Narrative Interlude n° 1: “For Saint John protects the Realm"
“Prophecies are fulfilled only by who believes in them”.
"The Diaries of Desiderius", fragmentum 11
A.D. 759
Desiderius was walking alone inside the Basilica. Nobody was to enter, apart from a special visit he was expecting. The King liked to spent some time inside empty churches. He had the word spread that he was constantly and devoting praying, but that was far from the truth. The dark and cold halls of some churches were good places to think freely, letting the stream of his thought go whenever they pleased. it was relaxing, and it really helped him see which path to choose. God knew if he needed that in that moment; for this he had chosen the Basilica of Saint John in Monza. The place was not as well kept as one could expect (one beam of two seemed to be dangerously rotten; the rumors that the local priest was stealing from the Church’s own funds, part of the reason which had attracted the king there in the first place, had to be true) and one but you could breath history inside that place, where three lombard kings, (most remarkably Rotari, the legislator) and the great Queen Teodelinda had being laid to rest until kingdom come. Well, Rotari’s eternal sleep had not been an easy one, since his very son Rodoaldus had decided to open up his tomb and steal the treasures buried inside. A king could never truly get some peace and quiet, apparently. Desiderius then remembered that the very Saint John had appeared in a vision to Rodoaldus, banishing him forever from the Church forever. When Rodoaldus had to get back inside (to what end Desiderius could not understand) a mysterious forced had repelled him, hitting the poor idiot at the throat. You don’t mess with Saint John, Desiderius mused. He half-jokingly asked the saint to grant him the same power to repel any invader from his Kingdom. He would then be openly called “The Franks’ Bane”, not the “Frank’s puppet” at his back. He could not totally blame who called him that, however: that’s how he got his crown, after all. This made him think of his biggest problem.
“Saint John, forget about that power. Could you just give our Holy Father Paul some good sense?”. He even imagined the Baptist replying “How many people at one time you wish to repel?”. A wolfish half smile appeared on the king’s face. He had four cities occupied back in retaliation for the trick of the hidden letter. Ho would have to hand them back eventually, though. For three he did not care much, but Ravenna was too high a prize, and he wanted it. He had also set things in motion for this to happen, but it was not time-not yet. Maybe he should pray for good. He kneeled in a small Chapel on the right side. There the sorry state of the Basilica was even more clear; a beam was so rotten it would crack at the first touch. He would solve this later. He reached for his sword, and laid it at the altar’s feet. He did in in an impulse, as if inspired by the Baptist. Maybe he wanted to purifiy it from the blood he had spilled? True, fe had done for the realm, but… what was the realm? And where was Paul- the Deacon, not the Pope? He should have already arrived.
For the first time in months, the king truly prayed. It had been two long tiring years since he had become king… Peace, he felt peace. Maybe he was really atoning for his sins? And then, a noise distracted him. It was a footstep, no doubt. No one was allowed inside, unless... Desiderius had already reached for his sword. His instinct had saved him. He parried and slashed back at the two men who had sneaked behind his back God knew from where.
“Death to the Frankish puppet!” yelled the shortest one. This would alarm the guards outside, but they were far. The two men were young and strong; Desiderius needed to act quickly. He dished the shortest one, his blade fleeing through the hall. The tallest was a giant, nearly as tall as…. Desiderius charged forward with cold fury. The giant, caught by surprise, moved backwards and backwards. Desiderius then with all hi weight against him, knocking him against the beam- which broke instantly, with part of the roof. A stone hit the giant neat on the head, killing him on spot. The shortest one, who had recovered his blade, came back at Desiderius. The king was tired (and aghast at the lack of support of his bloody guards) but he guessed Saint John was protecting him, as he managed to kill the man. He then went to the door, which had been closed from the inside. He opened it, and two of his guards, who had been alarmed and were trying to force through the entrance, fell inside. Desiderius looked coldly at them. Small wonder the Franks could make as they wished whenever they crossed the Alps. With a glacial calm, the King ordered “ Take the priest”.
Some hours later, Paul the Deacon, the most famous and renowned Lombard historian of all times, was brought in from of his King. His delay was suspicious, and he was from a great Friulan family- kin to the ones who had so clumsily tried and kill their own king, as the parish priest, their accomplice, had revealed. Besides, Desiderius was waiting for him in Monza, in order to give him a task “of the utmost importance”.
“Why do you think I summoned you here?” The king asked. He was coldly courteous- more precisely, he was curious.
Paul’s answer was firm and brilliant- although Desiderius could see the man was uncomfortable. Was it shock for the news, or he expected to get different news?
“Your majesty has received an offer by the Frankish king. I suppose, a proposal of bethrotal between your son Adelchi and Gisela, daughter of Pepin. I also suppose you are willing to accept, so the only reason I can think of is to go as an envoy at the Frankish court, and serve as a councilor for the young prince.”
Desiderius was pleased. He replied: “Wise man often do foolish things- they seldom do stupid things”.
“What do you mean, your majesty?”
“You are clearly clever as I remembered. You cannot be so stupid as to come here- if you were part of the plot.”
“Maybe I got word and came to play the innocent.”
Desiderius laughed. “Then you would be the boldest man, the very man I need besides my son. So, will you stand beside your king?”
“I will”.
“Good. You will travel as soon as you’re ready."
“Before I go, there is something Your Majesty should know. An old prophecy has been confirmed today.”
“Prophecies are fulfilled only by who believes in them”.
"You should write this, your majesty. Looks like a good advice to your son."
"Maybe I will. Or you will. Go on."
“An hermit said to the Emperos Constans II, who was trying to retake Italy, that the Lombard Kingdom would be invincible until the Basilica of Saint John in Monza would be cared for- and the devotion to Saint John kept strong. For Saint John protects the realm”.
“Saint John protects the realm.” Desiderius replied. Saint John had really protected him, today. This gave him and idea. “You shall be my son’s mentor and councilor. at the Frankish court, where he will wed the girl, Gisela. You shall also write the story of what happened today, then. How the Baptist summoned my sword in my hands, and how he made collapse the roof of the Chapel-as he did not bear the presence of unholy murderers in his Basilica. We order a grand reform of this most Holy temple, to make it one of the most splendid in Christendom. It will be our humble thanksgiving to Saint John, for he protects the realm!”.
“As your Majesty commands”.
“So be it. You are dismissed”.
Desiderius wanted to go to sleep, but he left that very night instead, headed for Austria [1], to spill some blood- or better said, to administer his justice. If that was what God Almighty wanted of him, so be it. “For Saint John may protect the realm, but it is Desiderius who rules it”. Whatever “the realm” was.