Siege

'I shall be glad to meet him,' Sofia replied. And indeed, she would, particularly if Bessarion had the ear of the pope. 'But I do not believe that he could have much to teach Your Holiness.'

The pope smiled. 'Your words are kind, but, as pride is the downfall of man, I shall be forced to disagree.' He picked up the letter from the Synaxis and tapped it nonchalantly against the arm of his throne. 'Princess, Leontarsis, the friendship of the Greek emperor is most welcome, as are you both. You will join me for dinner tonight, when we will discuss this letter of the Synaxis. Until then, I must ask that you excuse me.' The pope rose and left the room amidst respectful silence. As soon as the door closed behind him, the room burst into noisy life, courtiers grouping in clumps to gossip and politic. Leontarsis went straight to a chamber-pot in the corner to relieve himself.

'I thought that went well,' Sofia said to him when he returned. 'The pope seems well disposed towards us.'

Leontarsis merely grunted his affirmation. No doubt he was already preoccupied with that night's dinner, where he would bear the brunt of the pope's outrage over the letter of the Synaxis. Sofia hoped that he would not say anything foolish. Constantine had instructed Leontarsis that he was not to support union unless the pope agreed to all the demands of the Synaxis. The pope would not react kindly to such an intransigent stance, and Leontarsis had little skill for sweetening harsh words. Indeed, it might be better if Leontarsis were not present at the dinner.

'Leontarsis, are you feeling quite well?' Sofia asked him.

'Much better now, yes,' he responded absently.

'I rejoice to hear it, because if you fell ill before this evening's meal,' she suggested, 'you would not be present tonight when the pope discusses the letter of the Synaxis. You would have to postpone your meeting with him until he has had more time to reflect.'

'What? Sick?' Leontarsis asked. His confusion vanished. 'Yes, I am feeling rather poorly. I am not sure that my seasickness has quite passed. Would you do me the honour of representing me at the pope's table tonight and expressing my regrets?'

'Of course,' Sofia replied. That was one problem solved. But there was still the letter to deal with. How to make the pope understand that the only way to deal with the Synaxis was to call their bluff? Perhaps Cardinal Bessarion could be of help. Indeed, he looked like the only hope that she had. A little over an hour later Sofia followed a young priest into Bessarion's study, a square room occupying one of the upper floors of the papal palace's south tower. Books filled the room, overflowing the bookshelves and covering much of the floor as well. In the centre of the room a desk floated amongst the sea of books, and seated at the desk was Bessarion. The ageing scholar's appearance contrasted sharply with the clutter of his study. He was immaculately dressed in the red robes of a cardinal, his white hair cut short beneath a red skullcap and his white beard neatly trimmed. He looked up from the manuscript laid out before him, and his face brightened. 'Princess Sofia, you are most welcome,' he said, his voice quiet and deep. 'I have heard great things of you.'

Sofia curtsied. 'Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Your Eminence. You do me great honour.'

'Please, call me Bessarion. "Your Eminence" is far too lofty a title for an old man such as me,' he replied with a smile. 'Now, Princess, I presume that it is not questions of scholarship that have brought you to me. You wish to discuss union and support for Constantinople, I have no doubt. Of course, you know that the pope wishes to give what aid he can, so long as the Union is enforced. But I must warn you, this letter of the Synaxis has not helped your cause.'

'You have read the letter, then?'

'Yes. The pope summoned me to him as soon as he left his audience with you. The letter left him quite upset. He is very clear where he stands. The pope will never agree to another council, nor will he agree to a union in which he is not the absolute head of the Church.'

'And what do you think?' Sofia asked.

Bessarion shrugged his shoulders. 'Me? What does it matter what an old fool like me thinks?' It mattered very much indeed, Sofia thought. Bessarion was the only person with enough influence to convince the pope to support Constantinople. After a pause, Bessarion continued. 'I think that union is good for the faith, and good for the empire. I have always believed that. That is why I am here in Rome. That is why I am a cardinal. I also believe that Constantinople must be helped. It is not so very far, after all, from Constantinople to Vienna, or from Vienna to Rome. If we could have aid for Constantinople without union, then I would be for that. But that is not to be, and I understand the pope's reluctance. Nicholas is more concerned with the Church than with Constantinople. If he could be convinced that the Union will be implemented, then he might act. But after this letter from the Synaxis, I fear he will be very hard to convince.'

'But not impossible?'

'Nothing is impossible with God's help, my child,' Bessarion replied. 'But God will have to work a small miracle to change the pope's mind. I am not so sure, however, that the pope is wrong. My fellow bishops ran me out of Constantinople for supporting the Union, and just look at how they have treated poor Patriarch Mammas. I do not believe that union is possible as long as such men control the Orthodox Church.'

'I agree,' Sofia concurred. 'But what if these men were not in power? What if we could break the Synaxis?'

Bessarion nodded. 'Go on, Princess. You have my attention.'

'Give the Synaxis what they want,' Sofia said. 'That is the way to break them.'

Bessarion frowned. 'I'm not quite sure I follow you.'

'The bishops of the Synaxis draw all of their strength from their opposition to the Union,' Sofia explained. 'Agree with them on the small issues, and they will be forced to agree with the Union. Once they do, they will lose all of their power with the people.'

'But these are hardly small issues. Surely you are not suggesting that the pope agree to the doctrine of the equality of all bishops, or that he deny one thousand years of teaching and accept that the Holy Spirit proceeds only from God?'

Sofia nodded emphatically. 'That is exactly what I am suggesting. The pope must condone the Greek liturgy, overlook any theological differences, and at least formally accept the equality of all bishops. If he does all of this, then the Synaxis will have no choice but to embrace the Union.'

'But what you ask for is nothing less than a complete renunciation of the Roman Catholic position!'

'Not a renunciation, Bessarion,' Sofia insisted. 'A compromise, and a temporary one at that. The important thing is that the pope will retain real control of the Church. In a few years time, once the people have grown used to the Union, then he can reverse his decrees and slowly bring the Orthodox Church into line with the Latin Church. This is the only way that union can be achieved — slowly, or not at all.'

'There are others who have thought as you do,' Bessarion mused. 'But you ask much of the pope. I know what Nicholas will say to this. Is not protecting the truth of God to be placed above whatever secular gains the Union might bring about? I wonder the same.'

'But what does the truth matter, if there is no one left to teach it to?' Sofia replied. 'If Constantinople falls to the Turks, then any chance to save the Greeks will be lost. Surely it is better for the pope to bring the Orthodox Church into the fold, however imperfectly, than to leave it outside true salvation forever.'

'Enough, enough,' Bessarion said. 'You have made your point, Princess. I will discuss what you have told me with the pope.'

'And?'

'And,' Bessarion smiled, 'I will do my utmost to ensure that he finds your arguments convincing.' Dinner that night was held in the pope's private dining room around a table that accommodated only ten guests. The room was decorated on three sides with frescos depicting the deaths of saints, and the paintings seemed to come alive under the flickering candlelight. The fourth side of the room was lined with arched windows looking out on the lights of Rome, burning brightly in the clear February sky.