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Martin straightened his back and stared at the devil sitting on the same table as him. He refused to bow his head or show his fear. He was a priest, one who was a proud and devout believer of God. This was a trial sent to him, and he wasn’t going to fail. No matter how convincing the devil was, he wouldn’t listen to her. “Let’s chat then.”
Tafel raised an eyebrow. The priest regained his composure surprisingly fast. She glanced at him and nodded. “I heard you’ve been excommunicated?”
Martin folded his hands and put them on the table, pushing away his plate of half-eaten food. “I may have been excommunicated by the church, but my faith still remains with the Lord.”
Tafel nodded. “Alright, why don’t you help me out? It’s quite obvious the church is corrupt and is straying from your lord’s intentions.”
Martin’s eye twitched. “I won’t listen to the words of a devil.”
“I’m a demon, not a devil,” Tafel said, repeating the same words she had said dozens of times. “I understand priests have a huge bias against me, but I’m not tied to the creatures from your holy book.”
Martin sneered. “That’s exactly what a devil would say.” He shook his head. “Your words may have corrupted Thomas Müntzer, but not all priests are as easy to trick as him. No doubt, you incited the peasants to revolt and placed Thomas as the spearhead of the rebellion.”
Tafel resisted the urge to scratch her head. “That’s not true,” she said and gave Martin a wry smile. “Thomas was filled with those crazy ideas long before I met him. As for inciting the peasants to revolt, that wasn’t my doing either. I just wanted to usurp the church’s foundation and use its vast network for myself, but who knew that the peasants had a really big problem with the church and elite?”
“Devils are exceptionally good at twisting the truth,” Martin said. “The ones their words reach won’t even know they’re being lied to. You feed me seemingly reasonable arguments, but you’re driving me to an incorrect conclusion. Any literate person who’s had some schooling can see through false arguments such as these.”
Tafel frowned and turned to look at Frederick III. Despite the previous intimidation, the Elector of Saxony had regained his composure. Tafel cleared her throat and gestured at Martin with her head. “Why was he excommunicated?”
Frederick made eye contact with Martin. The elector could tell the priest didn’t want him to give away any information, but the crystalline shards—the remains of the grand door—on the ground convinced him otherwise. “He was excommunicated because his ideas conflicted with the general traditions of the church. In other words, he criticized those above him, and he was excommunicated for speaking out.”
Tafel turned back to Martin. “And you don’t want to join the rebellion?”
“The peasants wish to place the elite and the church underneath them,” Martin said and wrinkled his nose. “The peasants are simply sheep while we are the shepherds. Sheep who guide themselves will only reach a bad end. There are some issues with the church, but they’re unrelated to the matters of the peasants.”
Tafel scratched her head, giving up her demeanor as a great, respectable leader. “In other words, you’re one of those greatly opposed to the peasant uprising?”
“That’s correct,” Martin said and nodded.
“Oh.” Tafel nodded in return. She waved her hand, and a portal appeared beside her. On the other end of the portal, there was a mob of peasants in a square. They were defacing the house of a noble, but they stopped their actions upon seeing the portal hovering in the air. There was a familiar face below, Thomas Müntzer’s.
“Herald of the Apocalypse! Has the plan worked out? Have you captured those of the Swabian League? What are your orders for this lowly one?”
Tafel first glared at the crazy priest. “Your map sucked. Give me a new one tomorrow. However, I did end up catching someone who thinks he’s pretty important or something. Just give him to the peasants to deal with.” She stood up, grabbed Martin by his collar, and chucked him through the portal while ignoring his protests. The portal vanished as she clapped her hands, dusting them off. She gave Frederick a small smile. “Well, now, how about you?”
Frederick swallowed. “A-are you allowed to do that?”
“Do what?” Tafel asked and raised an eyebrow.
“You, you know,” Frederick said. “Physically harm people. Aren’t you afraid of God’s punishment? In the bible, devil’s never hurt people while they were still alive, only convincing them to fall into sin. Devils are supposed to give up after failing to convince their targets, but you…, you basically handed Martin to a mob of savages.”
“Eh?” Tafel tilted her head. “Like I said, I’m not related to those devils and demons from your holy book. Besides, he was excommunicated, right? There’s no way your lord would retaliate against me because of an abandoned priest. Heck, he didn’t do anything when I did the same to non-excommunicated priests.”
Frederick reached for his glass of wine and drank a generous gulp, trying to remove the uncomfortably dry feeling in his mouth. It didn’t work. “What exactly is it that you want from me?”
“You must’ve heard of the twelve demands the peasants came up with, right?” Tafel asked. She sat back down on her chair made of ice and conjured a fireball in her hand, tossing it up and down.
“Yes, I have,” Frederick said, bobbing his head up and down.
“Well, give in to the demands,” Tafel said. “You’ll use your knights to help the peasants when they arrive here, and you’ll also convince as many people as you can to give in to the demands as well. You’re pretty rich; I don’t have any doubts about your network. If anyone doesn’t agree, just take me with you to convince them.”
Frederick nodded. “I’ll do that,” he said. “I just have one question: what’s your final goal?”
“My goal…,” Tafel said and frowned. “I want to become the leader of this Holy Roman Empire and use its resources to find my friends.”