I had always anticipated that I would need to visit the Vatican at some point.
Before leaving, I shared a final meal with Alberic.
Even though we were technically in English territory, this land was undeniably French, so one might expect the food to be delicious. However, that was far from the truth.
In modern times, France is celebrated as a culinary paradise, but during the Middle Ages, it was no different from England. Until the Renaissance brought advanced culture from Italy, the French didn’t even use knives and forks properly.
They would grab meat with their hands and drink a thin gruel, barely worthy of being called soup, straight from the bowl.
Even the meals of the nobility were limited to meat, bread, cheese, and wine. It was clear that if I ever gained power, I would need to reform this dismal food culture.
The silver lining was that my current body had adapted to this dreadful diet. If I were in my modern body, I would have gagged at the quality of this food, which was worse than military rations, but strangely, I found it tolerable now.
Alberic, too, devoured the meat with his hands, as if he were digging into the earth.
I wondered if his appetite was due to his long years in the Crusades or if people of this era genuinely found this food delicious. I didn’t bother asking, as the answer was obvious.
Despite my complaints about the taste, I continued to shove meat into my mouth. My body kept warning me about muscle loss if I didn’t consume enough protein, so what choice did I have?
“Mmm, the food here in Aquitaine is excellent, probably because the land is so fertile.”
“Is that so?”
“Everything is delicious, from this dish to that meat. I’m in heaven.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Listening to his words, which I couldn’t relate to at all, I quietly finished my meal and wiped the soup from my lips.
‘Well… the Vatican’s food has to be better than this. I could really use a Renaissance right about now.’
Unlike me, Alberic seemed thoroughly satisfied as he patted his belly and asked, “Are you leaving right away?”
“Yes, I can’t keep His Holiness waiting.”
“Hahaha, if you come back with a saintly title, how should I address you?”
“Just call me as you always have. It would be uncomfortable if old acquaintances suddenly started using formal titles.”
“You’re consistent, as always. But are you sure you’ll be alright going alone? I could accompany you and assist.”
I shook my head lightly and replied, “I need someone here to manage things in my absence. I’d appreciate it if you could take on that role, Sir Alberic.”
“Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will! So, what should I do? Mediate the conflict between His Majesty and Prince Richard?”
“No, just leave it as it is.”
Alberic frowned in confusion. “If we leave it, there will be war.”
“Yes. An infection that festers beyond healing needs to be lanced. Trying to suppress it half-heartedly will only leave a bigger scar.”
“But didn’t you just say to manage the situation?”
“I meant to manage the timing of the war, including my relationship with Prince Richard.”
The more influence I have in making Richard king, the larger my share of the pie. Normally, standing out too much would risk purges, but given my background, I’m safe from such dangers.
I need to extract as much as I can to increase my influence. Of course, I couldn’t say this outright to Alberic, so I added a plausible excuse.
“Even if war is inevitable, we should minimize casualties. With me there, we can get through this turmoil with minimal damage.”
“Ah, I see. If war can’t be avoided, we should at least minimize the damage. I’m learning from you again.”
“Sir Alberic, you’ve dedicated so much to the Crusades. It’s time you received your due rewards. Let go of any guilt you hold and trust me.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my utmost, so don’t worry and have a safe trip to the Vatican.”
Alberic’s eyes glistened slightly as he nodded vigorously.
In this era of decentralized power, the alliance and unity of nobles are crucial. No matter how well I do, there are limits if I don’t have allies.
In that regard, Alberic, with his ties to the Count of Dammartin, is invaluable. If I support him well, he could be the next Count of Dammartin.
Though he’s far down the line of succession, I know countless ways to overturn that. Above all, it’s not easy to find a high-ranking noble who will unconditionally support and trust me.
I need as many allies as possible.
“I’ve already spoken to His Highness and my father. Once I’m gone, meet with them.”
“Even Sir Marshal? Wasn’t he a loyalist to His Majesty?”
“After the debacle at the meeting, his loyalty has cooled. But he hasn’t completely turned. He intends to remain neutral.”
The fact that he hasn’t turned despite being blindsided shows how committed Marshal is to chivalry. In the 12th century, where knights were little more than armored bandits, it’s no wonder people coveted him.
I bid Alberic farewell and mounted my horse. Though I hadn’t announced my departure, a line of people had gathered to see me off.
I haven’t even been officially recognized as a saint yet, but I’m already receiving such treatment. It will be quite a sight when I return.
In modern Italy, Tuscany is the second-largest city, but medieval Pisa was far more significant.
With countless pilgrims traveling between Italy and France, the hospitality and lodging industries thrived, and its coastal location made it easy to amass wealth through trade.
Pisa played a crucial role in transporting troops during the Crusades and even controlled several Mediterranean islands.
Most importantly, it was where the Pope resided when he couldn’t stay in Rome due to strained relations.
When I arrived, preparations were underway for the Pope’s return to Rome.
One of the bishops, who had been waiting, greeted me with a respectful bow.
“Welcome! I am Bishop Pietro, here to assist you during your stay. His Holiness is expecting you.”
Not just Pietro, but all the clergy present bowed deeply.
“In the name of the Lord, welcome.”
“It’s an honor to meet the renowned prophet.”
Whether bishops or ordinary clergy, their eyes were filled with admiration, longing, and anticipation.
I accepted their greetings with a humble and devout expression as I entered.
Guided by Bishop Pietro, I walked a short distance to find an elderly man who looked well past sixty.
The clergy accompanying me all bowed respectfully to the old man.
“Your Holiness! We have brought Sir Marshal.”
The 174th Pope and the current head of the Western Church, Pope Clement III, waved his hand dismissively at the clergy.
“You’ve done well. Now, leave us. I wish to speak with Sir Marshal alone.”
“But…”
“You have a welcome ceremony to prepare for tomorrow, and the canonization ceremony must be more splendid than ever.”
“Understood.”
Once the others had left, only the Pope and I remained in the spacious room.
With his hair turned white, the Pope remained seated, smiling as he addressed me.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Was the journey tiring?”
“When the Pope calls, of course, I must come. It was my duty, so it was no trouble at all.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
In this era, the position of Pope isn’t just for the devout and idealistic. Many medieval Popes were as political and cunning as any ruler.
Though Clement III’s tenure wasn’t long enough to fully gauge his character, his efforts to mend relations with Rome and lay the groundwork for the Third Crusade suggest he isn’t to be underestimated.
Clement III watched me with a seemingly indifferent yet subtly intrigued gaze, assessing whether I was a pawn to be manipulated or a rival to be wary of.
That’s likely why he summoned me under the pretext of a canonization ceremony.
In that case, my task was clear: to subtly play the part of a naive, devout country knight.
“But Your Holiness, you mentioned a canonization ceremony earlier… Does that mean I might be granted sainthood?”
“Of course. If someone who hears God’s voice and receives visions of the future can’t be a saint, who can?”
“So, you’re officially recognizing my credibility. Thank you!”
Such overtly clueless behavior would usually draw scrutiny, but the Pope’s face instead broke into a benevolent smile.
“Indeed, indeed. I was astonished by your prophecy. How on earth did you know I would take the name Clement III?”
“I’m not entirely sure myself. It just came to me naturally through prayer…”
“Ah, yes. That’s often how the Lord reveals His will to us. But it’s rare for someone to receive such specific revelations as you do. It seems God truly favors you.”
“You flatter me. Didn’t His Holiness the Pope also hear God’s voice instructing him to launch the Crusades?”
The Vatican’s push to reclaim Jerusalem was justified by the claim that it was God’s will.
Having invoked God’s name, the expedition had to succeed at all costs. That’s why the loss of Jerusalem was such a blow that it led to the passing of Pope Urban III.
“Well, yes, that’s true. So, you believe God commanded the reclaiming of Jerusalem?”
“I haven’t received any such message. But I can’t claim to know everything. Given my own experiences, I trust that His Holiness, as God’s representative, would have received such guidance.”
“Indeed. Your faith is truly blessed.”
The Pope’s lips twitched slightly at the compliment, though he didn’t seem to fully trust my words, as expected from a seasoned diplomat.
“The reason I wanted to speak with you privately is that there are a few things I need to verify. Not that I doubt you, so please don’t take offense.”
“Of course not. Ask me anything.”
“Are there any prophecies you haven’t shared yet?”
“Yes, there are. But I’ve been told it’s not yet time to reveal them… I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I appreciate your honesty.”
Anyone with a bit of cunning would usually claim there’s nothing more to say. By admitting there are unrevealed prophecies, I’ve likely given the impression that I’m not particularly shrewd.
Unless I had a reputation for being exceptionally clever, no one would expect a simple crusader like me to be playing such a game. Given my background with the Knights Templar in Jerusalem, this demeanor suits me best.
Pope Clement III chuckled softly, not taking his eyes off me, the naive country knight I was pretending to be.
“It seems we understand each other well, as fellow recipients of God’s favor. I hope we can maintain this good relationship.”
I forced myself to think of something sad, squeezing out a few tears, and looked up at the Pope with moist eyes.
“It is an unparalleled honor to hear you say that, Your Holiness. I will do my utmost to serve you faithfully.”