Secular Wizard

Chapter 22

All things considered, Matt was very relieved to see the same room around him when he came to. He’d had a bad moment when he thought Rebozo had magically pulled him away. He said as much, but Brother Thomas assured him, “No evil sorcery can touch you here. There is too much holiness about us, too many prayers filling the air.” Then he frowned. “Of course, if you wished the powers of Evil to touch you, if even some part of you that you did not wish to acknowledge longed for that touch, you would breach our defenses.”

“I don’t think even my subconscious wants that,” Matt said thickly. “It’s seen a little too much of the results.”

“Here, drink.” The monk held a goblet near Matt’s lips. “Gently, for ‘tis brandy-but a sip or two will bring the color back to your cheeks.”

Matt took a guarded sip, and heat exploded on his tongue, down his esophagus, and into his stomach. He exhaled, expecting to see fire, and found himself sitting upright. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “That’ll straighten out a snake.” He swallowed and said, “Nice brew.”

“But perhaps a bit of water after it?” Brother Thomas smiled and held out another goblet. Matt took it, and the monk turned away to press the brandy on Saul, then Arouetto-both of whom, Matt was relieved to see, were looking pretty green around the gills themselves. The brandy straightened them up, of course, and Brother Thomas was right-it did bring the color back to their cheeks, though they needed the chaser, too. “Didn’t know you folks had brandy here,” Saul said. “We have a most talented monk in charge of our stillery,” Brother Thomas explained. “New invention, then.” Saul nodded. “I’m sure it will catch on.”

“Well, you seem to be somewhat restored.” Brother Thomas beamed around at his collection of hulks beached on hardwood benches. “It is so good of you to visit a poor friar in his solitude! But tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit-especially when it is made in so unorthodox a manner?”

He was polite, but he was very curious-and very good at hearing them out, then asking questions that drew every last ounce of information from them. Finally he leaned back on his stool, resting against the desk, nodding in satisfaction that he had the whole story. “So! You have the audacity to set yourselves against the wickedness permitted by King Boncorro-or to seek to help him banish the wickedness that remains from the reign of King Maledicto, if you can first determine which is the case.”

“I vote for leftovers,” Matt said. “I’ve met Chancellor Rebozo.”

“He has an unsavory reputation, yes,” Brother Thomas agreed, “though most seem to think it is only because he toadies to the king and does whatever his Majesty commands, whether it be good or ill.”

“He prefers ill,” Matt averred, and Arouetto agreed. “Dismiss whatever reputation you have heard of his kindliness, Brother Thomas. He is a mean and cruel man, enjoying others’ misery.”

“You speak from your own experience?” Brother Thomas asked with interest.

“Yes,” Matt and Arouetto said together.

The monk steepled his fingers together. “And what do you propose to do about it?”

Arouetto and Saul exchanged a blank look, but Matt said slowly, “The king is trying very hard to be a materialist and believe in nothing but the things he can see and taste and touch. The result is that he has made a very good beginning on transforming Latruria into a secular society.”

Brother Thomas frowned. “But we have always had to contend with the secular aspects of life. The word only means ‘worldly,’ after all.”

“Yes-but most people have looked beyond this world, to the next. King Boncorro is trying to convince himself, and his people, that this world is all there is.”

Brother Thomas pursed his lips and whistled, gazing off into space. “Yes,” Matt said. ‘Taking it to a bit of an extreme, isn’t he?“

“He is most surely! There is nothing wrong with seeking to cope with the trials and burdens of this world, mind you, nor to seek worldly pleasures, so long as you hurt no one else thereby-”

“You sure you’re not a heretic?” Saul demanded. “Quite sure.” Brother Thomas grinned. “But the pope and his cardinals are not. Still, it is me you are asking, and it is I who shall answer. Christ told us to render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, after all, which I interpret as meaning that we must pay some attention to worldly matters.”

“Some.” Matt held up a palm. “Not all.”

“Not all, by any means. The Way of the World is cruel, with the stronger feeding upon the weaker, even grinding the weaker into the dust. We speak of slavery; we speak of toadying to those of higher rank and bullying those of lower; we speak of seeking to squeeze every last ounce of pleasure out of this life, with no concern for who may be hurt in the process. No, the secular life, with no spiritual values to balance it, will surely lead to evil. And this is the course on which King Boncorro has set every soul in his kingdom!”

“So far, yes,” Matt agreed. “But if we can interest him in some sort of moral principles, maybe we can balance that downward trend and pull it up to a level.”

“And how shall you manage that? He will have nothing to do with religion!”

“No,” Matt said, “but he is interested in the old learning, in the writings of the Greeks and Remans.”

“Is he truly?” Brother Thomas said slowly, turning to look at Arouetto. The scholar held up both palms to fend him off. “Do not seek to saddle me with him, I pray! My faith is in God first, yes, but in humankind second! Would you have this secular king become a humanist?”

“Yes,” Brother Thomas said, the fire of zeal lighting his eye. “It will bring him morality of a sort; it will bring him ethical principles!”

“But I am not a teacher!”

“Only because you haven’t been asked,” Matt pointed out. “King Boncorro will not ask me to teach him!”

“Want to bet?”

“I’ll bet,” Saul said. “I’ll bet that this Chancellor Rebozo won’t let Arouetto within a mile of the king!”

“He must indeed have some protection.” Brother Thomas’ keen gaze seemed to sink right into Matt’s brain. “Saul and I might be enough protection, between us,” Matt admitted, “but Saul’s a secular humanist himself, and I have more than my share of spiritual weaknesses. Wouldn’t we need some kind of shielding?”

Brother Thomas sighed. “All we can offer is prayer, but I speak ahead of myself. I cannot decide on so weighty a matter. You must speak to the Holy Father and let him judge your wisdom or folly.”

“The pope?” Matt stared.

“Even so. I shall arrange an audience.”

“Well, there’s only the three of us,” Matt said, “and that’s not much of a house-but if you can give us a chance, maybe we can persuade him.”

The only problem was, he wasn’t sure what he was going to be trying to persuade the pope to do. “Let you leave the Vatican?” The pope smiled. ‘To be sure! You may leave whenever you wish! But how shall you pass through the lines of the condottieri who surround us?“

“Condottieri?” Matt turned to Brother Thomas. “You didn’t tell us about this.”

The monk waved the objection away. “Surely a minor detail, for a wizard of your prowess.”

“Maybe not,” Saul said, glowering. “Who are these bandits, and how many of them are there?”

“Several thousand,” the pope sighed, “and they have celebrated the third anniversary of their surrounding of our hill.”

“Three years in place?” Saul looked up, almost indignantly. “How come they haven’t all died of dysentery and cholera?”

“Oh, they live well,” Brother Thomas told him. “Their days may be filled with drill and other military exercises, but their nights are wild with revelry. The king keeps them well-supplied with wine and women and money for gambling. They have settled down to stay, Lord Wizard. We speak not of a city of tents, mind you-they have built themselves wooden barracks, even houses for the officers. Their captains have captured the palaces of noblemen!”

“Captains, plural?” Saul demanded. “This isn’t just one band, then?”

“Nay,” said Brother Thomas. “It is eight bands, allied and agreed as to who has jurisdiction over which sector. In truth, they have taken the city of Reme and become its virtual government.”

“So it’s not just a campaign against you? You’re simply the only hill that’s been able to hold out?”

“Yes,” said the pope, “though our endurance is certainly not due to our handful of valiant Swiss guardsmen. I think the mercenary captains are in awe of us-either that, or our prayers are answered more strongly than even I would expect.”

“Or,” Saul said slowly, “they have more to gain by leaving you be than by capturing you.”

The pope turned to him, frowning. “How could that be?”

“Let’s just say, purely hypothetically, you understand, that the bandits did take the Vatican,” Saul said. “What would King Boncorro do then?”

The pope stood immobile as the consequences added up in his brain-but it was Brother Thomas who spoke. “He could not allow them to keep the ancient capital of the empire, could he?”

“Definitely not,” Saul said. ‘Too much prestige in it-not to mention a central location, the Tiber for a supply line, and all the surrounding farmland to feed them. They would start raiding the other cities-and there’s every chance they’d manage to take Latruria away from King Boncorro. After all, these guys aren’t simple forest bandits, are they?“

“Not at all,” Brother Thomas said, thin-lipped. “They are mercenary armies, seeking a living while they are unemployed.”

“What makes you so sure they’re unemployed?”

The other four men stared at Saul, astounded. “Yes, of course,” Matt said slowly. “King Boncorro couldn’t just leave them at loose ends, could he? He’d have them raiding all over the peninsula, wreaking chaos-and undermining the prosperity he’s trying to build. Better to pay them to stay out of the way.”

“Wouldn’t work,” Saul said firmly. “ ‘Once you have paid the Danegeld, you never get rid of the Dane.’ ”

“Dane?” The pope looked from one to the other, puzzled. “The Vikings who raided England,” Matt explained. “One of the kings tried to pay them off-and it worked for a few months, sometimes a year. But sooner or later they came back to demand more.”

“However,” Saul said, “if you didn’t just pay them to stay away, but hired them to do a definite job, they might stay occupied and permanently out of the way.”

“You are saying that the king hired them to lock us in, but never to take us?”

“No, I’m saying he told them to conquer you, but the captains figured out fast that once they took the Vatican, the paychecks would stop-so they came up with a plausible story about not being able to march past the foot of your slope, and settled down to starve you out.”

“But we have wells and water, and they have not attempted to keep the barges from selling us food!”

“Well, can they help it if they don’t have a navy?” Saul asked. “Meantime, the king pays them well to live in luxury. They’re happy, he’s happy-and you’re penned up where you can’t interfere with his plans.”

“It is possible, it is very possible,” the pope muttered, shaking his head. “I would not have thought him to be so devious.”

Saul shrugged. “Okay, so maybe he just told his chancellor to find a way to keep the mercenaries out of the way and peaceful, and Rebozo decided it was worth sacrificing Reme, to make sure you guys couldn’t bust up his plans. Would the king really worry about it?”

“Nay.” The pope’s lips thinned. “In fact, I can see that he might applaud the notion. But how are we to be rid of them?”

“Do you want to be?” Saul challenged. “Of course!” the pope snapped. “There is no chance of doing God’s work, of preaching the Gospel and administering the sacraments, if we are kept as virtual prisoners here!”

“But you have priests out in the countryside to do that work,” Saul objected, “priests in secret, priests in hiding, but no less effective for all that. I’ve even run into one man who claims that nothing spreads a religion so much as persecution.”

“I will allow that it tempers us and makes those of us who cling to the Faith crystalline in our belief,” the pope said, “but ‘spread’?”

“So it’s the man in the field who does the real work, as always,” Saul pointed out. “What do they need to be in touch with the bureaucrats at headquarters for?”

The pope’s eyes narrowed. “I do not think I like you, Wizard Saul.”

“Join the club,” Saul said with a sardonic smile. “You’ve got plenty of company. But I notice you haven’t answered the question.”

“The valiant clergy must be in contact with us for the same reason that a body needs a head!” the pope snapped. “Without our direction, without our inspiration, their faith would falter, they would succumb to fear and to temptations of the flesh! Most serious of all, the usurper has set up a puppet pope in the north, at that little town just below the Alps. The imposter claims to be the true pope!”

“Which you are, of course,” Saul said, poker-faced.

“Of course I am! The cardinals elected me, and stayed here with me, save for the handful who fled to do Boncorro’s bidding! Oh, the people cry that it is a sign of his tolerance, of his allowing the faithful to practice their Faith again-but we know better, for we have heard this puppet pope’s edicts! He teaches that each bishop can interpret the Scriptures for himself without the restriction of the papacy! He teaches that adultery is permissible, if it is done far from home! He teaches that the people need only heed the law of the king, but never the law of the Church!”

“He does kind of sound like a paid voice,” Matt said to Saul.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t quite that clear back home,” Saul growled. “And we haven’t heard his side of the story.”

The pope turned a black gaze on the Wizard of Sarcasm. “Must you question everything that is said? Have you no faith of any kind?”

“Yes!” Saul snapped. “I have faith in the ideas that have withstood every test I could put them to! I question everything, and only accept the ideas that have sound answers!”

“Even then, you’re ready to revise your opinion on new evidence,” Matt pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I admitted that the atrocity stories about the Phoenician religion were true, didn’t I?”

“Only when the archaeologists dug up that graveyard of incinerated bodies,” Matt retorted. “Indeed!” The pope looked interested. “You will hearken to Truth, then!”

“Why, yes,” Saul shot back. “Do you have any to tell me?”

The pope’s face darkened again, and Arouetto interrupted quickly. “The condottieri have sealed off the Vatican. That, at least, is true.”

The pope nodded. “And the Church needs the Holy See, just as the Empire of Reme needed its emperor.”

“Whoa!” Matt held up a hand. “I thought it had turned into a real republic, with the Etruscans, the Latini, and the Carthaginians all equal partners.”

Saul looked up with keen interest. “You know something I don’t know?”

“Yes, and I’ll fill you in later. When did they hire an emperor, your Holiness?”

“Why, when they had conquered so much territory, and so many peoples, that the senate could not wait for the tedious exchange of messages with the provinces that would decide their policies,” the pope answered, frowning. “When decisions needed to be made more quickly than debate would allow. Do you not know of this?”

“We haven’t had access to the books.”

“Lamentable!” The pope shook his head. “Know, then, that it was Julius Caesar who was first able to find common ground between the views of all three powers, and who was able to make policies that satisfied them all-or persuade them to be satisfied.”

“Here, too, huh?” Saul nodded. “He always was as much a politician as a general.”

“Or just as good a politician,” Matt qualified.

“He also had an excellent sense for commerce,” the pope told them. “His trade policies ruled the empire till its closing days.”

“Well, that’s new,” Saul admitted. “Did the Praetorian Guard still get so much of the real power?”

“The… Guard?” The pope frowned. “What were they?”

“Caesar’s bodyguard,” Matt explained. “Actually, it was Augustus who really built them up, after what had happened to his uncle.”

“What did happen to his uncle?”

Matt stared, then said carefully, “The way I heard it, Caesar was assassinated.”

“Assassinated? Never! He died in bed, aged but still keen of mind, and honored by all!”

Matt stared, and Saul muttered, “Et tu, Brute.”

“Brutus?” The pope looked up. “Aye, he led the Latini in acclaiming Augustus the legitimate heir-who proved just as adroit a diplomat as his uncle. What need would he have had for a bodyguard? The people loved him, the patricians loved him! Oh, there are tales of madmen striking at him in the streets-but the mob bore them down ere they could come near him! The whole city was his bodyguard!”

Saul turned to Matt. “You mind explaining?”

“Change the foundation, you get a different shape of house,” Matt explained. “Details at eleven.” He turned back to the pope. “So the senate really did choose the emperor, right down to the last days of the empire?”

“They did indeed, and there were always many Caesars to choose from.”

“Real Caesars?” Saul demanded. “Not just adopted Claudians? He didn’t divorce his first wife and marry Livia?”

“Never! He maintained staunchly that divorce was the bane of the patricians, and did all he could to discourage it!”

“So his children were really his children,” Matt said slowly, “and the empire was ruled by a line of diplomats, not a series of sadistic madmen. How about Caligula?”

The pope gave him a blank look, but Arouetto said, “He was a scion of the Claudians-mad, as the Lord Wizard says. When his incest with his sister was discovered, he was sent to the frontier, then executed for commanding a century of legionnaires to charge a thousand Germans. They were slain to a man, though they took five hundred Germans with them.”

“So.” Matt steepled his fingers. “The Claudians never took power, and the Etruscans and Carthaginians kept an informal system of checks and balances operating, so the emperor never really was a total despot. Power didn’t corrupt the office?”

“Well, somewhat,” Arouetto admitted, “but never more than it corrupts any bailiff or reeve.”

“No absolute power, so no absolute corruption.” Matt nodded. “Come to that, how many countries did the empire actually have to conquer, and how many joined to get better trade advantages?”

“Shrewdly guessed, for one who claims not to have read the books,” the pope said with a frown, but Arouetto smiled. “I doubt not it was a shrewd guess indeed-and I have but to confirm the answer. Yes, Julius Caesar was as clever in commerce as in battle, as I’ve said, and invented a score of advantages for other nations to federate with Reme. The army conquered only those nations intent on stealing Reme’s trade-pirates’ nests and bandits’ roosts-and those intent on overthrowing Reme herself, or raiding her provinces; it was for that reason we conquered the Germanies.”

“Conquered the Germanies?” Matt stared. “On the other side of the Rhine?”

“Even so.”

“Just when did the empire fall?” Saul demanded. “The federated nations had almost all broken away by the year of Our Lord 653,” Arouetto said, “but it was not until 704, when the last of the Caesars had died, that the Visigoths attacked Reme herself. The Ostrogoths marched up behind them and made short work of them, so Reme was not sacked-but an Ostrogoth declared himself to be emperor. No federated nation would obey a man who was not a Caesar, not even a Latrurian, so we may say that is the date at which the empire fell.”

Matt frowned. “But Hardishane established his empire only a hundred years later!”

Arouetto nodded. “He rose up among the ruins of the empire, as it were, and forged an empire anew.”

“That certainly minimized the Dark Ages.” Saul was looking dazzled. “How did the Caesars keep the proletariat from tearing Reme apart?”

“Why, by conscripting them into the army and navy,” Arouetto replied. “Didn’t the patricians object?” Matt asked. “What did they do for clients?”

“Oh, there were always a few old soldiers who wished to return to Reme to raise their families, rather than settling down in the provinces they had defended.”

“But the sons of the senators?” Matt asked. “How did Caesar prevent them from hanging around Reme and getting into trouble?”

Saul gave a bark of laughter. “Who do you think were the officers?”

Arouetto nodded. “Even so-and the sons of the plebians became centurions, if they did not wish to go on trading voyages.”

“Yeah.” Saul smiled sourly. “The merchants did as much to spread the empire as the soldiers, didn’t they?”

“Oh, more! For first the merchants would begin trading with a country and let them see the benefits of Reman civilization-”

“Which means they got them hooked on Reman goods and gave them a glimpse of central heating and public baths,” Matt interpreted.

Saul nodded. “And filled the teenagers’ heads with dazzling visions of the wonders of Reme, Carthage, and the cities of the Levant. Sure they’d want to join the empire-especially since the emperor always sent in a legion to protect his merchants. Right?”

Arouetto frowned. “Are you sure you have not read the books?”

“Your Holiness!” A monk broke in, the white showing all around his eyes. “The condottieri attack!”

“To the chapel, quickly!” the pope cried, then turned to his guests. “Come with us, for every prayer is needed, to beseech the Saints’ protection!”

Matt had a vision of an invisible wall of prayer surrounding the Vatican. He could see Saul working himself up to a scathing reply and was just about to try to stop him when the monk burst out, “There are sorcerers with them, your Holiness! They have already thrown fireballs at the Holy City! The Saints protected us, and the fireballs fell back among the condottieri-but Heaven knows what they will try next!”

“Heaven does know, and will forestall them, Brother Athenius,” the pope reassured him, then to his guests, “Follow us!”

They hurried after him, Matt catching up and saying, “With all respect, your Holiness, it might be a bit more practical for Wizard Saul and myself to stay here and fight magic with magic.”

The pope screeched to a halt and stared. “But there will be danger!”

“We’re used to it,” Saul snapped, and Matt shrugged. “There will be danger even in the cathedral, your Holiness. We have taken such risks before.”

“Then I shall accept your kind offer, and gratefully! But at least climb to the top of St. Peter’s steeple! You can see all of the enemy from there, and the power of prayer may assist you!”

“The power of prayer!” Saul grumbled as they climbed the steeple. “What good is that going to be?”

“More man you know, here,” Matt said. They came out into a small cupola above the belfry and looked out over the city of Reme. For a few moments both men stood speechless. Then Saul said, “Looks just like Rome to me, man. I can see the Colosseum, and the Forum, or what’s left of it.”

“No Trevi Fountain yet,” Matt noted, “but it looks like the Aqueduct is still working.”

“Give the bandits time, they’ll get to it.” Saul shivered. “Never thought I’d see the Eternal City in the Middle Ages!”

“Never thought I’d be standing on top of St. Peter’s.” Matt looked down a bit and saw a troop of horsemen riding up the slope toward the cathedral. “No wall, not even afence! This place is wide open! What’s been keeping them out?”

“If you dare say ‘the power of prayer…’ ”

Matt shrugged. “Why should I say it? Just try a verse that stops them, and see what happens.”

Saul grinned. “Why not?”

He broke off, staring. “What the hey is that?”

Matt had felt it, too-a sudden surge of energy that left him almost giddy with a feeling of power, as if he could pick up the world and use it for a racquetball. “What do you think it is?”

As one, the horses turned and started back down the hill. The horsemen swore and yanked at the reins, and horses tossed their heads and whinnied protest, but they kept on going-and not just the ones on the road, either. As far and wide as they could see, a countercurrent struck the ranks of the condottieri cavalry. The horses had all turned and started back. Saul ran over to the other side of the cupola and stared down. “They’re doing it over here, too!”

“Never knew ‘Whoopi-ti-yi-yo’ qualified as magic words,” Matt said conversationally. Saul turned to glare at him. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Only this time. Look! The sorcerers are fighting back!”

“If you can call this fighting,” Saul grumbled, but he came to look. There was a blue glow in the middle of the condottieri army, and greenish smoke trailed up. The horses suddenly answered to the bit, turning and heading back uphill again. “So. They know they’ve got some resistance.” Saul nodded. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not even needed here?”

“Maybe because those fireballs curved back on the army that threw them,” Matt said. “On the other hand, those riders are halfway to the cathedral, and no one’s stopping them. Do you suppose the Saints are waiting for us to do the job?”

“You mean we shouldn’t have volunteered?”

“No, I mean that Heaven helps those who help themselves.”

Saul grunted. “Those condottieri are helping themselves. They’re all set to help themselves to everything that’s not nailed down.”

“So we have to help the clergy in a way they haven’t been able to do,” Matt summarized, “although it does seem kind of strange that they don’t have even one clerical wizard on hand.”

“In corporate headquarters?” Saul challenged. “All they’d have here are bureaucrats!”

“You might have a point. Okay, what do we do to push the bandits back out of here?”

“Well” Saul said slowly, “they’re presumably all working for Evil, and I’ve heard a lot about the Aroma of Sanctity With a soft burping sound, something exploded in the center of the cupola.