Part 5 Much of the return journey to Venice was spent in pleasant discourse. More still retained suspicions about the Rose-and-Cross humanists. If they were willing to embrace Musselmen, Jews and, theoretically, even Protestants, weren't these humanists setting themselves against the Catholic Church? "In no wise," countered Tamina Spalatin, "As a Catholic myself, I continue to owe spiritual obedience to His Holiness the Pope. I confess the Nicene Creed. And I observe the feasts and fasts of the Church. But these disciplines I place on myself, not the other sons and daughters of Abraham of the different faiths. Likewise, the Muslim and Jewish siblings in our order do not enjoin me to abstain from pork." It sounded glib enough, thought More. Yet something worried him, "Those that you call 'siblings' are naught but infidels and heretics. How in the name of Christ can you associate with these?" Tamina smiled, "Truly Christ said, 'I bring not peace but a sword.' Yet if the house of Abraham is divided, how can it stand? Did our Lord and Saviour ever speak of 'infidels' and 'heretics'. Was Jesus a hermit to keep himself from all Jews, even his own family?" More would certainly grant this of Tamina - she had a honeyed tongue.

Bishop James Sadolet's preaching throughout Savoy took him closer and closer to Geneva. As always, his words contained no rebuke of the Calvinists, he spoke of naught but the love of Christ. Yet preaching of love still stood him in opposition to the stern Protestants, who spoke mainly of the terrible judgment of God in the face of man's inequities. Yet the crowds who gathered to hear Jimmy dwindled the nearer he came to Calvin's city. Whether this was due to opposition, fear or just the encroaching winter Jimmy did not know. Yet he was not discouraged. At least, not until he was captured by Calvin's men.

Spalatinus pere et fille embraced in tears and laughter. There were more tears when Tamina told George she intended to accompany More to Savoy to confront their former colleague Jean who appeared to have strayed far from the humanist path. "My daughter whom I have not seen these long years is to leave so soon? And into such danger!" "Beloved father, your daughter I am but your sister in the Order, too. Brother Christian has taught me well. It is fitting and meet that I present Calvin one last time with the demands of humanism and the Rose-and-Cross." George managed a smile through his tears, "Truly you have grown, my daughter." More's ears pricked up, as they did any time a father accused his adult daughter of growing. But George was speaking metaphorically.

Brush kindling peered unlit under the faggots on which Jimmy stood, his arms and body bound firmly to the stake. John Calvin stood close enough for Jimmy to smell the garlic on his breath. "I had hoped for a more merciful end, a beheading," the heresiarch oiled, the remains of recent meal of escagots still matting his long white beard, "Alas, my brothers on the council overruled me." "I quite understand," Jimmy replied, "Vox populi, vox Dei." Calvin reared back, as if struck. "That is not how we do business in this town!" he spat. The Protestant leader withdrew to a safe distance and gave the signal to the executioner. A burning brand was buried in the brush. "Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving kindness," said Jimmy, beginning the words of the 51st psalm, before his speech became a coughing fit as thick, acrid smoke filled his lungs.

Charles III, the Duke of Savoy, nodded gravely as More explained the failure of their first plan, "We have the proof of the arch heretic's former humanist beliefs, your Grace. We've printed pamphlets and woodcuts and your priests have preached his hypocrisy at every mass for two Sundays. "Yet Calvin rises above it all. Rather than denying, he revels in his former beliefs but loudly proclaims he is now a Reformed character." "What is to be done?" the Duke wondered, "Now it is winter Geneva is an ice fortress - impregnable." "In my experience, your Grace," More parried, "if you can but overcome the controlling will, naught is impregnable. If we can deal with Calvin the whole nest of heretics may unravel." He outlined his plan to the Duke and Tamina. Charles whistled a low note, "A desperate remedy, Sir Thomas!" More nodded, "Indeed, your Grace. But it just might work."

The windows in the castle walls - stone arches, really - were wide enough to place a crossbow. There was no glass, thus allowing bow-shot at enemies without. But against the cold alpine winter thick woollen tapestries had been placed against the arches - tapestries which could be quickly pulled down if an enemy army advanced. But no army would advance until More had sent the Duke the pre-agreed signal. Standing behind the blanket of wool More armed the crossbow and wedged it in place. He then began carefully counting down from 300 in his mind as he ducked from under the tapestry and gave Tamina the signal. She darted into the nearby study then sprang back as Calvin and three guards emerged, running towards the pair. A tortoiseshell cat also came from the room but strode in the opposite direction, tail raised high in dudgeon. May he gloat first, thought More to himself, 260, 259. "How could you abandon humanism, Monsieur Calvin?" asked Tamina quickly. "Before I kill you and your beau, Mademoiselle Spalatine," Calvin announced, answering More's unvoiced prayer, "Let me tell you why what I do is the logical consequence of humanism. For after all, what did any in our order seek but power?" "Nay, we sought knowledge," Tamina refuted him hotly. "And after such knowledge?" asked the Frenchman, "We do not seek knowledge for knowledge's sake, as the effete Greeks did, but as purposeful learning. "But in this dispensation power lies in the hands of princes. Even the papacy is in the hands of the noble Italian families.[1] For one such as I to gain real power there needs must be a revolution." 165, thought More as he said, "But why Protestantism? Isn't the reason and love of humanism revolutionary enough?" Calvin sneered, "Reason and love are well enough in their place but what good are they when you ask a soldier to die for you at an ambuscade? No. You must offer him eternal life, or better yet frighten him with eternal damnation. Revolution comes from stark choices. There will never be a revolt of the moderates. If I am to take over the world I need Protestantism, not humanism. And not just any Protestantism, not the milk-sop humanism-infested Protestantism of Luther. I need my own Protestantism," the glint in Calvin's eye became madder, "I need Calvinism!" The 'Bwa-ha-ha-ha' laugh came just as the count became 60. More's plan was progressing better than he dared hope. It was time to enter the end-game. "You'll never get away with this, Calvin" More declared. "Oh yes I will. And you and Mlle Spalatine will not stop me for you will be dead. No drawn out torture but instant death. Now! Guards, cut them down!" The three men drew their swords and advanced on Tamina and More. Three, two, one. Twang! Twang! Twang! The guards lay dead. Tamina and More each grabbed a sword and sprang at Calvin. But he was gone. There was a snick coming from behind the wooden panelling of the inner wall of the corridor. "A secret door. And he's bolted it!" declared Tamina. More retrieved his compound crossbow and reloaded. "Stand back!" he commanded, before shooting thrice against the lock. Now, by throwing his weight forward, the door opened, revealing a dimly lit passage. There was no sign of Calvin. "He has escaped," Tamina said simply. "Sadly, yes," said More, "But with him gone we can now signal Charles."

Calvin's lieutenants were hung at dawn. It was not done as a mercy. So many were the so-called pastors, doctors, elders and deacons in Geneva that there simply was not firewood enough for them all. But it was done professionally, with an absence of malice. More had seen many executions before and he considered these men well hanged. But for once a suitable sardonic comment, a bon mot as the locals would say, eluded him. He looked around for inspiration. Beyond the gibbets and the dangling bodies were the Savoyard foothills clothed in a shawl of trees, grey in the early-dawn half-light. Then rays of the morning sun lanced through the snow covered mountains in the east. The pine trees and firs came alive in innumerable hues of green. The clouds took on a pink tinge and the grey sky became blue. More thought to himself, what a wonderful world! [To be continued]

[1] In this timeline the Dutch-born Adrien Dedel does not become Pope Hadrian VI in 1522 as there are not the same pressures to elect a reformer.