The news of the Pope's death had affected Murat more deeply than he'd anticipated. While he held no emotional attachment to the man, their entire infiltration plan hinged on the living presence of the Pope in the Vatican. This sudden death could upend every calculation. He felt the foundations of his strategy shift beneath his feet—but not a trace of it showed on his face.
First, he had to calm Ellie. Stepping toward the trembling young woman as she wiped tears from her face, he spoke gently: "Stay calm." Then, turning to Viki, he asked,"What exactly happened?"
Viki shook her head. "All I heard was the news of his death. But everyone was shocked. From what they say, he wasn't old, nor did he have any known illness. His death… came suddenly."
Those words echoed in Murat's mind. A Pope, healthy and still relatively young, dying without warning—this wasn't a natural end. Something stirred within him, though he couldn't yet name it.
"Alright," he said at last. "Let's go upstairs. We'll talk in the room."
Together with Ellie and Viki, he made his way up. As they climbed the creaking wooden stairs, they crossed paths with Balibey and Cafer. Murat turned immediately:
"Balibey, come with us. Cafer, find Kasim and join us in a moment."
"At once, my Sultan," Cafer replied and hurried off to retrieve Kasim. Balibey quietly followed Murat and the others upstairs.
Soon, they were all gathered in Murat's room. The air was thick with tension. Eyes scanned the room, but no one dared to speak first.
Murat looked to Viki.
"Take Ellie to your room. We need to speak privately."
Viki gave a respectful nod. "Alright," she said, gently placing a hand on Ellie's arm and guiding her out.
Once the door closed, silence lingered for a moment. Murat stepped slowly to the window, where the echo of tolling bells still trembled in the air. Then he turned to face the others.
"The news is grim," he said. "This morning… the Pope died."
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Eyes darted from one face to another; expressions filled with surprise and unease. Murat studied each of them. He knew they were all thinking the same thing: the plan might be unraveling.
He turned to Cafer.
"Cafer, I want you to go into the city at once. Find out how the Pope truly died. How long will it take to elect a new one? Will the Jubilee Year's ceremonies be delayed? Bring me real answers—trustworthy sources."
"As you command, my Sultan," Cafer replied without hesitation and swiftly exited the room.
Murat exhaled deeply, pulling back the curtain slightly to peer down at the street. Then, turning his head to Balibey:
"One way or another… this mission will go forward. If we can't enter through the door, we'll find a way through the chimney. The Pope's death will surely cause confusion. We'll turn that chaos to our advantage."
Balibey nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, my Sultan. Confusion may become our cloak."
Murat stood straighter and began pacing slowly, his voice calm but resolute:
"We may need to move the operation ahead of schedule. So be ready—as if we're leaving at any moment."
His words didn't carry the usual cold finality of a command; instead, they carried the shadow of an approaching storm. They weren't just marching toward the Vatican—they were marching into the heart of a crumbling order. And everyone in that room felt the weight of it.
The silence mixed with the drone of church bells, seeping into the pulse of history.
Meanwhile, Balibey had gone down to the inn's lower floor, hoping to learn something useful from the comings and goings. In Murat's room, only he and Kasim remained. A tense quiet filled the space, echoing off the stone walls.
Murat paced impatiently, hands clasped behind his back, brows furrowed. His mind swirled with conflicting strategies, possible scenarios clashing like swords.
Kasim watched him quietly. He could see the burden weighing on his Sultan, and he searched for alternative solutions. But every path had grown more complex with the Pope's death.
Some time had passed since Cafer left. The sun now leaned westward, casting a crimson hue across the city streets.
Finally, the door opened. Balibey stepped in first, followed by Cafer.
Murat stopped abruptly, eyes lighting up with urgency.
"Thank God… you're back. Now tell me—what did you find?"
Balibey spoke first, dipping his head respectfully:
"My Sultan, I learned little from the guests at the inn. But everyone seems stunned by the Pope's sudden death. No one expected it."
Then Cafer stepped forward. His coat was dusty—clearly he'd scoured the city.
"I went as far as the cathedral and wandered the surroundings, spoke with some priests," he said. "What Balibey said is true—people are bewildered. But from what I've gathered, the Jubilee Year has only been delayed by five days. And within fifteen days, a new Pope will be elected."
Murat narrowed his eyes. His brow furrowed even deeper.
Cafer continued, his voice growing darker:
"But the most troubling news, my Sultan… one of the papal candidates is the very man we seek. Leonardo. He is in the Vatican now, posing as a cardinal."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Murat's face hardened. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, but laced with cold resolve:
"So that's what's been gnawing at me since morning. Now it all fits. A healthy Pope, gone without reason… who else could be behind it but Leonardo?"
The others stood still, letting the weight of the revelation settle.
Murat took a few steps, then turned abruptly, face grim.
"We must stop Leonardo from becoming Pope. He is a servant of darkness. If he ascends to that seat, not only Muslims—but the entire Christian world will fall under his shadow. This is no longer a mission. It's a necessity."
Balibey, Kasim, and Cafer all nodded in unison.
"Tomorrow… we leave at first light," Murat said, in a tone that left no room for doubt. "Balibey, find us strong horses. We can't cross this path with the ones already worn. Kasim, prepare provisions and supplies. The road ahead is long and dangerous—and this time, war could erupt at any moment."
"As you command, my Sultan," they all answered.
Murat turned to the window once more. The city was slowly being swallowed by night. But within him, a fire still burned bright—ready to guide them forward.
The road to the Vatican had been set. But on that road awaited the greatest trial between faith and power.