The Queen's Companion

by Maggi Petton

  Chapter Thirty Three

  The plan was to return home after Pienza, but the queen was in need of Father Tim. Robert sent soldiers back to the castle to inform both Ambrose and Lord Giovanni of the delay. He changed the route to bypass the more difficult terrain in order to reach Castiglione d’ Orcia. They made good time. It took two and one-half days to reach the village.

  Father Tim was surprised, but glad to see the queen. He invited Catherine, Bella and Robert to share his humble quarters during their stay, but they declined. They had everything they needed in camp, and did not want to be far from the children.

  Their regular visits to Castiglione d’ Orcia had given Catherine a false impression of how much the Inquisition impacted other towns. She was familiar with life in Castiglione d’ Orcia, and the difference between it and Pienza was striking.

  Father Timothy dined with them. Camp dinners were simple fare, but the supply wagons carried a table and chairs for the queen and a few guests. As dinner drew to a close, everyone wandered off to other campfires or prepared for sleep. Father Timothy was left with Catherine, Bella and Robert.

  “Majesty,” he addressed Catherine, “while I am delighted at your surprise visit, I can see in your eyes that you are deeply troubled. What has happened?”

  The small secluded campfire around which they sat seemed to envelope them in a miniature world of their own. Flames flickered, casting shadows around and between them. The smoke of the fire rose straight up, but then briefly bent toward Catherine engulfing her. She closed her eyes and waited for the pillar of smoke to change direction again. When it did, she opened her eyes and looked into the flames trying to figure out how to start.

  She wasn’t sure where to begin. She still felt quite fragile and a little afraid the hopelessness might take her over again. She worked diligently to keep it at bay, but it was a stealthy enemy following her every movement and shadowing every thought, every breath. If she wasn’t cautious, she might inhale the wispy, featherlike edge, then it would be too late and the cloud would consume her again.

  Bella reached out and placed her hand on Catherine’s arm.

  Catherine began. “We have just come from Pienza. The things that greeted us there were so disturbing that I don’t think I have the will, or the desire, to face them elsewhere. I was ignorant to the realities of the Inquisition. But I am ignorant no more.” She paused, looked into the fire, the continued. “In Montalcino I created my own ignorance by blaming Bishop Capshaw for our suffering.” She looked up from the flames with a sad smile. “I suppose it was easier to think that the kingdom was unaffected by the brutalities, much like your own Castiglione d’ Orcia. I wasn’t prepared for the total devastation of towns like Pienza. I don’t know how to fight against such a foe as the one my own Church has created. The enormity of it is overwhelming.”

  She stopped. The cloud skirted around the edges of her being, still threatening. The smoke from the fire wafted toward her again, but then shifted in the opposite direction as if it had been warned of the danger in staying that course.

  Father Tim sighed, “My Queen, this is a war. Sadly, it is a war about power and greed, land and money… but it is disguised as a spiritual war. It’s difficult to know how to fight such an enemy. Those who try are paying for it with their lives and their land. You cannot fault yourself for floundering in this battle. If you did not falter you might speed full and foolish into the fight without proper weapons and protection.”

  At the mention of weapons Robert asked, “What kinds of weapons are there for such a battle? How do I protect my Queen from such invisible assaults?”

  “You cannot, my dear friend,” Tim shook his head sadly.

  “Then how can she prepare herself?” asked Bella. “She cannot do this again.”

  Father Tim looked directly at Catherine. “You must arm yourself with the Spirit of God’s Truth.” He stopped and seemed to implore each of them, “You all must. Don’t misunderstand, you must still be ready to protect yourselves with swords and armor, but you must also protect your spirits.”

  “How can we do such a thing?” Catherine asked. “And how do we know if we are acting within the Spirit of Truth? If I say that my truth is God’s truth, and the bishop says his truth is God’s truth, whose truth is true?”

  The priest smiled, “The Spirit of truth is characterized by humility and with openness, a readiness to be surprised. If it is truly the Spirit of God guiding us, we will not be so convinced that we have it all figured out; we will always be peeking around the corners of our beliefs and habits to see how else God might be revealed.”†

  Father Tim saw Bella smiling at him. He smiled back and continued.

  “Perhaps, more importantly, the Spirit of Truth is characterized by love. If what we think is the truth is not loving and kind, merciful and understanding, concerned about caring for the least among us, it is not the Spirit of God. Jesus said over and over again that love is the defining reality of God, and therefore the defining reality of our humanity.”† Tim paused, “God is love, Majesty, therein lies the true truth.”

  No one spoke. The stars began to twinkle overhead. Night noises crept in around them. Smells from the burning cedar wrapped them peacefully.

  “I need to make my way back to the village. You will stay for a few days, I hope, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes.”

  Robert stood. “I will have two of my soldiers accompany you to the village.”

  “Thank you.”

  As he was leaving Catherine said, “I should like more conversations over the next few days.”

  “I am at your service, Majesty.”

  Later, alone in their tent, as Catherine and Bella lay close together, Bella asked, “What did you think of what Father Tim had to say?”

  “I hear him and I think ‘of course, that makes perfect sense…that is exactly what Christ meant’. He clarifies the teachings of Christ for me in a way no one has before. But I need more. How do I deal with the horrors, how do I listen to the sorrows, without falling into them? I need to know how to surround myself with that truth, the certainty of that truth, especially when I am in the midst of such hideous evil as being perpetrated by this Inquisition.

  “You do need that, and if anyone can help you to find a way to prevent the loss of yourself in trying to help your subjects, it is Father Tim.”

  “Bella…”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bella propped herself up on her elbow and reached to run her hand through Catherine’s hair. She stroked Catherine’s cheek and laid her head on Catherine’s shoulder.

  “I love you,” Bella whispered. And they fell asleep wrapped around one another.

  Over the next few days Catherine met often with Father Tim. Sometimes Bella or Robert joined them; other times Catherine met with him alone. The woods around Castiglione d’ Orcia provided a peaceful setting in which to walk and talk. The canopy of leaves overhead was bursting bright green as the first buds began unfolding. One morning Catherine and Tim wound their way along a well-worn animal path. A mountain stream gurgled along with them.

  “Majesty, your prayer life is critical during this time. You must be in communication with God to sustain yourself.”

  “You are right, of course. But I find it is difficult, with the change in routine, to be steadfast in prayer.”

  “You may find that your style of prayer can change with your change in routine. Prayer does not always require a certain ritual.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe that prayer has to do with searching not so much for God, who is always near, but for our own way of being with God, which can be somewhat obscured. Each of us must struggle to sift through practices and teachings, through our own resistance and bad habits, in order to find our own way to connect with God.”†

  He reached out his hand and helped her step over a fallen log. “Over time I have utilized various means to do this…walking in these woods is on
e way. Sometimes I find I am able to find God in music, or reading. Other times I find God in my relationships with others. There are times when the ongoing struggle with my own demons and limitations lead me to the Divine. But within each of these means there is a common thread – the search for the kinds of experience that God promises: peace, truth, confidence, creativity, vitality and love for others. This is always the same…how I might get there is different.” †

  Catherine thought about this for a while as they walked. Slowing only slightly she said, “I told you once that I had lost my ability to feel God’s presence.”

  “I remember. You were convinced that God had abandoned you because of your love for Lady Isabella.”

  She sighed as she resumed walking at her normal pace again, “I still have yet to feel God’s presence the way I did before. But, as I listen to you, I am aware that the feelings I experience when I hold Sofia, or sit quietly with Bella, are similar.”

  “Ah, Majesty, there it is. Searching for God is like a fish searching for water. We live in God; the divine is the air in which we live and move and have our being. We are all part of God’s body. The whole of creation is God’s body; rich and poor; plants and animals; mountains, sky, rivers; all races and tribes.” †

  The path opened onto a sunlit meadow. Catherine smiled and stepped into the sun, turning her face up to its warmth. Tim followed.

  “How does God abide what the Church is doing now? How does He tolerate this violence being done in His name? And, please don’t begin by telling me about free will,” she begged.

  Father Tim couldn’t help but chuckle. “Majesty, it amazes me how much of my own questioning comes through in your questions. The answer is that I don’t know how God tolerates what is happening. I imagine Him to be greatly sorrowed, as we are.” Tim folded his hands and brought them up to his lips, then dropped them again. “I can give you my thoughts, but know that they are mine. When I consider all we know about God, I am reminded that we are made in God’s image. If that is so, then perhaps God, also, struggles with the dark side of His own nature. If we are created in His image, then we must assume that evil, or at least the potential for evil, is part of God.”

  Catherine stopped and looked at Father Tim with something akin to horror, “Surely that must be blasphemy! Are you not afraid to even think such thoughts?”

  “At first I was, yes. But the more I considered this possibility, the more I studied the scriptures, the more I meditated on this thought, I could not deny that the possibility was there. Have you read the Old Testament?”

  “Of course.”

  “The God of the Old Testament was a bit frightening to me. Do you find Him so?”

  “Yes, actually, even somewhat vengeful and unpredictable. The stories of slaughter and slavery always disturbed me,” Catherine responded. She remained standing still as he went on. She felt that she needed to understand what he was getting at before she could continue along this path with him.

  He remained standing with her. “And the story of Noah, tell me what speaks to you in that lesson.”

  “That God abhorred what man had become,” she said. She looked at Tim and a smile slowly spread across her face. “I think I see where you are headed.” She began to make her way to the center of the meadow.

  “God is ever changing…as we are. If we are all part of God, if God is in us and we are in God, as Christ has taught, and if we are made in God’s own image, then why can’t God use us to refine His own being?” Father Tim was becoming rather animated as he spoke. “God’s own free will and His own realization of how humanity acted on the darker side of that free will may have been just what determined God to send us Jesus Christ.”

  “As a way to help us choose a more loving path for the whole of humanity?”

  “Why not?” asked Father Tim.

  “You have managed to bring us around to ‘free will’, Father. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” the queen laughed.

  “It was unavoidable, Majesty,” he chuckled again. “I apologize. But, think on this; the Divine love of Christ is the inner force that insistently brings life out of death; that keeps searching for ways to recreate harmony and justice when parts of our body rebel against our innate divine nature and hurt other parts of the body.” † He stopped again and looked at her. “This Inquisition is like a sore festering in the body of God. Part of the Body is sick, but we cannot abandon it, we must nurture it back to health. We must bring truth and love to the parts in need.”

  “And how do we deal with the parts that are creating the sickness, the parts that attack the other parts?” They strolled to the far edge of the meadow.

  “With God’s grace, we bring truth and love to all parts. We must try. That is our task.”

  “I don’t believe it is in me to love someone like the bishop.” Even thinking about Bishop Capshaw drove her anger to the surface. “And when I see the evil that has befallen the children in my kingdom, I feel only my desire to rid us of this scourge.”

  “It is not easy to love someone who behaves in such hateful ways, especially those with the power to convince many that they are speaking for God, or acting on God’s behalf. We must be vigilant in reminding ourselves that God loves even the most hateful of us. You, as Queen, are in a difficult position.” He indicated that it was time to turn back. “You must mete out punishment to criminals, and be fair and compassionate in your dealings with your subjects. I do not envy you, Your Majesty. Yours is a complex and heavy duty. You have the power and the authority to execute, imprison, banish or forgive.” Tim stopped and looked Catherine directly in the eyes. “You, more than most, must rely on the grace of God to fulfill your duties in the spirit of love and truth.”

  As they stepped out of the meadow and back into the forest, Tim held a branch out of the way so that Catherine need only bend a bit to get back onto the path.

  “I will tell you the truth, Father, there are times when I wish I were a simple peasant.”

  Father Tim laughed. “I know the feeling well, Majesty! But I will share this with you; I am thankful to God every day for you as my monarch. No matter the struggle that you endure, I know that God is with you because you invite Him into your heart and soul. I believe that you rule from a place of truth and love. Know that my prayers are with you always. And know that God is with you…whether you feel his presence or not.”

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Catherine and her entourage returned to the castle for a respite before resuming her tour of the kingdom. She was anxious to see how Ambrose was faring in his role as king. It would also be nice to bathe and sleep in her own bed.

  The forward guard rode ahead to announce the return of the queen. The courtyard was full of families to greet the returning travelers. The soldiers who had come straight from Pienza to inform the king and Lord Giovanni about the unscheduled stop in Castiglione d’ Orcia had reported that life in Pienza was dismal, so many of the castle residents were present to find out what had happened. Even King Ambrose waited in the courtyard, most urgent to greet Sofia.

  “My daughter has grown in her short absence from me!” Ambrose exclaimed as he lifted Sofia into his arms. He buried his face in Sofia’s neck and proceeded to make her shriek with joy. The king’s delight in his daughter was apparent. Catherine could not deny that he loved her, and Sofia was equally enamored of her father. Ambrose might lack in many areas, but his love for Sofia was not one of them.

  At dinner in the Great Hall that evening, Catherine refrained from inquiring about the Privy Council. She had already arranged to meet with Ambrose tomorrow for details. He asked about the journey to Pienza and the subsequent change in plan to visit Castiglione d’ Orcia.

  “Word reached us that things in Pienza were quite difficult,” Ambrose said.

  “You cannot imagine,” Catherine answered. A server filled her goblet with wine and stood back.

  “Were you in any danger?”

  “Never.” She looked at him and detected his c
oncern. “I would not have taken Sofia if I thought there might be any risk involved.” She was offended at the hint of concern over their daughter’s safety. But then she realized that Sofia was his precious child as much as hers and she added, “But I doubt I will take her on any more of these journeys. She will be better off here with you.”

  He visibly relaxed. “What happened there? Can you tell me?”

  “An entire town died,” she said sadly. “There are still people walking around, breathing, and eating. But they no longer really live. The heart and soul are gone from Pienza. I don’t know if it can ever return to what it once was…I doubt it.”

  He reached out and patted her hand. “Let’s hope that Pienza is an exception.” His concern surprised Catherine.

  “I will tell you more about it tomorrow. For now let us enjoy our meal. I am glad to be back.”

  As Catherine pondered how much to share with Ambrose, her eye caught the blush of a young woman at a table off to the right. The woman had been obviously sharing a look with Ambrose. Ambrose tried to hide his smile at the woman, but his demeanor radiated as he looked at her. She wondered who the young woman was, for she did not recognize her.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Ambrose did well on the Privy Council during Catherine’s short absence. When they met in her office the day after her return from Castiglione d’ Orcia he was direct and comprehensive in reporting the few things the Council addressed while she was gone.

  They returned to their previous nights’ discussion of Pienza. Catherine didn’t try to hide her sadness from him.