Cardinal Corleone holds his hands up in what he hopes is a humble-looking gesture,
"Please, Eminences... Excellencies... you must refrain from addressing me as 'Your Holiness'. Whilst I am touched that you address me with such a hallow'd title, I am not the Pope."
Not yet, at least, Lucianno, he mentally corrects himself.
He is brought back into the present when a transcript of Paul von Russdorf's statement made in the Imperial Diet is thrust into his hands:
Gentlemen,
I for one would like to help the noble Albert von Habsburg..under certain conditions..The empire should withdraw from Bohemia as soon as possible..if the Pope is interested in promoting the Holy faith, fine...but let the Papal State send it´s own men and money there, don´t bother the Empire..I see no reason to save his skin in this..do you?
Lord Georg, in my opinion there is no need to raise funds..simply turn the forces currently in Bohemia towards Rome and free Albert!..If he is in Rome..and cut the bonds between Pope and emperor once and for all !!
"
WHAT??" Corleone screams aloud, briefly shattering the aura of majesty and sheer beauty that the frescos and gilded columns that decorate the chamber's interior lend the papal court.
The Cardinal attempts to regain his composure with a shaky grin,
"
Bishop Brauche," he says icily, fixing the Livonian bishop with a witheringly polite gaze, "perhaps you would be so good as to explain to us what a member of Kirsten Wasa's diplomatic staff is doing when he SUGGESTS TO THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE
A MILITARY OFFENSIVE AGAINST OUR HOLY MOTHER CHURCH!!" Corleone's voice rises to an accusatory crescendo, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. Without turning to look at him, Cardinal Corleone thrusts the offending document painfully hard into the chest of the unsuspecting Father Angelo, to be taken to the Livonian bishop.
Angelo does not wait to be told twice.
Still breathing heavily and obviously unsettled by his own rage, Corleone tries to control himself. He turns to
Cardinal Dietmar,
"I... that is to say, His Holiness does not
deal with anybody, brother Cardinal." Corleone's hands clench and unclench reflexively by his sides.
"To not trust the Papacy is not to trust the Church and not to trust the Church is not to trust the Will of God himself...
WOULDN'T YOU SAY, BISHOP BRAUCHE?" The Cardinal rounds the arguement on the flatulent Livonian churchman.
At this point, Cardinal Bernardi, one of Corleone's peers, approaches him and mutters something in his ear.
"Ah yes," Corleone nods, a degree of composure easing back into his demeanour as Bernardi takes his leave.
Corleone seeks out the eyes of both
Cardinal Bouchier and the
King of France,
"Yes, Your Eminence... Your Majesty, the Holy See appreciates your maintaining the cease-fire in... your part of the world until the conclave is complete. My thanks on hehalf of His Holiness." He inclines his head.
At this point, the many cardinals that have been called to attend the conclave begin filling in.
"Welcome, welcome, Your Eminences," says Corleone, watching each man come through the door, taking a mental note of the name of each churchman to arrive with the air of a farmer counting his sheep.
Corleone nods to
Cardinal Bodeker, "Thankyou, Your Eminence; yes, we give our prayers for the Cardinal Archbishop of Prague in these trying times..."
More Cardinals file through the door as Cardinal Corleone gathers up the letter from
Pierre Vandamme.
Holding the rolled up parchment aloft to gather
the Congregation's attention, Corleone announces,
"Thankyou all for coming, my brothers. Ahem, if I could have your attention, all those who will be attending the conclave; please remember: it will begin tonight at midnight."
And with that, he turns and leaves the chamber.
This really is a lot easier than it looks, he thinks.
