Cardinal Baggia had just seated himself in a quiet corner of the cavernous library with a book he had been studying for the last week when Strauss located him.
"Do you mind if I join you for a moment Emil?"
"Of course not Wilhelm, sit down," he said, putting the book he held aside on a conveniently placed table for the moment.
"I have something to ask of you, a task his Holiness needs carrying out with discretion."
"What kind of a task?" Baggia asked curiously.
"Locating a specific item in a book and translating it from old Latin. You would be asked to speak of this with no-one besides the Holy Father and myself," he said in a low voice.
"Why the secrecy old friend?"
"The subject matter could be considered a little on the controversial side, and he has much on his mind at the moment, without having to deal with the debate that would undoubtedly arise."
"What is the book?"
Strauss turned the heavy volume over to allow him to see the cover, and one of Baggia's eyebrows went up in surprise.
"Really? I would not have thought such things would interest him."
"They would not, under normal circumstances, but it seems circumstances are not precisely normal, at this time. Will you undertake the task?"
"Of course, what is it I am looking for?"
Strauss handed him a slip of paper with the four lines written on it.
"This is all we have? It would help immensely if there was even just a hint of the age of the prophesy, it would indicate where in the book it was likely to be."
"These four lines came from a book in Professor Langdon's possession; I didn't read any of the surrounding text. I will ask him if you can see the book," Strauss said.
"He is here?"
"Yes, his Holiness granted him a room in the guest wing for the time being."
"Then, I will ask him myself, assuming he already knows at least some of whatever is going on. I never got the chance to thank him for saving my life last year, so no-one would really be curious about why I was speaking to him now."
"As you wish, Emil," Strauss nodded, accepting the reasoning.
Baggia gathered up the book from Strauss, and silently left the room.
/x/
Robert was just acquainting himself to the simply appointed guest room when there was a light tap at the door. Moving over to open it, he blinked in surprise for a second, before inclining his head.
"Cardinal Baggia."
"Professor Langdon, could I trouble you for a moment of your time? I never had the opportunity to thank you for saving my life last year, and I would like to do so now," he said.
"Of course, come in, but there is really no need, I just did what anyone…well, anyone who wasn't an illuminati assassin…would have done," he said, stepping back to allow the elder man into the room, and offering him the single chair.
"None the less, given that only two of the six people they targeted lived, I am grateful that I am one of them, and I do thank you," Baggia said, accepting the offered seat.
"Then, you are welcome."
"I also understand you are in possession of the volume that these four lines were taken from. I would like to see it, if I may, it will aid immeasurably in locating the original source within the prophesies."
"Sure," Langdon shrugged, pulling the book out of his bag and opening it to the right place before handing it over.
Baggia read through the pages surrounding the four lines, and then nodded, a small frown creasing his forehead.
"I think I have an idea where it should be now, it is older than I would have thought, if this author is accurate."
"My mentor, Professor Reynard, he thought very highly of him, if that helps," Langdon offered, taking the book that Baggia held out to him.
"Thank you," Baggia said, rising.
"I should get to work, I hope your visit with us is less eventful than your last visit," he said, departing.
"Me too," Langdon muttered to the empty room, but somehow, he doubted it.
/x/
Strauss looked up from his papers with a frown as the telephone on his desk shrilled.
"Yes?" he asked into the receiver.
"Cardinal Baggia is here, Camerlengo, he wishes to know if you can spare him a moment," his secretary told him.
"Yes, send him in," Strauss told the young priest, hanging up.
It had been three days since he had asked his friend to look for the prophesy for them, and in that time, he had hardly caught sight of him anywhere other than at prayer.
Baggia entered, carrying the book Strauss had given him a few days previously.
"Emil," he greeted, gesturing his friend to a seat.
"Thank you," Baggia said, taking the seat and placing the book on the desk.
"I have found the prophesy you were seeking," he said without preamble.
"That was fast, I would have expected it to have taken longer to locate it, much less translate it."
"Locating it was easier than you might think, I doubt this book has been touched since it was used to get the passage marked in young Langdon's book, at least, when I checked, the author of that book was the last person to have been granted access to it, according to the records. He had left the page bookmarked with a sheet of archivists' paper. The time taken was to make sure that I was certain of my translation."
"And are you? You seem a little unsure."
"I am sure of the translation, but…it seems to be rather a grim work, and I cannot imagine why his Holiness is concerning himself with such a thing now," Baggia said.
Strauss wasn't remotely surprised to hear that it was grim, given the content of the Holy Father's nightmares.
"There is little I can tell you Emil, what little I do know, I have not been given leave to share. I will tell you when I can, I promise you that."
"Very well," Baggia sighed and rose, placing a sheet of paper that he had been holding in his hand face down on top of the book and resting his hand on it for a moment.
"If even a fraction of this comes to pass, I am not entirely certain that I want to know about it," he said with a wry quirk of his lips.
Strauss forced a faint smile in return, wondering what his old friend would have to say if he were to tell him that they suspected it had already begun.
"Thank you for doing this, my friend, it is appreciated," he said instead.
Baggia nodded briefly and left the room, already putting the thing out of his mind as an academic exercise that he would never have to give another thought to.
Strauss waited until the door was shut behind him before reaching for the page the other Cardinal had left and turning it over, his eyes scanning the neat, strong calligraphy.
"Oh dear," he murmured softly, he certainly didn't think that this was going to in any way reassure the Holy Father, or ease his sleep either. He couldn't see any point to putting it off, he would have to take it to the younger man now.
He walked up to the Pope's office and found his secretary busily going through the next month's appointments.
"Is his Holiness free for a short while?" he asked.
"Uh, sorry Camerlengo, I'm not sure, he went to his informal office about an hour ago, told me not to put any calls through. Is there anything I can pass on to him for you when he returns?"
"No, I need to speak to him in person about this; I will try his informal office."
"As you wish, Camerlengo."
Strauss turned and went to the smaller, quieter office, knocking lightly on the door.
"Who is it?" there was a hint of irritation in the Pontiff's voice, and Strauss wished he had known that he was in a bad mood before he had come down here, not that it would have made much difference, he supposed, steeling himself, he called out.
"Your Camerlengo, Holy Father, may I trouble you for a few minutes of your time?"
"Come in."
Strauss opened the door, stepping inside, and paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the minimal level of light in the room, not a bad mood then, but a bad headache, something of a surprise considering his was on painkillers for his shoulder.
"Forgive me for disturbing you when you are feeling unwell, Holy Father," he said quietly.
"It's all right, the migraine medication is working, slowly, but working, it's just easier to keep the light down in here. What was it you needed?"
"Cardinal Baggia just brought me the translation of the prophesy, I thought you would want to know straight away," he said.
"Have you read it?"
"Yes."
"Do I want to read it?" the younger man asked with a hint of his usual wry humor.
"Probably not," Strauss replied, putting the page down on the desk in front of him anyway.
"See if you can have Professor Langdon tracked down, I told him I would include him when we had the translation," he said, not looking at the page just yet.
"Yes Holy Father."
Finding him wasn't all that difficult, the Swiss Guard were keeping an eye on him, making sure that he didn't get into any mischief this time, so it was a simple matter to have one of them bring him to the office.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked after being escorted in, blinking at the darkness in the room.
"Yes, you were interested in knowing when we had the translation of the full prophesy, we have it now, if you still want to know."
"Yes," he said instantly, moving to stand by Cardinal Strauss, who stood beside the fireplace, in the small pool of mellow light cast by a lit candle on the mantle.
"If you would, Cardinal Strauss?" Patrick asked, holding out the page in the older man's direction.
"Of course, Holy Father," Strauss nodded retrieving the paper before returning to the candle's light so that he could actually read it.
When new stars birth sunders the sky
and the ancient enemy stirs once more
God's warrior sleeping in mortal guise
will awaken for the battle is nigh
Under Saints stony gaze the seal lies
hidden but to those hiding in darkness
seeking to open the lost prison
to bring to us all the eternal night
Innocent blood spilled the seal cracks
opens the way for the harbingers
working insidious in the darkness
to release the darkest one of all
Come forth the Archangel
wakened by the blood of innocence
come forth and sleep no more
to answer once more duties call
"Well, that sounds rather…violent, and bloody," Langdon said faintly when Strauss had finished speaking.
"Yes," Patrick agreed flatly.
"Under Saints stony gaze; that's out there, isn't it, St Peter's square?" the American asked looking toward the window, even though it was covered with heavy shutters.
"Yes," Patrick said again, pinching the bridge of his nose, his migraine appeared to be making a comeback.
"Is…is it suggesting that someone is going to make a sacrifice of some kind, out there in the busy square, right in front of the church, under the eyes of all the security and the police?"
"There is no need, the sacrifice was already made, the blood already spilled; the blood of a Pope was spilled there when someone attempted to murder Pope John Paul II. Only last year, the blood of a Cardinal was spilled there when the illuminati killed one of their victims there," Patrick sighed.
"Not to mention, your blood, from when Simeon hung you out of the window," Langdon added, making Strauss wince, he had never quite forgiven himself for not noticing that Simeon was a traitor, even if Patrick refused to blame him.
"Yes, mine too, I suppose."
"But what could it mean about a seal?" Strauss asked.
"I don't know for sure, there may be something in the older records of the Church, or from when they were designing the square, but going just from what the verse says, the square is the seal on a trap or prison, holding something…unpleasant…and the seal has been weakened by the blood," Patrick shrugged, closing his eyes.
"What about the Archangel?" Langdon wondered.
"By implication, more blood will be shed before the Archangel is identified, but it could be anyone, there isn't even really any need to believe it is someone in Rome," Strauss pointed out, a suspicion nagged at him though, pointing out the obvious, that there was someone right here in the Vatican who had been dreaming about something very wrong in the square before the prophesy was brought to their attention, someone who appeared to have been spared certain death at least twice by divine intervention, someone the demons he dreamed of apparently very much wanted to kill.
Looking over at the pinched, tired face of the young Pope, Strauss sternly dismissed the fanciful thoughts, surely whoever the sleeping Archangel was, they would not be prey to ailments like migraines, they would not carry the injuries, the scars, that this young man carried, it was impossible, he managed to quash the notion trying not to listen to the little whisper in the back of his mind that told him his suspicions were justified.
"So, that's it then, brick wall?" Langdon asked.
"Not necessarily, you're good at following hidden trails, faint clues; if you are willing, you could go into the archives with a one of our researchers, and see if you can find any hints about the seal, you could start with the documents pertaining to the commissioning and design of the current square, if it is a seal, someone involved in the design must have known something. Failing that, there are documents down there stretching all the way back to the very first church on this site, although they admittedly would be very fragile, and near impossible to read," Patrick said with a faint, tired smile.
Langdon looked at him, sitting shadowed beyond the circle of warm light offered by the candle, and shivered at a sudden, inexplicable chill at the sight, it was gone a moment later thought, as the Pope leaned forward to rest his arms on the edge of his desk, allowing the candlelight illuminate him.
"Are you interested, professor?" Patrick queried.
"Of course I am," Robert agreed, he didn't answer with the enthusiasm he thought he might have when being offered unparalleled access to the Vatican archives, but then again, he had never envisioned that he would be looking for something so tied up in blood, darkness, and possibly the end of the world.
"Then I will make the arrangements, thank you professor."
"I would say 'my pleasure', but…" he trailed off with a faint, wan smile, gesturing to the page Strauss still held.
"I quite understand, your escort should still be outside, he will see you back to your rooms, or wherever you were before."
When Langdon was gone, Patrick and Strauss stayed silent for almost a full five minutes, both lost in their thoughts.
"What are you going to do?" Strauss finally asked.
"About what?" Patrick murmured.
"You were right, it is only going to get worse, and you are apparently not safe when you sleep now; what are you going to do?"
"Frankly, I have no idea. There have been no nightmares since the night I was injured, but there is no guarantee the status quo will remain undisturbed; I suppose I will just have to take it as it comes. Take my three o'clock meeting would you," Patrick said, leaning back into the shadows again and pressing his hand over his eyes.
"Are you all right, Holy Father?"
"Yes, yes, I believe I would benefit from lying down in a very dark room for a little while though."
"Of course, with your permission then Holiness?"
Patrick simply nodded without taking hand away from his eyes; Strauss made the proper reverence anyway, and withdrew quietly from the room, leaving the younger man alone.
Patrick lowered his hand once he was sure Strauss was gone, clasping them lightly in his sling.
"I know you're there," he said very quietly, without opening his eyes.
tbc