Pope Joan_ A Novel - Donna Woolfolk Cross [168]
The first order of business was to fortify the city’s defenses. At Leo’s behest, Gerold undertook a thorough circuit of the walls, making careful note of every point of weakness. Following his suggestions, plans were drawn up and the work of repairing the walls and gates of the city began. Three of the gates and fifteen of the wall towers were completely rebuilt. Two new towers were constructed on opposite banks of the Tiber where the river entered the city at the gate of Portus. Chains of reinforced iron were strategically connected to each opposing tower; when the chains were stretched across the river, they formed an impassable barrier to ships. The Saracens would not be able to gain entry to the city by that means at least.
There still remained the difficult question of how to protect St. Peter’s. To consider the problem, Leo convened a meeting of the high clergy and the optimates, including Gerold and Joan.
Several suggestions were put forth: posting a permanent garrison of militia around the basilica, enclosing its open portico, fortifying the doors and windows with bars of iron.
Leo listened without enthusiasm. “Such measures will only serve to delay a forced entry, not prevent it.”
“With respect, Holiness,” Anastasius said, “delay is our best defense. If we can hold the barbarians back until the Emperor’s troops arrive—”
“If they arrive …,” Gerold interrupted dryly.
“You must trust in God, Superista,” Anastasius rebuked him.
“Trust in Lothar, you mean,” Gerold said. “And I do not.”
“Pardon me, Superista,” Anastasius said with exaggerated politeness, “for pointing out the obvious, but there is really nothing else we can do at the moment, since the basilica lies outside the city walls.”
Joan said, “We can bring it inside.”
Anastasius’s dark brows arched sardonically. “What do you propose, John—moving the entire building stone by stone?”
“No,” Joan replied. “I propose extending the city walls around St. Peter’s.”
“A new wall!” Leo’s interest was sparked.
“Wholly impractical!” scoffed Anastasius. “So great a project has not been undertaken since the days of the ancients.”
“Time, then,” Leo said, “for another.”
“We haven’t the funds!” Gratius, the arcarius, or papal treasurer, protested. “We could bankrupt the entire treasury, and the work still wouldn’t be half done!”
Leo considered this. “We will raise new taxes. After all, it is only fitting that the new wall, which will serve for the protection of all, should be completed with the help of all.”
Gerold’s mind was already racing ahead. “We could begin construction here”—he pointed to a map of the city—“by the Castel Sant’Angelo. Run the wall sideward up the Vatican Hill”—he traced an imaginary line with his finger—“circle it round St. Peter’s, and bring it down in a straight line to the Tiber.”
The horseshoe-shaped line Gerold had drawn enclosed not only St. Peter’s and the monasteries and diaconae surrounding it but also the entire Borgo, in which were located the teeming settlements of the Saxons, Frisians, Franks, and Lombards.
“It’s like a city of its own!” Leo exclaimed.
“Civitas Leonina,” Joan said, “the Leonine City.”
Anastasius and the others looked on with chagrin as Leo, Gerold, and Joan beamed in happy conspiracy.
AFTER weeks of consultation with the master builders of the city, the design for the wall was completed. It was an ambitious project. Formed of layers of tufa and tiles, the wall would stand a full forty feet high and twelve feet wide and be defended by no fewer than forty-four towers—a barrier that could withstand even the most determined siege.
In response to Leo’s call, workers poured into the city from every town and colony of the papal campagna. They crowded into the hot and overcrowded tenements of the Borgo, straining the city’s resources to the breaking point. Loyal and eager though they were, they were untrained, undisciplined workers, and their efforts proved difficult to organize. They showed up each day uncertain