From ‘The Good Works of Pope Celeste’ by Damian the Fae

Chief among the achievements of the young Pope was to convince several of the pagan gods that they should adopt a saintly manifestation to ensure maximum worship. Following in the footsteps of St James / Ritona, Celeste convinced Tiw, Artio and Moritasgus of this, though it was noted that whether in godly or saintly form, Moritasgus leaned towards appearing as badgers in all circumstances. Notable refusers were Osmund Lord Shipwright and Braith Goddess of Vengeance. Rumours that Saint James the Greater took two more pagan forms for the purposes of conducting illicit liaisons with St Gavin of Revesby were declared to be scurrilous rumour with only a little basis in truth by the “earnest and well-behaved Pope” (a direct quote from St James the Greater).

In later life Pope Celeste was a tireless campaigner for the rights of Fae not only to marry mortals but also for Fae spouses and children to be recognised in inheritance rights and other laws pertaining to land. It is widely believed that the Papal Bull which brought this into Church law was passed as a memorial to her, as signing this was the first act of her successor, Pope Innocent IV. Only a few years after the Bull permitting Fae marriages to be rendered null and void upon the passing of half the expected lifetime of the Fae was also passed.

Celeste settled down by the fire with a cup of hot spiced mead and drew her robes around herself. It had been a long day – several of the priests were complaining that their new duties in regulating secular and religious law were leaving them with considerably less time to go pilgrimaging, and some of the shrines were being neglected as a result. Celeste wasn’t sure this was the case – the shrines of St Adela, in particular, appeared to be gleaming with offerings. She suspected that this was a bit of a ploy by the Inquisition to attempt to get more offerings to discreetly squirrel away for Boniface.

A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts and she wondered who would be out and about on a cold night like this – a poor beggar demanding shelter, no doubt. Opening the door, she was unsurprised to see desperate, bedragged figures, their hands outstretched for aid.

“Let us in, Celeste, it’s freezing out here,” said James, pushing past her and into the warmth. “Mmmmm – spiced mead. We haven’t had any of that since-“

“Thirty minutes ago,” St Gavin said dryly. “You nipped by Hector’s to see how he’s getting on and stayed for hours, ostensibly chatting about legal reform, but actually trying to find out gossip about Ludovic and Edythe and Queen Samuel.”

St James the Greater tried to look abashed, but it clearly didn’t come easily to him and the mournful expression soon morphed into a cheeky grin. “Hector was saying,” he began, “that the Karlson family are stirring up rebellion among the poor and downtrodden again. They’re invoking Braith and complaining about the price of sugarbread.”

“Sugarbread is only expensive because poisoning people with it has become something of a tradition,” Celeste replied, slightly irritably. “I spend half my life dealing with the saints and the other half sending people out to try cases of sugarbread poisoning.”

“It’s a bit bigger this time,” Gavin said. “Jamal and his young daughter Ishri – who is really too young to be drawn into this – are threatening to poison the Collegium at Camelot unless their demands are met. The Collegium are somewhat embarrassed – it looks really bad to be crushing helpless people – and compared to them everyone’s helpless. Also the Demiurge of Change point-blank refused to do anything about it on the grounds that she’s not going near Jamal in case he names something else after her.”

Celeste sighed. “I’ll get my cassock.”