Multiple Races, Multiple Faiths - 6
The conversation I had held in the Pope's study had been quite something.
"The Church has only one Lord," he had said, "but I mean to acknowledge that the continent has several."
Even I, whose faith was so thin it barely deserved the name, had been startled. With the World Tree revived and Constantina, goddess of another race, descended once more, it was only natural that the Dawn Church would take a different line from before. When gods and their gifts that had long been invisible were beginning to show themselves again, clinging to the old position would only mean sinking into one's own contradictions.
Still, I had assumed that "different line" would remain thoroughly Enen-centered. It was the Dawn Church that had spilled endless blood and won the Religious War. It was the Dawn Church that had reigned as the continent's mainstream faith for centuries upon centuries. So I had half-expected them to treat Constantina not as an independent divinity, but as a subordinate deity of Enen, or at best a guardian spirit.
"Believers who worship her, and a culture that is distinctly their own, are standing there with their eyes open," the Pope had continued. "By what right would we demote a rightful god? Enen Himself respected Constantina. We who serve Him need only follow His will."
But the Pope was not that sort of man. He did not demote Constantina. He recognized her as the god of another community of faith—as a divinity in her own right.
It was astonishing. Of course, Constantina was the goddess of the elves, a people so few that "a handful" was almost an overstatement beside humanity, so recognizing her as independent did the Dawn Church little practical harm. Far too many years had already passed for the Church to be shaken by a heresy now.
Even so, for the Dawn Church—built on monotheism—to acknowledge a god other than Enen was a radical declaration. It might not matter at once, but someday that choice could rock the Church's supremacy.
"Are you certain you'll be all right?" I had asked. "For now it ends with Constantina, but other gods may yet show themselves again."
"If we teach rightly and do good," he had answered, "what is there to fear even if heresies overflow? We have already been chosen by the people once."
The Pope's words, soft and yet unyielding, had left even Trixie stunned. I was from another world and still could hardly believe it; how much worse for her?
"Sadly, not all of our brethren share my view," he had added. "Which is why, at this Ecumenical Council, they will avoid any mention of the World Tree as far as they can and bring other agenda items forward first."
If the World Tree came onto the Council floor, they would have no choice but to acknowledge Constantina as a god. A World Tree revived after centuries, and the descent of a deity, were arguments that would leave even the hardline conservatives speechless. But if they kept wrangling over other matters instead, they could at least delay a decision.
Delay as long as possible, flood the Council with endlessly debatable items, and when the neutral cardinals were exhausted from fighting over everything else, they would be more likely to back a conservative option than the bomb of "acknowledging another god"—that was the Pope's explanation.
In short, it was a race against time. Force the World Tree through from the opening of the Council, and the Pope won. Block it, and the conservatives won.
So that's why it looks like this.
The hellscape that had erupted the moment the session opened was for that reason. From the conservatives' point of view, they had to seize the atmosphere before the word "World Tree" ever left anyone's mouth if they were to keep Constantina from being recognized as an independent god.
Conveniently, the reform proposals the Pope hoped to pass at the Council were already well known among the conservatives. He had been passionately championing them since the day of his enthronement; not knowing about them would have been stranger. So the conservatives were leading with the Pope's—and by extension the progressive faction's—agenda items and staging a spectacular circus of obstruction.
Though I had not expected the circus to escalate into open cursing. You could have told me this was a back alley and I would have believed you, not an Ecumenical Council.
"What the faithful gathered in this place are debating," I said the moment the Pope granted me the floor, "is so important to the Church and to the proper faith of the continent that even someone as ignorant as I can dare to guess at it."
In any case, I opened my mouth the instant leave was given.
I liked the Pope's intent, and having made acquaintance with the elves—including my maternal grandmother—I could not stomach the idea of Constantina being reduced to a mere guardian spirit or subordinate deity. If she were demoted before my eyes, how could I ever look my grandmother in the face again?
"Unfortunately, however, I am a man of the secular world. Part of me longs to listen to a debate that will shape the future—but I bear a duty to serve the Empire and its people, and so I must return home with all speed."
And so I spoke in a way that put weight behind the Pope. His expression brightened still further; the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith quietly closed his eyes.
"I therefore beg that the matter of the World Tree be taken up first."
The bold, blunt request left a brief silence hanging. In a one-sided setting such directness might have been called rude, but when a guest you yourselves invited says, I'm busy—hurry it up, refusing becomes awkward. Rude or not, I was busy. What were they going to do about it?
"His Grace is right," the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith said, breaking the silence.
The man most likely to be the obstacle speaking first made me tense without meaning to. He said it was right, yet his position required him to delay discussion of the World Tree as long as possible. What rhetorical fence would he throw up against me—
"We have been remiss, keeping a busy man waiting. As the Apostle has said, let us begin with the World Tree. No agenda item, whatever it may be, can be set above a god."
?
What?
The tension flipped into pure bewilderment. He not only accepted my opinion without a fight, but with his own mouth mentioned "a god" and all but signaled that he would treat Constantina as an independent divinity.
What was this? What on earth? Hadn't he been called the head of the conservatives? Hadn't he been staging every possible circus until a moment ago precisely to stop Constantina?
Confused, I glanced at the Pope. His expression was pure gentleness—as if he had known it would turn out this way.
...
Well, all's well that ends well.
The moment I saw that mild face, I let it go. There was clearly some circumstance I didn't know about.
From the moment of Apostle Count Tailglehen's request, I abandoned the hardline approach. If blocking it was pointless, the only thing left was to ride the current. I could not dig in my heels for nothing and grind away the Church's strength.
"We will recess for a short time," announced the Prefect of the Congregation for Church Records, who was serving as secretary. "We reconvene in two hours."
A bitter smile came of its own accord. By the original plan, we should still have been driving the Council with hardline rhetoric.
It's over.
Every plan had gone awry. All I could do now was apply the brakes for a result that was at least a little less radical.
Yes—a little less radical. That the Church would move forward in a shape different from everything that had come before was a reality I could no longer deny.
A reality in which we must acknowledge as gods beings other than our Lord, and erase with our own hands the history of victory our predecessors painted in blood.
This, too, must be the Lord's arrangement.
I let out a quiet sigh. If an Apostle favored by the Lord supported the Pope's will, was that not also the Lord's arrangement? Then a servant must follow.
"Your Eminence."
"Hm?"
I left the chamber with rather heavy steps, and the conservative cardinals who had been waiting for me drew near.
Judging by their faces, none of them looked pleased; they seemed to be thinking much the same as I was.
"You must be tired—why not rest a little instead of waiting on this old man? Showing off how spry you are because you're younger than I am, is that it?"
I tossed the joke their way.
"Are you going to leave it like this, Your Eminence?"
But for all the effort I put into the humor, the answer that came back was stiff.
Truly the end times. Young men younger than I, and this dull and humorless.
"Then what do you propose we do? Who could have guessed His Holiness would even win over an Apostle? His Holiness has a fine touch, I grant you."
"Your Eminence!"
"My ears still work."
At the curt reply, the cardinals' faces darkened further.
"...So we are to dismantle with our own hands the glory our predecessors built, and share the fragments with heresy?"
"My friend."
"Are we to deny the one Lord with our own mouths and set up another?"
The words, bitter and full of rage, drew another wry smile from me.
How could I not understand that feeling? I had opposed His Holiness's claims with the same heart. We were about to acknowledge a rival god who could stand against Enen, sole Lord of this continent and all its peoples, and deny the glory our predecessors had piled up with their blood.
"It is the Lord's arrangement," I said.
Even so, we had to follow. An Apostle favored by the Lord had backed His Holiness's will. The World Tree had revived under that Apostle's watch. If this was not the Lord's will, what was?
"And you saw it yourselves. Even the cardinals who had kept to neutrality have begun to support His Holiness. We are outmatched now both in justification and in numbers."
"That is..."
"Do not reject majority rule. They, like us, hold reverence for the Lord and devotion to the faithful. If we failed to persuade them, then we must yield to their opinion."
At the word "yield," the cardinals who had been showing their discontent one by one let out resigned sighs.
A natural reaction. If one refused majority rule, how was one supposed to hold a debate at all? If the outcome of debate displeased you, were you to go start a household of your own?
Ridiculous.
We opposed His Holiness's reforms in order to protect the lofty name of the Lord. And for the sake of that opposition we would tear the Church in two? That would only foul the Lord's name further.
If anyone so much as mentioned a schism or independence, I would be first in line to recommend his excommunication to His Holiness. Cardinals exist for the Church; the Church does not exist to be wrecked for a cardinal's private will.
"If you understand, go back and rest. The World Tree is only one item drawing to a close. There is still a mountain of agenda left, is there not?"
"Yes, Your Eminence."
I watched the cardinals trudge away, then turned. In the two-hour recess I, too, had much to think over.
I will have to give up the next papacy.
Undeservedly, my name had been spoken among the candidates for the next Pope—but with the Council looking certain to close according to His Holiness's will, the right thing was to withdraw.
Once the Council passed, reform would proceed along progressive lines. If a conservative like me became the next Pope, how smoothly would those reforms advance? I would go down in history as the incompetent, stubborn Pope who ruined a critical moment of change for the Church.
That I did not want. Being recorded as a pigheaded old man I could accept—my conduct had earned it—but I had no wish to be the Pope who wrecked the Church.
In the end, you win.
A laugh escaped me. His Holiness had been nothing more than a Pope elected so that cardinals worn out by the previous Pope's reforms could catch their breath for a while. And that Pope had brought an Ecumenical Council to heel. Life was something else.
How on earth did he persuade the Apostle?
Turning over the decisive cause of our defeat, I walked on.
Was the Lord truly watching over His Holiness after all?