Chapter Ninety-three

 

 

The Lateran Palace

 

 

The flight of Queen Adelheid from Verona, Mathilda’s defeat of Heinrich near Canossa, and the unexpected alliance of Conrad with Mathilda reversed the political landscape for Pope Urban II and Gregorian Catholics, who months earlier had been standing at the edge of collapse. Sensing opportunity, upon Tristan and Handel’s departure to Constantinople, Pope Urban immediately marched on Rome in hopes of quickly ousting anti-pope Clement. Clement’s partisans tenaciously defended and held on to the strong parts of the city, knowing that neither Mathilda nor Conrad could yet spare troops to assist Urban’s effort to take over Rome. Many Romans also thought Heinrich’s defeat at Canossa to be a temporary setback for the German king, and were convinced that his army would quickly rebound as he had so frequently in the past.

Consequently, a strange period followed where Pope Urban took up residence in Rome within a fortress near the Palatine Hill belonging to the ever faithful Frangipani family. Despite the fact that Odo was now at least back in Rome, the ensuing period proved to be the most piteous of his papacy. Years of war and managing the papacy in exile had utterly depleted his finances, and had also incurred a huge amount of debt through borrowing to reinforce Gregorian allies in the fight against Heinrich. Consequently, he was forced to depend on the charity of others. Help arrived in the form of donations from various sources, most notably the French Abbot Gregory of Vendome, and Pope Urban managed to somehow keep his papacy afloat during these meager days in Rome.

This state of limbo continued month after month with both pope and anti-pope both residing within Rome under an uneasy peace. As the year 1094 dawned, a most unusual and unexpected thing occurred: The Governor of Rome, deciding that Heinrich would soon lose his hold on Italy completely, offered to surrender the Lateran Palace to Pope Urban on payment of a large sum of money. The Lateran Palace had originally been given to the Catholic Church as a gift by Constantine, the first Christian Roman emperor. In the year 324 it was dedicated by Pope Sylvester who declared it to be “Domus Dei”... “The House of God.” The Papal Throne was placed within its interior, thus marking it as the Cathedral of Rome, and from that time on it also served as the residence of the Pope.

This offer by the Roman governor to oust the anti-pope from the Lateran Palace for money was tantamount to a huge bribe in exchange for handing Rome over to Pope Urban. In essence, it made far more sense than conducting another protracted military battle within Rome for the papacy. Lacking funds, Urban was forced yet again to seek charity if he wished to complete the proposed transaction. Again Abbot Gregory of Vendome was among the first to come forward, selling his monastery’s possessions in order to further Urban’s cause. This alone did not provide enough revenue to satisfy the greedy Roman governor.

Word of the Pope’s plight also reached the citizens of Genoa. Few appeared to show much interest in Urban’s dilemma except for one individual in particular, the single wealthiest citizen of the city. Thus it was that la Gran Signorina sailed to Rome in the company of an old woman dressed in black and a financial representative by the name of Salvetti.

Several days later, gaining admittance into the Frangipane fortress, la Gran Signorina was given a private audience with Pope Urban.

“Ah, Signorina,” said Odo, “such a pleasure to finally meet you after our exchange of correspondence this past month. And how can I ever thank you for your kind offer of assistance?” Then, looking at her curiously, he added, “I must confess, I expected someone much older.”

“After a series of difficult trials, God decided to finally show me some kindness,” she replied, her demeanor dark. “He graced me with wealth upon the death of my husband, and then also when I moved to Genoa led me into an extremely profitable partnership with an old acquaintance of yours, Duke Bernard Bertucci.”

“Ah, Bertucci!” said Odo. “Yes, I had hoped that he might step forward in this time of need.”

“Step forward? Oh, no, he is little interested in your predicament at the moment. I am here on my own, Holiness. God has seen fit to fill my purse after my earlier years of scratching scraps from the tables of others, I have determined that I shall now return that gesture by helping you bribe your way into the Lateran Palace.”

Struck by the baldness of her words and the manner in which she delivered them, Odo nodded without smiling. “For the good of the true Church,” he said.

“No, not for the good of the true Church, nor even for your own benefit for that matter, Holiness.” Then she gave Odo an odd look and tilted her head a bit. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Odo started to reply, then hesitated, running through his memory. “No,” he finally said.

“I met you as a child once at Cluny while you were serving as Grand Prior,” she said, her dark eyes piercing him. “I found you to be frightening. Then I met you again six years ago at Canossa after nearly freezing to death crossing the Alps. You frightened me also at that time.”

The mention of nearly freezing in the Alps, Odo remembered her, but made no gesture of acknowledgment. Instead, he slid back in his seat a bit and put a hand to the side of his temple, recalling the details of that long forgotten encounter. Then nodding, he returned his hand to his lap as she continued.

“I came seeking assistance for my infant, an old woman, and a man named Fernando,” she said, “but my baby and Fernando froze to death before reaching Canossa; they are both buried there. I stated my case to you and Countess Mathilda, but doubting my intentions, you shunned me, as did the Countess. You know, as I look back, it would have taken so little for either of you to pull me from hopelessness and despair, but I never saw you after our conversation, and the Countess would have nothing to do with me until Vincento Balducci took me from her fortress.”

Odo’s neck began to show a slight trace of color as he shifted in his chair. “Your arrival at Canossa was a shock to us, Gran Signorina, and...”

“My name is Mala,” she interrupted. “Please call me Mala, I am no more of a great Signorina than yourself. I am a poor Romani girl who once danced for a living.”

“Very well, as you wish. I was saying, we were not prepared to hear such preposterous news as you delivered that day in Canossa. The reason you did not see me again is because I did as I said I would, I went immediately to Monte Cassino in search of the father of your child, who you claimed was Tristan de Saint-Germain.”

“And?”

“I learned that you were telling the truth, much to my dismay. Tristan made no denial. Know this, he never knew that you were with child when he last saw you. Learning of the baby and its fate, he renounced his Benedictine vows before storming out of Monte Cassino in search of you. I was told later that he found you, but that you refused him. Now I am curious. You came here offering assistance in this business over the Lateran Palace, yet you stated you are not doing it for me, nor even for God. Why then are you considering such a thing?”

“For Tristan de Saint-Germain,” she said without hesitation. “You see, though I both see and acknowledge the sheer futility of my feelings, I still love him more than life itself. I have loved him since we first met, though we were very young. I would never expect you to understand that; I myself don’t even comprehend the possibility of such a thing, nor does Tristan. I have suffered in his absence nearly my entire life, and I suffer still.

“And though I’ve resented your pull on him since childhood, I know that you have been a guiding light in his life and that he loves you as a father. Therefore, I shall help you secure the Lateran Palace and Rome only because of my undying devotion to Tristan. I made a horrible misjudgment about Tristan years ago in Marseilles; I listened to others rather than rely on my own faith in him. That misjudgment cost me all hope of happiness, the life of my child, the life of my faithful friend Fernando, and gave rise to endless confusion and misery for the man I love above all else on this earth. As I was once told, the merciless hammer of God fell upon me though I did nothing more than love a man who loved me.

“And though this man was a monk, it was only by chance that he had fallen in as a child with reformist Benedictines such as yourself at the Cluny monastery after being abandoned by his mother. For centuries and centuries monks and priests have married and had children, and even now in much of Europe they still do. My misfortune and Tristan’s misfortune is not God’s law, but Gregorian law, which is a fabrication invented by overzealous men of recent history, such as yourself, who are so blinded by their own vision of God that they forbid love, or marriage, or family for the very servants of God, the clergy, even though God never made such demands on his own twelve apostles. Though men such as you insist that Tristan’s time with me was illicit and sinful, it was the most joyful time of my life; the only joyful time of my life.

“I realize that due to this, he has chosen to return to the Church. It is all he knows… that is all you taught him. And he will remain faithful to that Church now, I suppose, though in his heart he knows the rest of his days will be tainted with regret and loneliness… and so will mine.” Saying this, the firm resolve she had shown fell away as a single tear began to stream over her cheekbone and slowly work its way down her face to the corner of her mouth.

This touched Odo, as had her expression of love for Tristan. “In light of what you feel and what you believe,” he said, his voice subdued, “it would be disingenuous of me to accept your offer of assistance, Signorina. Therefore I cannot possibly…”

“No, my gift stands, and you shall remain forever silent about its source,” said Mala, standing to leave. “What I have shared with you today has been like a killing poison that I’ve harbored in my heart for six years now. By speaking my peace to you, I’ve finally shed the venom. With what has been given by others, my sizeable contribution will put you, after all these years, upon the Papal throne. And Holiness, you shall accept my gift if for no other reason, than an acknowledgment of what you have done to a small boy of seven who was placed in your care at the Benedictine monastery of Cluny many years ago.” Then she paused a moment, and stared deep within Odo’s eyes. “I ran into him recently by chance in Genoa,” she said, with a touch of bitterness. “I tried to take him back from you, but he recalled his childhood. He was a boy when he came to you, and he never had a chance to be anything else but a reflection of yourself, a Benedictine monk out to stamp his own vision upon the world. I hope you are happy. Remember this, if the opportunity ever arises, and he slips from your grasp, I shall not hesitate to claim him again for my own.” Mala turned then, and quietly left the room.