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"There is something peculiar going on here in Augusta, and I fear
I can no longer trust my nobles and officers."
"You never could trust them," said Bandinegri. "What causes them to be even
less trustworthy than usual?"
"Have you heard of the Church of Rome?"
"Of course," said the warlord, puzzled. "It was the ecclesiastical state that
controlled the Flavians centuries ago. My ancestor Baglioni
Bandinegri, the first warlord of our line, was a renegade bishop of that
Church. What has the Church of Rome to do with your problems?"
"Several weeks ago, two men, priests of the Church of Rome, appeared
in the city. One established contacts with a prominent gangster, then with
Malatesta Capelli, and now he's among my sister's entourage. I suspect him of
plotting to assassinate me and put my sister on the throne. The other has been
rabble-rousing among the scum of the city, raving about an end to slavery and
the games. Both these men were brought here from somewhere outside the system,
by way of Titus, which has been having illicit extrasystem dealings for
years."
"So," said Bandinegri, "you suspect that Rome has made a comeback and is
trying to regain her lost territories?"
"What else? And what better way than to depose the reigning autocrat and
install a puppet who will do as they dictate?"
"Why not just plow in here with ships and men and take over?"
"I think they may be militarily weak, at least this far from the center of
their empire. It's not the Church I worry about now, but how far they've
spread their insidious doctrines on my home world. I know they've subverted a
member of my own bodyguard. He's no danger, I have the control to his neck
ring, but what of the rest of my court? What of my army?"
"The answer's simple enough: Get rid of your sister. Kill the bitch and
they'll have no hope of putting a sympathetic ruler on the throne." The
warlord fumed at the boy's density.
"I have personal reasons for keeping my sister alive, at least for a while."
"Then kill the rest of them!" said Bandinegri, exasperated. "Arrest the lot,
toss them into the arena, and have them dismantled by a few constructs. It'll
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get rid of your enemies and serve as a wholesome and salutary example to the
populace."
"But there may be others I don't know about. I have to have time to plant
spies among them."
"And just what do you want me to do in the meantime?"
"Since I can't trust my forces any more, I want to increase my force of
constructs. I know I can trust you, because our interests are the same.
There were two things the Church of Rome was unalterably set against, even in
the later, decadent days: private war and the creation of constructs. If they
take over here, it's the end for you as well as for me."
That was true enough, the warlord had to admit.
"Yes, I remember the doctrine: 'Usurpation of Divine Function,' I
believe it was. No, we certainly don't want the Church back in the system and
spoiling all our fun. Who's your intelligence source for the doings of these
priests?"
"I have my spy system, and Lord Capelli told me about the interview he had
with one of the priests. He's been most helpful."
I'll bet he was, thought the warlord. That explained a lot. He knew that
Ilya hadn't the brains to figure all this out by himself. And when the matter
of the Church and the unfortunate sister were taken care of, Ilya would be
taken care of, and all hail Consul Mala testa Capelli! Definitely, Capelli was
the man he would have to deal with. He'd make a better consul than this clown,
anyway.
"Good enough, then," said Bandinegri. "I'll send to Cadmus for constructs and
officers. They'll be here in a few days, and I'll take personal charge of them
when they arrive."
"Excellent! I'll have a suite prepared for you in the palace."
"That won't be necessary, Your Grace. I have a villa outside the city." It
would serve, thought the warlord, as a much better place than the palace to
hold a few very private meetings.
Father Miles, austere in his black robe, stood in the pulpit of St. Cyril's.
A large audience was gathered in the pews to hear him speak. Behind him stood
Father Stavros and Brother Jeremiah, plus a handful of priests from other
near-deserted churches on Charun.
In the choir loft, heavily veiled, sat the Princess Ludmilla, guarded by
Parma, who was off duty.
"Parma," said the princess, "doesn't Father Miles realize that a crowd
this size must contain my brother's spies?"
"Assuredly, my lady. I believe that little gambler Luigi has identified at
least ten."
"Then why does he go on?"
"This is a public meeting, my lady. Father Miles is not trying to keep his
origin or intention secret any longer. It seems he wishes to force the
consul's hand."
"I fear he will be most successful."
Father Miles was pleased with the turnout. He knew that he was the prime
source of gossip among the lower population. The stories of his miraculous win
at the "Rainbow's End" and the skirmish with Curio's men had grown with the
telling: At last count, he had defeated twenty thugs single-handedly. And it
was common knowledge that he had become a prominent figure at court; he
planned to make full use of his publicity. He gaged the tension of the crowd,
and when it reached the proper pitch, he began to speak.
"People of Augusta, I have not come among you to teach you to gamble or to
fight. I am here, sent by an authority whose power you cannot even imagine, to
tell you of what you were, and what you may yet become. You have seen some
trivial manifestations of that power, and they are so slight that one day you
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will laugh that you ever thought them impressive. I am here to take you away
from the life of idleness, the meaningless existence you now lead, and to
bring you back to the knowledge of the Living God, whom you rejected so long
ago."
There was some stirring and fidgeting among the audience. Obviously, a lot of
those people out there liked a life of idleness just fine.
"Out there," he pointed skyward, "is the realm of the reawakened
Rome, so vast that your mind could not comprehend it. This Flavian
System was once a part of that great unity, but it has fallen by the wayside.
Still, God wishes the return of his strayed people, and Rome will open her
arms to you if you will only return to her."
"You are the people who went out to conquer the stars a hundred generations
ago, and look at you now!" The voice was concentrated scorn.
"Men turned away from God and began to worship wealth and power.
They reveled in the degradation of their fellow men. They usurped the powers
of God, creating imitation men, which they were unable to give souls or
the»power of morality, the divine spark. Men began to lose their spirit, their
drive; they fell into stagnation; even their numbers began to decrease. Look
about you! This once-great city is now home to less than one tenth of its
former population. Its remaining people, you, live in idle despair. You have
exalted the trivial, the foolish, the petty, the worthless, while condemning
the true, the essential, to oblivion. Slaves do the work that you should be
doing. Men fight and die for your entertainment because you have lost the
ability to enjoy anything but horror. As a people, you approach utter [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]