novelSusiti Chapter 184 Who is judging whom?
Chapter 184 Who is judging whom?
The Holy Council convened again, and the atmosphere inside the Patriarchate was as cold and oppressive as ice.
Jermanos sat smugly in the chairman's seat. He surveyed the room, seeing only submissive or awe-inspiring faces. But deep within him, a lingering unease remained.
Queen Sophia's actions, like an invisible needle, pierced a corner of his vast network of public opinion. He knew he couldn't delay any longer; the longer it went on, the more complications would arise. He had to use a thunderous trial to utterly destroy Callinicus, to use the most sacred ceremony to re-establish the authority of the old bishops of the Church, and to completely mend that rift. The enlightened bishops bowed their heads, silent. The centrists avoided his gaze, not daring to meet his eyes. He needed to use this trial to force everyone to take sides. He had the whole situation under control.
Callinicus was led in by two religious guards and stood in the center of the hall. He looked even thinner than before, and his coarse cloth monk's robes seemed to hang loosely, but his back was still ramrod straight.
"Callinicus!" Yermanus's voice was like a judge proclaiming judgment, "You, in collusion with a secular monarch, attempted to seize God's property; this is the sin of greed!"
"You have distorted doctrines, spread heresies, and shaken the faith of believers; this is the sin of blasphemy!"
"You have disregarded the resolutions of the Holy Council and instigated divisions within the Church; this is the sin of arrogance!"
Yermanos listed the "crimes" one by one, his voice echoing in the empty cathedral, filled with unquestionable authority.
He was like a victorious general, inspecting his spoils of war.
"According to the canon law, I propose that Callinicus be stripped of his priesthood, excommunicated, and imprisoned for life in the confessional atop the sacred mountain until he spends the rest of his life cleansing himself of his sins!"
The final verdict, like a boulder, crashed down on Callinicus.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for his reaction. Would he kneel down and beg for mercy? Or would he roar in fury?
However, Callinicus simply listened quietly.
Just as Yermanos finished speaking and was about to ask for a vote, Callinicus raised his head.
His face showed no fear, no anger, not even sadness.
A faint, pitying smile played on his lips.
"Bishop Yermanos," he began, his voice not loud but exceptionally clear, "before judging me, I request that you, my esteemed sirs, first listen to how God's property is carefully safeguarded by His 'servants'."
After saying that, he didn't look at Yermanos again, but slowly took out a heavy leather document bag sealed with sealing wax from the inside of the tattered monk's robe.
That was the "weapon" Constantine gave him.
"Smack."
He gently placed the file bag on the table in front of him.
The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a thunderclap, exploding in everyone's hearts.
Yermanos's heart skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition instantly enveloped him.
Callinicus ignored his surprised look. He tore open the sealing wax and pulled out a thick stack of documents. They weren't theological treatises, but rather pages filled with numbers and names.
The audit report of the Royal Intelligence Service.
He cleared his throat and began to read in a flat, emotionless tone.
"Preliminary Audit Report from the Royal Commission for the Oversight of Church Property and Ethics. Audit Scope: Dioceses of Patras, Corinth, and Nafplio..."
The first name he uttered made Yermanos freeze.
"Patrême de la Paix, fiscal year 1885. Accounts for the 'St. Andrew's Cathedral Repair Fund'."
Callinicus's gaze passed over the paper and landed on Yermanos's face.
"Expense Item 1: Purchase of 'ceremonial' red wine. Supplier: Château Lafite Rothschild, Bordeaux, France. Quantity: 300 cases. Total amount: 45,000 drachmas."
A collective gasp filled the hall. Communion with Château Lafite Rothschild? Unheard of!
Yermanos's face turned a deep shade of liver. "You...you're lying! This is a fake!"
Callinicus didn't argue with him. He simply tossed a copy of the original invoice, stamped with the seal of a French winery, onto the conference table. The signature on it belonged to Yermanos's most trusted treasurer.
He continued reading.
"Expenditure Item Two: Purchase of 'Religious Artwork'. Item: Murano glass chandeliers from Venice, Italy. Quantity: Two. Total Amount: 30,000 drachmas. Installation Location: Bishop Patras's Residence, Private Banquet Hall."
"Item 3: Travel expenses for the 'Theological Seminar'. Location: Paris, France. Participants: Bishop and his entourage, a total of five people. Duration: two months. Total cost: 60,000 drachmas."
Each number was like a slap in the face, landing hard on Yermanos's cheek.
He wanted to roar, to explain, but found that his throat felt like it was blocked with a wad of cotton, and he couldn't make a sound.
Callinicus set aside the accounts of the Patras parish and picked up the second document.
"The Diocese of Corinth, under the jurisdiction of His Excellency Bishop Agassonicus."
Sitting beside Yermanos, the Corinthian bishop, known for his frugality, suddenly shuddered. He instinctively reached for the wooden cross on his chest, but found nothing—he was wearing a valuable silver cross today. His hand froze in mid-air, his face turning from white to pale, and beads of sweat trickled down his gaunt cheeks, staining his magnificent vestment with a small, dark stain.
"Land management record. Plot number 73, 'The Apostles' Olive Garden,' with an area of 120 hectares, is a church-owned perpetual tenancy."
"Leaseholder: Mr. Dmitri Gunaris, whose uncle is His Excellency De la Garces, the former Speaker of the Parliament."
"The lease agreement was signed in 1884. Annual rent: one silver coin. Lease term: ninety-nine years."
The entire audience erupted in uproar!
For the price of a single silver coin, the church's most fertile land was leased for nearly a hundred years! This is not a lease at all; it is a blatant transfer of power!
The gaunt bishop was deathly pale and sweating profusely.
Callinikos did not stop.
He read out reports one after another, like a ruthless executioner.
"The Diocese of Nafplio purchased ten tons of flour from Athens under the guise of 'relief for disaster victims,' but the warehouse records show that only three tons were actually received. The remaining seven tons were resold to local bakers, and the profits went into the bishop's private account."
"Zakynthos Monastery sold its original shares in the National Bank of Greece at a low price last year. The buyer was an offshore company registered in London, and the owner of the company was the abbot's son-in-law."
Accounts, transactions, names.
Every word was like a scalpel, precisely dissecting the rotten, maggot-infested flesh beneath the church's glamorous outer robe.
The bishops whose names were called looked ashen and slumped in their seats.
The bishops who had previously remained neutral were now filled with shock, disgust, and anger. They had never imagined that the highest levels of the church had become so shockingly corrupt!
As Yelmanos watched his painstakingly built alliance crumble in the face of this overwhelming evidence, his last shred of sanity crumbled.
"Guards! Guards! Arrest him! This devil! He's blaspheming!" he screamed hysterically.
However, not a single guard dared to move.
Callinicus gently placed the last document on the table.
He raised his head, looked around the room, and his gaze swept over the different expressions on the faces of each bishop.
Finally, his gaze settled on Yermanos.
He no longer read out those cold, hard numbers, but instead uttered his final question in a loud and mournful voice.
"Gentlemen!"
"While your cellars are overflowing with fine wines from France, the farmers of Thessaly are weeping for the folly of their children!"
"While you exchange the offerings of your believers for the stained glass chandeliers of Venice, our children, in their dark huts, yearn for even a glimmer of knowledge!"
"When you carelessly discard God's land like garbage to the relatives of the powerful, the future of our nation is sinking into darkness because of ignorance!"
His voice grew louder and louder, like rolling thunder, exploding beneath the dome of the cathedral!
"Now, tell me!"
He spread his arms wide, his large monk's robes resembling a pair of black wings, exuding the power of judgment.
"This one-tenth 'knowledge tithe'!"
"It was truly a plunder by the king!"
"Or is it our repentance to God and the people, nearly a century overdue?"
The entire hall was deathly silent.
Yermanos gasped for breath, his mouth agape like a fish out of water, but he couldn't utter a single word.
The trial is over.
It was not Callinicus who was put on trial.