Chapter 37: Let the People Suffer Once More

As snowflakes once again drifted from the heavens, Christmas of 1066 arrived.

Inside the Cologne Cathedral, groups of nobles sat among the pews, whispering and exchanging tidbits of gossip. To appear more imposing, they all wore their most sumptuous garments.

Having endured a sleepless night, they had already formed a rough judgment of the future’s political landscape.

Some were anxious; others, delighted.

Yet, as the New Year’s bells tolled, all conversation ceased. Archbishop Anno of Cologne stepped forth, beginning to distribute the Holy Sacrament to the attending nobles.

The so-called Holy Sacrament was nothing more than a small wafer.

In this moment, every proud noble became a devout believer. They bowed their heads to receive the Sacrament, placed it in their mouths, crushed it with their tongues, then swallowed.

At last, when Godfrey the Bearded approached Archbishop Anno, he lifted his head and smiled.

“Anno, this year is rather bleak, isn’t it?”

Godfrey’s tone carried a hint of mockery.

“Ah, let’s not speak of such things at a time like this,” Anno replied, handing him the wafer and preparing to deliver his sermon for the midnight Mass.

But Godfrey stepped forward, blocking Anno’s path.

“Let me say a few words.”

Anno hesitated, but extended his hand, signaling Godfrey to proceed.

Having suffered defeat in the empire’s power struggle, Anno dared not oppose the ascendant Godfrey.

As Godfrey ascended the altar, all the nobles fixed their gaze upon him.

The nobles of Upper and Lower Lorraine knew well that Godfrey was their leader. This duke on the empire’s western frontier wielded immense power, his influence at its peak. Even the emperor was forced to compromise with him.

He adopted an appropriately arrogant demeanor to cow the equally unruly nobles.

“Gentlemen, at this moment, I wish to tell you something!”

Godfrey’s voice was deep and commanding, resonating through the cathedral. Anno stood aside, his eyes filled with envy and admiration.

“I, Godfrey, have received instructions from His Holiness the Pope to go to Italy, to aid the Holy See in dealing with traitors! I wonder how many of you remember the war two years ago—a conflict still spoken of to this day! Every participant was a guardian of the Holy See, a steadfast shield of the Lord!”

The nobles below remained silent, quietly watching Godfrey.

“I announce this today to inform you all: once Christmas ends, I will lead my army south, into Italy, to defend the Holy See! The Normans of southern Italy already threaten its safety! For the glory of God, we must go!”

With that, Godfrey spread his arms wide.

After two or three seconds of silence, Archbishop Anno began to applaud. The nobles, slow to react, followed suit.

The gradually swelling applause enveloped Godfrey in vanity.

What a splendid title—Guardian of the Holy See.

Yet, the nobles below harbored different thoughts. After years of relentless campaigns, the weary nobles—did they truly wish to follow him into battle again?

…

In the Cathedral of Pisa, the same midnight Mass had just concluded.

Leo handed the Sacrament to Giovanni. The magistrate appeared utterly devout, opening his mouth to receive the Sacrament, then turning away.

A man who conceals his merits and fame, Leo mused inwardly.

He glanced at the array of silver candlesticks beside him; most of these gold and silver items had been donated by Giovanni.

A few coins had found their way into Leo’s own pocket—his private property now, a subtle bribe from Giovanni.

One had to admit—he was a top-tier wealthy man.

Leo closed his eyes for a moment and checked his system.

[Personal Information]
[Name: Leo]
[Position: Bishop]
[Domain: Correzzola, Pisa]
[Money: 2,844 silver marks]
[Reputation: 40]
[Devotion: 881]

As expected, after becoming bishop, the system gave no reward.

However, Leo noticed that his devotion increased more quickly now. There were indeed perks to being a bishop.

When Leo opened his eyes again, Matilda stood before him.

She wore a dazzling array of golden jewelry and a luxurious, extravagant gown, its hem sweeping the floor as if to flaunt her boundless wealth.

Hands clasped in prayer, she came before Leo, her hands overlapping like the base of a throne.

As she received the Sacrament from Leo, she lifted her gaze and met his eyes.

Matilda was the last to receive the Sacrament.

As the most exalted among them, the archpriest standing beside her, holding the Holy Blood, felt his hands trembling.

He watched as Matilda finished receiving the Holy Blood and moved aside to silently confess, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Leo glanced at the archpriest, shaking his head in mild exasperation.

His nerves were simply too frail.

Once the sacred rites were complete, Leo withdrew to the vestry within the cathedral to rest for a while.

The Christmas vigil was indeed a torment.

No mobile phone, no television, not even a radio—the era was starved for entertainment. Leo felt himself on the verge of fainting.

As he lamented alone, the vestry door suddenly swung open.

“Your Excellency Bishop.”

Leo looked up to see Giovanni.

“What brings you here?”

As he spoke, Leo stood.

“I came to ask you something,” Giovanni replied, closing the door behind him—a gesture that told Leo their conversation would be confidential.

The magistrate calmly took a seat, ignoring the gold and silver around him, staring directly at Leo.

“How do you plan to solve the issue of the tithe?” Giovanni’s tone was unwavering. “This time, you must give me an answer.”

An answer was demanded?

Leo felt a bit helpless, for the real answer was almost too honest.

He spread his hands, saying, “We won’t pay.”

“Won’t pay?”

Giovanni frowned, clearly dissatisfied.

“If we refuse to pay, and the Holy See blames us, laying the responsibility on you and me, what then? You’re a barefoot cleric; I’m not. I am the magistrate here…”

“Stop, stop, Giovanni, calm down first,” Leo interrupted, raising a hand.

Seeing Leo’s gesture, Giovanni settled, determined to give Leo another chance.

“My point is, we simply won’t pay. The Holy See needs force more than money. And force cannot be bought with a mere fee,” Leo said.

His words confused Giovanni. “So what do you plan to do?”

“If the Holy See wants force, we shall provide it.”

Leo pointed at the ground. “In Pisa, and on Corsica, there are surely many eager for adventure.”

Giovanni nodded, agreeing—he, as Pisa’s magistrate, knew this well.

“In any case, these idle men are troublemakers. Why not give them to me? I’ll provide the Holy See with a blood tithe, and your tithe will be waived.”

This plan struck Giovanni as dangerous.

Yet, compared to the enormous tithe, Giovanni thought perhaps Leo’s idea was worth a try.

If it failed, he could simply sell Leo out.

He could pay the tithe later; what could the Holy See do then?

His expression, to Leo, was one of hesitation.

“Giovanni, one way or another, your purse will be safe. As for the blood tithe…”

Leo stood from his chair, patting Giovanni’s shoulder, speaking gravely.

“I’ll bear the blame—let the people suffer a little more.”