Chapter 69: Is the Enemy of My Enemy a Friend?

“This jackal is demanding more again!”

“He’s even more detestable than the Normans.”

“How can this be allowed?”

In the great hall of Lateran, the cardinals, draped in crimson capes, had once again gathered. Pope Alexander sat upon the Holy See, feeling thoroughly unsettled by recent events.

His nephew, Anselmo, had retreated from public life after being insulted during his tenure as Bishop of Lucca. Alexander could not comprehend this. It was merely a trivial matter, yet his nephew had failed to handle it and chose to withdraw because of it. So young, not even thirty, and so despondent—Alexander simply could not understand.

Now, threats from all directions pressed upon him, leaving him breathless.

“This letter is clearly not in Peter Damian’s handwriting. He must have been coerced. Perhaps the entire letter is a forgery by Leo!”

A cardinal stood up, brandishing the letter in his hand.

“Such an important letter, and it’s not even written on parchment, but on Andalusian paper from infidels. Is this not a slight against the Holy See? Has our Roman Curia fallen so far as to rely on the goods of heathens?”

“Benizzo, calm yourself.”

Pope Alexander tapped his staff on the floor, hoping to quiet the cardinal named Benizzo.

But Benizzo seemed not to hear him, persisting in his tirade.

“We should deal with such men directly, as we did with Archbishop Vito of Milan. However powerful he is, can he surpass Vito? We could even kill him...”

“We are cardinals, not murderers,”

Rudolf, seated in a corner, raised his head to meet Benizzo’s gaze.

Benizzo turned, halting his gestures, regarding Rudolf with surprise and a hint of mockery.

“Yes, we are not murderers. Rudolf, we all uphold the Cluniac principles as cardinals, unlike certain others who covet secular power—”

“Enough, Benizzo.”

At Hildebrand’s word, Benizzo fell silent.

The hall lapsed into quiet. Rudolf folded his arms, looking at Hildebrand with disdain.

Benizzo was Hildebrand’s man.

This fellow listened only to Hildebrand, ignoring even the pope’s commands. The real power within the Curia was plain for all to see: Hildebrand held the reins.

“In truth, perhaps we should simply grant these lands to him.”

Another cardinal stood. Rudolf turned to the swarthy cardinal—Ugo.

“In Sardinia, we gain nothing, yet must shelter the islanders. Gaeta matters even less; it belongs to our enemies.”

“And more importantly, even if he conquers these places, can he hold them?”

“In this world, there are many conquerors and invaders, but most merely invade, fail to defend their territories, and slink away in defeat. Leo is no different—he is but a brigand.”

Brigand.

At this word, the cardinals burst into laughter.

Indeed, he is a brigand.

“If he truly manages to consolidate those regions, so much the better. We can strip him of his office, exile him to some remote isle, and then claim the fruits of his victories for ourselves. Isn’t that ideal?”

Ugo’s proposal won enthusiastic applause from the assembled cardinals.

They could not have agreed more. To them, Leo’s power was a gift from the Curia. Once deprived of his position by the Church, he would fall to ruin.

“What do you think?”

Hildebrand leaned close to Pope Alexander, seeking his opinion.

Alexander closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head.

This meant Hildebrand should handle it as he pleased. Alexander himself wished to meddle no further.

“I understand,” said Hildebrand.

He rose, facing the cardinals, and raised his hands to begin his speech.

“Sinner Leo is insatiably greedy.”

“He hungers for profit, so we shall tempt him with small gains, leading him to the abyss. With such greed, he will inevitably consign himself to perdition. God will judge him for us, while our task is to remain devout and pure.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

Hildebrand traced the sign of the cross over his chest. The cardinals followed suit, all marking the cross on their chests.

A rare moment of unity among these scheming prelates.

When the prayer ended, attention returned to Hildebrand.

“First, the Bishop of Pisa will be elevated to metropolitan, with Corsica incorporated into the Diocese of Pisa; the Diocese of Sardinia will be administered by the Metropolitan of Pisa. Second, Gaeta shall be granted as a private fief to Leo.”

“In this way, we can split his power. He will be unable to attend to all fronts, and will ultimately perish.”

With these words, Hildebrand sat down.

Applause thundered through the Lateran hall, echoing long after the meeting adjourned.

When it ended, Rudolf and Ugo walked together.

“Rudolf, you really suffered in that meeting. Benizzo’s words are harsh indeed.”

Ugo’s voice was somewhat sharp, but Rudolf was already used to it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rudolf said. “After all, I’m German. You Italians don’t care much for me.”

“All who are baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Ugo spoke these words, looking at Rudolf with deep meaning.

Rudolf paused, gazing back.

“So why did you make that proposal in the meeting? I think the Bishop of Pisa is no ordinary man—he may well...”

Before Rudolf could finish, Ugo lifted his hand and greeted a passing cardinal.

The interruption broke Rudolf’s train of thought.

When the cardinal had moved on, Ugo cocked his mouth and glanced at the sky.

“I don’t care about the Bishop of Pisa,”

Ugo said. “Hildebrand doesn’t play by the rules, but I do. I am a man who follows the rules. So, if his enemies benefit, I am pleased.”

A man of rules.

Rudolf shook his head.

A wry, helpless smile flickered across his face, quickly suppressed.

“When it comes to breaking the rules, I think perhaps the Bishop of Pisa is even more adept,” Rudolf resumed walking. “Just look at what he’s done.”

“A prudent man sees danger and hides. The Bishop of Pisa is far from me; Hildebrand is right at my doorstep.”

At the street corner, Ugo stopped.

Rudolf gazed at him calmly.

“I’ll go right; your house is to the left, isn’t it?” Ugo said.

“It is.” Rudolf nodded.

Ugo extended his hand. Rudolf regarded it, hesitated for a moment, then clasped it briefly.

“Then let us say goodbye for now. If you have time, choose an afternoon to visit me—I would be delighted to discuss the Scriptures with you.”

“Very well.”

With that, Rudolf turned left at the corner.

Ugo watched his silhouette vanish into the alley, then departed to the right.