Annelette, in a state of extreme tension, tried to make sense of this sudden onslaught of information. She veered between euphoria and despair: euphoria because, despite the labyrinthine path that was taking them there, they were advancing towards the Light; and despair at the thought that she had so long been deprived of these secrets whose enormity she was only now beginning to grasp. She made a supreme effort to impose some order on the chaos of her thoughts:
‘We are alone on board a ship lost on a raging sea. Benoît has been fatally poisoned and nobody can say whether the next pope elect will be friend or foe. In short, we must count upon our own guile to recover the manuscripts and exterminate the snake that has killed our sisters.’
‘I’d wager my life that the thief and the murderess are one and the same person.’
‘So would I, Reverend Mother. Even so, and notwithstanding your doubts about me – which I fully understand, for the feeling was mutual – if I am to form a complete picture of events, I need more facts. If you want me to make some sense out of this muddle, I implore you, be frank with me. We are not friends, I know, and it pains me to say so, believe me.’ She stopped the Abbess’s nascent protest with a gesture before continuing: ‘However, we are … two survivors whose lives are in danger.’
Annelette stifled the unbidden sorrow welling up inside her; for the first time in her life she regretted the lack of friendship with a fellow human being. No doubt it was too late to aspire to it now. No matter. She went on in a more decisive voice:
‘Regarding the two birth charts. Am I to assume that they can be correctly calculated using Vallombroso’s theory rather than Ptolemy’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that they relate to events or people. I suspect one of them concerns Madame de Souarcy.’
‘We believe it does. Madame Agnès was born on 25 December, the date indicated by one of the charts, which specifies that the person we seek was born during an eclipse. However, the eclipse was only partial on the night she was born.’
‘Was it essential that the eclipse be total?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘This explains the Inquisition’s ruthless treatment of her,’ reflected Annelette. ‘Agnès de Souarcy is a threat to our enemies and therefore she must die.’
‘That is what we believe.’
‘Why?’
‘My dear Annelette, if we had even the slightest inkling, the Light would already be within our grasp.’
‘And yet, according to you, the incestuous desires of her half-brother, Eudes de Larnay, were at the bottom of the monstrous plot that led to Madame Agnès’s arrest.’
‘Oh, they were. Nonetheless, I am convinced – as is my nephew Francesco – that, unbeknownst to that conceited scoundrel, a far more formidable intelligence was at work behind the scenes. The baron is not a clever man. It wouldn’t surprise me if Florin had not also been the victim of somebody more cunning than he. He paid for it with his life. An excellent outcome in his case.’
‘Do you believe that Madame de Souarcy’s life is still in danger?’
‘If our theories are correct, then yes, without a doubt. Indeed, it almost makes the Grand Inquisitor seem preferable …’
Annelette finished her thought for her:
‘Because at least we knew where the threat was coming from.’
‘Precisely. At present we are in the dark and have no idea who will strike Agnès de Souarcy next – or when.’
‘Do you know who might be behind this?’
‘I have an idea, at least,’ Éleusie replied after a brief pause. ‘In Francesco’s view, whoever is pulling the strings also ordered Benoît’s murder …’
‘Damn him …’ breathed Annelette.
‘I doubt the term even applies to him. He is cunning, extremely intelligent and what is more, my daughter, I am certain that he is not driven by personal glory. His influence in the Vatican must be enormous in order for him to have been informed of the papal emissaries’ missions to Clairets, to have made such an impression on Florin and to have enabled his henchman to gain access to our late lamented Pope.’
Annelette stared at her aghast for a moment before it dawned on her. Suddenly she whispered:
‘Not him! The camerlingo, Honorius Benedetti?’
‘Who else?’
‘Then all is lost.’
‘What makes you say that?’
Now it was Annelette’s turn to hesitate. She had spent sufficient time in Benoît’s entourage when he was still only Nicolas Boccasini, Bishop of Ostia, to know something of the complexities of episcopal or even archiepiscopal politics. If the Abbess, blinded by her unquestioning faith, believed that nominations and elections were the expression of a higher, divine will, then she was very much mistaken. In reality, the apothecary almost envied her the angelic naivety that recent events had not completely managed to eradicate. Finally she spoke:
‘When Boniface VIII died, it was rumoured that Bishop Benedetti had set his sights on the Holy See. To tell you the truth, it came as a terrible shock when Benoît was elected. Everybody was expecting the camerlingo to be the new Pope.’
‘And why wasn’t he?’
‘I would like to be able to say that a miracle came to our aid, but the real reason had more to do with politics. I wonder whether the majority of the cardinals in the conclave weren’t …’ She closed her eyes and shook her head, suddenly uneasy. ‘Honorius Benedetti is a fearsome man. He is at once inspiring, inscrutable, intransigent. His so-called allegiance to Boniface VIII also caused concern, I believe. Unduly, for Benedetti is nobody’s servant. He is a strategist, a thinker. The relationship between the two men was more like an extraordinary collaboration, for I doubt that Benedetti felt any sort of friendship towards the overbearing Boniface. In my opinion the camerlingo does not seek personal power. He likes to think of himself as being above worldly gain. The fact remains that certain people were tired of Boniface’s dubious reputation,2 his oppressive authority, and they voted for the benevolent, gentle Nicolas Boccasini. Perhaps they thought that he would be easy to control. They were mistaken. Benoît’s infinite goodness and purity made him steadfast and unyielding.’
‘Dear God … Are you suggesting that Bishop Benedetti could be our next Pope?’
‘I fear so. Astonishing though it might sound, I am hoping that the King of France’s need for a docile pope will cause him to interfere in the coming election. If he does, Benedetti will be ruled out. Philip the Fair is no fool and his counsellor Guillaume de Nogaret* still less. Honorius Benedetti is the breed of man who will not be swayed by bribes, flattery or threats. He is a past master of the art of trickery and cannot be duped or seduced. If you are right – and I believe you are – he will stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Yes … I want the King’s Pope to be elected.’
Éleusie’s face froze with shock. She stammered:
‘So, you would sacrifice the Church, my daughter!’
‘No, I am simply hoping for a reversal that will save Christianity and more importantly Christianity’s message, which seems to me far more urgent, not to say imperative.’
A heavy silence fell. One thing troubled Annelette. Order. How to order the various elements the Abbess had given her and make sense of them. Finally, her concerns took shape:
‘So, the Vallombroso treatise, written by that poor monk who was probably murdered, found its way into Boniface VIII’s papal library. As for the two birth charts, they were discovered by the Knight Templar at Acre. We might infer from this that Honorius Benedetti’s