. But in recent years, turmoil within the Church had eroded its credibility, and something stronger was needed to attract followers.

For instance: money.

“I am not one to covet petty gains, nor is the Church a miserly secular ruler!”

“Any who follow me to defend the Church will receive generous rewards. This is the Pope’s promise, made before God Himself! The Church will grant warriors their due compensation!”

At this, the guests erupted.

What is a knight, after all?

In essence, a laborer.

In the barren wastes of medieval Europe, hoping to grow rich through farming was nearly impossible.

There was a family in France, knights for three generations, who managed to transform themselves from landlords to wealthy farmers.

Still, for most knights, income came from plunder. Yet robbery was unreliable, and wages—steady and assured—were a blessing for any knight.

“We are willing to follow you!” the Corsicans shouted first.

Then the soldiers of Pisa and the Lombard heavy infantry joined in.

They were all professional warriors, especially the militia of Pisa. Three years ago, they had marched with Giovanni to Sicily, and now to Capua seemed no less possible.

“We are willing as well!” Some young Tuscan knights, unable to resist the temptation, joined the chorus. Most were just entering their careers, eager for a chance.

But the older knights, like Alberto, did not cheer. They were cautious veterans, seeking stability.

This was all expected.

Leo was well prepared.

“All who wish to join me, gather at the gates of Lucca tomorrow morning. I will meet you there.”

With that, Leo gestured to his attendants and departed.

Ricardo, Leo’s secretary, walked at his side, notebook in hand, a booklet tucked under his arm, both made from Correzzola’s paper.

“Sir, recent invitations.”

“Speak.”

“Adriano, the head of the textile guild.”

Hearing such an invitation, Leo dismissed it outright. Everything available in Lucca existed in Pisa, with better shipping and more reliable loyalty.

“He’s a silk merchant,” Ricardo added. “It’s said his people have brought silk-making technology from Constantinople, and now production has begun… Sir?”

Before Ricardo could finish, Leo took the booklet and read it.

Afterward, Leo handed it back.

“Go and inform the magistrate, and have Adriano move to the Correzzola monastery.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that settled, Ricardo brought up the next matter.

Leo approached Rossi. He looked at Rossi’s disheveled state and could not help but find it amusing. True, sleeping with another man’s wife was reprehensible, and being caught was miserable, but if not for him, Leo and Matilda would not have happened.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Leo asked. “Don’t let yourself reach Capua still battered and bruised.”

“I’ll be fine,” Rossi declared, standing and pounding his chest with his right hand.

The pain that followed made him grimace and hop about like a clown, prompting Enrique to burst out laughing.

...

In the city of Rome.

The Lateran Palace was tense; groups of clergy hurried through its halls, voices murmuring in heated discussion. The College of Cardinals was assembled, their faces grim.

Soon, the cardinals entered the most concealed chamber of the Lateran.

Pope Alexander sat at the center, to his right Bishop Hildebrand, whose expression was sour with anger over recent events.

In fact, everyone knew.

The Lorraine army had been defeated in Tuscany. The papal envoy sent out had turned traitor.

Once all were seated, Hildebrand spoke.

“Gentlemen, the affairs of the Church have gone awry. The conservative cleric Leo has defied papal orders, abused the Inquisition, murdered a papal envoy, coerced a bishop into consecration, employed extrajudicial punishment, sold church offices, formed factions, violated celibacy, and even attacked the army of the Church’s protector, the Duke of Lorraine.”

One accusation after another, leaving the cardinals trembling.

Leo was merely a minor papal envoy; who would have guessed he could cause such upheaval?

All wondered:

Is he not afraid?

“There is one more matter,” Hildebrand continued, his tone as dark as a storm, revealing the second crisis.

“Count Richard of Capua has brought his Norman army to Altena. He is no more than three days’ march from Rome!”