"Slowly, friend Pieter," Spee said, as the young man hyperventilated. "Take a moment, and then tell me what has you all out of breath." Spee ran his fingers through his unruly mop of hair, then put his hand down. A nervous tic, he thought. Mustn't do that. He stroked his short, curly black beard instead, then put his hands down at his sides.
The seminarian gathered himself together. "The provincial, Father. The provincial is in your rooms, waiting for you! He sent me to find you right away!"
Friedrich was still, thinking of all the things that the provincial's unannounced arrival could mean, most of them bad.
"Well, Pieter," Friedrich said, smiling, and holding in all his fears, "we must go to him then, and see what has brought him all this way in such a hurry. Did he bring an entourage?"
"No, Father, he came himself alone."
Friedrich stopped in mid step. "He what?"
"He is by himself, so Brother Josef said, and he arrived on horseback."
Friedrich turned and began to quickly stride up the street to his lodgings. As van Donck tried to keep up with him, Spee broke into a jog. The little fat youth tried valiantly to keep step, but fell steadily behind. Friedrich didn't seem to notice and quickly outdistanced his secretary.
When he reached his door, Spee pushed it open.
"Brother Josef," he said to the doorman, "please tell me where Father Provincial is."
"He is in your sitting room, Father," the Jesuit brother replied, "I provided him with bread and some beer."
"Fine," Spee said. "Now when Pieter comes, please send him along to us there."
"Yes, Father." The brother said it to Spee's back, as the Jesuit swept quickly along the hallway to the sitting room, opened the door and passed inside.
"Father Provincial," he began, going to one knee.
"No need, Friedrich," Nickel said, rising to greet him. "Please, sit down. We have to talk, and there may not be much time."
"Does this have to do with the people who just tried to kill me in the cathedral?"
"Thank God! I was not in time to warn you, but it seems you were able to foil their aim anyway," the provincial said, sinking back into his chair.
"I think that it was not I but the Lord who foiled their aim, or at least made their pistoleer a bad shot," Spee said, smiling and taking a chair. "This has happened before, as you know, and I was spared then as well."
"For this we can thank God, then," Nickel said.
"I came straightaway, Father," Spee said, "so I have no idea who they were. They are under guard at the cathedral prison now."
"I know who they are. Or at least who sent them," Nickel said.
"They shouted the name of del Rio," Spee said quietly, hands in his lap.
"I rather thought they might," the Provincial said. "For three years now, you have been very publicly identified as the author of the Cautio Criminalis. Not only do you not deny it, most have seen the up-timer history books that say it as well."
"You know that I wrote it."
"Yes, and you have done the penance I and Father General Vitelleschi deemed appropriate for writing it contrary to the directions we gave you," Nickel said. "It is done, and it is, for the most part, well done. I agree with you that witchcraft may or may not be real, but these witch trials are hideous perversions of justice and God's law." The provincial's jaw worked.
"Unfortunately," he said, "there are those, both within the Society and without, who do not agree with us."
Spee was silent.
"It has not helped that the general has given you to Cardinal Mazzare to be 'his' Jesuit, along with Heinzerling," Nickel continued. "For those opposed to your view on witchcraft, this only further compounds your sin. You are in league with the Grantville demons who are perverting our Society, so they are saying."
"I see the fine hand of some of our Spanish brothers in this," Spee said, neutrally.
"Of course," Nickel said. "Since the pontiff has allied himself with Grantville, the Spanish crown and those of the church under its control have begun a whispering campaign, not only among the laity but among the religious as well. It seems that the pope has perhaps made league with the devil, and among the most active of his Satan-inspired associates is always the Father General Vitelleschi. Even some of our brethren in the Society have taken this point of view."
"Let me guess," Friedrich responded. "Our brother del Rio."
"Of course. Not only del Rio, but also your old friend and my predecessor as provincial, Hermann Baving. Baving appears to be the center of the campaign. Hermann still hates you, believes in witch trials as a way to rout out Protestants and unbelievers, and has many friends in our order."
"It is likely," Friedrich said, "that even with clear instructions from the father general, we might have a schism in the order over this."
"Yes. And so Father General Vitelleschi has radioed me to come to Magdeburg both for safety, and to confer with Cardinal Mazzare, and with yourself."
"Radioed?" Friedrich was rather surprised.
"Of course, radioed. Did you think the Society of Jesus so backward that we could not figure out how to design and build a radio?"
"Well, I…"
"What? Did you think that Father Kircher would not be able to tell us that you don't need a huge antenna?"
"I suppose not."
"Now you know. The radio is at Paderborn, in my rooms at the college. If you should ever need to use it, you must take somebody who knows the Code of Morse."
Nickel ran his hands through his thinning hair. "The news from Rome continues to be grim, since the Spanish attacked the Holy See. Father General Vitelleschi believes that Cardinal Borja will seek to become pope. He expects this to happen any day, and he does not believe that he, Vitelleschi, will be able to stop it. Especially since it is likely that if Borja's people catch him, or the pope, for that matter, that they'll be killed."
"We shall have a schism, then, for certain."
"Yes," Nickel said. "It is almost upon us. That is why I have come to see the cardinal. Vitelleschi is not sure what will happen, or whether he or the pope will be killed. I am to call a general assembly of the Society here in Magdeburg if he is killed, and we are to elect a successor."
"You will, of course, wish to be housed in the episcopal palace with the cardinal," Spee started.
"I will not."
"What?"
"I expect you may have an extra room here, Friedrich?"
"Well, yes, of course, Father," Spee said, "but…"
"I would rather not broadcast my presence quite yet," the provincial said. "I would rather see what happens, first."
"Your wish, Father," Spee bowed his head and sighed. And it was not yet noon, he thought.
"I need to see the cardinal," Nickel went on. "But I don't want it advertised that I am here. Can you send someone to ask for an audience?"
Young van Donck had come in the room some time before, and had quietly stood inside the door.
"Pieter will go," Spee said. Van Donck looked alert.
"Pieter, go quickly but quietly to the episcopal palace, and see if you can find Father Heinzerling. I believe he is there. Find him, and ask him to come to us, quietly please."
"Of course, Father." Van Donck gave a quick nod to Spee, and bowed his head to the provincial of the Order, and vanished out the door. He could be heard running down the hallway, and the outside door slammed with a great thud.
Spee and the provincial smiled at each other. "Ah, youth!" Nickel said.
"Shall we find something to eat while we wait?" Spee asked.
"Why not? And we can talk about better times, Friedrich," Nickel said as they went out the door and turned toward the kitchens.
"And so I have been studying the music of Grantville," Spee said. "Not just the holy music but the popular tunes. And I have written a work of Kirchenlieder, church songs, that I was rehearsing this morning in the cathedral."
"Their music is sometimes too strange for me," Nickel said. "Rock and roll, for example. Baving says it is the devil's own music, and I am not sure he is wrong, Friedrich."