Eugenio had been yearning for this moment since his eleventh birthday, counting down the days with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Now the wait was finally over.
“Nipote, let’s go to your father’s study. There are matters we need to discuss.” The grandfather’s voice was gentle yet firm, guiding the young man down the grand hallway of the house he’d grown up in.
“Yes, Grandfather,” Eugenio responded, his heart pounding with excitement and a hint of trepidation. This was it, the moment he had been eagerly awaiting all day. He was ready. His brother and cousins had guided him, prepared him for this pivotal meeting with the eldest patriarch of the family.
“Do not dare interrupt him,” Francesco had commanded, his voice laced with the authoritative tone of an elder brother.
“Listen to every word he tells you,” another cousin advised, his voice heavy with the gravity of the impending meeting.
Eugenio felt a surge of readiness; his preparation for this moment was thorough and complete.
As he stepped into the grandeur of the study, he was acutely aware this private audience with his grandfather would mark a pivotal moment in his life. It was destined to be a meeting that would forever etch itself into his memory.
“Take a seat, nipote,” the patriarch said. His voice boomed throughout the room.
Eugenio complied, his eyes never leaving his grandfather as the older man moved with a dignified grace towards the fireplace.
Marcantonio stood before the dancing flames, his eyes closed as if he was gathering his thoughts; indeed, he was preparing himself to impart wisdom and instructions that would shape his grandson’s destiny—and the world at large. The Council of the Black Nobility had convened and unanimously chosen Eugenio, Marcantonio Pacelli’s own flesh and blood, to undertake their mission. After five years of careful observation and scrutiny, they had concluded that Eugenio was the only suitable candidate within the vast Pacelli lineage capable of undertaking this prestigious and daunting task.
Eugenio watched as his grandfather stood tall and resolute by the fireplace, anticipation building within him over the words that would irrevocably alter the course of his life. The esteemed patriarch’s prolonged silence only served to amplify the gravity of the moment.
Marcantonio turned slowly, his face etched with a seriousness that was impossible to ignore. “I trust you are aware of the long-standing tradition I conduct with every young man of the Pacelli lineage,” he began.
“I do, Grandfather,” Eugenio responded, his voice steady despite the anticipation coursing through his veins.
“I must tell you, Eugenio, that the conversation we are about to have is unlike any I’ve had with your predecessors,” Marcantonio continued, his gaze unwavering.
Eugenio remained silent, his posture rigid as he braced himself for the unprecedented revelation.
“The Council has reached a definitive decision. One that I had a significant hand in shaping.” Marcantonio paused, ensuring that Eugenio was fully engaged in the moment. “It is a great honor that this commission has been chosen from our bloodline.”
Eugenio held his breath, hanging onto his grandfather’s every word, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Eugenio, it is with immense pride that I announce the Council has chosen you for the path to the papacy,” Marcantonio Pacelli declared.
The boy was taken aback. He was at a loss for words, unable to formulate a response. He could see the pride radiating from his grandfather at this supreme appointment.
Eugenio was well aware of his grandfather’s unwavering dedication to the Vatican, a commitment that spanned decades, long before Eugenio was even born. Marcantonio had been part of the entourage that accompanied Pope Pius IX into exile, serving as a political consultant and lawyer, managing Vatican affairs from a distance. The Black Nobility, recognizing the severity of this exile, decided that a new leader in Rome was needed. The Vatican’s financial stability was hanging by a thread, and without immediate intervention, the Holy See risked losing its independence and falling under Italian rule once again. The fate of the Vatican now rested upon the shoulders of Marcantonio Pacelli’s grandson.
Eugenio bowed his head and closed his eyes. “As it shall be, Grandfather.”
Marcantonio exhaled a sigh of relief upon hearing his grandson’s words. He had been certain of Eugenio’s loyalty and admiration for him, and was confident the boy would accept his destiny—however, he’d needed to hear that acceptance from Eugenio himself.
Marcantonio was filled with a sense of satisfaction knowing he could relay to the Council their chosen one had willingly accepted the monumental task. The Council had meticulously crafted a timeline for Eugenio’s ascension to the papacy, a path that would secure the Vatican’s financial stability for generations to come.
Over the course of the next hour, patriarch and grandson delved into the intricate plans and strategies the Council had devised for the boy’s future. As their meeting neared its conclusion, Marcantonio ambled towards the fireplace, his eyes fixed on a package lying on the mantel. It was wrapped in nondescript brown paper.
“This tome was unearthed in the far reaches of the Orient and recently translated into our native tongue. I want you to have it,” he said, crossing the room to hand the gift to Eugenio.
With careful hands, Eugenio unwrapped the package, revealing a copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu. The book was an oddity, its cover adorned with Chinese characters and its contents filled with ancient wisdom about warfare. Eugenio was intrigued yet puzzled as to the relevance of such a book.
“This book will serve as a guide for the mission the Council has entrusted to you. I want you to read it, study it, understand its teachings,” Marcantonio instructed, his gaze intense, ensuring his grandson grasped the importance of his words.
Eugenio met his grandfather’s gaze. “I will. Thank you, Grandfather,” he said, rising to his feet to shake the hand of the esteemed patriarch. He’d remembered Francesco’s advice to conclude the meeting with a handshake, resisting his natural inclination to embrace the beloved man who had just entrusted him with such a significant responsibility.
“I shall leave you to your thoughts now,” Marcantonio declared, his footsteps echoing ominously as he moved towards the office door. He paused, casting a final glance over his shoulder at his grandson. “I will inform the Council of your decision, Eugenio.”
The use of his birth name, rather than the usual affectionate “nipote”, sent a shiver down Eugenio’s spine. It was a clear indication of his transition from boyhood to manhood, a rite of passage that placed him on par with his older brother and cousins. He was no longer just a grandson; he was a man, a part of the elite group that held the fate of the Vatican in their hands.
As the door closed behind Marcantonio, Eugenio was left alone in the grand study. He would not emerge as his kin had prior, not yet—he was on a different path now. The weight of his choice pressed heavily upon his young shoulders. He knew the Council did not make such decisions lightly. This was a lifelong commitment, a path of servitude that would lead him into the priesthood, into the heart of the Vatican, and into the intricate web of the Black Nobility.
In his hands he held the book his grandfather had given him—The Art of War. A strange gift from the Orient. Its significance was lost on him. What did war have to do with priesthood, with the papacy? Confusion swirled in his mind, but he trusted in his grandfather’s wisdom, in the guidance that had led him to this pivotal moment in his life.
With a deep breath, he opened the book, his eyes scanning the first page as he began to read.
The Art of War
Warfare is the greatest affair of state, the basis of life and death, the Tao for survival or extinction. It must be thoroughly pondered and analyzed. Therefore, structure it according to the following five factors, comparatively evaluate it through estimation, and seek out its true nature. The first is termed the Tao, the second Heaven, the third Earth, the fourth generals, and the fifth the laws for military organization and discipline.
Warfare is the greatest affair of state? The opening sentence left Eugenio in a state of bewilderment. What possible connection could there be between the brutalities of war and the sanctity of the papacy? With a sense of trepidation and curiosity, he turned the page, delving deeper into the enigmatic text.
Warfare is the Tao of deception. Thus:
℘ Although you are capable, display incapability.
℘ When committed to employing your forces, feign inactivity.
℘ When your objective is nearby, make it appear distant.
