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Chapter 56 - North and South

CONCLAVE, DECEMBER 1669: A Clash of Doctrines, god's inspiration ? Or diabolic inspirations ? Maybe it's madness ? 

Within the confined, tense chambers of the Sistine Chapel and adjacent conclave cells. The cardinals are deep in difficult deliberations. 

The earlier presentation of proofs regarding the Inquisition's temporal destabilization has created a palpable disquiet 

Cardinal Flavio Chigi (Moderate/Reformist Faction, grandson of Alexander VII: Deeply pious, respected, driven by profound concern for the Church's spiritual integrity. Cardinal Barberini Zelanti/Pro-Inquisition: A staunch defender of the Holy Office and traditional Church authority. 

 

Cardinal Flavio Chigi rises, his face etched with a mix of sorrow and righteous anger. He stands with the gravitas of a man speaking with a burdened conscience. His voice, while firm, carries the weight of a spiritual suffering. 

CARDINAL CHIGI: 

"Your Eminences, we have heard the grave reports of temporal ruin, of coffers emptied, of navies and armies weakened, all under the shadow of the Holy Office's zeal. These are matters of state, yes, but they betray a deeper, more grievous spiritual illness at the core of our most sacred institution. I confess, when I contemplate these actions, I am led to a most unsettling conclusion, one that pains me deeply to voice in this sacred conclave." 

"I suspect the Inquisition ... takes itself for the very 'angel of Laodicea' – that is blasphemy enough to outrage most Christians, not only Catholics! For a servant to assume the mantle of God's direct messenger, to judge and rebuke the very flock of Christ, including its anointed heads—the Pope himself, if he was to waver—that is a pride far exceeding mere human folly. It is a spiritual hubris that threatens to splinter the very unity we profess!" 

"And as for their obsessive pursuit of 'purity' based on lineage, their relentless scrutiny of 'conversos' bloodlines, their preference for a punitive, Old Testament retribution... I confess, it leads me to a most chilling suspicion. By their very reverence for the 'Juda's tribe' – their obsession with its ancient law, its very blood – they are failing to maintain Christianity's true integrity. Indeed, Eminences, does not Sacred Writ warn us against such misplaced reverence for the earthly roots when the heavenly truth has been revealed? God chose Saul to lead His people, Israel, and the judes chose David from Judah, and i quote: " . Yet these Inquisitors, in their zeal for a purely human lineage and a merciless law, seem to choose David and his tribe as their sole guide, human tradition practice,almost as if they have entered into a form of perverse Judaism themselves! They speak of cleansing, yet their methods cling to the roots they claim to despise. 

Their zeal, Eminences, is a poisoned fruit from a corrupted tree. It is a faith, steeped in this peculiar obsession, that veers closer to the synagogue's legalism, to the letter that kills, than to the truly grace-filled Church of Christ, which lives by the Spirit that gives life." 

Cardinal Chigi concludes, his gaze sweeping across the stunned faces of his fellow Cardinals.  

The silence that follows is profound, weighted by the gravity of his spiritual condemnation. 

Cardinal Barberini, a prominent defender of the Holy Office, rises slowly. The silence that follows Chigi's accusations is thick with outrage, as a profound theological error has been uttered.  

When Barberini's voice finally comes, it is no longer just cold, but imbued with a profound, almost terrifying certainty, utterly dismissing Chigi's well-meaning concerns as dangerous error, now verging on heresy itself. 

CARDINAL BARBERINI, his voice resonating with an unshakeable conviction, each word a hammer blow: 

"Your Eminence, Cardinal Chigi! Your words, though cloaked in pious concern, now descend into outright heresy! To suggest that the Holy Office partakes in some 'perverse Judaism' because it upholds the truth of Christ's lineage is an abomination! 

You question the Lion of the Tribe of Judah? You question the Son of David? Are you so lost in your intellectual sophistry that you deny the very cornerstone of Christian prophecy and fulfillment?" 

While Cgifi contemplated his own words,and the othercardinals stayionf in somewhat stuporfromthe sgift of their zealouspreaching of their own countries and benefits, Bardini continued 

"God chose Saul, you say, a Benjamite ? And the people chose David ? Your historical recitation is flawed, Eminence, and your theological conclusion is an apostasy! David, of the Tribe of Judah, was chosen by God through Samuel's anointing! He was the man after God's own heart, a king who foreshadowed the Messiah! It is from his lineage, the Royal House of Judah, that Our Lord Jesus Christ himself sprang! The Gospel of Matthew, which you so boldly cite, begins precisely by tracing this sacred genealogy, affirming Christ as the Son of David, the King of the Jews! To reject this, to prefer the failed lineage of Saul, is to reject the very prophecies of the Messiah! It is to deny the fulfillment of God's promise! This is not 'Judaism,' Eminence, it is the foundation of Christianity itself!" 

 

Chigi said then : " and God put the people to the test : woulf you betrayyour king ? Andtheydid.... " his decision was taken by then, while Bardini not eve listeninh, like a true authentiv inquisitor, that will never learn and know only the brutal ways 

"You claim our faith is 'closer to the synagogue'? No, Eminence! Our faith is the hammer that shatters the remnants of the synagogue's stubborn refusal to accept Christ! We safeguard the integrity of Christianity by ensuring that no 'Judaic' leaven, no heretical compromise, ferments within the Church's sacred dough. If any are 'contaminated' it is not we, but those who, like yourself, in their misplaced compassion, are so blinded by political expediency and worldly reputation that they cannot discern true faith from treacherous dissimulation. You accuse us of a 'corrupted tree'? Perhaps you should examine the very roots of your own misguided liberalism, for they bear the bitter fruit of compromise with error, which is the true danger to our Universal Church! And for such dangerous thoughts, a man, even a Cardinal, should indeed consider himself 'cleansed' – not by persecution, but by a renewed study of sound doctrine and unwavering obedience to the Chair of Peter!" 

Barberini sits, his declaration a stark, unyielding pronouncement, having turned the accusation of heresy back upon Chigi with ferocity. The Conclave chamber is left with the echo of his words, a stark reminder of the absolute stakes as perceived by the defenders of the Inquisition, and the perilous tightrope walk of theological debate. 

 

The Shattering 

Characters: 

Cardinal Flavio Chigi: Now standing, though perhaps slightly hunched, his initial sorrow having given way to something far more volatile. Cardinal Barberini: Seated, but rigid, his gaze fixed on Chigi, ready for any further defiance. Other Cardinals: A mix of shock, weary apprehension, and outright hostility in their faces. Guards stand silently, ever-present, but now subtly tensing. 

 

The ringing silence after Cardinal Barberini's counter-accusation of heresy against Chigi stretches tautly. Every eye in the crowded room is fixed on Cardinal Flavio Chigi, who stands, not moving, his gaze fixed distantly, as if seeing beyond the heavy walls of the Conclave. A tremor runs through his frame, but it is not of fear. 

CARDINAL CHIGI, his voice, when it comes, is lower than before, but sharp, brittle, and laden with a chilling contempt that cuts through the silence: 

"Heresy, you say, Eminence Barberini? Apostasy? You speak of the 'Lion of Judah' as if it were a sacred idol, forgetting the very humility and suffering of the Lamb! David is revered by the judes, are we judes ? Judes betray saul, and god have mad eus somewhat instruments to punish them of treason ? 

 You, who cling to lineage and blood, twisting the testament of Christ into a tool of your earthly power and avarice! You, who demand purity yet bathe in the blood of the innocent and the spoils of the plundered! Aren't you trying to betray the kingsof christendom, instead of guiding them ? Like the inquisition did, with so much proof that have arrived in that supposed " closed doors" conclave ? Is n't that a sign of god'sinetevrention, like an admonition to each of us ? " 

His eyes, which had been unfocused, suddenly snap to Barberini, then sweep across the stunned faces of the assembled cardinals. A wild, almost incandescent light seems to ignite within them. His next words are spat out, each one like a stone thrown, infused with a furious, almost possessed certainty.  

His body vibrates, his hands clenching and unclenching, as if struggling against unseen bonds. The murmurs that begin to rise are instantly quelled by the sheer force of his conviction, or perhaps, his madness. 

CARDINAL CHIGI: 

"No! You are not guardians of the True Faith! You are stones! Hard, dead, impenetrable stones in the path of the living Spirit! 

Worse than stones—you are a Trojan Horse! A Trojan Horse of the Judah's Tribe you claim to purify yourselves from! You hide within the sacred walls of the Church, feigning piety, only to unleash your pagan obsessions with blood and vengeance upon the flock! You bring ruin disguised as salvation! You are the very instruments of the Prince of Lies, perverting God's intentions to justify your cruelties and your coffers!" 

A collective gasp ripples through the Cardinals. Several recoil, some cross themselves instinctively. Barberini's face is a mask of shock, then disbelief, then pure, unadulterated fury. Whispers of "Heresy! Blasphemy! Madness!" erupt, but Chigi barrels on, utterly consumed. 

CARDINAL CHIGI: 

"I have had enough! Enough of your false piety! Enough of your self-serving dogmas! Enough of your gilded cages and your blood-soaked hands! I am no longer a Cardinal in such an abomination o the same way as the muslims! My conscience—my God—demands I separate from this corruption!" 

His voice rises to a raw, ragged cry, echoing off the ancient frescoes. He takes a single, resolute step back, then turns sharply, his cardinal's robes swirling around him.  

He walks directly to the heavy, sealed door leading out of the Conclave, his movements surprisingly swift and decisive, like a man breaking free from a suffocating shroud.  

His gace his pale,and colored, he let others behind him not looking at the horrified faces, fixed only goinf out oh tthis flock of traitors. 

CARDINAL CHIGI: 

"I am leaving! Let those who remain continue to drown in their lukewarm hypocrisy! I choose God, not this... this synagogue of Satan!" 

The last words echoed like a thunderclap of ultimate condemnation.  

Before anyone can react, he pulls at the heavy door. It groans, then swings open just enough for him to slip through. A raw draft of cold air rushes into the stifling room, carrying with it the scent of fresh stone and winter.  

The door thuds shut behind him, sealing the Conclave once more, but leaving behind a silence far heavier than before – a silence broken only by shocked gasps and the frantic whispers of what has just transpired. 

 

_______ 

 

The heavy silence left by the slamming door after the ex-Cardinal Chigi's explosive exit. The draft of cold air still lingers, a ghostly echo of his furious condemnation. 

The Cardinals are frozen in various states of shock, outrage, and dawning realization. Some are still gasping, others muttering prayers, a few simply staring at the now-sealed door. Cardinal Barberini, who had led the counter-attack against Chigi, is rigid in his seat, his face pale with a mix of fury and disbelief at the audacity of the defection. 

The reverberation of the door's final thud dies away, leaving a chasm of stunned silence. Cardinal Barberini is the first to stir, half-rising, his lips already forming words of furious denunciation for the now branded heretic.  

But before he can utter a sound, a new voice, cold and precise, cuts through the stillness. 

CARDINAL DE RETZ, French Faction, rising slowly, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his colleagues, his voice carrying clearly: 

"Well. It seems the Holy Office has indeed achieved... a remarkable feat today." 

His tone is devoid of emotion, yet drips with contempt. Barberini flinches, his eyes snapping to de Retz, recognizing the shift in the tide.  

Before Barberini can formulate a retort, Cardinal Pascual de Aragón, a figure usually afainst the gallican faciton, did not forget the interests of the emperor, and their ties with spanish and portufuese Inquisitions, pushes himself to his feet, his usually stern features etched with a grim, almost reluctant acknowledgment. 

CARDINAL PASCUAL DE ARAGÓN, his voice low, but carrying immense weight, confirming the shocking allianc): 

"Indeed, Eminence de Retz. A feat beyond measure." 

His gaze, usually reserved, now locks onto Barberini, and for the first time, a flicker of raw anger passes over his face. He is not condemning Chigi's heresy, but condemning the cause of it. 

CARDINAL PASCUAL DE ARAGÓN: 

"Your Inquisition, Eminence Barberini... by your very acts of treachery, by your insatiable hunger for the temporal and your utter disregard for the spiritual consequences of your methods... you have even disfranchised one of our most devout believers." 

The words hang in the air like a death knell.  

A collective murmur spreads through the Conclave. To hear a Habsburg cardinal, usually a pillar of support for the Inquisition, join in such a scathing condemnation – and to use the word "treachery" – is unprecedented.  

De Retz allows himself a faint, almost imperceptible, smirk of satisfaction. 

CARDINAL DE RETZ, his voice regaining some of its usual Gallic flavors, as if delivering a verdict: 

"Congratulations, Eminences of the Holy Office. In your righteous zeal, you have succeeded where countless Protestant princes failed. You have driven a Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, a man of profound if perhaps... overwrought... spiritual conviction, to renounce his sacred vows, not for the allure of the world, but from utter despair at your own corruption." 

Barberini's face is now a mask of barely controlled fury, eyes darting between de Retz and de Aragón, realizing the depth of the political trap. This isn't just a theological disagreement; it's a direct, unified assault on the very legitimacy and methods of the Inquisition, using the most damning evidence possible: the self-excommunication of a prince of the Church. 

CARDINAL BARBERINI (his voice a low, strangled growl): 

"This is an outrage! A monstrous perversion! That apostate's words were heresy! He was lost to pride, not driven by virtue!" 

CARDINAL PASCUAL DE ARAGÓN (his voice cuts through Barberini's, cold as a mountain wind): 

"Perhaps. But his madness, Eminence, was born of the poison your tribunals have injected into the Body of Christ. You speak of heresy. I speak of the very soul of the Church, bleeding from the wounds you inflict in its name. Let us see, then, how the world judges a Church that devours its own devout. We all know your acts and your faithful service now." 

The combined weight of their condemnation settles over the Conclave's session. 

The focus has decisively shifted. The debate not even diving in Chigi's heresy, but about the Inquisition's culpability to support the heresy, like colluding with protestantseven on a faithmatters...  

The path to the next pontif just became vastly more complicated, and the fate of the Holy Office now hangs by a thinner thread. 

 

______ 

 

Outside the conclave 

 

Agent Moreau, a man of precise movements and even more precise observation, had positioned carefully. His mission was to observe, to report, to understand the undercurrents of power in Rome. 

He had witnessed the flustered agitation of the cardinal's personal attendants as they hurried to the antechamber where Cardinal Flavio Chigi's temporary lodging awaited. Moreau knew, with an instinct honed by years in the shadows, that something extraordinary had just occurred. 

A Cardinal, abandoning a Conclave before a Pope was elected, was not a common occurence. 

He waited. 

He didn't follow immediately, respecting the unwritten code of allowing a man his immediate private torment. 

But from behind the heavy, brocaded curtain of a nearby alcove, he heard it. The first low, guttural growl of anguish, then a choked sob. It escalated quickly. 

Raging whispers became cries, then guttural screams that tore through the plush silence of the papal apartments. 

Moreau distinguished the crashing of furniture, the frantic murmurs of attendants who dared not enter, and something else – a wet, sickening sound, followed by a raw, primal wail of utter degradation. 

He knew then: the Cardinal was defiling himself, shedding not just his robes but the spiritual filth he felt. 

The storm lasted for what felt like an eternity, slowly subsiding into ragged, shuddering breaths. 

When the sounds of frantic cleaning and hushed, apologetic murmurs from the attendants finally signaled a semblance of order, Moreau moved. 

He found Cardinal Chigi slumped in a heavy velvet armchair, disheveled, reeking, his face a swollen, tear-streaked mask of despair. 

The silk and gold of his discarded cardinal's finery lay in a heap on the floor, soiled and abandoned. 

Moreau approached cautiously, his voice low, devoid of judgment. "Your Eminence," he began, then paused. "Or perhaps, simply... Monsieur Chigi?" 

Chigi's head snapped up, his gace grim and gis eyes somewhat unfocused, then slowly focusing on the agent's impassive face. 

"Who... who are you?" he rasped, his voice raw. 

"An observer," Moreau replied calmly. "And one who witnessed your... departure." He waited for a moment, letting the silence hang. 

"What has happened, Monsieur?" 

Chigi let out a broken, humorless laugh that ended in a sob. 

"Happened? I have been branded a heretic, Monsieur. Branded an heretic during the conclave! For daring to speak truth to that... that assembly of stones!" His gaze hardened, a flicker of the old fire returning, though now twisted with contempt. 

"I lost any interest in that... that subordinated church of the Judes! They are slaves to their own corrupted law, deaf and reluctant to the spirit!" 

He pushed his body upright, a desperate glint in his eye. 

"So tell me, monsieur. You observe. You have influence. Will you seize the Inquisition? Will you rid the world of that blight?" 

Moreau met his gaze steadily. 

"Monsieur Chigi," he said, his voice level. "I have no interest in religious matters." 

He paused, then continued, his voice softening just a fraction, recalling instructions given long ago. 

"But a certain someone, whose counsel I value greatly, once said to me: 'I think there are real believers, Moreau. True seekers among the faithful, even if the institution fails them.' That same someone instructed me to conduct you to somewhat of a refuge, if need be, and if you're willing." 

Chigi's face, ravaged by grief and spiritual exhaustion, contorted in confusion, then a flicker of desperate hope. 

"Refuge?" he murmured, the word tasting alien on his tongue. 

"Maybe... maybe I will need that. 

Where?" His eyes darted around the opulent room, then out the window towards the endless, indifferent Roman night. 

He seemed utterly lost, truly like when you encountered the breath of God too stronginyour noses, shaking him to his very core, leaving him utterly unmoored. 

Moreau nodded. "Sweden. It's cold, especially in winter. Far from Rome, far from... this." He gestured vaguely at the discarded robes and the lingering stench. "Better than nowhere to go, is it not?" 

Chigi stared at him, the name "Sweden" hanging in the air like a foreign curse, a land of frozen heresy. But then, he reminded those band of vibrating stones inthecoclave: what heretics ?. 

" Yes" Chigi whispered, the word barely audible. "Yes. I accept." 

The agent merely nodded. An Ex-Cardinal, broken ties from his initial faith, was about to find in the chilling embrace of the very Protestant world his former Church condemned, like he did, at least partially. 

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