At the Pope's call, Sir Emeric met with his Holiness in one of his private offices in the Papal Palace.

The Papal Guard opened the door for Sir Emeric and ushered him inside. The walls inside were lined with shelves full of scrolls and leather-bound books, some of them older than the palace itself by the looks of them. The Pope stood on the far end of the office, his hat resting on his desk.

"There you are," said the Pope as Sir Emeric entered. He fiddled with a letter opener in his hands, the sharp point pressing against the tip of his index finger.

Sir Emeric bowed his head. "You wanted to see me, your Holiness?"

"Indeed I did," said the Pope. "I thought you would like to know that the inquisitors have questioned Giradin at length and have found no sign of heresy or witchcraft." Sir Emeric sighed with relief, but his heart jumped when the Pope continued. "Nevertheless, there are a few things they have told me which seem to be... unsettling."

"This is about his mother, yes?" asked Sir Emeric.

The Pope nodded. "You know the stories of the saints. How many of them came from the wombs of whores?"

"St. Mary of Egypt was a whore," said Sir Emeric. "And St. Dismas was a thief."

The Pope's eyes narrowed. "You haven't answered my question. But, no matter. The point stands that while some saints have come from lowly and sinful origins, they are extremely rare cases. I would like to say that the forgiveness of God means that one's origins don't matter, but I know that's not the case, for Christ was born of the Blessed Virgin."

"I understand your misgivings," said Sir Emeric, "But I think they are misplaced." He shook his head. "Giradin is a pure soul, far purer than anyone born the son of a whore and working as a plague doctor should have. His virtue alone is miraculous. Then there are the healings. I personally witnessed some of his healings, and Sir Philip received one. I've seen witches heal people before, and it didn't look at all like this."

"You're quick to defend him," said the Pope. "And that's good, unless he's a replacement for Father Baynard."

Sir Emeric's pulse beat like a drum in his temples, and his skin went cold. "Your Holiness?"

The Pope pointed an accusing finger at Sir Emeric. "You listen here! Listen! I stood up for you back then, when you and many other Templars were being accused of Sodomy I personally vouched for your character. I told them that you would never break your vows of chastity, not under any circumstances, even if it was true love. Do you know how much I risked for you?"

"I do," said Sir Emeric. "And you were elected Pope nonetheless."

"I could have easily lost everything that day!" The Pope beat his fist on the desk. "So, tell me truly, is this young man a replacement for Father Baynard."

"No one can replace Father Baynard," said Sir Emeric, holding a hand over his chest. "There's still a hole in my heart from losing him. He was not my lover, as many have accused, but he was a dear friend."

The Pope's furious face softened and his brow turned from anger to sympathy. "I suppose my question wasn't entirely fair. Very well, let me rephrase. Are you in love with Giradin?"

Sir Emeric opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and bit the inside of his lip.

"That's what I thought," said the Pope with a painful groan. "So, tell me truly, do you defend him, his virtue, and his sainthood because of your love for him?"

"His virtue is precisely why I love him," said Sir Emeric. "But you need not worry about me or what I may do. I love God and the Church far more than I could ever love any mortal, even one of God's own saints."

The Pope folded his arms. "You would never lie to protect him?"

"I would never lie to you to protect him," said Sir Emeric. "But, if we were captured by Saracens or Cathar heretics, and it somehow became necessary to lie to save him..."

The Pope rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm well aware of the exceptions to your oath of honesty. Your obedience to the Church comes before any feelings or loyalty you have for him?"

"Yes, your Holiness," said Sir Emeric, firmly.

"Good," said the Pope. "Because soon he will undergo a Trial by Ordeal in order to prove his sainthood. You are not to interfere?"

Trial by Ordeal?

The Templar's heart raced at the sound of that. They were going to put Giradin in some manner of life-threatening situation, one from which only God Himself could save him.

"The Church cannot lead the people astray!" said the Pope. "Imagine what would happen if the Church declared someone a saint, but then that person was discovered to be in league with Satan. Many would say that the Church was also in league with Satan, and the Church would be split in two over who was following the true God. We need to be absolutely sure. If Giradin is a saint, then he will survive the Trial by Ordeal. If he is not, then he will die, and we will have our answer."

"But, your Holiness..." Sir Emeric bowed his head again, "I do not mean to argue, but... it's not as if saints cannot be killed. Many saints died martyrs' deaths. Christ Himself even died at the hands of people in charge of His Holy Temple. Would it not harm the Church and Christendom far more if the Church was seen to have killed a saint?"

The Pope sneered at Sir Emeric. "It's time for you to drop this. Yes, there are risks in every course of action, but I have already weighed those risks, and as the Voice of Christ on Earth you need to trust my judgment in this matter. Are we clear?"

Sir Emeric sighed. "Yes, your Holiness."

"Good. Giradin will undergo his Trial by Ordeal tomorrow. You will observe, and you will not interfere."