After the old gentleman took leave politely, Paolus was conducted to the Creatian House by Paulo, the manager. A small escort of corsairs soldiers accompanied them to the entrance, and then retired to the central wing of the villa.
Once inside the mansion, service members helped settle the entourage and the soldiers of the Pontifical Guard, in the many rooms of the house. Paulo himself indicated the Pontiff his chambers, and after making sure that everything was in order, left the room.
Paolus admired the luxury around him. It was a room decorated in Spanish Colonial Style. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and illuminated the stay warmly. A heavy carved wooden door gave access to a sizeable dresser. The bed linen sheets were finest, with costly embroidery, and a canopy allowed isolating the sleeper from outside. All the furniture was old, but perfectly preserved. The floor was of the best rustic ceramic, and was covered with heavy carpets of complex tissues. In the white stucco walls, were hanging tapestries, with old coats of arms embroidered in gold. Paolus carefully looked at. They were very ancient, and no doubt belonged to the Sephardi family.
The Pontiff turned to his three valets, and made a sign. They helped to shed their clothes and kept in the dressing room. Immediately afterwards began to pull out all the possessions of his lord and fanned out across the stay, sorting them and placing them in cabinets and shelves.
Paolus sat on a brown leather sofa and sank in thought. Miguel Sephardi seemed a good man. Just for the generosity he had shown with him, he deserved his respect. But that was all he knew of his host. It was true that Sephardi family in Crete was famous forever. Paolus remembered perfectly that surname, when his years of Corsair, as influential and important family, and the honor of its members was beyond doubt. But the Pontiff also wanted to meet the individual, not just the surname. He was sure that the opportunity he had given to dine with him at night, allow him to know more about Miguel Sephardi, and possibly more about how things were in the Corsair Empire, on which he knew nothing since 20 years.
Someone knocked on the door and appeared a Pontifical Guard Alférez, without the helmet. The soldier made a military salute and waited to be allowed to speak.
--Tell me hijo mío, what you want?
--Your Holiness, --he began-- the Field Master sent me to inform you that the place seems safe and that the Guard is covering all accesses. The local garrison of Señor Sephardi does not appear to be creating any obstacle to put our own security in the Creatian House.
--That is something more that we must thank to Señor Sephardi. --said Paolus-- Well, thank you very much Aférez, you can retire. Transmits to the Maestre my congratulations for good work.
--Su Voluntad.
When the guard left, the Pontiff stood up from the sofa with effort and came out to the hall. At the back he saw a servant of Sephardi, and approached him.
Excuse me, --Paolus asked, kindly-- can you tell me where the chapel? I would pray for a while in meditation.
--Of course sir, --he answered-- we have prepared a room right next to your chamber and the men of your entourage have already brought the objects of your cult. If you have the goodness to follow me I will lead you there.
The servant accompanied the Pontiff to a door near his bedroom, and showed it.
--It's here, señor. I will not go into it to not profane with my presence, as I'm not a follower of the religion of Deux.
--That's very considerate, amigo mío, but your presence will not profane this room. --Paolus smiled-- We are all human brothers and Deux loves us all equally. Deux loves us for who we are, not for what we believe.
The servant bowed respectfully, and Paolus entered the room-chapel. It was smaller than his, but do not more was needed. The room was dark and tenuously illuminated by candlelight that someone had carefully scattered all over the place. A kneeler was positioned in front of the symbol of Deux Machina forged in titanium, which was placed on a wooden and marble altar. The silver censer was smoking, hung from the ceiling.
The Pontiff knelt in front of the symbol and humiliated his head. Thanking again for all that he had received, he began to intone a prayer to beg for dinner with Señor Sephardi would go well.
