Cosimo looked up from the letter he was reading.
Contessina’s face was dark, and an angry pout tugged at her lips. For the entire week, Cosimo had had the feeling that there was something on her mind, and – as he tended to do in those circumstances – he had waited for Contessina’s anger to fade. But this time, evidently, that was not going to be what happened.
‘And what are people saying?’ he ventured.
Contessina shook her head in disbelief.
‘I don’t know you any more!’ she said bitterly. ‘Once, at least, you would have confided in me, you would have deigned to whisper your doubts, speak to me about your decisions. But not any more. Do you deny it?’
Cosimo didn’t know what to say.
‘Piccinino has taken Verona and marched on Padua. His men have reached Venice and even though your dear friend Francesco Sforza, with whom you have long conspired, seems to be holding his own, Piccinino appears to have every intention of arriving, sooner or later, at the gates of Florence. Lorenzo has divulged that apart from all the promises and agreements aimed at promoting the union of the two Churches, this whole business of the council is actually a plan of yours to bring the Pope and the papal troops over to our side. So I ask you: when exactly were you intending to tell me?’
Should he have? Cosimo raised an eyebrow, but the gesture only had the effect of making Contessina angrier.
‘Does such a request surprise you? After all I’ve done for you over the years?’ she continued, without giving him a chance to answer. ‘Always, always remaining by your side, even when everything conspired against us? And now, after exile, corruption and separation, I am to remain silent and demure, only to discover that one day you will leave me to go off and fight, and perhaps die, withholding the truth from me until the end? Oh no, my love. If that is what you think of me...’
‘I think of you only the best of which my mind is capable. Since the day that I first saw you, I have wanted with all my heart to be a better man, and such I have hoped and tried to be, for you and for our family. I have not always succeeded, perhaps. And as regards the reasons that led me to host the council in Florence, well... The plague broke out in Ferrara: what was I supposed to do? And yes, it is true: I intend to guarantee the alliance with the Pope and the necessary indulgences... You and my brother are exactly alike sometimes. Am I a bad husband because I care about my family? I should have involved you both in my decisions, at least the most recent ones, but there are situations where discussion does nothing except slow everything down. And I don’t understand why an occasion as important as the reunification of two faiths must be reduced to a simple political strategy to guarantee allies in war. The question is much more complex than that and I would ask you to believe me when I tell you that what I do is aimed solely at guaranteeing the well-being of you and our children!’
Contessina took a step towards him. Her expression had grown imperceptibly sweeter. It wasn’t much but it was something. Cosimo looked her in the eye. Several years might have passed but she was still beautiful. The green gown embroidered with silver and decorated with pearls and gems enhanced her luminous skin. She looked glorious.
He took her hands in his.
‘I did not mean to exclude you, my love,’ he said, ‘only protect you. Is there something wrong with that?’
‘No,’ she said, keeping her gaze steady, ‘but you also know that I don’t need protecting. No more than you do, at least. I am afraid, Cosimo, can you understand that? This continuous shifting of alliances, these political calculations, the reforms you have made, your men who sit in the Palazzo della Signoria, the relations you have with Eugene IV, the meetings with the officers of the Venetian army... all this puts you at great risk, and your enemies have become countless and plot against your life. And despite this, you seem to constantly seek other opponents, as though the ones you already have weren’t enough! There are days when I am frightened of you, truly. And can you, in all honesty, tell me that I’m wrong?’
He placed his lips on her perfect forehead. So delicate yet so strong, she was like a flower that had resisted the wind and the cold of the last winter. And he loved her so very much because there was such pride and rare composure in her. Even when she became angry, it was always for a good reason. He was a truly lucky man.
He smiled.
‘Very well, I understand. You’re right about my agreements and pacts with our allies, but I believe that it’s better to act instead of waiting. Just look at what happened the last time we waited... I ended up in the Alberghetto cell and we were only saved by a whisker. And even then, we had to spend a year apart.’
‘And I have no intention of going through anything like that ever again,’ said Contessina.
‘Nor do I. And it is precisely for that reason that I intend to put an end to this exhausting checkmate.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I will tell you the truth, because what else could I do with the woman I love? Rinaldo degli Albizzi has always been a coward. He betrayed the very city that years before had raised him to the highest of ranks, but he will never forget the humiliation of having been exiled from Florence and for years has been plotting to return like the snake he is. Filippo Maria Visconti, the Duke of Milan, yearns for an opportunity and has entrusted his captain, Niccolò Piccinino, with planning an attack. This is what our spies tell us. But Piccinino has made a mistake that is as serious as it is fatal – and it is the same one that I myself made all those years ago. He’s waiting. For too long. It doesn’t matter much that he continues to conquer – and then lose – castles of little importance in an attempt to annoy or threaten Florence, because by doing that, he only gives us the opportunity to prepare ourselves. And you’re right when you say that my desire to strengthen relations with Pope Eugene IV is part of that preparation. But what you must understand, my love, is that this final confrontation can no longer be avoided. The moment comes when a destiny must be fulfilled and therefore, sooner or later, it will happen, and neither you nor I can prevent it. So I ask you to be strong one last time. I don’t know how long it will take, but that day will come, and when it does, I hope you will be at my side.’
‘As always,’ she said, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.
Cosimo embraced her.
‘As always, my love. I beg your forgiveness. I know I ask a lot of you, but try to understand that this will be the last time, the final obstacle that separates us from peace and prosperity. Fate has not always been kind to us and I know that I have made my mistakes, but destiny is something that a man builds for himself and his loved ones. I have a feeling that what is about to happen will bring us fulfilment and that once it is over, peace and harmony will finally reign over our beloved city.’
‘I hope so, my love,’ said Contessina, ‘but I’m frightened of the day when our destiny will be fulfilled, because things don’t always go as we have hoped or planned. If I’m honest, I hope that day will never come.’
Cosimo said nothing and simply embraced her harder.
‘I’d like to stay like this for the rest of my life,’ said Contessina, ‘but that cannot be. Hug me again, Cosimo, because fate will once again come to separate us. I feel it.’
And even though she was now calm, Contessina remained in his arms. He felt a strange and gloomy apprehension in his heart, but tried not to dwell upon it. Everything would be all right, he said to himself.
Even though he knew he was lying.
47
The Confession
She had waited for him all day. He had arrived in the heat of the newly begun summer, while the flaming July sun blazed down on the walls of the castle and the air around it.
Reinhardt had been covered in dust, sweat and blood. Laura had helped him remove his armour and had drawn him a bath, with the water not too hot, just the way he liked it.
When he had stepped into the tub, savouring the water’s heat, she had undone her dress and stood naked in front of him. Her cinna
mon skin was lit by sunlight filtering through the large windows, a faint scar stretching out like an irregular thread along her tapered, muscular leg.
She had looked him in the eye and saw, in that moment, something in him that had changed forever. A sense of anger and torment gnawed away inside him like a cage full of rats, and perhaps not even she could pacify him.
She had decided to confront the issue directly, the way she always had done in life, and had climbed into the tub next to him, but he hadn’t even given her time to touch him, hadn’t been able to wait a moment longer. Silence was a pain that he could no longer bear, and the truth lodged in the bottom of his heart had come flooding out.
Finally he had found the courage to talk and confess his shame – a shame she knew he had nurtured all those years.
And now it was as if the Devil had come to ask him to settle his account for his life – as though by hiding the man he really was, he had stolen it from someone else.
He had begun to tell Laura what she had thought she had already guessed.
But none of it was what she had expected.
Reinhardt spoke in a voice breaking with torment, each sentence another step along that journey through evil and deceit.
‘I knew I had them on my heels,’ he said. ‘I started running, but it was too late.’
He stopped again. For a moment he seemed to hesitate while Laura looked at him as though she could guess what he was about to say. In a sense both of them had always known that the strange spell which bound them together would one day break. And that when it did, they would suffer savagely.
‘Poaching wasn’t the brightest idea, but I was hungry. I’d been wounded in an ambush and then bitten by a fox. How it managed to bite me I’ve no idea, but as tiny as it was, its teeth had sunk into my flesh like razors. After it happened, I didn’t feel like myself. For a couple of days my head kept spinning. I kept having strange spasms, and I felt incredibly hot, as though I were being consumed by fire.’
‘Like now?’ she asked.
‘It wasn’t a sense of guilt, it was physical – a disease, something eating up my mind. In any case, I was wearing a Swiss mercenary uniform, which wasn’t going to help my chances. I was starving and I needed shelter, and there I was running through the woods with dogs on my heels and voices shouting from the darkness of the trees. I kept the deer on my shoulders. But I couldn’t run any more. I was exhausted. So I decided to stop and wait.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she moaned. ‘Why must you take everything from me?’ She said it softly, as though saying it any louder would make the pain even more intense.
But it could never have been worse than that moment.
‘Because I want you to know what kind of a man I am,’ he continued. ‘As soon as the hounds appeared in the clearing, one of them broke away from the rest and leapt up at me, trying to rip out my throat. I managed to keep a cool head. I dodged to the side and stuck a dagger in it, and then kept stabbing. I got rid of a second dog with a kick and pulled out my sword, but then two gamekeepers appeared. They couldn’t have been alone, but I couldn’t see anyone else. And they were dressed in bright colours – leather tunics with six red balls on a gold background.’
Laura began to cry. She went back to that night and to the yellow-eyed man, and suddenly felt with absolute certainty that her entire life had been a lie. That she had become the woman she was by a simple whim of destiny. She said nothing though, simply weeping so hard that it seemed it would break her in two.
‘When they saw the dog with its belly ripped open at my feet and the other yelping – I think its leg was broken – they drew their swords and flung themselves at me. But things didn’t go as they had imagined. I heard the first blade whistling through the air and managed to duck out of the way just in time. The sword went over my head and the man was left defenceless. His abdomen was exposed and he was unsteady from the lunge, and my blade found his belly and slashed it open. He fell to his knees and dropped his sword, and when he saw what had happened, the other man hesitated for a moment. That moment cost him dear. I brought my dagger down on his foot, pinning it to the ground, and then I slit his throat with my sword. The other dogs had retreated, whining – they must have been frightened by the fury in me. At that point, I took the tunic off the man I had just killed and put it on. I took his boots too, and rummaged through their bags and stole a dozen florins.’
Laura felt as though she was dying. She had hoped to the last that he wouldn’t say those words. Slowly, she climbed out of the tub. Just the idea of being near him at that moment made her stomach turn. She didn’t blame him for what had happened but could do nothing to prevent the instinctive feeling of revulsion that his presence was causing her.
Schwartz, unable to stem his torrent of words, cut her more deeply than a thousand swords.
‘Desperate and half-mad, I put the deer back on my shoulders and ran until I collapsed at the mouth of a cave. I staggered inside and fell into a faint. I don’t know how long for – I was in the grip of a fever. When I was at least able to crawl, I lit a fire, butchered the deer, roasted the meat and ate it. By the end of what must have been the third day I was feeling better, even though I was still delirious and having muscle spasms. My eyes were burning terribly. When I felt as though I could walk, I put a little meat in the bag and set off. There was a fire devouring me from within – a thirst, drying me up. I couldn’t quench it – it was agonizing. I had to unburden myself somehow, but I didn’t know how to do it. The day before, when I had come out of my delirium, I had also felt that excruciating need. Once out of the woods, I came across a road and from there I continued on foot until I saw a cart. It was dusk. I discovered a pair of horses, untethered. The owner must be away. I climbed into the cart. I was looking for clothes to replace that tunic – it was torn and too showy – but inside I found a beautiful girl with black hair and green eyes. What happened next... you know all too well. You still bear the scars.’
Laura stood there immobile, saying nothing. She looked at him one last time and was filled with a depthless bitterness. Her tears had dried and she felt an indescribable emptiness overcome her. She remained silent. She heard him climb out of the tub, dry himself and then get dressed.
‘Get out,’ she said, ‘and never seek me out again. And if by chance you happen to encounter me, you would do well not to look at me, because I might kill you.’
He did as she said. He would never see her again.
June 1440
48
Towards the Battlefield
Contessina had noticed how tired he was. In fact, he seemed more exhausted than merely tired. Cosimo had given her a sweet, reassuring smile, as he always did, but this time she felt that the danger at their doorstep was so great that it might overwhelm them. Contessina had an ominous feeling that the war against Milan might prove fatal.
‘Swear to me that you’ll come back,’ she had said with tears in her eyes. ‘There was no need for this war. Why did you do it? Why did you and Lorenzo decide to cause us this new pain? Was exile not sufficient for you? Was it not enough to know you were at the mercy of your enemies, a step away from death, while you were locked up in the Alberghetto? Why must you Medici always seek to challenge fate? Try and shape it as you wish, as you yourself said, without succeeding?’
Questions, just questions. They had come to her lips like some ungovernable army, a storm of questions that rose up from the depths of her heart demanding explanations for this new vigil that was being imposed upon her. She would wait, of course, and she would honour her husband with fasting and prayer. But why should their lives always be hanging from a thread that threatened to break at any moment?
She knew that nothing would stop him, though. Not this time. Not after what had happened over the last decade. How could he tolerate another attempt by Albizzi to take back Florence?
He would go to war, and with him Lorenzo. She had long known that, in spite of everything, the moment would arrive. It
didn’t matter how many churches he built, how many works of art he funded or how many offices of the bank he opened through hard work and self-denial: as long as Rinaldo degli Albizzi and Filippo Maria Visconti were strong, there would be no peace for Florence.
‘I have to go, my love. I cannot avoid it this time. I must be on the battlefield. Together with my brother – and with my cousin Bernardetto. He will lead our men. I want to show that I am not afraid to face the responsibilities that leadership imposes.’
‘But it’s ridiculous! Let the soldiers do the fighting!’
‘I am not so mad as to go rushing to the front line; I’m no man-at-arms. But I intend to be there and be close to the soldiers who are fighting for us. Don’t you understand: they have to see me and know that I believe in the league and support this alliance against Filippo Maria Visconti? Otherwise all my promises will ring hollow. And that is something I cannot allow.’
Contessina lowered her head and embraced him; then she wiped away her tears.
‘Promise me that you will keep yourself away from the fighting,’ she said softly.
‘I care too much about my family to let myself be blinded by anger. I know my limits, as does Lorenzo.’
And with that, Cosimo had kissed her on the lips, mounted his horse and was gone.
Contessina had watched as he joined his brother and they set off for the city gates. She had watched them until they disappeared from sight.
She turned to the wonderful David that her husband had commissioned from one of his favourite artists, Donatello, to embellish the courtyard of the Palazzo Medici. She stared at the figure with its sleek muscles and angelic features. There was something ineffable in that face, she thought. As though you could never fully understand the nature of the thoughts that had animated the artist as he created it, and even less those of the figure that stared boldly from the pedestal.
Just like her husband’s eyes that morning when he had left. His usually serene gaze had been defiant.
Medici ~ Ascendancy Page 22