Pope Joan_ A Novel - Donna Woolfolk Cross [202]
“By the time they do, we’ll be well away. And they’ll be looking for two men, not a simple pilgrim husband and his wife.”
It was a daring plan, but it could work. Nevertheless, she resisted it. “I can’t leave now. There’s still so much I want to accomplish here, so much that needs doing.”
“I know, my heart,” he said tenderly. “But there’s no other choice; surely you must see that.”
“Wait until after Easter,” she offered. “Then I’ll go with you.”
“Easter! Why, that’s almost a month away! What if someone guesses your condition before then?”
“I’m only four months along. Under these great robes of mine, I can keep the pregnancy hidden for another month.”
Gerold shook his head emphatically. “I can’t let you risk it. You must get away from here now, while there’s still time.”
“No,” she answered with equal conviction. “I won’t leave my people without their Pope on the holiest day of the year.”
She’s frightened and upset, Gerold thought, and therefore not thinking clearly. He would go along with her for the present, having small choice, but quietly he would make things ready for a quick departure. If at any time danger threatened, he would whisk her away to safety—by force if necessary.
ON nox magna, the Great Night of the Easter celebration, thousands of people crowded in and around the Lateran cathedral to join in the celebration of the paschal vigil, baptism, and mass. The long service began on Saturday evening and would continue into the early hours of Easter morning.
Outside the holy cathedral, Joan lit the paschal candle, then handed it to Desiderius, the archdeacon, who carried it ceremoniously into the darkened church. Joan and the rest of the clergy followed after, chanting the lumen Christi, hymn to the light of Christ. Three times the procession paused on its way down the aisle while Desiderius lit the candles of the faithful from the paschal candle. By the time Joan reached the altar, the great nave was ablaze with a thousand tiny flames, their flickering light reflecting dazzlingly off the polished marble of the walls and columns in dramatic representation of the Light brought into the world by Christ.
“Exultet jam angelica turba caelorum. Exultent divina mysteria!”
Joyously, Desiderius began the Exultet. The time-honored chant, with its beautiful and striking ancient melody, rang in Joan’s ears with special poignancy.
I will never stand before this altar and hear these sweet sounds again, she reflected. The thought brought a strong sense of loss. Here, amid this inspiring celebration of redemption and hope, she came closest to experiencing a true faith in God. “O vere beata nox, quae expoliavit Aegyptios, ditavit Hebraeos! Nox, in qua terrenis caelestia junguntur …”
EXITING the cathedral at the conclusion of the mass, Joan saw a man with torn and mud-stained clothes waiting on the steps. Taking him for a beggar, she signaled Victor, the sacellarius, to give him alms.
The man waved off the proffered coins. “I am no alms seeker, Holiness, but a messenger, come with urgent news.”
“Let’s have it then.”
“Emperor Lothar and his army are marching through Paterno. At the rate they are traveling, they will be in Rome in two days’ time.”
A murmur of alarm rose from the prelates standing nearby.
“Cardinal Priest Anastasius rides with him,” the messenger added.
Anastasius! His presence among the imperial entourage was a very bad sign.
“Why do you call him Cardinal Priest?” Joan asked reproachfully. “Anastasius no longer has claim to that title, being excommunicate.”
“Beg pardon, Holiness, but so I heard the Emperor address him.”
This was the worst news of all. The Emperor’s disregard of Leo’s sentence of excommunication was a direct, unmistakable defiance of papal authority. In such a frame of mind, Lothar was capable of anything.
That night, discussing this turn of events, Gerold pressed her again to keep her promise. “I have waited until after Easter, as you wished. You must leave now, before Lothar arrives.”
Joan shook her head. “If the papal throne is vacant when Lothar arrives, he will