Chapter 43 Jadeite Gem (14)
Judgment (III)
"No, I did not accept this order voluntarily at that time. It was Emperor Sistine I who threatened me with my family--" Old Russo retorted.
Julius quickly replied, "But you just said that His Majesty took over a weak papal palace, and he did not have enough manpower and power, so why would you be afraid of His Majesty who has no real power?"
Old Russo's face turned pale: "As a devout believer, I respect and believe in your authority. This is the truth that the doctrine tells us!"
Julius laughed very lightly and quickly. "The doctrine tells you to obey His Majesty's orders, but it doesn't tell you to uphold the good virtues of being upright, kind and refraining from killing. Are you obeying the orders of His Majesty, the empty one, or the one driven by personal interests?"
There was so much sarcasm in his smile that some people started laughing as well.
Old Russo gritted his teeth, his cheek muscles bulged like a frog about to croak, and his eyeballs moved rapidly twice: "I admit that there is a little personal desire in it -"
Julius didn't wait for him to finish and began to ask questions like a machine gun: "What did you conspire in the Dulala Mansion on March 18th?"
"You claim that all the plots were ordered by the glorious Majesty. Do you have any witnesses to prove it?"
"You want to gain benefits from this, and what benefits do you mean specifically?"
Before Old Russo could make up more lies, Julius quickly raised his hand. "Of course, our one-sided statements are not enough to convince people. Why not let the participants at the time answer for us? I think the testimony of seven people is more powerful than the debate between the two of us."
The Chief Justice understood what the Secretary General meant and quickly knocked on the gavel: "Bring the witness up!"
The oak side door was opened, and led by the black-robed monk, seven lords walked in with their heads lowered. They deliberately avoided the vicious gazes from the dock and nodded to the judge.
"Gentlemen, as witnesses here, will you swear under oath that all your testimony in court is from your heart and absolutely true?"
A monk in black came up holding the Holy Book, and several lords placed their hands on the Holy Book one after another: "I swear."
"The defendants are accused of committing unforgivable mistakes during the Florence plague, and the beginning of all conspiracies was at a secret meeting on March 18. You are also accused of participating in that meeting. Please make a truthful statement on this." The Grand Justice said solemnly.
Several lords looked at each other, and a middle-aged man wearing a long curly blond wig spoke first: "I received an invitation from Lord Quentin at a dance party. He said there was a secret small party - of course, I didn't know the content of the party was so unscrupulous."
He swallowed his saliva, his eyes flickered a few times, and he skipped over this detail. In fact, no one would pursue his insignificant little thought: "After I arrived at the Du Lala Mansion, I found that the people participating in the meeting were my old friends. We are both lords of the Papal States and have always maintained a close relationship. After His Majesty invited us to Florence to participate in the Grace Festival, he has not allowed our return application. Several of us expressed uneasiness about this. They seemed to think that His Majesty had... uh, anyway, it was a very bad speculation about us, so they planned-"
When he said this, he was silent for a moment, his whole body trembling slightly. This meaningful silence reminded everyone of the tragic situation of the plague. The people who died from the plague piled up into mountains, and the flames of cremation that never went out day and night burned half of the sky over the lower city of Florence red. Everyone who couldn't sleep could see the fire of despair that symbolized death, which was almost dragging the holy city into eternal death.
"They originally wanted to start a war," another lord took over the conversation in a low and slow voice, "but war is uncontrollable, so Lord Russo finally proposed disease. Use the plague to disrupt Florence and cause unrest among the people in the lower city. This plan had already succeeded, until Your Majesty entered Florence. The people who incited the people inside were unable to carry out the next step, which caused the plan to fail halfway."
Many people realized later that the Pope, who was accused by Russo Sr. of causing the plague, was the first person to enter the epidemic area when the plague broke out.
"God has made all people equal in the face of death and disease, Lord Russo. Your Majesty, who you said wanted to use this epidemic to make a profit, was the first person who dared to step into there. Are you trying to say that Your Majesty used his own life and death as chips on the gambling table - for an illusory benefit that he didn't know whether he could get?" Julius asked.
Old Russo did not speak. The four lords beside him who were also accused looked at each other and were ready to turn against him - if they did not put Old Russo in the front now, would they be hanged on the gallows together with him? This is not betrayal, but a wise choice based on the circumstances.
At this moment, they all forgot the accusations they had made against the other seven companions when they entered the court just now.
"Please continue your statements." The Chief Justice brought the trial back on track.
The only woman among the seven lords wore a huge Romanesque hard hat with a soft veil hanging under the brim that just covered her face, completely covering her face. For a noble woman, this was the only way for her to maintain her dignity in the court under the watchful eyes of everyone.
At this moment, the female lord continued her companion's words: "Mr. Russo proposed the method of using plague. If a plague breaks out in Florence, the Pope will leave the Holy City to protect himself. We can also take the opportunity to return to the territory to protect ourselves. We - we agreed."
As soon as she finished her words, there was a huge booing in the courtroom, and someone in the audience shouted, "Devil!"
"You shall be hanged in the marketplace!"
"Hell hates your filthy, stinking souls!"
The lady lord's face turned slightly pale under her veil, but she insisted on speaking: "...This matter has nothing to do with His Majesty Saint Sistine I from beginning to end. Russo's accusations are slander."
She spoke frankly and clearly about the Pope's testimony of innocence.
Russo stared at her viciously, and slammed his fists on the long oak table in front of him: "Foolish woman! Do you think he will forgive you because of your surrender?! He has already thought about how to chop off your head!"
The expressions of the other six lords became a little strange and hesitant because of this sentence, but the female lord turned her head and glanced at Old Russo through the veil. From the gap in the veil, Old Russo was shocked to find that his rare honest warning did not arouse her vigilance. On the contrary, she seemed to have made up her mind and her tone became more fluent: "After Your Majesty entered the lower city, we knew that our plan had failed. Lord Portia guarded us more closely. We could not leave Florence in the chaos, and we could not even pass any information to the outside world. I knew that our conspiracy would eventually be exposed, so I chose to be honest with His Majesty who had returned, and won his forgiveness."
When he heard the word "forgiveness," old Russo gave a sharp, sarcastic laugh.
Raphael was unmoved by his ridicule and calmly turned the page of the book. Instead, a series of curses rang out from the audience.
"Does the defendant have any rebuttal or addition to the above testimony?" The Chief Justice banged the gavel hard and shouted at the top of his voice to drown out the boos and curses in the courtroom.
Several lords standing with Old Russo exchanged glances at the same time, and the lord standing at the edge cleared his throat: "I...I plead guilty."
Old Russo's expression changed the moment he cleared his throat. He wanted to say something, but the other three were afraid that he would say something that would drag them into trouble, so they quickly followed up: "I plead guilty!"
"I plead guilty!"
"I plead guilty!"
Julius leaned against the railing with a half-smile on his face. His deep purple eyes looked like an abyss looking down from above under the dim light. He held down his silver cane with one hand and said, "You are a little too eager. People who are not aware of the situation may suspect that the court has used improper means to force the defendant to plead guilty. Please take your time and explain clearly what crime you have committed. Or, what else do you want?"
For a moment, it seemed as if an absurd comedy performance was unfolding in the courtroom. The defendants rushed to confess their crimes, while the plaintiffs began to slowly reject their overly quick confessions.
"As the judge and Mr. Ferrante accused before, we tried to disrupt Florence with the plague and force the Holy See to flee, and then, then..." The person who spoke swallowed his saliva. Even though this was indeed what they wanted to do, when those dark and cold things were spread out in broad daylight, their limbs would still be stiff and their whole body would be cold, as if they were being stripped naked for people to see. "Then we wanted to take advantage of the chaos... to harm the Holy See."
In the end, he still vaguely summarized it as "disadvantage".
But everyone understood what he meant. For a moment, the entire court was in an uproar. People stood up from their seats and threw the small objects in their hands - folding fans, pocket watches, brooches, and stones that came from nowhere - at the people in the dock.
The monks who were maintaining law and order around the court turned a blind eye and waited for a moment before they slowly stepped forward to stop their behavior at the chief justice's shout.
Because the audience was too excited, the Chief Justice had to announce a temporary recess. The shrill and crisp bells rang out, and the bailiffs walked around the court shaking the copper bells in their hands. The judge, jury members, witnesses, and defendants quickly left through the side door. The Pope on the podium had been protected by Julius and left when the noise started in the court.
The embarrassing thing was that the witnesses and the defendants happened to go through the same door. They met in the corridor behind the door and showed uncomfortable expressions to each other. Old Russo looked at each witness like a hyena staring at a rabbit. Some of the witnesses turned their heads away guiltily, while others looked at him expressionlessly. The female lord ignored him at all and walked straight forward following the black-robed monk who led the way.
When passing by Old Russo, the old man said coldly: "Do you think he will really forgive you? Just wait for that vengeful devil to twist your head off."
The lady lord paused for a moment, her veil swaying slightly, the fine silk shimmering like waves as she moved.
The woman with her red lips curved up under the peacock blue veil and deliberately painted with the most red lipstick glanced at Old Russo, as if she saw some disgusting bug or self-righteous thing, with a trace of condescending contempt and pity in her eyes, and she whispered: "Do you think I live for myself?"
Her voice was like a whisper, but it was like a loud bell that knocked open the barrier in old Russo's mind that he couldn't understand.
He suddenly remembered something and his eyes widened in shock: "You-what did he promise you?"
The woman ignored him and walked past him with a calm and composed look.
They were guarded separately in several simple rooms, with silent black-robed monks at the door and inside the rooms. The presence of these crow-like people was intimidating in itself, making the nervous and guilty lords restless, waiting for the summoning bell to ring outside to restart the court.
But the bell was slow to ring, and in their anxiety, the whistling voices penetrated the heavy walls and hit their eardrums. The shouts were too chaotic and vague to make out the words, and they could only feel the anger that broke through everything. The shouts and roars of countless people gathered together, like a violent storm hitting the closed rooms, making the already uneasy lords even more frightened. They did not care about the surveillance of the black-robed monks, and subconsciously huddled together, like baby birds huddled together seeking the sparse comfort of their companions. Only the female lord who made the most powerful accusation was always sitting alone in the armchair.
Hearing the strange cries outside getting louder and louder, the female lord raised her head from her contemplation, walked quickly to the window and listened carefully. As she listened, her face changed, first shock, then realization, then fear, and finally it turned into a calmness as dead silent as death.
It seemed that at that moment, she suddenly understood something.
"What's that noise outside?" The lord who was imprisoned here with her couldn't help but ask.
The woman was silent for a while, then answered: "It is the death knell of hell calling us."
Having said this, she returned to her armchair without saying another word.
The others looked at each other for a moment, trying to imitate her and listen, but first the sound of uniform footsteps was heard outside the door, followed by the sound of the bell announcing the opening of the court session.
The sculpture-like black-robed monk suddenly came to life, walked towards them, and wanted to take them out.
The lords walked out of the room again with doubts and uneasiness in their hearts. Without the sound insulation of the thick door panels, the loud noise coming from outside the court hit their ears.
"Death to these devils!"
——Countless people are shouting.
"Hang these demons who want to murder Your Majesty!"
——Shouting at the top of one’s lungs.
"To hell with them! Off with their heads!"
——Men, women, young and old were all roaring.
"Evil man! Apologize to Florence!"
——The voice of the largest and lowest people in the downtown area.
"Protect His Majesty! They also want to slander the Holy See! These villains deserve to be burned to death!"
——I don’t know who shouted this, but it received a lot of praise.
The whole of Florence was shocked by this trial. People who were not qualified to enter the court surrounded it tightly. The building, which originally looked solemn and huge, became as delicate and fragile as a toy in the hands of a child surrounded by the crowd, as if it would collapse with a slight push.
The black-robed monks at the door formed a rope to block the crowd. Because they wore thorns belonging to the Papal Palace, the people waited outside respectfully. However, no one knew who leaked old Russo's words in the court, and these people were more angry than ever.
Those devils who tried to destroy Florence actually wanted to murder the Holy See. After their sinister plan failed, they even tried to slander their Pope in court? !
They surged forward in anger, wanting to rush directly into the court and kill the criminals.
The boiling emotions gathered together to form a storm that frightened everyone in the courtroom. They seemed to have lost their minds, and it seemed as if a hand was twisting them into a spear, which was held in the hand of a certain person, waiting to stab his enemy.
This was an unprecedented scene of horror. The mob held pieces of bricks and tiles picked up from the ground in their hands, and broken farm tools became their spears. Wooden sticks or wine bottles were all excellent weapons. They were like ferocious lions, tigers and hungry wolves, rushing up the steps in front of the court.
The rumbling footsteps and shouts made the glass windows in the courtroom tremble. All the people who were led back to their seats were pale and fidgety. They began to look for ways to leave subconsciously, but found in despair that except flying away from the sky, there seemed to be no way for them to pass through this group of irrational mobs unscathed.
——People who have lost their minds don’t care whether they are jurors or defendants, they will only wash away their anger with blood.
They instinctively began to pray, looking up at the stained glass statue on the dome of the Great Court, praying that God would send down a savior to take them out of this desperate situation.
Julius was walking with Raphael along the corridor from the lounge to the courtroom. They could of course hear the sound of this crazy wave, and even the ground beneath their feet was shaking.
The hem of the Pope's white robe fluttered gracefully on the ground like the tail fin of a swimming fish or the wings of a flying bird. The golden chasuble wrapped around his shoulders and waist, with the tail end falling on his waist and abdomen, creating beautiful golden waves with his steps. He walked swiftly under the gazes of the portraits on both sides, the sunlight cast from the glass windows dancing on his golden hair, splashing out a blurred luster like broken gold.
"You heard them," said Julius absently. "Do you want to answer them?"
This sentence has no clear direction and seems to apply to any party inside or outside the court.
The young Pope stood in front of the final door. Behind this thick door was a terrifying tide that could sweep away and crush anyone into pieces.
He gave a strange smile: "Of course, I am their father, the incarnation of God on earth."
Without asking the knight behind him to take action, he pushed open the door with all his strength, and the last half of his sentence floated away in the oncoming shouts.
“I never leave any prayer that comes to me hopeless.”
The author has something to say:
There is a small clue in this chapter that can connect to the previous chapter. Guess whose hand is twisting the people? 【Face-to-face question】
Today, Mr. Jiang passed away. It seemed as if I saw clearly that the wheel of history is rolling over us mercilessly. The torrent of the times really takes everyone away mercilessly. This feeling of "I live in history and witness history" has appeared frequently in the past two years. It is really hard to describe the feeling. May Mr. Jiang rest in peace.
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