The Pope Of Comber

Chapter 13

The log of Cardinal Sebastian, Early-July 1760 AD: The Manor House: Comber, County of Down, Ireland

Ciao, my future friend,

I hope that you are well and there is peace in your land and our good lord is still alive within your heart.

We have finally arrived on the first stage of our most holy-mission. We arrived without any mishaps on the morning tide that carried us into the port of Belfast.

Even with our diplomatic papers, a few bags of gold coins were still needed, to help us through customs with the minimum of fuss and the silencing of inquisitive questioners.

I am pleased to report a great change in my good friend Cardinal De Vitis.

I do believe that he is at last a changed man. I am under the understanding that he has finally expected his role in this most holy of missions.

And as such we released him from the brig of the San Giovanni just before we made port.

Unfortunately, I still trust that captain (Renzo) of the Giovanni was still in the mind of throwing the good Cardinal overboard at the slightest infraction, luckily—praises to our lord--none occurred.

We were met at the Belfast port by two local priests. Father Mc Donald and Father O'Hare, both fine upstanding men and thankfully for us Father O'Hare spoke fluent Italian.

Both the priest's had been told very little about our holy-mission. Their first task was to see us safely to the 'Manor-House' in the small village of Comber, which as it turned out, just happens to be Father O'Hare's parish.

They carried out that task with great gusto and I will mention them both with great praise in my forthcoming dispatches to Rome.

This small island of Ireland has in its time suffered many battles. Fortunately for us its people are god-fearing. Albeit, poor peasants with only the rags they stand-in and empty bellies they constantly complain about.

It is distressing to witness such things in this life. Hopefully, my future friend, in your time things will be different?

We have brought so much equipment with us that father O'Hare informed me, just the other day. That some of the village-folk in Comber believe we are some kind of travelling circus from Eastern Europe.

His comment made me laugh, and then I tried to remember the last time I had laughed? Alas, I could not remember that time!

I do not blame the people of the village believing such a thing. The tint of our skin and the fact we speak to no one outside our own little circle.

Not to mention the vast amount of carriages and wagons that are scattered about the estate grounds.

Thankfully all of the Swiss-Guards and many of the others in our party are dedicated to our mission here. The same perhaps cannot be awarded to some others. Two souls that come to mind are "Luigi Bastedo" and another huge bear of a man, of which I believe Luigi must have befriended on our journey here. The huge bear of a man's name slips my mind at this very moment, but his nickname so I am told is "The Mad-Monk".

Both he and Luigi are in separable most of the time. I can understand why Luigi is here—It was at the bequest of his father—Cardinal Afonso.

As for the "Mad-Monk" and why he is here? No one has yet given me an answer to that question. But he (The Mad-Monk) is harmless, stuttering out nonsense that pleases the guards and some others that listen to him, so we let him continue with his nonsense.