Everyone shrugged.

‘Okay, we know that’s never going to happen in Italy, but the situation in Constantinople is real, and a lot more than just the eleven million of us in Greece are worried about it.’

‘I don’t follow you,’ said Kouros, sparing Andreas the same observation.

The abbot nodded, as if fielding a question from a visiting student. ‘The Russians have long claimed that the head of the Eastern Orthodox Church belonged in Russia. Russia and its former satellites have the most members of the faith, hundreds of millions. But for over nine hundred years our church has been linked to Constantinople, while for most of that time the Russian Church existed merely to appease the Russian masses. Under the tsars, the church was their servant. After the revolution, the only god allowed in Russia was the central government. That made Russia a highly unattractive alternative to Constantinople, yet the Russian Orthodox Church long has sought to undermine, and indeed directly challenge, our Ecumenical Patriarch.

‘The West also liked keeping the Ecumenical Patriarch isolated in Constantinople, removed from his resources and access to his followers. It minimized the risk of some powerful Eastern Orthodox leader emerging who might affect the western powers’ view of “world order.”’ The abbot flashed his fingers for emphasis.

‘But things are different now. Or at least that’s what Moscow wants the world to think. Russia claims to have embraced the church anew, and that the sheer number of Orthodox followers within its borders entitles it to have the church headquartered there – when the Ecumenical Patriarch is forced out of Constantinople.’

The abbot crossed himself. ‘Can you imagine our Ecumenical Patriarch driven out of Constantinople by the Turks and into the arms of Russian control and methods? Just think of the influence it would give the Russians over its former satellites. Forget about controlling their borders, Russia will control their peoples’ souls.’