The Tangled Web(14)

"Sufficient unto the day . . ." someone muttered, just loudly enough to be heard.

"And it remains a crime under imperial law," Hatzfeld continued, "so when the ursurping Swede is expelled . . ."

"The bishop of Würzburg," Hoheneck bowed to Hatzfeld, "isn't there. Just his suffragan. The bishop of Würzburg is here, in Bonn."

He frowned. Hatzfeld was here in Bonn—under the archbishop's thumb. Hatzfeld's family was supporting him, so he wasn't living on the archbishop's charity the way most of the rest of the refugee Rheinland clerics were, but he still didn't like the way it looked.

"Why, I should think that is all to the good," the archbishop's confessor said, also bowing to Hatzfeld. "No problems stemming from delayed correspondence. No interceptions by the Jew Nasi and his agents. It should be possible for us to make our wishes clear to him directly. And he should be willing. Unless he is, like Schweinsberg, falling prey to the temptation to save whatever he can save."

"I have been quite consistent in my refusal to deal with the up-timers," the bishop of Würzburg said.

"So you will handle it—the investigation into the witchcraft allegations—from here?" The question came from the clerk who was taking the minutes.

"If we aren't all running away from the Swede by the time the investigation is ripe." That was the same unidentifiable under-the-breath muttering. Hoheneck wished that the men who had not been invited to the table were sitting across from him rather than behind him. He couldn't tell who it was.

"Hatzfeld can't very well go down to Fulda and hold hearings right under the up-timers' noses, much less use judicial torture while they are occupying the Stift lands," he said. "Who's going to take the depositions and keep the protocols?"

"Could we possibly get Hesse to file the complaint?" a Jesuit sitting next to Hatzfeld asked.

"Hesse? He's one of Gustavus Adolphus's strongest allies," the Capuchin said.

"Sure, but if he thought that he could bring the abbot down . . . not realizing that we have a candidate waiting in the wings to take his place." The Jesuit tapped his index finger on the table. "It wouldn't have to be Hesse himself. He's bound to have agents in Fulda."

"He has a regular liaison with the up-timers," Hatzfeld said. "One of the Boyneburgs."

"Too close. Too public," Hoheneck protested.

"Could we talk Neuhoff into going back?" the Jesuit asked. "Pretending to be reconciled to Schweinsberg? Then a couple of months later, horrified at what he has seen since his return, devastated with shock, appalled . . . you know the script . . . he files the allegations."

"It might work," Hoheneck answered. "Hermann has a pretty good reputation. And he's scholarly. He corresponds with Grotius, you know."

"Every literate person in Europe corresponds with Grotius, I think."

Hoheneck resisted turning his head to see where the sotto voce comments were coming from.

"That's no special distinction," whoever it was continued.

"Schweinsberg could hit back by accusing Neuhoff of Arminian sympathies," the Jesuit said. "That's why Grotius had to get out of the Netherlands. That would turn off the landgrave of Hesse pretty fast."

"Arminianism is a Calvinist fight—not a Catholic one." The Capuchin pushed back his hood.

"Hesse-Kassel is a Calvinist," Hoheneck pointed out.

"What difference does that make? If a slur works, use it."

Hoheneck shook his head with annoyance. It was the voice from behind him again.

"Where do we start?" That was Hatzfeld.

"Let's hire somebody to write a pamphlet," Hoheneck suggested. "Just to test the waters."

"Obscene illustrations?" the muttering voice behind him asked in a hopeful tone.

Hoheneck turned around and glared at the group of men. "If you pay for the woodcuts," he said. "Whoever you are."

"Lovely," the voice continued. It came from a little man wearing a flat hat. "The serpent's long, long tongue extending and . . ." He smiled.

"This is," the Capuchin said, "the archbishop's palace. Control your imagination, Gruyard."



"Hoheneck's getting cold feet," Archbishop Ferdinand's confessor said.

"They've never been warm," the archbishop answered. "He's a cold fish, overall. Your putting Gruyard to mutter behind him today got more of a rise out of him than I've ever seen before."

"How much practical assistance can we expect from your brothers?"

"Very little, this summer. As you know, Maximilian and Albrecht have more immediate concerns. The recent events in Bohemia have been very worrisome. Austria needs Bavaria's support."