Magnificat

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  Cardinal Mendosa glanced up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know. It was part of the message.” Martin Bell sat down on one of three elegant baroque chairs. The upholstery was a darker version of that of the sofa. “I believe what Karodin says.”

  “But to claim that Carlo Urbi was behind the poisoning, and that he intended to kill Zhuang.…” Cardinal Mendosa gave a single, exasperated sigh. “The man is head of catering. He’s so obvious that we vetted him first.”

  “Dionigi Stelo vetted him. You didn’t have Interpol and the Eurocops in at the beginning of the investigation.” Martin Bell set his briefcase on the floor beside his chair. “Everyone took Stelo’s word for it.”

  There was a canny look in Cardinal Mendosa’s brown eyes. “You’re making it sound like Stelo was part of the plot.”

  “According to the report, it was more a question of the good-old-boy network. Stelo hired Urbi, and he’s the one who’s been giving him clearance. If Urbi is tainted, then Stelo could be tainted, too. He didn’t want to think that someone connected with his staff could possibly be part of a conspiracy. Which Urbi was and is. You can see that he has been true to the cause ever since Pope An was elevated. The only reason he hasn’t done more is that he would make himself obvious if there were another poisoning. Karodin’s man in the Vatican—”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” complained Cardinal Mendosa.

  “I can understand why,” said Martin Bell, running his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. “But whoever he is, he is Karodin’s man, and he will do whatever Karodin requires of him.”

  “Marvelous,” said Cardinal Mendosa with heavy sarcasm. He looked at the next page, at the proof of Carlo Urbi’s participation in the death of Cardinal Tayibha, and proof that the conspiracy was still in place to bring about the death of Pope An.

  “Do you want to talk with Karodin?” asked Martin Bell.

  “No. Not yet. I think I’d better have a word or two with Cardinal Pugno. I’ll find out what that’s all about. After that, maybe I ought to delve a little further into this mess. Something has to be done about Urbi, but with as little fanfare as possible. A major trial right now would be more than the Church could weather. And who knows? it might give other people ideas. Whatever comes of this situation, I’ll include it in my next report to Karodin.” He flipped to the next page his face growing grim. “Three conspiracies, and I knew of only one of them.” He tapped the faxes against the palm of his hand. “All right. I’m going to need everything you can provide me on how Karodin’s man put this case together, and then I want permission to turn it over to the Eurocops. This is too hot to keep to myself.”

  Now Martin Bell looked worried. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

  “Positive,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “I can’t be responsible for Pope An’s security myself, and since I can’t, I must give everything I know to those who can. And right now I don’t much care where the information is coming from, just so long as it can hold up to forensic scrutiny.”

  “You see the proof on the second page,” Martin Bell reminded him. “That should stand up well enough.”

  “I sure as hell hope so,” said Cardinal Mendosa, feeling exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. “And I hope we won’t have to demand that Karodin reveal the name of his man in the Vatican; I have a hunch that would make things rough on all of us.” He riffled the five pages again. “I’ve been praying for some kind of break for months. And now I’ve got it, I wish I didn’t have to know what I know.”

  “You can do something to help her,” said Martin Bell. “Doesn’t that help?”

  It took Cardinal Mendosa a few seconds to answer. “Yeah. If it’s enough, then I suppose it does.”

  Chapter 30

  From her position on the balcony overlooking Saint Peter’s Square, Pope An watched the assembled crowd with a combination of awe and distress. “Why should it matter so much to them?” she wondered aloud. “A few words will not make any difference to them, not as they suppose.” She was rigged out in Papal finery, the jeweled tiara glistening where the light struck it.

  “It’s important to them because of continuity,” said Cardinal Mendosa, his manner a bit distracted; he had a fourth appointment with Axel Maetrich later that evening and he was growing apprehensive about it.

  “That is understandable,” said Pope An, her eyes weary on this late December afternoon. “But why should it be so simple a thing? A ritual whose meaning is hardly understood? If there were purpose to this.…” She held up her hand to stop Cardinal Mendosa from explaining. “If I were born to it, I am sure it would have purpose for me. I accept that. As one who comes to this late and without apparent determination, I can only ponder the traditions you have.”

  “Do you feel the same way about the wedding you are to celebrate at midnight?” asked Cardinal Mendosa, trying to be more light-hearted than he felt.

  “Not at all, although it is lamentable that there had to be so much scandal associated with the event. I believe that Dame Leonie’s former husband has made it his business to turn the entire proceeding into suffering for her. That is not a correct thing to do.”

  “No, it’s not.” Cardinal Mendosa stepped back, feeling peculiar in his full Cardinal’s regalia; he had grown used to the more practical, worldly garments Pope An preferred.

  Pope An signaled to Cardinal Cadini, who stood near her. “Cadini, I want you to speak with the press afterward, if that is required.”

  “They’ll be expecting it, and if we don’t, heaven knows what they’ll make of it. Of course I’ll do it, Pope,” he said promptly, his smile showing true enthusiasm. “It is always invigorating to speak to the press when you have finished with them.” He gave a covert thumbs-up to Cardinal Mendosa.

  “Are you ready, Worthy Magistrate?” Cardinal Mendosa asked as he checked his watch, relying on it instead of the sound of bells. “It’s time.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, and moved a step toward the railing, holding her hands up, the palms turned outward. She went to the microphone, knowing that Willie Foot would translate for her on his own headset. For convenience, she spoke in Chinese, confident that Willie would serve her interests very well. “To all of you—those of you in the square beneath this balcony and those of you throughout the world who are part of this Church—the blessings of this season be on you and all of yours at the Mass of Christ.”

  There was a cheer, not so enthusiastic as some had been but not as derisive as others. Pope An waited as the noise rose and fell.

  “To mark this time, I wish to comment to you on sin, for at this time of year each of you wishes to be reborn from what you believe is the burden of sin.” She paused again as the crowd reacted to her announcement. “You are preoccupied with sin; I have been asked many questions about sin, and I have had no answer for you. Now I wish to speak of sin. For the last year I have striven to have the matter of sin explained to me, not as the word is used so often, but as it has meaning. From the scholarship of many others, I have found that sin is more a concept of the Greeks than the Jews, and that it indicates straying or wandering away from the path. It does not mean lost as forsaken, but lost as misdirected. Most of you have seen this as a lax morality instead of confusion. To lose the burden of sin it is necessary that you return to the path, to what Chinese people call the Way. Those who are on the Way are without sin. Those who are not on the way experience sin.” She halted so that Willie could catch up with her, and so that those listening to her could have a little time to digest her remarks. “Moral laxness is a separate issue entirely.”

  “Very compelling,” said Cardinal Cadini softly to Cardinal Mendosa.

  “The Fundamentalists are going to have a field day,” Cardinal Mendosa predicted. “Moral laxness and sin have been keeping company forever, according to them. This’ll put a twist in their shorts.”

  “They will react unfavorably no matter what she says,” Cardinal Cadini whispered, and
noticed that Cardinal Lepescu was glaring at them. Beyond Cardinal Lepescu, Cardinal van Hooven waited in thoughtful silence.

  “This straying is not an act of rebellion or deliberate error, though many of you believe that it is. Rather it is the result of confusion and misunderstanding, of not recognizing the signposts of the Way, or mistakenly supposing that another’s way must be your own as well.” Pope An was more confident now, making her words ring as she spoke. “It is not for you to seek salvation, for there is nothing from which you need to be saved. You are not in need of rescuing: you are in need of an accurate map. You are not pawns of God, who must accept every whim of fate by guessing what is expected of you, and accepting with resignation and shame when you fail to guess correctly. Nor are you masters of the world, required to answer for all of it, and accountable for the acts of those around you. You are beholden to no one but through gratitude, and you are obliged to no one but through love. You are each seeking the Way, where you may walk in beauty, as Jesus told the Apostles they would so long as they were on the Way.”

  The crowd was restless now, hearing her with a steady murmur of comment.

  “I do not wish to tell you what you must do. It is not for me to find your Way.” Pope An smiled, her face luminous. “I urge you only to be aware that where you walk the Way there will be no blame. If you lose the Way, then you will be swayed by signposts that lie, and from such lies you will come to confusion, and blame will ensue.”

  There were a few shouts from the crowd now, and the people listening were beginning to mill.

  “I don’t like this,” said Dionigi Stelo to his assistant. They were near the entrance to the Square, discreetly surrounded by Vatican Security and Swiss Guard in anonymous grey uniforms instead of their Renaissance kits.

  “Who does?” answered the Commendante of the Swiss Guard.

  “No, I mean the way the crowd is behaving. I knew we required more protection than what we have.” Stelo lowered his head. “They’re expecting us to be especially vigilant. If this crowd gets out of hand later, or there is any vandalism, then—” The shame he felt marked his features. Ever since Carlo Urbi had been very privately arrested, Stelo had felt increasingly vulnerable. “We must take care that nothing happens to that woman, nothing.”

  “We have our guards posted, and the Eurocops are lending us extra men,” said the Commendante. “If we did more, it would look very peculiar.”

  Stelo shook his head. “Possibly.” He clapped his hands together. “Have you heard anything more about Urbi?”

  “Nothing dependable,” answered the Commendante. “There are always rumors, but so far, nothing has come of them.”

  “They say he won’t be tried, not in court. According to Cardinal Ochoa, he is to remain within the Vatican.” Stelo scowled.

  “I’ve heard that,” said the Commendante.

  “Do you suppose it’s true?” asked Stelo, but the Commendante had no answer for him. “They’re saying he could implicate others, much higher up. If that’s the case, no wonder they want to keep it private.”

  “Let me remind every one of you that sin is not crime.” Pope An paused to allow this a little time to sink in. “Crime is a deliberate act against the laws of man, and it reflects a moral laxness more than sin does. What has become the burden of Christians everywhere is a confusion between the two. Sin is not deserving of punishment, but of understanding. Crime is deserving of punishment. It is from crimes that we seek pardon, not from sin, for the blame of sin is not the blame of the law.” She regarded the crowd. “That is not to say that sin cannot lead to crime, for we have seen this occur. Those who are on the Way do not commit crimes. Crime has no attraction for those who have the Way in their hearts. Those whose sin leads them to crimes may come to seek salvation, by which they wish to escape the consequences not of their sins but their crimes.”

  Cardinal van Hooven smiled, his eyes huge behind his glasses.

  “How are we to deal with this?” Dionigi Stelo asked the Commendante.

  “As best we can,” said the Commendante, turning his eyes upwards in mock resignation. “It’s all of a piece with her.”

  From the balcony, Pope An continued. “There are many references to the feet of those who follow the teachings of Jesus Christ being beautiful or blessed. That is because they were on the Way, and because of that they had no blame. Those who have found the Way have found beauty, and from that comes the truth you seek. If you see the beauty, you will always know the Way. Your steps will be light on the Way. You would call that state without blame that is on the Way as being in a state of Grace. It is achieved by the course you take, not by the words of priests or the morals you are taught, but by integrity of conduct and being on the Way. The Way is without pride, and without despair; the way is humble without humility and exalted without aggrandizement. The Way does not lead to a goal but is a goal in itself, and those who are upon it know this in their hearts. Therefore, as we come to the Mass of Christ, I tell you that you can go from this place without sin, not because of anything I say, or your priests say, but because you are no longer lost and have set yourselves on the Way.”

  The crowd was making a great deal of noise now; a dozen Vatican Security men moved to tactical locations around Saint Peter’s Square.

  “Set your feet on the Way, and leave your confusion behind. Follow the Way and you will have no occasion for blame.” Once again Pope An smiled and her black eyes shone. “As Jesus told the woman who was a prostitute, so I will say again to all of you: turn away from the confusion of the lost and resume your steps without blame on the Way.”

  “The Fundamentalists are going to faint over this one,” said Cardinal Mendosa in an undervoice.

  “To say nothing of our own conservatives,” added Cardinal Cadini. “Well, I suppose we’re going to have a lively press conference when this is over.”

  Pope An made one last statement over the clash and clamor from the Square. “It is the task of the Church to help you find your Way. If the Church fails to do this, then it is to be blamed, for it is not on the Way itself. Walk your own Way, and you will find rest for your innermost selves.” With that she made the sign of blessing and stepped back.

  “Lordy, Lordy, Pope,” said Cardinal Mendosa as Pope An signaled him to come to her side. “I think it’s wonderful, but you’ve gone and opened another can of worms for sure.”

  “Can of worms?” she repeated.

  “Created another tangled mess, bless your baby-browns,” said Cardinal Mendosa with affection. “Not that I mean you shouldn’t. Everything you said struck nerves, and that’s long overdue. I only mean that we’re going to hear a lot about what you just said. And for Christmas, too.”

  “That is a strange assumption, but you know these things better than I do,” she said, watching the crowd below. “How long will it take them to clear the Square, do you think?”

  “It depends on how everyone reacts. That includes Vatican Security and the Eurocops they have on loan. They could make it quite a job. If the crowd’s feeling belligerent, it might take quite a while. If you scared them, then they’ll probably wander around for a while before they go. If they want to get out of here, then cut the time in half.” He folded his arms. “What made you tackle sin?”

  “So much of what everyone says starts with sin,” she said. “Most of the scholars in the Church are caught up with it. I don’t understand sin. If one is responsible for incorrect actions, then there is blame and guilt by reason of law. But that is not what most of the writers mean.” She frowned a little, and the lines that had begun to deepen in her face were sharply marked. “I wanted to know why they wrote such things. When I was told about the meaning of sin, at the first, then it was clear to me that I had a duty to clarify these meanings with the Catholics of the world.” She touched her tiara. “I hope I can remove this soon. It is very heavy and I don’t like it much.”

  “Makes sense,” said Cardinal Mendosa, adding on another note, “When are we expected t
o gather for the wedding?”

  “Half an hour before,” said Pope An. “It will be in the Cappella di San Michele, on the right side of the Papal altar.” She stared down into the Square. “Look at them, so bewildered and angry. Why is it that they become so upset? You would think that being released from the guilt they have been taught to dread would be welcome, and yet they are behaving as if they have been deprived of a treasured friend.”

  “Some of them have,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “There are Catholics who embrace their guilt with such frenzy you would think it was a lover.” He looked around the balcony. “You can see it in the College of Cardinals as much as anywhere.”

  “You are speaking of Cardinal Hetre?” she suggested.

  “He’s one of the more obvious,” said Cardinal Mendosa. “But Cardinal Ochoa and Cardinal Dellegos and Cardinal Tondocello also have that in them—perhaps not to the degree that Cardinal Hetre does.” He had kept his voice low, but now he raised it. “I am very pleased that you have taken the time to define sin. That will change how many Catholics look upon their lives, with luck.”

  “I hope so,” said Pope An. She noticed that she was being beckoned inside. “We had better let Vatican Security do their work.”

  “Of course,” said Cardinal Mendosa, following her into the small reception room behind the balcony where the other Cardinals had gathered. He took advantage of their little privacy to add, “I hope this will get some of the clergy off your back, Worthy Magistrate, but I fear that there are some who will balk at what you’ve said.”

  “Some have balked all along,” said Pope An philosophically. “It may be that their Way leads them to resist these changes.” She removed the tiara and carried it tucked under her arm, an action that earned her the condemning stares of five of the Cardinals gathered in the reception room. She paid no heed to them, but requested that Sister Euphemia be sent for to relieve her of the tiara, then looked at Cardinal Mendosa once more. “I did not understand, when you came to me in Hongya, how vast the work was that needed doing. You warned me, but I didn’t know why. Now I wish to thank you for the care you give me.”