02-22-2020, 01:19 AM
His first thought: I have a panic button? I should have used it yesterday when Cardinal Giannis wouldn’t shut up.
It was with a small measure of thrill that the Swiss Guards flanked him. They were emboldened by their master Regus of the Archives, but something in Philip’s radiant blue stare gave each a momentary pause. His stoic holiness was calm as the waters tamed by divine order. The very thought of kidnapping His Holiness the Pope from his own palace was something of fiction yet here the threat was unfurled plainly before him. Intimidation and threats were useless methods against Patricus I. As he stepped forward, hands folded gently at the waist, a fatherly, forgiving smile painted his lips with sadness even as the color flushed his cheeks rosy.
“Before we continue, and I very much would like to see what it is you have to show me given the enormity of arrangements it has taken to corner me vulnerable, I want to remind the Vicar of Iscariot something important.”
His steps were silent as he padded the floor. Velvety red slippers peeked like the blood of Christ from the hem of his robe as he walked. The swiss guards seemed unsure who was escorting who, and after a moment’s consideration, followed him to this newly discovered passageway. Philip examined its edge curiously. Older cathedrals were renown for obscured doors, ugly things as they were. Wallpapered over were most. Others were decorative illusions. All were common, seeming to enhance to the ethereal entrance and exit of the priests that occupied them. That one existed within the Papal Palace undiscovered was not at all disconcerting. He assumed there were many more.
He turned to his guest, the one who summoned enough show to kiss the ring previously. “I am not intimidated because I fear nothing. I am not threatened because I am tormented only by the haunts of a sinless soul condemning itself. I am not provoked because I am called only by God, and where God commands others, he asks of me.” He nodded as though explaining the most obvious, plainest concept in the world. “As should the Regus of the Archives follow in the Lord’s example: he has but to ask.”
He passed first through the threshold, speaking into the darkness plunging before him. “And thus is the reminder; for I am not a man. I am a priest,” he said, wondering what was in store.
It was with a small measure of thrill that the Swiss Guards flanked him. They were emboldened by their master Regus of the Archives, but something in Philip’s radiant blue stare gave each a momentary pause. His stoic holiness was calm as the waters tamed by divine order. The very thought of kidnapping His Holiness the Pope from his own palace was something of fiction yet here the threat was unfurled plainly before him. Intimidation and threats were useless methods against Patricus I. As he stepped forward, hands folded gently at the waist, a fatherly, forgiving smile painted his lips with sadness even as the color flushed his cheeks rosy.
“Before we continue, and I very much would like to see what it is you have to show me given the enormity of arrangements it has taken to corner me vulnerable, I want to remind the Vicar of Iscariot something important.”
His steps were silent as he padded the floor. Velvety red slippers peeked like the blood of Christ from the hem of his robe as he walked. The swiss guards seemed unsure who was escorting who, and after a moment’s consideration, followed him to this newly discovered passageway. Philip examined its edge curiously. Older cathedrals were renown for obscured doors, ugly things as they were. Wallpapered over were most. Others were decorative illusions. All were common, seeming to enhance to the ethereal entrance and exit of the priests that occupied them. That one existed within the Papal Palace undiscovered was not at all disconcerting. He assumed there were many more.
He turned to his guest, the one who summoned enough show to kiss the ring previously. “I am not intimidated because I fear nothing. I am not threatened because I am tormented only by the haunts of a sinless soul condemning itself. I am not provoked because I am called only by God, and where God commands others, he asks of me.” He nodded as though explaining the most obvious, plainest concept in the world. “As should the Regus of the Archives follow in the Lord’s example: he has but to ask.”
He passed first through the threshold, speaking into the darkness plunging before him. “And thus is the reminder; for I am not a man. I am a priest,” he said, wondering what was in store.
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