10th January - 1039



"A pox on this accursed war, will it never end!" the words were spoken fervently, surprising since they came from a man well known for his timid nature. Suddenly aware of his outburst, Andreas cleared his addled mind by inhaling a deep breath. He had been in the midst of writing an epistle to his brother who was a monastic scribe at the Basilica of St. Peter, but the din of the encampment outside the pavilion was distracting him from that task. As his eyes fell upon his superior, black ink from the quill slowly stained his thumb and index finger.

"I hear your plea Andreas," Cardinal Arezzo said warmly. "My conscience is also vexed by this ill conceived war that so harshly torments God's children."

"No Eminence, you must be strong, surely your faith is strengthened by your solemn oath to our Lord Christ," Andreas retorted, making the sign of the cross.

The Cardinal smiled, dipping his brow in gratitude, "It is by the grace of God you have come to my employ Andreas. Few men are so blessed to have a devoted servant at their side."

The Cardinal rose from his seat and walked to the open flap of the pavilion, looking out upon the army of the Holy See. The camp of the Papal Guard was bustling with activity. Knights and men-at-arms were training, engaged in mock combat, their squires hovering close by, egging them on. Lesser men sat around numerous campfires, their bodies wrapped in heavy cloaks as they raucously bantered among themselves, the wineskin passing from man to man. A mounted patrol bearing the banner of St. Peter rode slowly past the pavilion, spurring their horses to a canter as they left the camp to carry out their orders.

The Cardinal knew these men would soon fight another battle. Some, perhaps many, would fall in that battle and little of consequence would be accomplished. Such was the wretchedness of war. With a sigh, the Cardinal moved to his writing desk, removing a folded parchment from a saddlebag.

"I believe you have read this?" he asked, handing the parchment to his secretary.

Andreas scanned it, said, "The Byzantine issue on the laws of war, regarding the Serbian aggression. If I remember correctly it was sent some months past when there was a fleeting hope for peace."

The Cardinal nodded, "Your thoughts on it?"

As the Cardinal poured a goblet of hippocras, Andreas read the parchment, "Well, it grants a good deal of favor on the Serbs, which is to be expected." Taking more time to read, he added, "In truth it lacks detail, and that the Romans believe the Holy See should remain idle when our allies are assailed by their Christian brethren is very concerning!"

"Concerning, indeed," the Cardinal replied dryly, drinking from his goblet. "Yet, disregard the benevolence bestowed upon his Orthodox brothers and I believe the author has struck upon a matter of great import."

Andreas rose from his desk, and mid-step gestured at the flagon of hippocras. "May I Eminence?"

The Cardinal waved his hand in assent, said, "How many years must the faithful of God suffer so certain kings can satisfy their unholy hunger for conflict! It is nothing but their unbridled hubris and their avarice for warmongering that keeps war extant."

"I agree Eminence but I fear you are too bold in your ideology. Many kings and princes will not share your belief. Man is a fickle beast, swayed by immoral temptation. Forget not that war reveals the true nature of man and permits the cardinal sins to flourish, as if nurtured by the very hand of Evil. It has been thus since the crucifixion of Christ. The world we inhabit is a world of war."

"We do inhabit a world of war and that is why something must be done!" The Cardinal's voice rose in anger, but there was frustration and despair as well.

"Even with their allies set upon by hordes of paynim the kingdom of Serbia still refuses peace. I tell you Andreas, we linger in a godless land at the mercy of those who will not parley, and do not care if their people are reduced by fire to ash. That these princes of nobility willingly reject so many treaties is an affront to God, and that cannot be allowed to persist!" The Cardinal was indignant, and it took a few moments for him to regain his composure.

"Indeed, the omen is malefic that a Christian kingdom should press a war against the followers of Christ rather than accept peace and rally against the heathen. But what can be done?"

"A great boon could be achieved by a man who values fortitude over his own profit, modesty over pride, who seeks peace rather than war," the Cardinal said, asking after a short pause, "You are aware I follow the teachings of the Blessed Saint, Augustine of Hippo?"

Andreas nodded, "You have made known your adherence, but I confess my knowledge of the Saint is not what it could be."

The Cardinal shrugged, "Well, I have not the time to catechize you on his teachings, suffice to say Augustine was among the first to philosophize the doctrine of just war. Alas, over the centuries his great wisdom has been lost to our world, exiled to a dark catacomb where it has languished long forgotten." After a pause, the Cardinal finished, "I intend to bring his word once more to God's children."

Andreas was dumbfounded, his face draining of color. "Your ambition is bold Eminence, but surely impossible for one man to accomplish."

The Cardinal raised a hand to his mouth, stifling an unintended chortle. "Truly, it would be a feat worthy of David, but I have no desire to do this alone."

"You will seek aid from the church?" Andreas asked.

"No," the Cardinal replied abruptly, "this endeavor will find greater prestige and stand a better chance of success in the secular world, at least to begin with. It can be entrusted only to men whose hearts are true, whose convictions to God are beyond contestation, and in this you will play a part, Andreas." Reaching into his saddlebag the Cardinal removed four sealed parchments and a leather purse containing a small fortune of silver.

"I beseech you travel to the city of Istra, upon arriving open this letter for further instruction. There should be silver enough in this purse to pay your expense," the Cardinal said, passing the first parchment to his secretary, followed by the leather purse.

"By the grace of God you will travel unmolested, but it may be wise to purchase an escort or journey partway with a merchant caravan. Above all else Andreas, trust your instinct, and if you sense danger do what you must to get these letters to their intended hand."

As the Cardinal handed the remaining parchments to his secretary, Andreas noticed they bore the marks, III, VI and IX. Recognizing the symbols as Roman numerals, he briefly pondered if they held some deeper meaning. Then, carefully placing the parchments and the purse of silver in a hidden pocket of his tunic, he avowed, "Failure will mean my death, Eminence."