Bipolar WINTER. Samuel David Steiner

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      How dare they commit such sins in my name. Luther angrily paced back and forth across the length of his study. How many lives had been lost to their violence? How many of his Christian brothers and sisters had lost their homes or places of worship? Striding back to his desk, Luther picked up his quill and, once again, vented his outrage on the sheets of paper. He awaited news from Leonhard Koppe, a Torgau city councilman whom Luther had enlisted to aid in the escape of nuns from the Marienthron convent in Nimbschen. Their plan was simple, but Luther believed in its success, knowing few, if any, would search among barrels of herring for the missing nuns.

      A sharp rap sounded at the door and he turned. "Come!" The door creaked open and a small boy poked his head in.

      "Uh, this letter just came for you, Professor." He held out a folded sheet of paper, the flap sealed with a glob of red wax. Martin stood and took the letter, waiting until the door had closed once more before examining it. The insignia imprinted in the wax was one he recognized, matching a letter he had received some weeks before from the Marienthron convent nun, Katharina von Bora, when she had written to beg his assistance in helping the nuns escape the monastery.

      Returning to his desk, he gently broke the seal and spread the pages of the letter out before him. The penmanship was hurried yet gentle.

      Dear Sir,

      I thank you for your assistance in our safe conduct to Wittenburg. My sisters and I shall be eternally in your debt.

      Your man Koppe told me that you intend to ask our families to admit us once again into their homes. However, you and I both know that fear of canon law is a powerful adversary. Our defection from the Church will be viewed as no less than criminal. I ask instead that you find suitable husbands for my sisters, for they are more restless for marriage than life. As for myself, I shall marry none save you. For years, my life has been yours, my instruction within the monastery dedicated to assisting you with your most important work. Yet, my tutors have become restless of late. They know, Martin. And I fear how they will counter your reformation.

      Eternally yours,

      Katharina von Bora

      Luther sat for a long moment, weighing his options. The foundation for his new church had already broken ground, taking root throughout Europe. Such flames would be hard to extinguish; yet, he knew the Mother Church was capable of doing just that. But would they? Would they risk crushing his reformation only to have to start back at the beginning? No, it was more likely they would find a way to turn what he had created to their benefit.

      He picked up his quill and retrieved a fresh sheet of paper to pen a letter to the woman he could now count among his allies. He needed to know everything she had heard from her tutors. If her role was to help him, then he would accept, if for no other reason than to extend the Mother Church's illusion of control for a little bit longer.

       Vatican City, Italy

       February 1524

      Pope Clement VII eyed the other men seated around the large oval table. Newly elected to the papacy, he was by no means unfamiliar with workings within the Apostolic Palace. He had, after all, been the principal confidant of his cousin, Pope Leo X. Some of the faces that stared back at him were ones he knew well, yet this was his first time hearing of the Septem Montes.

      Martin Luther had been a thorn in his cousin's side for most of his papacy and, now, Clement understood the truth. While Luther appeared to be in opposition to the Church, the unfolding of the Reformation was strictly controlled from behind the scenes of the Church. Until recently. Clement, however, preferred not to be involved. His hands were full with the Italian War.

      "Holy Father?" one of his cardinals asked, as the assembled clergy waited for his response.

      Clement sighed. "So, you do not believe he can be persuaded back onto the path?"

      "We have little doubt, Your Holiness," another cardinal answered. "Let us just say, his tutors were quite…thorough in instilling hatred for the Church when he was a boy."

      Cardinal Angelo, from the Kingdom of Castille, raised his hand and the pope nodded for him to speak.

      "We have a saying in my country, Holy Father, that if a bull leaves the pasture, you do not let it trample your garden. If this Martin Luther will not return to the flock, then he should be put down."

      "And lose half a century's worth of work?" a cardinal across the table bellowed. "What if the same thing happens again?"

      "Calm yourselves," Cardinal Nicholas said. The oldest and shrewdest of his cardinals had served the Apostolic Palace longer than anyone, having ascended from the position of a humble friar. "Luther is simply the first step of seven. I have no doubt the others will branch off much more smoothly."

      "Yes, but the first step is also the most important," another cardinal said. "The church Luther creates will have innumerable followers when the time comes to bring them back under our control. If we do not subjugate his church soon, we will have no guarantee of success."

      Nicholas smiled and leaned forward, resting his chin on his laced fingers. "Angelo, did you not just tell me of a promising young priest from your country?"

      "Sí, he has plans to attend the University of Alcalá within the year. But what―"

      Nicholas held up his hand, cutting the cardinal off. "Holy Father, may I suggest a different course of action?" At the pope's nod, Nicholas continued, a sly smile on his wrinkled face.

      "Since starting anew is not an option, and it seems Luther is unwilling to continue the work as outlined in Septem Montes, perhaps we should establish a new order, one that will…persuade Luther's church to fulfill its role when the time comes. This order could shepherd the other six branches as well, once they have been formed, should other unforeseen challenges arise. A society of soldiers, if you will. Christ's soldiers."

      “Definitely the shrewdest,” Clement thought, and the plan had merit. If anything, it would take the whole matter off his hands.

      "And who do you propose we get to institute such an order?" one of the cardinals asked.

      Nicholas's smile widened. "I believe Angelo's man will be just what we need."

      Chapter One|Septem MONTES

       Rome, Italy

       February 2013

      Aldo Lombardi nervously paced the large antechamber outside the pope’s private quarters within the Apostolic Palace.

       What on earth is going on? Am I really about to meet the pope?

      Just six hours earlier, he was skiing with his parents at Speikboden on the Austrian-Italian border. Coming off a particularly challenging downhill run, he had plopped in the snow to unhook his skis when two stone-faced men in black suits approached and brusquely ordered him to come with them.

      Definitely suspicious. Aldo decided it was best to ignore them. No one in their right mind would happily follow complete strangers, especially ones so impractically dressed for a day on the slopes. He scooped up his skis and turned to head back to the hotel when they blocked his path. After shoving their Pontifical Swiss Guard identification cards in his face, he quickly realized СКАЧАТЬ