‘You got it wrong again! Didn’t you? How am I supposed to plan when you keep buggering it all up?’

There was no reply.

‘What are you playing at? What the hell are you playing at?’

Still no reply.

The Pontifex sighed, looked up at the cross above the high altar, then signalled to his acolytes to help him up from his knees. He looked at his aides, who immediately averted their gaze. But Coelestinus knew what they were thinking. The old fool is losing it; has lost it, in fact. Senex bis puer: the old man is in his second childhood now. How long before we are serving a new Pope? Perhaps we had better start preparing for his successor. Who will it be? Germanus? Severianus? Pelagius? Palladius? Take your pick!

It had all...

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