V
V
Caterina is under house arrest in the Pope's palace, Abel is in the dungeon, and the two of you came back? Have you no shame?" the holographic nun shouted from the center of Caterina's empty desk. Her image flickered repeatedly as she shook her head, looking sad. "What unreliable people you are! Ah, poor Caterina. If only I could be with her."
"There's nothing anybody could do in that place," the large priest lazing on the guest sofa answered despondently. He groaned sulkily. "I'm just a weak pretty boy, right? And then there's this pistol-user over here. The two of us can't fight a war all by ourselves."
"I have no intention to perform combat actions for an outsider." Tres' voice, which was colder than usual, made Leon think of a frosted sword. "If not for his temporary transfer request, I would have erased Nightroad with my own hands."
"That's . . ." For an instant, the nun flinched as if she were afraid. "Isn't Abel your comrade? Aren't you being a little harsh?"
"Negative, Iron Maiden." Gunslinger was leafing through a thick file that he'd brought into the office; he didn't look at her as he spoke. "Nightroad refused to do his duty; moreover, he caused profound harm to his superior. He merits deletion."
"I won't have that kind of talk!"
"Well, calm down, both of you." Leon pushed off the sofa, forcing his way between his two coworkers. He went to the window. "This is no time to quarrel, is it? As for that bungling priest . . . this time, I sincerely pray that he rests in peace."
"He's not dead!"
Leon shrugged. "Never mind what happens to him. What are we actually going to do? With the Duchess of Milan sequestered in the palace, we've been driven into a corner. Moreover, we're being watched."
Through the cracks in the blinds, Dandelion looked down at the street and gave a wicked smile. The coach parked on the corner belonged to the city police. The guards lurking on the roof of the building next door probably worked for the Carabinieri or the Ministry of Inquisition.
"This is the VIP treatment. Should we try asking them for room service?"
"Our followers — huh?" Kate's brows furrowed. "Telegram coming from outside. This is an emergency message. Oh, and I'm so busy already!" she grumbled before disappearing.
"She's a restless one. So, Tres, what have you been reading?"
"It's the record of investigation into the Archbishop of Cologne's jurisdiction. It was supplied by intel." In mere seconds, Tres scanned a file the size of a dictionary, accumulating a heap of material in front of him. "I'm analyzing the actions of Archbishop Alfonso over the last five years."
"Alfonso. Isn't that old man on the level? Didn't you see him a little while ago, too? What harm could he do?"
"Affirmative. However, Crusnik had reason to suspect him. He had to have some kind of basis for that suspicion. What are you laughing at, Dandelion?"
Leon finished chuckling. "It's just . . . after everything, you trust him. You're a good guy."
"Negative. I'm incapable of understanding. Request you re-input."
"Don't feel awkward."
"Feel awkward? I'm incapable of understanding. Re-input."
The nun suddenly came back in the middle of the room. "It's an emergency!" She almost thrust her hologram image into Leon's opened shirt. Turning pale, she threw her head back and shrieked at her clumsiness.
"Rude, aren't you? Do you hate men with chest hair that much?"
"W-wait a minute, the sight is making me nauseated." Kate paused. "Ah, no, this is no time to be talking about such stupidity!"
"How is my chest hair stupid?"
"Shut up already! A message from Gypsy Queen just came from Barcelona! They've completed the recovery of Sister Noelle's body, but—"
"Is there a problem?"
As if in answer to Tres' question, a scrap of paper appeared in Kate's hand. "This is the drawing that Noelle grasped just before she died."
The three-dimensional drawing spread out inside the hologram was of a certain building. Every child in Rome could recognize it. Actually, Leon and Tres had been there recently.
"Isn't this the San Pietro Cathedral? What's this all about?"
"Please, look carefully here. Don't you think something's wrong? Right in the middle of this plaza . . ."
"Here, you—huh? What is this?" Leon's eyebrows shot up as he peered into the nun's hand.
Tres glanced at the same thing; then, he turned to Kate. "Confirmation needed. Iron Maiden, this certainly was in Barcelona, wasn't it?"
"Yes!"
"If so . . ." Gunslinger stood up, his blue eyes flashing ominously. "The Duchess of Milan and Crusnik have been drawn into a trap."
***
Belvedere Palace was a tasteful baroque building located inside the Vatican. Adjoining a museum that contained numerous masterpieces, it was used chiefly as lodgings for the common lords who visited as guests of the Pope.
In one of its luxurious private rooms, Francesco paced back and forth, sighing. "I am very sorry about tonight, Uncle. It was due to our ineptitude." The cardinal, who rarely showed emotion, had hung his head low all night.
"It's over already, Nephew." Alfonso was all forgiveness. "It was my unworthiness that caused my niece to suspect me. Please, don't blame Caterina."
"I won't concede that. Our only uncle, she insulted—"
"Yes, your only uncle. You saying that is enough for me." Shaking his head, Alfonso placed a wrinkled hand on his nephew's shoulder. "We are family, so please treat Caterina leniently. Since she was a child, she always had a strong sense of responsibility. This time she just carried it too far."
"I can't promise it for certain, but . . ."The wrinkles carved between Francesco's eyebrows disappeared. "I'll tell my sister that you said so, Uncle."
"Please do."
The great cardinal bowed and left.
Alfonso stood by the window for a little while. His eyes still gentle, he looked out into the night. "Your only uncle, eh?" Suddenly, his lips broke into thin smile. "You betrayed your only uncle! Are you coming, Mager?"
"Ja." Alfonso's shadow moved across the carpet. It writhed like a living person, rising, growing thicker. When it stood, pulling lines of blackness to its center, the shadow changed into a man with long black hair. "Isaac Fernand von Kampfer, at your service. What do you require, Your Grace?"
Despite such a strange spectacle. Alfonso didn't bat an eyelash. In fact, his expression was haughty. As he gazed down at Wizard, Alfonso looked completely different from the man he had been with his nephew a short while ago.
"Kampfer, it was right to use a dummy as you proposed. Indeed, Caterina has good subordinates. Stay alert."
"The priest has been thrown in jail. He cannot interfere with Your Grace." Kampfer's tone was respectful. His thin lips stretched in a clever smile as he spoke with a slight Germanic accent. "Nobody can stop tomorrow's operation—not even God."
Alfonso narrowed his eyes as he looked out the window. "Five years was a long time to wait."
The cathedral and the plaza, enclosed by pillared halls, were well lit. In the center of the plaza, the huge obelisk that pierced the night sky and the chain of dazzling gas lamps that fanned around it resembled a rosary of diamonds laid out on black velvet. This metropolis never slept. The sounds of banquets and parties rode on the night breeze.
"The city is as beautiful as ever. The city is as polluted as ever. The people are polluted by idolization. The church is weakened by comfort. The cardinals are accustomed to laziness. The unworthy children who shame my great brother, Gregorio—they are responsible for this! The world is too difficult for them to control properly!"
Quietly, but with cruel candor, Kampfer pointed out: "Five years ago, the cardinals betrayed Your Grace, siding with those squabbling siblings. They were afraid of Your Grace, II Furioso. They knew that if Your Grace were to succeed to Pope, they would be expunged. They are shrewd."
"All that ends today. Both my enemies and this Babylon will disappear soon. Nobody can escape the Vineam Domini—the iron hammer of God! I will build a new fortress in my town, one devoted to God."
His plans were in place. The preparations to move the capitol to Cologne were eighty percent complete. In addition, the list of church workers who would be appointed new cardinals was full. All of them were true believers, people who adhered to righteousness. They would swear loyalty to the new Pope and bring about God's country on Earth. As long as they and their rightful ruler existed, the Vatican would be indestructible—even if Rome should disappear.
"Wicked Babylon . . . this city should be destroyed in the name of God and righteousness," II Furioso whispered to Rome and the people living there.