The First Sin

by Jessica Brawner

  Opening the door on the west wall I spotted it. The Miter was set within a glass case on an ornate table beside the clothes press with the Holy Father's ceremonial robes. It was considerably larger than I had anticipated. Carefully opening the case I slid the Miter off its stand, closed the case and ran back to the secret passageway. Eyes wide, and palms damp, I grabbed my slippers and closed the door.

  What were you thinking? How are you going to get out of here with this?

  I raced down the corridor back to the blue sitting room. The Miter was large and heavily embroidered with gold thread and seed pearls surrounding large crimson cloth cross. A long ribbon descended from the base of the Miter. I tucked the ribbon up into the hat while I walked. Because of the odd, triangular shape of the hat it could be folded relatively flat.

  Seeing no other way, I lifted my skirts and tucked the pointed end of the Miter beneath my bodice as best as I could, jamming it up under the front of my corset, hoping it would stay. Thinking quickly I slid the ribbon out of the Miter and wrapped it around my thigh tying it securely. It might still fall but would be less likely to hit the floor. I hadn’t planned on more than reconnaissance today and didn’t have the normal harnesses I used for carrying items covertly. “I’ll just have to make do,” I muttered quietly under my breath. I opened the secret door and slipped back into the room.

  The Miter pressed under my bodice, poking uncomfortably into my stomach. The ornamentation scratched and dug into my skin and I was very conscious of it as I approached the door. Every time I moved the point stabbed into me. Glancing in the mirror I took in my disheveled appearance. Breathing shallowly, I re-pinned my hair and straightened my clothing.

  How am I going to get out of here… I mused, running through several impractical options and discarding them. That Captain is probably still standing guard outside the door. Hmm. Wait! That Captain is still standing outside the door! Fantastic! I’ll use him as an alibi!

  I passed back into the rose room and went to the main door of the suite. Opening the door and peering into the hallway I smiled. Charles was standing politely at attention guarding the door. When he saw me, he smiled in return.

  "I think I will go back to the garden for some fresh air,” I said lightly, trying to sound shy and uncertain.

  He nodded and offered me his arm with a cheerful smile, and said in heavily accented French, "Yes of course, right this way."

  Gritting my teeth, but with a smile plastered on my face, I took his arm.

  He gestured and we proceeded slowly down the hall. With every step we took, I could feel the Miter slip slightly. My heart pounding in my chest, I made casual conversation, keeping my voice light and carefree as befitted a young noblewoman.

  Niccolò found us strolling in the garden. His eyes widened when he saw the Captain of the Guard.

  "Oh, there is my page. Have you come to fetch me for my audience?" I looked at Niccolò and nodded my head hoping he remembered our shipboard lessons.

  He nodded once. "Sí signora, the Holy Father requests your presence. We must go now."

  Turning to Charles, I said, "Thank you for a pleasant stroll, but I mustn't keep the Holy Father waiting."

  “You must be mistaken young man. The Contessa’s audience isn’t until later this afternoon,” he said to Niccolò. “I feel certain that the Holy Father will send one of the Monsignors when he is ready for you, Contessa,” Charles said politely. “But I can escort you back to the chapel that has been set aside for your use. Or we can continue our stroll in the garden.”

  The Miter jabbed into my stomach, an uncomfortable reminder. The chapel had only one entrance and could only too easily become a trap. “Perhaps we should stroll for a few more minutes then,” I simpered, batting my eyelashes up at him. “Certainly, you will protect me from the Monseigneur’s wrath if he thinks I have ignored his summons.” Let him think me the silly noblewoman then – it would be easier to escape from the gardens.

  He bowed crisply over my hand. “As you say, signora. May I show you the rose garden?”

  Wide eyed and uncertain, Niccolò watched me. “Yes, Messire, that would be delightful. Niccolò, follow along please.” I laid my hand lightly on Charles’s proffered arm and made light conversation as he guided us toward a large rose garden. In other circumstances, I would have found his banter delightful, and his golden eyes, staring down into mine a challenge worth pursuing.

  As we entered the rose garden, a priest came running at a most undignified pace. “Captain! Captain, I must speak with you.”

  Charles turned, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “Father Michael.”

  “Captain Durstain, my apologies, but I must speak with you immediately.” Father Michael glanced in my direction. “Alone. It is urgent.”

  Charles grimaced, his irritation at Father Michael apparent. “Contessa, forgive me. If you will wait here, I will return momentarily. It seems my duties intrude.”

  Relief flooded me. “A man of your rank must have many important things that demand his attention. I look forward to the next time we meet Monsieur.” I bowed my head slightly, a curtsey being out of the question.

  Speaking urgently, Father Michael took Charles’s arm and turned to go. Looking back over his shoulder at me, Father Michael mouthed the word ‘Run’. Surprise hit me like a cold wave, but I nodded. Waiting until they were around the corner, I grabbed Niccolò’s shoulder.

  "We must be going.” My voice was calm, but my body thrilled to the adventure, heart beating with excitement. I knew how ill-advised my hasty theft was however, and risk of capture was high. Niccolò, needing no encouragement, began walking at a brisk pace.

  "We must get out of here,” I whispered to Niccolò, hand on his shoulder. “Now. I have Pope Clément's hat hidden under my skirt."

  The boy paled. "How?... If they catch us now they will kill us."

  "Go and fetch the coach as if nothing has happened. Do you understand?"

  He nodded eyes wide.

  "Remember, so long as you act like a page, that is all they will see." My own hands were shaking and I clasped them together to hide my trembling.

  Seeing my hands tremble, and taking it for distress, Niccolò calmed. "Do not fear signora, it's an adventure remember?"

  I chuckled, "Very well, lead the way my gallant knight."

  Adventure or not, there was a disturbance behind us and it was getting louder. I gritted my teeth and continued at a sedate pace. Niccolò walked ahead of me. When we reached the chapel, I ducked inside while he called the carriage. As I waited for Niccolò, the Monseigneur returned. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt the Miter shift and start to slip.

  The Monseigneur wrung his hands. "Contessa, I am afraid I have bad news. Something has come up and the Holy Father will not be able to hear your confession today. I'm afraid your visit has been in vain. I do apologize. Would you like me to arrange for one of the Cardinals to hear your confession instead?"

  He doesn’t know I have it. I’m just some silly noblewoman to him. This was an entirely unplanned theft. I repeated this mantra in my head, controlling my expression as my heart pounded. I looked demurely up through my lashes, "Non, merci Monseigneur, I will petition the Holy Father for an audience at a later date."

  "Of course, Contessa, if such is your decision." He looked relieved, the look of an administrator who had been forced to deal with too many nobles and their foibles. The Monseigneur looked around. "Where is your page?"

  "I sent him to fetch me some water," I lied. Niccolò popped his head into the chapel. "And here he is now. Perhaps we should be going if the Holy Father is indisposed." I clutched Niccolò meaningfully by his shoulder.

  "Let me call you a carriage, Contessa.” The Monseigneur started towards the doorway.

  I reached out to stop him and remembered myself. "I am certain my page can handle that. And an important man like yourself must have better things to do than to wait on a silly noblewoman like moi."

  "Nonsense. Come, my
child. I will see you safely off." He gestured for me to proceed him out of the room.

  I replied in a soft voice, "Of course." The Miter scraped and rubbed against my skin, as we walked, becoming more painful with every step and the trip down the hallway was agonizingly slow. I felt the tip slid out from under my bodice and gasped, clutching at my stomach. Turning the Monsignor paled. “Are you quite alright signora?”

  Niccolò, playing his part well, said, “She has spells, sir, and is easily overwrought.”

  “Signora,” Niccolò said, “Lean on me. You will be alright. We will get you to your carriage and call your physician.”

  Seeing that Niccolò seemed to know what to do, and that a carriage was becoming more urgent, the Monsignor hurried ahead to the carriage yard, giving me a chance to re-adjust the Miter.

  Clutching my stomach to hold the Miter in place, we made it to the carriage yard. The Monseigneur was startled to see a carriage already waiting and the disturbance I heard earlier seemed to be coming our way.

  "You must have a secret system of communication to have the carriage here so fast." I let amazement tinge my voice, hoping he would choose pride over curiosity.

  Pride won. "Um. Yes Contessa, something along those lines." He tried to hide his confusion, smiling and gesturing to the carriage.

  As I stepped up into the carriage, I felt the Miter slip through my fingers, sliding along the front of my leg, held and hidden only by the hem of my dress. The edge of the Miter peeked out under my dress, dazzling to my eyes. I nudged it further into the carriage with my foot and slammed the door quickly. "Well, thank you, kind sir. We will be going now," I said with as much grace as I could muster, fanning my face.

  Niccolò hopped up beside the driver and we started moving.

  Breathe. Keep facing forward as if nothing has happened. How did that priest know, and why did he help us? What did Charles call him? Father… Michael.

  I pulled this thread, running back through where I had heard that name before.

  As we were driving out the gate, I heard angry voices behind us. I did not turn to look out the carriage window and I heard Niccolò direct the coachman to take us to the airfield.

  The further away from the palace we got, the easier it was to breathe. I closed the carriage curtains and picked up the Miter. With some awkward gyrations, I reposition it securely under the front of my gown. We reached the airfield and the carriage dropped us off at the Airfield Master's office. Niccolò ran for the ship, and I followed at a more sedate pace, still praying the Miter wouldn't slip.

  Niccolò climbed the ladder and had Seamus lower the platform for me. When I was safely on board, I asked Seamus, "Is everyone here?"

  “Aye. Henri and Marie just returned.”

  "Excellent. Nina!" I shouted. “Take off. Now.”

  Seamus's eyebrows climbed further towards his hairline.

  "Aye Captain. Running hot?" she called back as she climbed the ladder to the steering deck

  "We’ll know soon. Let me get out of this gown." I held the skirts up and strode across the deck, kicking layers of petticoat out of my way. In my cabin, I shouted into the communication tube that could be heard throughout the ship. “Prepare for take-off.”

  With my door closed I quickly untied the ribbon holding the Miter and set it on my desk, then unlaced the over garments and tossed them onto the bed and slid out of the corset with relief. When I could breathe again, I took a moment to examine the Miter. Beautifully crafted, the gold stitches were so close together and so even that the fabric looked like woven gold. Hundreds of seed pearls, each as tiny as a grain of sand, covered its surface. A cross, emblazoned in crimson, edged in diamonds, adorned the front.

  I allowed myself a moment to revel in our success as I felt the ship launch toward the sky. We had succeeded with no advance plan, going strictly on intuition and circumstance, on what was supposed to have been a reconnaissance mission only. And Niccolò and I had done this with no backup, and no escape plan. Niccolò’s performance was brilliant, and I looked forward to telling the tale to the crew.

  Several map drawers lined the wall under my bunk, and under those were deeper drawers for clothing. Pulling out the third drawer I ran my fingernail under a nearly invisible seam. A thin sheet of wood popped out revealing a hidden compartment about four inches deep. I flattened the Miter and pressed it into the depression. Replacing the contents of the drawer, I felt my shoulders loosen a little.

  Changing into my everyday attire of leather pants, a vest with one of Marie’s golden bees, and daggers in my boot tops, I tucked a pair of leather gloves into my belt and went back out on deck. The ship was just clearing the cradle, and Nina had things well in hand. Eyes wide, Niccolò stared out over the airfield as it receded slowly.

  “You did well today.” I leaned against the railing, watching him. “Would you like to join the crew?”

  Still focused on the retreating ground he nodded his head once, emphatically. I smiled, enjoying the look of wonderment on his face. "Okay, report to Seamus, he will show you where to sleep and what your duties are.”

  Taking out my spyglass, I scanned the airfield and felt my stomach clench. A mass of distinctive blue and gold uniforms had appeared at the main gate and were creating a disturbance.

  Charles

  "Holy Father!" Charles barked; he was angry. Yelling at Monarchs is never wise, but Pope Clément’s revelations were infuriating. "Holy Father," Charles said more calmly. "If you knew that there was a plot, why did you not alert me of the possible threat? We could have prevented this."

  A slow rumble rolled through the palace, vibrating the soles of Charles's feet. He looked around, startled at the small earthquake. Faint concern passed across Clément's face in time with the distant rumbling. This region was not known for earthquakes.

  Charles brought himself back to the moment. Clément loomed over him, all the might of his papal authority and anger ready to bring down on his new Captain of the guard. After the fiasco between the Medici’s and the Duke, the subsequent audiences had gone smoothly – until this. Charles was altogether disgusted with today and stood his ground. The guards posted around the edges of the room remained expressionless, watching.

  The ground shook again, stronger this time. Strong enough to rattle the stained-glass windows.

  Clément paused and re-considered, becoming again merely mortal. "Charles, you are right, we should have brought this to your attention sooner, as Captain of the Guard you should have been informed of this potential threat."

  Charles started, surprised. The last thing he expected from this Pope was an apology. Clément wasn't known for his humility; he was known for his temper.

  They were in a small audience hall, devoid of courtiers with only the additional guards as witness. Clément paced back and forth on his low dais, white robes swirling with every pass. "Our spies have told us that someone was plotting to steal a relic from the Cathedral, but we had no further information. This group moved faster than anticipated, and somehow managed to penetrate the palace – they must have had help. We planted a decoy in the Cathedral but somehow they must have divined this. The thieves must be returned here and put to the question. I had hoped that the story we put out about the Miter being on display would have led them into a neat little trap, but they seem to have found the real one.”

  Charles nodded. “Is it possible that they had help from someone within the palace?”

  “It is always possible. There are many within the court who would be happy to see me fall. Rumor also says that the Pirate, Captain Jac, may be in the area, but that has not been confirmed.” Clément smiled and continued, "Investigate all avenues, but find the Miter. As a relic of the church, it's value is well beyond that of the gold and jewels encasing it."

  Descending from the dais he put a hand on Charles’s shoulder. "And know, my son, if during the course of finding the Miter you or your men are forced to kill, or to do things that go against the teachings of the church, heaven
ly father above has already forgiven you." He sketched the sign of the cross above Charles's brow. “I feel that this is an excellent opportunity for you to show me that I was correct in my selection of Captain.”

  Charles was uncertain as to what had just happened. He had expected a dressing down, possibly dismissal from his new-won post. But instead he had been ordered to pursue the criminals and given carte blanche to do what was needful.

  He bowed low. "Your eminence, I will not fail you. We will bring the criminals to justice."

  Pope Clément looked him in the eye, "Bring them to me in chains if you can. I will pass judgement on them myself. If that proves impossible, dead if you must...."

  Charles nodded, gestured to three of the guards to join him, and strode out of the room with new purpose. When they reached the corridor, he turned to two guardsmen, "Find my second in command, have him meet me in my office, and put together three teams of air squadrons. Have them gather with their supplies, enough for a few days, in the courtyard in a quarter hour.” Charles grabbed a fourth guardsman. “Send couriers to the city garrisons to secure the exits. Lock down the Vatican. It’s more likely that the thief is already outside the Vatican walls and will be leaving by air, but we will cover all contingencies.”

  Gesturing to the fourth guard he said, “Take a horse and ride to the airfield as fast as you can. Have the Airfield Master engage the ship restraints on all ships currently docked. As soon as the squadrons gather we’ll be right behind you.”