'The laws and beliefs of the Catholic Church are also ancient, Princess, yet the Synaxis would have me cast them aside. They claim it is to build a greater, unified Church, but just as you say, I am reluctant to destroy something so ancient, so beautiful.' The Synaxis at last, Sofia thought. The other guests fell silent and leaned forward to hear her reply.
'You would not be destroying the beliefs of the Church,' Sofia countered. 'You would only be adding to them.'
'And what if I grant the Synaxis' requests and they still refuse union? I will have humbled the Church for nothing, and perhaps ruined any chance of ever achieving a true union.' Assent echoed down the table. Only Bessarion kept quiet.
'What you say is true,' Sofia replied. 'The Synaxis might still reject union, even if you accept all their demands. But then the emperor will be free to force the Union through, even if he has to remove every bishop in the Synaxis. They will be unable to stop him, for they have already agreed to union on these terms by signing the letter.'
'If only I could be as sure as you are, Princess, that Emperor Constantine would indeed enforce the Union even over the complaints of his clergy.'
'If Leontarsis were not ill, I am certain that he would be here to pledge the emperor's word. But, since he is not, I will pledge it myself as ambassador of Constantinople.' Sofia offered a silent prayer of thanks for Leontarsis's absence. He would have promised no such thing, and in doing so would have ruined all of her hard work.
Nicholas nodded. 'Very well then,' he said. 'I believe that this matter is settled. After the details are attended to, I shall hold an audience where I will recognize the desires of the Eastern bishops, as a prelude to a true union of the Church. I do hope that Leontarsis will be well enough to attend that meeting.' Nicholas winked. 'In the meantime, let us begin dessert, and there is a question that I have for you, Princess, concerning our friend Aquinas…' The audience the pope had promised came sooner than Sofia had expected, only three days later. Sofia was visiting the studio of the famed painter Vittore Pisano when a messenger entered and told her that she was to come to the pope's audience chamber immediately.
Sofia found Leontarsis wringing his hands as he waited for her outside. 'Do you know why we were summoned so suddenly?' Sofia asked. 'Is the pope ready to officially recognize the Synaxis' demands?'
Leontarsis shook his head. 'I thought we were still weeks away from any declaration. Yesterday, we were still working out the exact language of how the pope would be referred to in the unified Church.'
Far above, in the tall square tower of St Peter's basilica, the bells began to toll the hour of noon, and the doors swung open before them. Sofia's eyes went first to the pope, sombre on his throne, and then to the man standing beside him, the man whose presence explained the suddenness of this audience: Gregory Mammas, Patriarch of Constantinople.
Sofia and Leontarsis reached the throne together and made their obeisances before the pope. Nicholas gave them a brief, strained smile, and then bid them rise. 'Leontarsis, Princess Sofia,' he began. 'Your presence at our court has been most welcome, as have been the kind words that you have brought from Emperor Constantine. Know that you will both always be welcome in Rome.' Both Leontarsis and Sofia bowed in recognition.
'You have offered wise council, and we have had much to reflect on,' Nicholas continued. 'In light of all that we have heard and learned, both from you and from the recently arrived Patriarch of Constantinople himself, we declare and decree, in the name of God the Father, the following response to Constantine, Emperor of the Romans.'
A tonsured priest stepped forward and began to read from a sheet of parchment: 'If you, with your nobles and the people of Constantinople, accept the decree of union, you will find Us and Our venerable brothers, the cardinals of the holy Roman Church, ever eager to support your honour and your empire. But if you and your people refuse to accept the decree, you will force Us to take such measures as are necessary for your salvation and Our honour.'
Sofia frowned. The pope's declaration was even worse than she had feared. It was a wholesale rejection of the Synaxis and all they had asked for. 'But Your Holiness,' Sofia protested, 'this will only strengthen the Synaxis. What of your decision to accept their demands?'
The pope only shook his head; it was Mammas who answered her. 'The Synaxis and the people who follow them are fools and heretics. They will never agree to union,' he said. 'Giving in to their demands will only make them bold and sanction their unholy attempts to usurp the power of the patriarch. If they will not willingly join the Union, then they must be made to join. There can be no compromise with such people.'
Sofia ignored him and addressed the pope again. 'You would turn your back on Constantinople then? You are abandoning us to the Turks!'
'No,' Nicholas sighed. 'You yourself said that Constantine has the power to force the bishops to adhere to the Union. I agree with Mammas. It is not reason that prevents the Greeks from accepting the Union, but stubborn pride. Let Constantine force their adherence, and then we will send what aid we can to your city. Until that time, we cannot help those who lie outside of the Church. The fate of Constantinople is in God's hands.' Nicholas paused, and when he spoke again his voice was softer. 'I am sorry, Princess, but I cannot place even your advice over the word of the patriarch. He knows his flock better than you or I ever could.'
Sofia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She bowed and strode from the room, not even waiting for the pope's dismissal. Once outside the audience chamber, she leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, her head in her hands. She had failed. This entire trip had been for nothing. One ship each from the Venetians and Genoese, and now no help from Rome. They might as well have never come.
'Princess?'
Sofia looked up to see Mammas standing above her, shifting awkwardly. 'What do you want?' she snapped.
'I see you are upset with the pope's decree,' Mammas said. 'You must forgive me, then, for bringing yet more bad news. I know that you were close to the empress-mother. She died just before I left Constantinople.'
'What?' Sofia asked. How could this have happened? With Helena gone, there was no telling what Constantine would do, whose influence he would fall under. Sofia stood to look Mammas in the eyes. 'How did she die?'
'Shortly after you left, her illness worsened. The empress-mother dismissed her doctors and confided herself wholly in God. She refused to receive anyone other than Constantine and her confessor. Unfortunately, her condition worsened rapidly. I understand that she was rarely lucid over the last few weeks, but she received extreme unction before she passed.'
Sofia could only nod as tears filled her eyes. She had lost Helena, her friend and protector, and Constantinople had lost the pope's blessing. The palace around her and the city outside suddenly seemed painful and foreign. Whatever awaited her in Constantinople, Sofia was ready to return home.
Chapter 9
Sitt Hatun sat cross-legged amidst a profusion of cushions, surrounded by an evening meal fit for a sultan. Low stools were arranged in a semicircle before her, and on each sat a copper dish heaped with food. To begin, there were roasted almonds, dried apricots and tangy dolma – vine leaves stuffed with onions, rice, dill and mint, all mixed in lemon juice. Then there were the side dishes that formed the backbone of any Turkish meal, prepared in the harem kitchen with unparalleled skilclass="underline" a cool, creamy yoghurt dip; a basket of freshly baked girde, a crisp flatbread that melted in the mouth; and a huge platter of boiled rice drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with black pepper. The main dishes were a whole roasted chicken, with golden skin and tender meat falling from the bone, and Sitt Hatun's favourite, nirbach – a rich stew of diced lamb and carrots flavoured with coriander, ginger, cinnamon and pomegranate syrup. To drink, she had a pitcher of refreshing ayran, a mix of yoghurt and water flavoured with salt and mint. The mix of pungent smells made her stomach rumble, but she did not eat.