Godsent by Richard Burton

Author:Richard Burton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2011-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Father O’Malley couldn’t believe his luck. After he’d brought news of the miracle to Cardinal Ehrlich, the old man had entered the private residence of Pope Peter II without dismissing him. He hadn’t dared to leave on his own authority, and so had waited on tenterhooks for the return of the head of his order, the man who was the oldest and closest friend of His Holiness and, thanks to that, the most powerful man in all of Christendom after the pope himself. As the minutes stretched, he couldn’t stop himself from strolling about the richly appointed antechamber, which was a virtual museum of art and artifacts, some of which, he knew, were priceless, utterly unknown to scholarship or presumed lost or destroyed over the centuries. It was a veritable treasure trove: oil paintings by Titian, da Vinci, and Picasso; a small bronze equestrian statue by Rodin, a mother and child by Michelangelo; leather-bound volumes by Machiavelli, Tielhard de Chardin, and John Paul II. It was an eclectic collection, to be sure . . . but that only made it seem all the more wondrous to him. He felt like Aladdin in the cave of the forty thieves. Only, unlike Aladdin, he knew better than to try and steal anything. He didn’t even dare slide one of the books out and open it. Such was the discipline of his order. And his fear of Cardinal Ehrlich.

At last, after twenty minutes or so, the cardinal returned, looking harried, his gray eyes sunken. He seemed annoyed to see O’Malley. “What, you still here?”

O’Malley bowed low. “Pardon, Your Eminence. I wasn’t sure if you had dismissed me.”

Ehrlich waved a skeletal hand. “No matter. You’re here now. Watch and learn. But hold your tongue unless His Holiness addresses you. Is that understood?”

He bowed again. As he looked up, the pope entered the room, drying his hands on the front of his robes. Pope Peter II was the first American to be raised to the Throne of St. Peter, and also the first in the history of the Church to take the name of the first pope, which he had done, he said, in order to demonstrate that Rome under his papacy would be hostage no longer to either superstition or senseless tradition, and that, after two thousand years, it was past time to pay proper homage to the great apostle whom Christ himself had placed at the head of the Church. The sixty-three-year-old pontiff cut an imposing figure, much beloved of cartoonists: No more than five-six, he was hugely, almost grotesquely fat, and as a consequence he moved with the slow deliberation of a tortoise. Yet the mind within that monumental flesh was supple and quick, as his opponents and enemies, both inside and outside the church, had discovered to their regret.

“Your Holiness,” said Cardinal Ehrlich brusquely as the pope cast a questioning glance toward O’Malley, “one of my young priests, Father O’Malley, a devoted servant of the Congregation and of Christ. He brought the news from Grand Inquisitor.

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