Sabina

by C. De Melo

  She offered him a heartfelt smile. “I’m enjoying it very much, thank you. You’ll have to make time to visit me someday.”

  “I may accept your invitation.”

  “I hope you do. You’ve been missed, Lorenzo,” she confessed. “Congratulations on your recent victory, and welcome home.”

  “The victory is insignificant compared to the losses we’ve suffered.”

  “Yes, but things will soon change for the better.”

  “Will they? Look around you. Everything is different now.” His eyes swept over the many guests making merry around them. “I’m not the same man, Sabina. Florence is not the same city.”

  “I know.”

  “Times are changing. The people, their ideals—everything is changing right before our very eyes.” He sighed tiredly. “I wish my brother was here with me now.”

  “We all miss Giuliano.”

  “I’ve thought about that dreadful day many times over,” he whispered fiercely. “I wonder what I could have done differently to prevent his death.”

  Lorenzo was under tremendous stress and his guilty conscience only wore him down further. Sabina leaned forward and tenderly kissed his cheek, making him look at her in surprise.

  “I see you torture yourself over Giuliano’s death and it breaks my heart. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent it.” She boldly reached for his hand. “You granted me access to your library, now let me return the favor. My new home is humble, but there’s a delightful little courtyard with a fountain. It’s blissfully quiet and peaceful but, more importantly, it’s private. I can hide from the world and forget my troubles there—so can you. Whenever you want to. I’ll make a copy of the key to the gate for you.”

  Lorenzo was intrigued, and her invitation was tempting. Sabina was maturing into the type of woman who could cast a spell upon a man and have him eating out of the palm of her hand before he even realized it. He grasped her hand suddenly. “Come.”

  She almost stumbled over one of the peacocks roaming throughout the courtyard as he tugged her forward. Several eyes followed them, including Angelina Bardi’s.

  Sabina whispered, “Where are we going?”

  Lorenzo did not reply. He led her through a maze of hallways until they stood by the door of his library. “What do you think of me?”

  She was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  Lorenzo gripped her shoulders and his dark eyes searched her face with such intensity that she instinctively pulled away. “As a man, Sabina. Am I a heathen for what I’ve done?”

  She saw the pain in his eyes, heard the desperation in his voice. “For incurring the Vatican’s disapproval?”

  He nodded curtly and fumbled for the key to unlock the door. “Ah, yes, the excommunication from the pope,” he muttered, shaking his head in disgust as they entered the small space. “He’s scheming against me as we speak.”

  “The church leaders of Tuscany are still on your side,” she pointed out as he closed the door behind them. “They said you had every right to avenge Giuliano and bring his murderers to justice. The pope’s decision was wrong. He’s no man of God as far as I’m concerned.”

  For a woman to say such a thing was not only improper, it was dangerous. The fact that Sabina spoke her mind only deepened Lorenzo’s trust. “I’m not concerned with Holy Mother Church or the pope,” he said. “I’m concerned about me, about being a good man…I’m concerned for my immortal soul.”

  With so much blood on his hands, it was no surprise his conscience felt heavy. He should be speaking with a priest, not me. “Why would you ask me such a question, Lorenzo? I’m only a woman.”

  “A woman who thinks like a man. A woman who was married to one of my oldest and dearest friends; he was like a father to me. Tommaso trusted you and so do I.”

  “But still only a woman,” she reasoned. “I’m in no position to—”

  “You’re perceptive, intelligent, and honest…I’ve grown fond of you, Sabina, and I value your opinion.”

  “Perhaps a priest would be—”

  He cut her off again, and this time his eyes blazed. “Am I a monster?”

  Dressed in somber black with his dark hair neatly combed back from his forehead, he looked formidable yet elegant. The dark shadows under his eyes betrayed restless nights; a tortured soul. As intimidating as he could be, as feared as he was by many, in that instant, Lorenzo de’ Medici was as fragile as a little boy.

  Gently placing her palm against his cheek, she said, “You are no monster, Lorenzo. Banish the thought from your head immediately.”

  Hearing her words, he clasped her wrist and held her hand in place. “You speak as my friend.”

  “I speak the truth. Do you not remember how the people shouted your name in the streets on that dark day? Is it not obvious they love you? We all love you. Surely, that brings you some measure of comfort?”

  “The people would love you, too, if you entertained them and fed them the way I have all these years.”

  “It’s more than that, and you know it. Look at everything you’ve done for Florence—the art, the schools, the orphanages, the public feasts. You’re a generous patron who has brought honor and glory to this city. The people love you because you’re a remarkable man and a wise ruler. What you did to the Pazzi and the other traitors was unpleasant—bestial even—but necessary.”

  “Some say that I went too far.”

  “They murdered your innocent brother in cold blood during Easter Mass. They committed sacrilege on top of mortal sin.” She added icily, “They deserved to die.”

  Lorenzo was stunned by her vehemence and loyalty to him. “They would have killed me were it not for you.”

  “I thank God every day for sparing your life.”

  He studied her intently with an expression she could not discern. Suddenly, he pushed her against a bookcase and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Overwhelmed by his ferocity and the spicy scent of his skin, Sabina was momentarily swept up in the madness. His hand slid down her back, pulling her tightly against him.

  She felt him harden against her thigh and whispered, “Lorenzo…”

  He stepped back abruptly, his breathing ragged, his eyes unusually bright. They stared at one another in shocked surprise.

  Placing both hands against his chest, she stammered, “I…I think it’s best—I should get back.”

  “Yes, you should,” he agreed huskily. When she hesitated, he added, “You should go now.”

  Sabina fled the library and almost ran into Angelina in the hallway. Her curls bobbed up and down as she stopped short to avoid collision. She looked from Sabina to Lorenzo, then to Sabina’s mouth.

  “Angelina, my dear,” Lorenzo said from inside the library. “Come and see my new book.”

  “You bitch,” Angelina said to Sabina before walking into the library and closing the door.

  Stunned, Sabina stood in the hallway. A moment later, the unmistakable sounds of kissing and moaning came through the door. Leaning against the wall, she pressed her fingers to her throbbing lips. She could still feel Lorenzo’s kiss, taste his mouth…

  She walked away quickly, her mind reeling.

  Massimo spotted Sabina as she entered the main hall, and pretended to greet her formally. “Where were you?”

  She smiled. “I was with Lorenzo.”

  He brought her knuckles to his lips. “He’s in love with you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m serious. He mentions your name far too many times for my taste—and my cousin’s, for that matter.”

  “Does he really mention me often?”

  “Yes.” His eyebrow shot upward. “Does that please you?”

  “Your jealousy is rather charming.”

  He discreetly placed his lips to her ear. “Oh, the things I would do to you right now…I can’t blame Lorenzo if he’s in love with you. After all, what chance does a mortal man have against a goddess?”

  She laughed
at his outrageous flattery.

  He continued, “Accompany me to the garden. The sky is filled with shining stars and the full moon is rising.”

  “Do you think it wise? People will talk if we wander off alone.”

  “On a night as magical as this, who can resist temptation?”

  A peacock strutted past them. “Oh, look!”

  “I gave Clarice the idea for the peacocks, you know.”

  “They’re splendid.”

  “Yet they pale in comparison to your beauty and charm.”

  “Please, Massimo, we must be discreet.”

  “Come to the garden. I’ll take you into a dark corner and—”

  “Sabina!” Camelia exclaimed. They both turned their heads. “Hello, Massimo, what a surprise to see you here.”

  Sabina happily embraced her friend. Massimo tried to hide his disappointment as he bowed over the older woman’s hand.

  Camelia looked from Sabina to Massimo with a knowing grin. “Was I interrupting anything?”

  “Not at all,” Sabina replied smoothly. “How are you?”

  “Fine, aside from the normal aches and pains of old age. I wanted to tell you about Signora Berta’s daughter. Apparently, she caught her husband—”

  Signore Adolfo appeared at his wife’s side and, after inclining his head at Sabina and Massimo, said, “The podestà’s wife wishes to have a word with you, my dear.”

  Camelia placed her hand on Sabina’s arm. “I’ll speak to you in a bit.”

  “Camelia loves to gossip, doesn’t she?” Massimo said when they were alone again. “Let’s go outside.”

  “Men gossip, too.” Sabina said, following him into the garden.

  They strolled the pebbled path and he led her into a shadowy corner where they were hidden by fruit trees and flower bushes. There, he plundered her mouth and fondled her breast.

  “I’m coming home with you tonight,” he said between kisses.

  “Someone is going to see us,” she whispered, pulling away.

  “Stop worrying. No one is around.”

  She stiffened in his embrace and he sighed in frustration. They walked nonchalantly toward the courtyard where three old women had gathered to gossip. They looked at Massimo and Sabina suspiciously before delving back into their conversation. The minstrels played gaily as some of the guests participated in a lively dance. Servants carried out trays filled with sweetmeats and a variety of delicacies, then set them on long tables.

  “Wait here, dearest, while I get us some wine,” Massimo said.

  Sabina watched his broad shoulders cut through the throng of guests. She heard the tinkling sound of Angelina’s laughter and spotted her by the tables. Apparently, her tryst with Lorenzo had been brief. Massimo picked up two goblets of wine and Angelina beckoned him to lean closer so that she could whisper in his ear.

  Accepting a glass goblet from him a moment later, Sabina demanded, “What was that all about?”

  “What?”

  “Angelina Bardi whispered in your ear.”

  He feigned shock. “Sabina Rossi, are you jealous?”

  “The correct word is curious.”

  “She made a few banal comments about the evening’s entertainment. Nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

  One of Massimo’s acquaintances stopped to greet him. As the two men chatted, Sabina took a sip of the wine. It tasted bitter, but she was thirsty and took another swallow. This time, the bitterness was enough to make her recoil in disgust. She handed the half-empty goblet to a passing servant and put a hand to her forehead.

  Noticing this, Massimo inquired, “Are you all right?”

  “I think I drank the wine too quickly. It tasted bitter.”

  “Lorenzo de’ Medici serve bad wine? Never!”

  “You have a good…point,” she said breathlessly.

  “It could be a combination of the excitement and the heat.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, her voice sounding far-off to her own ears.

  “You look terribly pale.”

  A buzzing sound filled her ears and she swayed from dizziness. Her limbs became heavy as lead and she felt suddenly queasy. She caught Lorenzo’s eye from across the room. His face registered worry and fear as he excused himself from a group of men.

  Massimo took a step closer. “Sabina?”

  She staggered against him, causing the goblet in his hand to fall and shatter against the tiled floor. “I think I’m going to be ill.”

  The last thing Sabina saw before everything went black was Lorenzo running toward her. As her knees buckled and gave way, he scooped her up effortlessly in his arms.

  Ascending the stairs, Lorenzo shouted, “Summon my physician!”

  Sabina awoke in a strange bedroom where two female servants fretted over her. She tried to lean on her elbow, retched, and vomited violently in the wooden bucket one of the girls placed below her chin. The taste in her mouth was vile. Her stomach was in pain and she was drenched with perspiration. Black spittle pooled on her lower lip.

  “Where…am…”

  “Do not speak, Signora. Save your strength. Signore Lorenzo’s physician has arrived,” said the girl holding the bucket.

  Sabina heard the voices of Massimo and Lorenzo outside the closed door. The room spun out of control and she closed her eyes tightly to stop the nausea. The door creaked open. A distinguished older man peered down at her and frowned when he noticed that her tongue and teeth were black.

  “Who told you to administer charcoal?”

  “Signore Lorenzo did,” replied one of the girls. “We mixed it with water and forced it down her throat.”

  “Has she been vomiting since then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me see that bucket.”

  The girl handed him the bucket, and he covered his nose with a linen handkerchief as he looked inside. “Hmmm,” he said. “Did you drink wine before fainting, Signora?”

  Sabina replied in a weak voice, “Yes.”

  “Did you eat anything?”

  She shook her head.

  “Lay back.”

  She obeyed and he proceeded to gently press various points of her abdomen with his fingers. When she flinched in pain, he asked, “Did the wine taste bitter?”

  She nodded feebly.

  He leaned closer. “I regret to tell you this, but you’ve been poisoned. Thankfully, Signore Lorenzo acted wisely and in a timely manner. The charcoal has expelled most of the toxin from your body.”

  Poisoned? Sabina could only stare at him in disbelief.

  “Signore Lorenzo insists that you spend the night where you’ll be under constant supervision. I’m going to administer a remedy to soothe your stomach and help you sleep.”

  The physician made her swallow a strange tasting serum that made her want to retch again, then thanked him.

  “Do not let anyone else come in,” Sabina whispered to the girl after the physician had departed.

  ***

  Massimo, Camelia, and Lorenzo were waiting in the hallway to bombard the physician with questions.

  “She is young and strong.” Looking at Lorenzo, the physician added, “The charcoal was administered in time to rid her body of the poison.”

  Camelia’s eyes were wide. “Poison?” she repeated. “Surely, you’re mistaken. Who would want to poison our Sabina? That sweet girl!”

  Lorenzo grimaced. At first he thought it was a second assassination plot; that the wine had been meant for him. He quickly ruled out that possibility since everyone knew he rarely ate anything that had not first passed the lips of his food-taster. Someone had deliberately attempted to kill Sabina—and he had a good idea of who it was and why.

  “Does anyone know how this happened?” the physician asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Massimo said. “I fetched two goblets of wine from the table and Sabina complained of the taste.”

  “Did your wine taste bitter?” Camelia asked him.

  “Not at all.”

 
“Sabina needs rest. I’ll send word when she’s fully recovered,” Lorenzo said dismissively. “For her safety’s sake, it’s best to keep this matter between us. If anyone inquires, simply tell them she fainted from heat exhaustion and is now resting.”

  “Yes, of course.” Camelia said, turning to go.

  Massimo nodded in agreement but remained rooted to the spot. His obvious reluctance to leave struck Lorenzo as odd.

  Camelia tugged on his arm. “Would you accompany me, Massimo?”

  “With pleasure,” he replied, nodding to Lorenzo before leading the older woman downstairs.

  Sabina felt groggy the following morning. “What time is it?”

  “Almost midday,” replied the girl who held the bucket last night.

  “I would like some water, please.”

  She poured water into a cup. “Here. Shall I fetch some broth?”

  Sabina sipped the water before nodding. Her stomach felt so empty that it hurt. The girl sent her companion to the kitchen.

  She then proceeded to help Sabina wash. “Signore Lorenzo wishes to speak with you as soon as you’re ready to receive him.”

  The other girl eventually returned carrying a tray laden with bread, beef broth, and fruit. Sabina ate ravenously. When she was finished, she looked down at her dress. In addition to being completely wrinkled from having been slept in, there was dried vomit on the bodice.

  The girl smiled reassuringly. “One of Signora Clarice’s ladies is about your size.”

  “Thank you,” Sabina said in relief.

  After the servants had combed Sabina’s hair and helped her into a fresh gown, she was ready to see Lorenzo.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked as soon as he entered the room.

  “Was I really poisoned?”

  His expression was grim as he nodded slowly in response.

  She frowned. “My God, who would do such a thing? I’ve no enemies—at least none that I’m aware of.”

  “You should leave Florence,” he said quietly.

  “You can’t be serious, Lorenzo. I recently purchased a home.”

  “Not permanently, of course. Only for a few weeks.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “For your own safety.”