'How do you know' Bernaba Minerbetti?'
'From Bologna. She ran the courtesans there. She went to Bologna over thirty years ago with Baldassare Cossa, when he was sent there to study law.'
`Cossa!' Spina shouted. `He was the one! He pinned that note to me! Cossa was the boy who defiled me!' he shut his eyes tightly to impress that image upon his memory. 'How do you know this?’
'Bernaba told me.'
`Where is she?'
'If you arrange what the bank asks, you will be serving many important ends, Eminence. Your own interest first, of course, before all others.'
`You can deliver Bernaba to me?'
`I can, either tell you where she is or I can deliver her.' `How can you do that?'
'Eminence – she works for me.' 'In Konstanz?'
'You frightened her badly when you saw her from the procession yesterday. She was so frightened that she fled to Bari. She left me a letter saying that her mother was dying. But she won't go there. Bernaba is over fifty. Her mother is long dead.'
Spina pounded on the arm of the chair. `Then where is she?’
'The bank's needs come first, Eminence.’
"I will do it. Give me two days, then the Medici can expect a message from the French.'
`Bernaba will be in Bologna in six days' time but you cannot go to Bologna. You are needed in Konstanz and must be here,' 'You will bring her back?'
`If the meeting is held, yes.'
`Nothing must go wrong, with this,' he said.
After midnight, when she was sure the marchesa was asleep, Signora Melvini left the house by the servants' entrance and made her way through the town to the Broadlaube, five streets away, into Engelsongasse to my house, the deanery of Albrecht of Beutelsbach. I was waiting for her. We sat by the fire and drank warmed wine as she reported Cardinal Spina's visit to the marchesa. When I had heard her story, I dressed myself in warm outer garments and we walked to the cathedral area, where she returned inside the marchesa's house. I went into the episcopal palace.
Cossa was busy with his chamberlains when I came into the room. He concluded the business and sent them away.
I told him what had been said at the meeting of the marchesa and Spina. Cossa kept his eyes closed as he listened. There was a long moment before he was able to speak. `That is that,' he said. `She will not do any more harm.'
`She was only after 'the same thing you were. Always money, Cossa.'
`I got them money! I made her rich! I transformed the Medici into Croesus when I transferred the Church's banking to their bank' More than that-' At last he opened his eyes. `She is finished.' He clenched his hands before his face in the attitude of prayer. `And it will cost Cosimo, too. Who do we have inside Cosimo's household?''
`No one.'
`Use raw gold florins. Have Palo do the bribing.'
`Signora Melvini would be better. She knows all the servants in the principal houses here.'
`Good. She has two days to have, them ready and rehearsed. Her people must be in place in Cosimo's house to report on that meeting. Franco, please do not be distressed. We will protect Bernaba, but you must bring her back from Bologna. She will be our bait.'
`Where is she to go when she gets back?'
`To the marchesa, of course. Now in your letter to Bernaba, which must go out tonight, tell her that the marchesa's courier will bring her a message telling her to return and giving a plausible reason. There is nothing to worry ablaut. She will not be harmed. We will destroy them. Please, leave me and send the letter.'
54
Cosimo di Medici received the four prelates at his small elegant house, formerly the Haus zum Goldenen Backen, in the Bruckengasse off the Minsterplatz. Attending him were Cardinals D'Ailly and Spina of France and Italy, Bishops, Weldon and Von Niem of England and Germany, and Chancellor Gerson of the University of Paris. They, were the leaders of the reform party which opposed the papal party in the council. They stood for the reorganization of the Church in its head and its members, for establishing a single true pope, for passing laws which would prevent a future schism, and for complete reform of the curia. Cosimo had always been happy for them to get their kind of reform as long as he got his: one pope, one obedience.
Cosimo made them welcome. He was forty-five years old, a man of enamelled kindness and enforced gentility. He spoke to them. `You may see me, because I am a banker, as being removed from
wonderment at the glory of our Church, but that is not the case. I agonize to save the Church and to smash the, schism within it, needs which can only be served through reform.'
Cardinal D'Ailly reassured him. 'If it should seem, dear sir, as if we do not need your counsel in matters of the spirit, the fact is that we must look to you for an explanation of the realities of this council.'
There was a low murmuring of approval from the other members.
They were all seated in chairs which described a general circle within the room. Spina breathed shallowly. Bishop Weldon wished for a sweet drink. Gerson, as always, seemed to be assembling his arguments. D'Ailly packed himself into the security of wondering how much money this man must have.
`At the outset,' Cosimo said, 'on the surface, it would appear that I am an Italian.'
The prelates smiled at his little joke.
`But, before I am an Italian, I am a European whose interests are alone the interests of Europe: to make Europe strong so that it may serve the Church. Man does not live by the Holy Spirit alone. He must have bread. The stability of the establishment which makes that bread, finances the distribution of that bread and provides that bread – and I am speaking of the European business community depends upon the end of the schism and the return of our Church to the leadership of a single pope.'
'John XXIII?'
'No.'
`You were among his strongest advocates for the papacy at Pisa, and when you persuaded him to accept the papacy at Bologna,' Gerson reminded him.
Cosimo passed a hand across his eyes. `I could weep for that.'
`John XXIII is a godless pope,' Spina said. Everyone nodded
`His godlessness is at the core of the hopelessness of the entire congregation,' Cosimo murmured. 'If he sees fit not to confess, how should the sheep in his flock respond?' If he neglects the mass, what doubts are thrown upon the mass across Christendom? But let me speak out from my own province – Pope John XXIII has very nearly bankrupted our Church.'
`Nonetheless,' D'Ailly said, `he holds the deciding, votes of the council.'
'That is why we are here, my devout friends,' Cosimo answered him `The method of voting at the council must be changed. If following precedent, heads are counted, then John XXIII must win and continue to strip the Church of he glory of God. They have the votes. He has brought an army of Italian churchmen with him for that purpose. The English Church, however – for one example – is represented by so few delegates that their rights and desires must be banished from any consideration.'
`That is all well and good,' Bishop Weldon said, 'but how else can a council of the Church vote?`
'I have put my best people on the problem, my lord. The council's voting must be done by nations – an equal number of deputies from each nation to have the final decision. The Italians would include under their aegis Cyprus, Constantinople, Bosnia, Turkey and Tartary. Similarly, the Germans, with whom are united the Bohemians, the Hungarians, Poles, Scandinavians, Croatians and Russians, would vote as one nation. The English nation would include the Irish, the Scots, Medes, Persians, Arabs, Indians, Ethiopians, Egyptians and Ninevahns. The French have already amassed over two hundred of their own delegates; and, lastly, the Spaniards who sooner or later must join this council – would also represent Portugal and Sicily.'