Pope Joan_ A Novel - Donna Woolfolk Cross [203]
Gerold had no better liking for the idea of Anastasius as Pope than she did, but her safety was his first concern. He said, “There will always be some reason or other to keep us from leaving, Joan. We cannot delay forever.”
“I will not abuse the people’s trust by leaving them in his hands,” she replied stubbornly.
Gerold had an almost irresistible impulse to simply pick her up and carry her off, away from the web of danger that was tightening around her. As if sensing his thoughts, Joan quickly spoke again.
“It’s only a matter of a few days,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “Whatever Lothar’s purpose is in coming, he’s unlikely to stay any longer than he needs to accomplish it. As soon as he’s gone, I’ll leave with you.”
He weighed this for a moment. “And you’ll offer no further argument against leaving?”
“No further argument,” Joan promised.
THE next day, Joan waited on the steps of St. Peter’s while Gerold rode out to greet Lothar. Sentries were posted all along the Leonine Wall to keep watch.
A short time later the cry went up from the wall, “The Emperor has arrived!” Joan ordered the gate of San Peregrinus opened.
Lothar rode in first. Anastasius was at his side, brazenly wearing the cardinal’s pallium. His high-browed patrician face registered a look of haughty pride.
Joan acted as though she were oblivious to his presence. She waited on the steps for the Emperor to dismount and come to her.
“Be welcome, Majesty, to this Holy City of Rome.” She extended her right hand, the one that bore the papal ring.
Lothar did not kneel but bent stiffly from the waist to kiss the symbol of her spiritual authority.
So far, so good, she thought.
The first rank of Lothar’s men parted, and she saw Gerold. His face was taut with anger, and around his wrists was a tight cord of rope.
“What is the meaning of this?” Joan demanded. “Why is the superista bound?”
Lothar replied, “He has been arrested on a charge of treason.”
“Treason? The superista is my loyal helpmate. There is no one I trust more.”
Anastasius spoke for the first time. “The treason is not against your throne, Holiness, but the imperial one. Gerold is accused of conspiring to return Rome to Greek control.”
“Nonsense! Who makes such an unfounded charge!”
Daniel rode out from behind Anastasius and fixed Joan with a look of malignant triumph. “I do,” he said.
LATER, in the privacy of her room, Joan bent her mind to the problem, trying to think of a way to respond. It was, she realized, a diabolically clever plot. As Pontiff, she herself could not be put on trial. But Gerold could—and if he was found guilty, she would be implicated as well. The plan had the mark of Anastasius all over it.
Well, he won’t get away with it. She set her chin defiantly. Let Anastasius do what he could. He would not prevail. She was still Pope, with power and resources of her own.
29
THE Great Triclinium was a relatively new addition to the Patriarchium, but it was already rich in historical significance. The paint on these walls had only just dried when Lothar’s grandfather Karolus Magnus and Pope Leo III met here with their followers to forge the epic agreement that would raise Karolus from King of France to Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire and change the face of the world forever.
The fifty-five years that had passed since then had done nothing to dim the splendor of the hall. Its three large apses were paved with slates of flawless white marble and adorned with finely hewn columns of porphyry carved with decorations of marvelous complexity. Above the marble revetment, the walls were covered with colorful murals depicting the life of the apostle Peter, each drawn with wondrous artistry. But even these marvels were outshone by the great mosaic that rested over the arch of the central apse. In it St. Peter was depicted magnificently enthroned, surrounded by a round saint’s nimbus. To his right knelt Pope Leo and to his left Emperor Karolus, each one’s head surrounded by a square nimbus, the sign of the living—for they