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a pitying look on his face.
    Eckhardt spoke very clear and accurate English, and as soon as I discovered that he was not only a Reformist but a Lutheran, I began to engage him in regular conversations on the subject. Courtenay, Thomas and Niccolò, all being committed Catholics, made no attempt to join in, but would ride a little way ahead, thus affording the two of us privacy and the opportunity to develop a friendship. I told Eckhardt how comforting I found it to feel that I was at last riding through countryside where men believed as I did, and not feel threatened.
    ‘Indeed,’ he replied, ‘it is comforting and important. One day our message will carry across the world, I am sure of it, for our position is not only fair, it is eminently sensible and must be true. You will find the same atmosphere for much of your journey, although the people of the mountains in Bavaria and into Austria are very backward and remain strongly Catholic.’
    What, I asked him, was I likely to find in Venice? He gave a belly-laugh, which, though rare, was infectious.
    ‘Venice? That’s another story altogether! The Venetians say, “We are Venetians first and Christians afterward.”’ He paused. I could see he was thinking.
    ‘In any case, you cannot separate politics from religion,’ he continued. ‘Venice depends for its wealth on its independence, and it has always maintained a fierce independence from Rome. Now it’s even stronger, for the papacy supports Catholic Spain and Portugal and, over the last fifty years, since the Portuguese discovered the sea route round Africa to the east, an increasing amount of the trade that was once controlled by Venice and the Byzantine Empire is sailing into Lisbon and Cadiz. They can’t afford to let Rome take any more control – it’s their very lifeblood which is starting to leak out.’
    He paused as his horse stumbled on loose stones. ‘Religion remains, but the daily bread of religion is, as I think you might say in your country, “thickly buttered with mercantile sensibility”.’ He smiled, showing just a hint of the self-satisfaction we all feel when we are able to find and place a well-chosen phrase in another language. ‘There is something else they say in Venice: “If it makes money, pursue it today, but if not, perhaps it can wait for tomorrow”.’
    I was surprised. ‘But what about eternal damnation? Do they have no fear of that?’
    Eckhardt laughed again. ‘In Venice they believe that the fastest road to eternal damnation is not making enough money while you are young. That way, damnation arrives in the form of poverty when you are old – you don’t have to wait to die.’
    Inwardly I laughed. It had a logical simplicity to it and, although rather blasphemous, something about what he said made me think I might feel quite at home when eventually we arrived in Venice.

 
    C HAPTER 8
     
    December the 5th 1555 – Speyer, Rhine Valley
     
    We had passed through the great gates of the city and were clattering along the broad high-street between overhanging wooden houses. No doubt the streets were bustling on market days, but today they seemed strangely deserted. Ahead of us we could see the tall cathedral spires that gave the city its name.
    ‘Gentlemen, we have arrived. Twenty-six years too late to influence matters, but at least we are here.’ Eckhardt winked at me, while the others, whose conversations had not recently been focused upon the Diet of Speyer of 1529, looked at him blankly. But Eckhardt was not going to let the moment pass so easily.
    ‘Here, gentlemen, twenty-six years ago, was made the most disgraceful decision and pronouncement by the bishops gathered together. Here, also, began the protest against that decision, and the formation of the Protestant movement which has continued to gather pace ever since.’
    Thomas and the earl looked at each other and rolled their eyes. It was clear from their expressions that, while they might regard Eckhardt as a