“What is he doing in the banqueting hall?” asked the daughter.
“Never mind that!” her mother scolded sharply. “We must go to him at once.”
They both bustled out of the door in a flurry of silks. The instant they were gone, Fresina bounded in and slammed the door shut.
Lucrezia staggered back, knocking over her chair. Her eyes grew wide and she raised her hands in alarm.
“Please don’t cry out!” Leonardo pleaded. He spread his empty palms in an appeasing gesture.
“What are you doing here?” Lucrezia exclaimed. “You are both fugitives.”
“But we are not murderers,” said Leonardo. “As I told you at the Duomo, we are innocent.”
Fresina nodded vehemently. “What he says is true, mistress.”
Lucrezia gripped the back of the divan, her nails digging into the fabric. “Where is Lorenzo?”
“He is safe,” said Leonardo. “He protected us from harm so the truth could be made known. He would have given anything to be here in my place, but he would never have made it this far without being recognised. And what matters to him most of all is that you should be rescued.”
“Rescued?” Lucrezia’s eyelids fluttered uncertainly. “You can’t believe I am in any danger here.”
Fresina made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat. “Of course you are in danger. The whole city goes to war.”
“If Neroni is pushed to the wall, you may be the last card he has left to play against the Medici,” said Leonardo.
Lucrezia wrung her fingers. “I grant you Neroni is unscrupulous, but I am under Luca Pitti’s protection and he has always been a man of honour.”
“Honour and ambition often go together,” said Leonardo, “and one can corrupt the other. Have you tried to leave the palace?”
Lucrezia’s long eyelashes drooped. “I am never left alone. Even when I stroll in the grounds, there are always soldiers close by, keeping me in sight. I suppose I knew all along that I could not leave.”
“Well, now you must,” said Leonardo. He brought out the brooch Lorenzo had given him and offered it to her. “Lorenzo wanted me to give this to you, as a token.”
Lucrezia took it tentatively from his hand, as though it might burn her fingers. “Yes, it was not so long ago that I gave this to him.” The faintest shadow of a smile touched her lips. “We were going to a masked ball, and I gave him this brooch so that no matter what costume or disguise he wore, I would know it was him.”
“He needs you now,” said Leonardo. “Neroni intends to use you as a hostage to bend Lorenzo to his will. That is why you must come away with us now.”
Lucrezia seemed to take strength from the brooch. As she pinned it to the front of her dress, she straightened her back and raised her head. “What do you want me to do?”
“You must act as though you are still an honoured guest and we are two servants sent to attend you,” said Leonardo.
Darting ahead of them, Fresina opened the door a crack and peeked out. “The way is clear.”
They left the room and headed down the passage.
“Once we are outside, I will give you this cloak and hood to hide your face until we reach our wagon,” Leonardo explained. “We can conceal you in there and take you to safety.”
“You make it sound very easy,” said Lucrezia, a glint of her usual humour in her eye.
“Good. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
A brief but dazzling smile flitted across Lucrezia’s face. “Every time I meet you I end up playing some sort of game. I am beginning to wonder if I shall ever cease being a party to your tricks.”
“This is the last one, I promise,” said Leonardo, returning her smile.
They hurried down a staircase that gave access to a spacious gallery. They slowed to a sedate pace at the sight of a band of brightly garbed men and women coming towards them, laughing and joking. The revellers bowed their heads to Lucrezia as they passed and one of them raised his cup to her in amiable salute.
At the far end of the gallery they passed through an arch. Another passage loomed and the three fugitives quickened their pace.
“So you have not overheard Neroni or Pitti say anything about their plot to bring down the Medici?” Leonardo asked Lucrezia.
“No, the first I heard of it was from you.”
“Have they mentioned the artist Silvestro or a machine he built for them?”
Lucrezia shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Leonardo felt his heart sink. He had been hoping against hope that Lucrezia would provide him with some clue that would complete the puzzle. They took another staircase down to ground level and Leonardo paused to check his bearings.
“There is a small back door intended for bringing firewood into the palace,” he said. “We should be able to sneak out that way and then get back to the wagon under cover of darkness.”
They passed along a row of marble statuettes, each perched on its own slender plinth. They had not gone far when they were halted by the sound of voices from the corner ahead.
“Place guards at all the exits and stairways,” they heard Neroni order, “and bring more men in to carry out a search!”
“Are you sure you’re not overreacting, my friend?” said Luca Pitti.
“Why do you think anyone would tell a false story of your being ill unless they wanted to get Lucrezia alone?” Neroni retorted. “And why would they want that unless they mean to spirit her away?”
Lucrezia bit on her finger to cut off a scream. Leonardo looked round for a hiding place, but there was none.
The next instant Neroni and Pitti rounded the corner with three soldiers behind. They pulled up short at the sight of Leonardo and the two girls.
“Guards! Guards!” yelled Pitti, his voice echoing down the passageways.
“Seize them!” Neroni commanded.
The three soldiers charged forward. Before Leonardo could intervene, Fresina snatched one of the statuettes from its plinth. It was a figure dressed in a winged helmet with winged sandals on its feet. Holding it by its legs she whipped it back and forth like a club. The foremost soldier leapt aside to avoid a crack across the face.
“No, you silly child!” Pitti exclaimed in horror. “That statue of Mercury is irreplaceable!”
“Run!” Fresina yelled, still flailing the priceless statue at the attackers.
Leonardo froze, shamed by the prospect of leaving Fresina behind. But he realised that if he allowed them all to be captured, he would be letting her courage go to waste. He grabbed Lucrezia by the hand and pulled her after him towards the stairway.
“Careful, you fools!” they heard Pitti shout at his men. “I’ll have the hide of any man who so much as chips that statue.”
“Come one step nearer and I will smash it against the wall!” Fresina threatened.
“We can’t just leave Fresina behind,” Lucrezia gasped.
“We have to trust to her wits,” said Leonardo, “and hope she can get away.”
He bounded up the steps two at a time, hauling the girl up after him.
“What about us?” panted Lucrezia. “How can we possibly escape?”
Leonardo said nothing. His mind raced along the passages of the Pitti Palace ahead of them, retracing the detailed lines of Filippo’s plans in a desperate search for escape. He had heard Pitti and Neroni order the doors guarded, so how were they to get out?
They cleared the last step, returning to the middle floor of the palace. Leonardo was still ransacking his memory for an exit. All he could recall were galleries, passages, stairways, all of them leading to dead ends or going further up and further away from freedom.
Then his mind stretched beyond the palace walls and he found what he was looking for.
“Come on!” he exclaimed in a whoop of triumph. “There is a way out of the maze.”
He dashed along the passage with Lucrezia on his heels. Behind them came the thunder of running feet.<
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“Forget the slave girl!” came Neroni’s voice. “Catch Lucrezia and that cursed boy!”
Rapid footsteps came pounding up the stairway.
“Where are we going?” Lucrezia asked as they twisted this way and that through the intersecting corridors. They were entering an ill-lit, unfinished area of the palace.
“Down here,” panted Leonardo, “is a window that overlooks the roof of the stable. It’s only a drop of a few feet. From there we can climb down to the ground.”
They reached the end of a bare-walled passage that was choked with workmen’s clutter. Side-stepping a sack of plaster powder, Leonardo threw open a door and waved Lucrezia inside.
The girl tumbled into the room and fell to her knees, panting.
Leonardo closed the door quietly and looked around the gloomy chamber. It was lit only by a pale shaft of moonlight filtering wanly through the high, arched window.
The footsteps of Pitti’s soldiers could be heard clearly now amid the banging of doors. “Search every room!” an officer commanded, his voice reverberating down the corridor.
Leonardo dashed to the window and threw it wide open. He caught his breath and gaped in sudden horror.
Lucrezia joined him. “What is it?” she asked.
Then she looked down and gasped. There was only a sheer wall plunging down into the gloom below.
“You said the stable roof would be here,” said Lucrezia in a brittle, frightened voice. “You said we could climb down.”
“It was in the plans,” groaned Leonardo, “but they haven’t built it yet.”
25 THE PIT
Lucrezia turned white and pressed a kerchief to her mouth to stifle a sob. “This has all been for nothing.”
Leonardo stared numbly into the darkness. There were some horses out there herded into a flimsy enclosure which served in place of the unbuilt stable. Beyond gaped the quarry that had been gouged out of the hillside to provide stone for the palace. Closer, between the enclosure and the wall below, was a wagon. It was piled high with hay to feed the horses.
Leonardo’s heart gave a leap. “We can still get down,” he exclaimed. “We can jump to that wagon and the straw will break our fall.”
Lucrezia stared at him, aghast. “No, it’s as good as suicide to attempt it. We don’t have wings.”
In her agitation she lost her grip on her kerchief. It fell out of the window, floating downward through the night air. In spite of the danger, Leonardo felt compelled to watch it fall, counting the seconds it took to settle on the straw below. From down the corridor the sound of banging doors and barking voices grew louder.
Leonardo surveyed the prospect again with his artist’s eye for distance. The wagon did look very small and it stood a good six feet from the wall, but perhaps there was a way after all.
He looked around and was gripped by a sudden inspiration. “We may not have wings,” he said, “but we can have the next best thing.”
He took hold of the nearest curtain and with two sharp tugs broke it free of the wooden rings that held it in place. Gathering it up in his arms, he climbed on to the window ledge.
“Come up here with me,” he said. “We’ll use this to break our fall.”
Lucrezia stood unmoving and stared at him as if he had gone mad. “What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you see how your kerchief fell?” Leonardo asked. “It fell slowly. Why? Because it was gathering air under it, just like a bird’s wings. This curtain will slow our fall in the same way.”
“Are you mad?” Lucrezia asked disbelievingly.
“When you looked at the portrait I painted, you said no one had ever seen you so truly,” Leonardo reminded her. “When you looked at me I had the same feeling. Look now and see if I am telling the truth.”
Slowly Lucrezia met his gaze and their eyes locked. She took a hesitant step closer and accepted his outstretched hand to climb up on to the ledge beside him.
“Take these two corners,” Leonardo said, offering her one end of the curtain. “Wrap the fabric around your wrists so it doesn’t come loose.”
The girl followed his instructions and Leonardo took a firm grip on the other two corners. Lucrezia looked into his face then down at the wagon below. “I don’t know if I have the courage,” she said.
Leonardo did his best to sound calm. “Have you ever jumped off a high rock into a river?”
“No, never.”
“Well, I have, and believe me, it’s a lot worse than this.”
When I did that, Leonardo recalled, I nearly drowned. The memory made him suddenly dizzy.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I won’t ever be ready,” said Lucrezia. “Just tell me when to jump.”
“When we go, leap as far as you can then let your body go loose. And don’t let go of the curtain.” He shook the fabric out so that it billowed like a sail.
They heard a door crash open in the adjacent room. Heavy boots stamped across the bare wooden floor. “Nothing here,” a gruff voice reported. “Let’s move on.”
“When I say ‘now’,” said Leonardo. He heard a soft whisper coming from Lucrezia’s lips. It was a prayer, a prayer to Our Lady and all the angels.
Footsteps were approaching the door directly behind them. Leonardo’s throat was so dry the word came out as a croak. “Now.”
They flung themselves off the ledge. The curtain swelled above them like a canopy then pulled taut, painfully wrenching their outstretched arms. Leonardo was sure his heart must have stopped for he felt for an instant as though he were suspended in a supernatural stillness. There was no sound, no motion, just the uncanny sensation of being held aloft.
Then they dropped, the curtain snapping and twisting overhead, down and down into the waiting straw. The material slipped from Leonardo’s grasp and he sank into a rough tangle of darkness. It was like plunging again into the River Arno, the current sucking him under as it had once before.
He gasped and struggled, as though he were fighting his way up from a muddy river bed. Then his head broke clear of the straw and he drank in the clear, blessed air.
He was alive, unhurt and free. A breathy laugh sounded in his ears like the tinkling of a bell. Lucrezia flung an arm around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. “Leonardo, we made it!” she exclaimed joyfully.
Leonardo found himself grinning crazily. “Good. Now let’s get out of here.”
He rolled out of the wagon and landed nimbly on his feet. He reached up and lifted Lucrezia down. “If we could only find a bridle, we could ride out of here on one of those horses,” he said.
“I’m afraid there isn’t going to be time for that,” rasped a vengeful voice.
Leonardo thrust Lucrezia behind him as Rodrigo stepped out of a shadowy doorway. The Spaniard drew a short sword from its sheath. The moonlight glinted along the razor-sharp edge. The top of the blade was as wide as a man’s hand and tapered down to a point as sharp as a needle’s.
“Knowing how elusive you can be,” he hissed, “I thought it best to cut off any possible escape route.”
A voice rang out from a window overhead, the one from which they had just leapt. “Who’s that down there?”
Rodrigo looked up. “The ones you are chasing, Lucrezia and the boy!” he called back.
Leonardo seized his chance. He pushed Lucrezia ahead of him and cried, “Go!”
This time Lucrezia did not hesitate. Together they bolted away from the lights of the palace towards the blackness of the quarry.
Rodrigo let out a dry laugh and started after them.
Keeping Lucrezia ahead of him, Leonardo wove through mounds of gravelly debris and crude lumps of rock waiting to be hewn into shape. There were buckets and hoists scattered about the place, and picks and shovels laid aside by the workmen at the end of the day. To trip on any of them would mean death.
Leonardo could hear Rodrigo closing in behind but dared not pause to look round. He could tell that Lucrezia’s heavy dress
was impeding her legs and she was getting short of breath. They were almost at the edge of the quarry when she stumbled and fell.
Leonardo dropped to one knee beside her. He saw that her hands had been cut on the stony ground and there were tears in her eyes. Before he could help her up, a boot thudded painfully into his shoulder and pitched him on to his back.
Rodrigo stood over him, the point of the sword poised over his chest. His lip curled in a cruel sneer. “If you have any sense at all, boy, you will keep still and let me kill you quickly.”
Leonardo tensed in anticipation of the fatal thrust. Just then a shrill voice split the air with a torrent of Circassian curses. Fresina jumped from behind a mound of rubble and tossed a double handful of dirt right into the Spaniard’s eyes.
Rodrigo snarled and staggered back. With his free hand, he rubbed at his stinging eyes while slashing the air in front of him with his sword. Leonardo rolled to his feet. Snatching up a nearby shovel, he caught Fresina’s eye.
“Get Lucrezia away!” he told her.
Fresina was still cursing in her native tongue as she hauled her mistress to her feet. As the two girls ran off towards the trees, Leonardo braced himself to meet Rodrigo.
Shaking the last of the grit from his eyes, the Spaniard lashed out with his sword. Leonardo jumped back, holding the shovel protectively in front of him.
Rodrigo grinned maliciously, exposing his sharp, white teeth. “Have you had any military training, boy? No, I didn’t think so. You Florentines are all too soft for soldiering. That is why you hire foreigners like me to fight your battles for you.”
Suddenly, he lunged. Leonardo made a clumsy effort to block the blow, but the steel point ripped his hose and tore a cut across his thigh. He bit his lip and pulled away, blood trickling down his leg.
Rodrigo whipped his sword this way and that so it danced in the air like the head of a poisonous snake. “Where next, eh? The arm or the throat? Suppose I slice open your belly and leave you here with your guts spilling out?”
Leonardo’s leg burned and a wave of nausea swept over him. Desperately he pushed aside his fear as he had done on the window ledge and focused on the deadly struggle that lay before him. He was outmatched in both skill and weaponry. His only chance was to be more clear-headed than his enemy. He could not make Rodrigo afraid, but he could cloud his mind with anger.
Leonardo and the Death Machine Page 16