“We would need more witnesses,” Capocci pointed out.
Colonna shook his head. “It is all very unexpected and very unusual,” he said. “There may be precedence. We don’t know yet. The College of Cardinals is divided on this matter.”
“And will be for some time,” Capocci interjected.
“I was chosen,” Rodrigo mused, “though I was not even a candidate.”
“Yes,” Colonna said.
Rodrigo smiled. “I find that very reassuring. Clearly this is the will of God.”
Again both men seemed taken aback by Rodrigo’s calm acceptance, but they recovered quickly. “That is an excellent perspective, Your Holiness,” Colonna said.
Capocci nodded in agreement, a satisfied grin on his face. “As your friends,” he said, “which both of us are, unreservedly, we wanted to remind you that the Papacy is a sacred office. But it is a political appointment as well. If there are no complications, and you are, in fact, anointed as the head of the Church, there will be many people working diligently to influence you—even manipulate you. Everyone will tell you that they have only your best interests at heart, or the best interests of the Church.”
“We want you to know,” said Colonna earnestly, “that they are all full of crap. Your Holiness.”
Rodrigo revealed surprise, then polite amusement. “I see,” he said. “So I should not listen to them? I should listen only to the two of you, is that right?”
“No, no,” they both replied quickly, and Capocci went on: “We have promised ourselves not to try to guide. If you ever want to ask either of us for advice, we are here, but we will never impose our will on you, overtly or covertly. We merely beg you to hold others at a similar distance.”
Rodrigo considered this. “Is there anyone in particular whose influence I should suspect?” he asked.
A pause. “Is Your Holiness asking for our advice?” Colonna said carefully.
“Yes,” Rodrigo said plainly.
“I seek only to offer guidance,” Colonna said.
“Of course,” Rodrigo said.
Capocci looked down at his hands, as if to extricate himself from this conversation.
“You must be very wary of Cardinal Sinibaldo Fieschi,” Colonna said.
After sunset, Orsini’s carriage finally managed to cross the bridge. Orsini had had second thoughts, which then twisted into third, fourth, and fifth thoughts; the two men had argued the entire way, and the less-than-cordial debate continued even as they were led through the receiving chamber.
Orsini was still questioning Fieschi’s plan as they strode into the shadowy central hall, lined on both sides by heavy oaken doors leading to adjoining rooms, as well as entrances to other corridors.
In one of those rooms, Fieschi knew, Father Rodrigo was being held.
“The man has lost his senses,” Orsini said. “Most societies bar syphilitics or other diseased heirs from taking the reins of power—so too should the Church. It is a disservice to Christendom to let a simpleton be Bishop of Rome.”
“You mean it’s a disservice to you, because you cannot control him,” Fieschi retorted. “But I can. You must trust me.”
“Well, that’s easy to do, as you’ve proven to be such a man of your word so far,” Orsini muttered. “You will go down in the balladeers’ books as consistent, reliable Fieschi.”
“I will go down in the chronicles of the ages as effective, efficient Fieschi,” the Cardinal corrected. “Or rather, I will not go down in the chronicles at all. I am so effective as to be invisible. Where is the priest? Po—Father Rodrigo?” he demanded of a waiting servant, a willowy ostiarius who hovered near the interior door.
The slender man bowed. “He is in the room the Cardinals put aside for him when he was carried... when he returned from the Colosseum. He is holding an audience with two of the Cardinals.”
“Take me there,” Fieschi ordered.
“Both of us,” Orsini amended.
Fieschi looked askance at him. “This is my realm, Senator Orsini, not yours. Civil authority has no place here. I thank you for the use of your carriage, but you may return it to your palace now.”
Orsini’s face darkened to sunset purple. “Do not ever talk to me that way.”
Fieschi smiled coldly. “Do you see how upset you have just become? So very easily? You have just displayed the very reason I will not have you come with me to see him. I require absolute and total calm to get and keep his attention. Anger and suspicion? He will sense them with the fine-tuned perception of a madman. Stay away from him until I tell you that he’s fit for you. And that you are fit for him.”