passion, of certainty, of knowing everything was perfectly and brilliantly true, beautiful to the mind and the soul, as the things of God should be. Did he know an unbaptized child was lost to Paradise? He knew that was taught, but was it by God? Or was it by man, in order to enlarge the flock and therefore the power of the Church, ultimately their own dominion?
How did Gregory, and the Church, conceive of God? Were they creating Him in their own image, essentially shallow, seeking more and more praise, obedience, purchased by fear of damnation? Was man seeking anything beyond himself, not curtailed by the boundaries of his own imagination?
Who dared beyond that, crashing alone into the bright, silent world of... what? Infinite light? Or just a white void?
Palombara knew now, in this beautiful winter-pale room in the Vatican, that in his soul he believed that Gregory had no more idea than he had, simply no desire or compulsion to ask.
"I apologize, Holy Father," he said contritely, sorry for having disheartened an old man whose life hung upon his certainties. "I spoke hastily, because I gained respect for the wisdom of some of the eunuchs at the emperor's court, and I would exclude no one from the saving grace of truth. I fear we have much work yet to do in Byzantium before we win any loyalty deeper than the fear of our physical violence toward them if they fail."
"Fear can be the beginning of wisdom," Gregory pointed out. He looked up suddenly and met Palombara's eyes. He saw the skepticism in them, and possibly something of the darkness inside.
Palombara nodded in acquiescence.
"But I have other plans to discuss," Gregory said with sudden vigor. "The momentum is building for a new crusade, without the bloodshed of the past. I have decided to write to the emperor Michael inviting him to meet us in Brindisi next year. I will be able to speak to him, make better judgments of his strength, and his sincerity, and perhaps allay some of his fears." He waited for Palombara's reaction.
"Admirable, Holy Father," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could put into his voice. "It will stiffen his resolve, and perhaps you will be able to suggest to him ways in which he can deal with his bishops of the old faith, and still retain their loyalty. He will be grateful to you, as will the Byzantine people. More important than that, of course, it is the right thing to do."
Gregory smiled, quite clearly pleased with the response. "I am glad you see it so clearly, Enrico. I fear not everyone will."
Palombara wondered instantly if Vicenze had argued. That would have been daring of him, or, more likely, simply highly insensitive. Had he seen Gregory's failing health and already changed his allegiance? Perhaps Vicenze had information Palombara did not; otherwise it would be out of character. He never took risks.
"Others will understand in time, Holy Father," Palombara said, despising the hypocrisy in himself.
"Yes indeed." Gregory pursed his lips. "But we have much to do to prepare." He leaned forward a little. "We need all Italy with us, Enrico. There is much money to raise, and of course men, horses, armor, machines of war. And food, and ships. I have legates in all the capitals of Europe, and Venice will come because there is so much profit in it for them, as there always has been. Naples and the south will have no choice, because Charles of Anjou will see to it. It is the cities of Tuscany, Umbria, and the Regno that concern me."
In spite of his desire to be impervious to the fires of ambition, Palombara felt a flutter of excitement inside himself. "Yes, Holy Father..."
"Begin with Florence," Gregory said. "It is rich. There is a stirring of life and thought there that will reward us well, if we nurture it. They are loyal to us. Then I want you to seek out what support we have in Arezzo. That will be harder, I know. Their loyalties are to the Holy Roman Emperor. But you have proved your mettle in Byzantium." He smiled bleakly. "I know what you have told me of Michael Palaeologus, Enrico, and I am not as blind as your tact imagines. I know what you have not told me, by virtue of your silences. Go, and report back to me by the middle of January."
"Yes, Holy Father," Palombara said with an enthusiasm he could not conceal. "Yes, I