Hunger's Brides (93 page)

In this season, the cassock the man wears is black, its piping, like its cincture, purple. The hair is a light brown, his eyes large and dark. The other men sit once he is seated. The young aristocrat is briefly chagrined that he has not been shown the same courtesy.

“Refreshments, Excellency?” the Master Examiner asks. “Water? Nothing at all …?”The secretary leaves the room. The servant follows. “We'll begin, then. Your time in the capital is short—at least for now. Our foreign visitor, you know. And don Francisco here, as the Viceroy's representative, comes as a neutral observer.”

The Spanish gentleman sits with his elbows on the armrests, fingertips resting lightly on the gloves in his lap. He inclines his head towards the man by the window. The Master Examiner continues, “In the unfortunate event that His Grace the Archbishop were no longer able to carry out his functions, the Viceroy would share our need to have as much warning as possible—”

The Viceroy's man raises a hand in a gesture of caution. “But I am also
here to prevent any unpleasantness attaching to the Viceroy—that is, if his spiritual director
or
the Viceregal Cosmographer were ever indicted. Our particular interest would be any evidence connecting don Carlos with the Creole seditionists, which is of course a secular matter. Your cooperation will be noted. And of course, appreciated.”

“Naturally. As will yours be by us, if your own investigations link these new pamphleteers to the ones publishing slanders against the Archbishop.”

“And writing that filth on his walls.”

“As on the Viceroy's, yes.”

“I should not be at all surprised,” says the Spanish gentleman, “to discover that they use the same printer.”

“Yes, don Francisco, they might.” The Master Examiner turns back to the Bishop. “Our new
Calificador
, you have met.”

The red-bearded man shifts in his seat. “Lord Bishop.”

“And Prosecutor Ulloa here is with us so as to be familiar with these proceedings from the outset. Ulloa?”

“Even in complicated cases, Excellency, some of our best evidence is gathered through simple tactics,” says the Prosecutor. “The simplest have stood the test of time. Apply pressure, watch for cracks. How and where depends upon the case, with which I am just now acquainting myself….”

Master Examiner Dorantes glances at the red-bearded man.

The Calificador smiles affably. “Perhaps, Prosecutor Ulloa, I might begin. Having learned of the so-called
Athenagoric Letter
from an old associate in Puebla, I felt it my duty to obtain a copy of the printer's proof and show it to His Grace the Archbishop. To whose quarters I was accompanied by Master Examiner Dorantes, two weeks ago today. November 22nd. Understandably His Grace, who had taken to his bed, takes this attack on the Jesuit Vieyra as one upon himself. He has been nothing if not loyal—”

“To a man vehemently suspected of heresy,” puts in the Prosecutor, “whom our Office in Portugal has once condemned and now has under examination again.”

“I next expressed to His Grace,” the Calificador continues mildly,“my bitter regret at not having heard of the nun's letter of attack earlier, given his recently announced intention to deliver a more recent sermon by this same Jesuit Vieyra. For then I might have spared His Grace this
added … awkwardness. Once he had regained mastery of his emotions—and my visit was not without its harrowing moments—I did point out how things might have been much worse.”

“And did His Grace the Archbishop wonder how they might?”

“He did, Lord Bishop.” The Calificador smiles. “To which I answered, first, that the attack was published, taking it out of the realm of vague rumour and into one where we may prosecute. Second, that the
Letter
was signed, saving us valuable time. And third, that if the Archbishop would care to consider the matter philosophically, the prologue by this Sor Philothea—who has thus done our Office a great favour in arranging for publication—significantly rebukes its author for her worldly pride and vanity, thereby mitigating what would otherwise be a most grievous insult to the veneration in which His Grace is everywhere held.”

Not quite pleased with the tone, Master Examiner Dorantes takes over the recitation himself. “The purpose of the visit was to put the full weight of this Office at His Grace's disposal. Unfortunately Father Núñez has allowed himself to be absent during this moment of distress.”

“If you'll permit me, Fray Dorantes? At this point we were able to confirm that His Grace had been unaware of Father Núñez's own criticisms of the Jesuit Vieyra directly after the sermon. The Archbishop was so incredulous that it was fortunate I had witnessed Núñez's refutation myself in his chambers, and could confirm it personally.”

During the interruption the Master Examiner sits quietly contemplating a point near the centre of his desktop, a scratch in the varnish, an ink spot. He lets another moment pass before concluding his report to the Bishop.

“Our discussion turned to certain speculations, lent substance by the timing of his absence, about Antonio Núñez's possible duplicity in this
Athenagoric Letter
. That it seemed close to using Núñez's own arguments from the rectory that day. This did little to quiet the Archbishop's unrest. The idea of cancelling his own participation in Gaudete Sunday and the Nativity was entirely the Archbishop's idea. I did caution that his absence on two such holy occasions would only draw further public attention to the affair and fuel the most unhealthy speculations. At this point, speaking more to himself than to us, he raised the possibility of going ‘home' to Michoacan for the entire season.”

In the chair beside the window the Bishop sits unmoving, his expression neutral, the large, dark eyes extraordinarily alive.

“There we have the Archbishop's reaction. Meanwhile the affairs of
this Office do not rest, in any season. We have a disinterested party ready to make a formal denunciation of the text as heretical, when the moment to increase the pressure arrives. A series of anonymous leaflets has already been written, taking the denunciation further. Our printers are standing by. As to the
Letter's
author, the Viscount here has been good enough to accept our invitation.”

“Anything to oblige the Holy Office.”

“The Lord Bishop mentioned to us your business here, and that you are so recently arrived. What you may speak to are her current resources in Europe. We have our own assessments. But we will add yours to the file.”

“Yes, do feel entirely free. In return I shall be grateful for any intelligence you may be able to provide, and especially for material assistance with travel permits. As you may know,” he turns to the Bishop, who seems to be looking not quite at him, “I am charged by my King with the mission of bringing one or, ideally, both of them—a matched pair, as it were—back to Versailles. If forced to choose, his preference is for her but he understands that her vows make this is a matter of some delicacy. So I must ask you one last time, Lord Bishop, is there no way of securing the necessary permission to have her taken?”

Raising his left hand to the curtain, the Bishop inspects something farther up Puente de la Aduana street. To the beating of drums and coronet fanfares, students of the Jesuit College of San Pedro y San Pablo are advancing on the Plaza of Santo Domingo; it is the
procesión burlesco
that by custom marks the six-week break in instruction. During his boyhood in Spain, the Bishop himself participated in several, though perhaps not quite matching the notorious Mexican exuberance. As in Spain, such displays offer useful glimpses of issues of concern to a diocese. In the street now the theme is a common one, the world upside down. Men costumed as women, women as males, others as fanciful animals, feet waving in the air and heads dragging along the ground. Still others as infants holding up placards marked
Senility
, or dressed as prostitutes waving
Chastity
. … But what has caught the Bishop's interest is at the head of the procession. A giant on stilts garbed in a purple chasuble, over it, a prisoner's
sambenito
, and on this Archbishop Aguiar's coat of arms. A horn sprouts on each side of the mitre. Costumed bulls and fighting cocks caper just out of reach as the Archbishop whirls and staggers and lays all about him with his wood sabre….

The Bishop continues to gaze out the window. In the plaza the lamps of the workshops burn bright. Apothecary, printer and engraver, candlemaker, carpenter, farrier … the last straggle of communicants after Vespers.

Imperturbably watching the young aristocrat's colour mount, the Master Examiner eventually answers. “The nun, Viscount, is a problem of our own creation. We do not need France to solve it for us.”

“It is of course as you wish,” the Viscount says with elaborate casualness, “but if I may not have her and therefore may not have both, I must absolutely have him. His Majesty is remarkably uninterested in failure, even mine.”

“Your King should thank us.”

“He may thank you, but he will not thank me. He had his hopes set on her.”

“It would be irresponsible of us to turn such a pox loose within his borders.”

“A pox against which even an ocean, I notice, has not so far imposed a perfect quarantine.”

“Do not trouble yourself unduly. The reach of our Office is long. As for the other one, you do understand that should he be called before the Tribunal, we can reach him even in Versailles.”

“My mission is to get him there, not guarantee his piety.”

“I remind the Master Examiner,” interjects the Viceroy's representative, “that we have as yet heard no evidence of misconduct—ecclesiastic or civil. We are speaking of a distinguished natural philosopher—”

“Not an occupation that this Office inclines to take as an endorsement.”

“The most distinguished in all the Spanish dominions.”

“That he finds so few colleagues
in
the Spanish dominions we take as cause for rejoicing.”

“Rather take it as a reminder, Doctor Dorantes—that I am here because his maps and studies have rendered valuable service to the Viceroy and to our King.”

“Reminding me,” says the Viscount, “of my services to mine. So, gentlemen, if I might continue, I should be going soon.” The Viscount rises as though to announce a considerable grandiloquence. “As I was leaving Spain it was vividly impressed upon me that the support of the Countess of Paredes is unshakeable. On the other hand her husband's family's fortunes are, as you know, at the moment somewhat vulnerable.
Her husband's brother, the Duke de Medinaceli, is more likely to be recalled to Madrid on charges of treason than to be reinstated as the King's Prime Minister.

“Less favourable to your purposes, however, were the rumours of a mission to solicit the support of Christina of Sweden whose influence in Rome went to the highest level, as you know. I neither expect nor care to be privy to the finer details of your affairs here, but I assume it is more than hazard that none other than Christina apparently intervened with the Pope to secure for this Jesuit, Vieyra, his first pardon from the Inquisition. A papal exoneration of all past
and future charges
of heresy? My dear friends, it seems quite fantastic to me. The mind fairly boggles at the sums to be made trafficking in such blanket pardons.” The Viscount continues with an amused frown, “No—as I say, the finer details are not for me…. But had the Pope been similarly persuaded to offer such a pardon to your nun, I suspect you would have gladly surrendered her to my King after all, as I shall be so ruefully telling him.

“But there is Providence for you,” he shrugs. “As to the first collection—this
Inundación Castálida
—it has proved wildly popular among ladies of the finer sort. That said, neither the collection nor her name is as yet well known to the other courts of Europe. Were the ties that bind the thrones of Spain and France not so very close, she would not yet be known in Versailles either. But I can also assure you, and I travel as widely as I read, there are not three poets in all of Europe today writing at this level. In ten years or even five, your nun may not need a Christina to be heard in Rome. There, Master Examiner, you have my assessment.”

“One that gives no further cause to expect interference from Europe, which fits with our own assessment. Thank you, Viscount. So we have, in the matter of the
Letter
, the means to apply pressure to a number of points at once, as Prosecutor Ulloa has put it. Our anvil, let us say. Similarly, there are a number of potential hammers, one being a line of inquiry we have maintained for many years…. I apologize, Ulloa, for waiting until this morning to turn this other file over to you. But you will have read enough by now to understand why.”

Glancing over at the two outsiders, the Master Examiner continues, his tone neutral. “Whenever a widely respected servant of Holy Mother Church has used her auspices to win widespread trust and high esteem, there are repercussions when that individual is condemned to the stake. Upsets are to be expected, divisions within the Church itself, even within
our Office. The trial of the Franciscan Fray Manuel de Cuadros fifteen years ago is an incident that I am sure the Lord Bishop well remembers. The charges were of a varied character. Some minor, most not. Eventually Brother Cuadros was persuaded to make a full confession and, as often happens, confessed to particulars unknown till then to us. Particulars to be found, Prosecutor Ulloa, in the dossier you now hold. I was at the time only an assistant to one of the examiners on the case, and so had little direct contact with the man. Antonio Núñez, on the other hand, whose task it was to secure his full repentance, spent a great deal of time with him. We were able to secure a number of manuscripts—translations and the like—enough of them to make his sentence inescapable. But certain other papers vanished. Heretical monographs on Indian practices. Blasphemous comparisons of their demonic rites to our most holy sacraments, or rather of these to … cannibalism. The examining magistrates were confident of seizing them in a raid that was to be carried out the next day. But by then they had disappeared. Fray Cuadros, a stubborn man, could not be induced to give testimony confirming our suspicions, but all the signs at the time pointed towards Carlos Sigüenza, who was prudently absent during the trial. We had drawn up plans to move against him, but after the Franciscan was burned, feelings in the Church and within this Office were, as I say, divided. The Archbishop of the time, being also our Viceroy, urged us to wait until we had more conclusive information. To date, it has not surfaced.