by Gian Bordin
When the time came, I also needed a fine mansion in Siena, where I could entertain guests. With so many houses left empty by the plague, this should pose no problem. I should be able to rent one fully furnished and do it cheaply. Still, I might have to dip into my savings.
Fortunately, with many of the nobles and rich merchants leaving the city for the hills over summer, there were fewer invitations for performances, although we made it a rule to visit each week one of the villages or smaller towns within easy walking distance from Florence. Some of our spectators often turned out to be the very nobles and rich merchants who had left the city for the hills. It even led to private open air shows at their summer residences, small audiences and smaller purses, but enjoyable. The donkey and the horse carried our gear. In this relaxed atmosphere we even partook in the banquets offered, nor did our manners cause embarrassment. Although mixing with the audience was no more than what I had done as the lady of the castle, I was pleased how well both Jacomo and Veronica managed. Nobody would have guessed that barely a year earlier they had been homeless orphaned beggars. While the boy easily held his own, pretty Veronica tended to stay by my side and as a consequence we often were the center of a circle of young men.
* * *
Exploring the countryside by horse in the direction of Siena was Chiara’s next step. She had no choice but to tell Alda what she was doing.
"Chiara, please don’t do it… If you love me, please don’t."
"Alda, I love you like the mother I never had. But I also have to live with myself, and I know that I would always regret it if I let Sanguanero get away with what they did to me and my father. I must at least try, and I promise to be careful and abandon it if I judge that the risks are too great, or there is danger for you. Please understand… Hold me."
She counted on such a plea to melt the woman’s opposition. Alda embraced her. It felt so good to be held in those strong arms.
"I love you, Chiara," she murmured, and Chiara responded by holding her more tightly.
Her first stop was at a roadside inn just outside Porta Romana, the gate for the road for Siena. As usual, she was disguised as a young priest. Taking an occasional small sip from the cup of wine, she engaged the innkeeper in conversation, questioning him on the best way to travel to Siena, on whether there were tracks that she would not have to share with the pack mules and carts. He told her that if she wanted to avoid the new road then at the first fork just beyond the inn, she should keep to the left. This was the old mule track, which would take her to Impruneta. There, she should ask on how to get to San Donato and from there to Castellina in Chianti. Much of that would be along hilltop ridges.
She got lost twice, having to ask for new directions before she reached Impruneta, a bare two leagues from Florence, and then returned to the city. Two days later she left again as the gates opened and made it to Impruneta in just over an hour. She continued as far as Montefiridolfi, about a third of the distance from Florence to Siena. A short stretch outside the village, she spotted a farmhouse nestled in an olive grove. The farmer agreed to look after a horse and supplement its feed with grains for a double grosso a month.
Next day, she asked Pepe to help her buy two good riding horses. A week later, after another private performance, she told the others that she would be gone for three days. Riding her mare with the other two horses in tow, she made for Montefiridolfi, left her mare there, telling the farmer she would drop by again in two days.
Riding one of the other horses, she continued the same day to Castellina, where she found another farmer to look after a horse. She spent the night there. By noon next day she was in Siena, where she checked if their old house in Via delle Cerchia was still empty. It was and she arranged for its rental for another three months and moved in. The afternoon she spent searching for a sufficiently impressive mansion to rent. She inspected several and finally chose one in Casato di sopra, signing a three-month contract in the name of Signorina Alberti de’ Morrone. The house had a second entrance from Prato San Agostino and was, moreover, only four houses from Sanguanero’s notary. The hall was the showpiece, richly furnished. The previous occupants seemed to have put all their effort into this one room, giving the rest of the house less attention. Its proximity to the house in Via delle Cerchia — barely three hundred steps — was an added advantage. It would allow her to arrive in Siena as a priest, quickly change in the quiet Via delle Cerchia and enter the mansion in the busier Casato di sopra as the fashionable woman she would pretend to be. It could raise suspicions if a priest entered there and was only seen leaving a day or two later. She would find a discrete woman to look after the house, once she set her plan into action.
Early next morning she left Siena, changed mounts at Castellina and Montefiridolfi and was back in Florence by late afternoon, without forcing the horses. She was confident that she could easily make it in six hours if need be.
* * *
Orlando greeted her when she entered the kitchen after changing.
"We have another invitation from Casa Frescobaldi. They want us to give Electra in the Roman theater in Fiesole in two days. Since you were gone, we didn’t know whether to accept or not." He sounded reproachful.
"And did you? I said I would only be gone three days."
"But you said you were going to Siena. How can you make it there and back in three days?"
"Orlando, if I said that I would be back in three days, I would, and I did. You still have not given me an answer. Did you accept?"
"Yes, we did."
"Good, thanks."
She went to Alda, leaving him standing. His facial expression left no doubt that he was unhappy. He stormed out of the room. Alda was stirring gravy in a small pot, and Chiara put her arm around her shoulder, kissing her cheek. "This smells delicious, mamina."
Alda smiled. "I’m glad you are back. They were an unhappy bunch, not knowing why you went to Siena and not believing that you would be back in time, although I told them repeatedly that you would."
"Yes, maybe I have to own up to what I’m doing, although for their own protection it would be better if they didn’t know."
"I’m not sure. We might give you away without knowing it, and it’s always more reassuring to know what’s going on. We might even be able to help. Have you thought about that?"
"I have, but I felt it would be unfair to involve you in something that has nothing to do with you, that could be dangerous. I know I can trust you, but can I trust Orlando?"
"I think you can. Yesterday evening, he said that he had never had it so good in his whole life and that for such little effort. I think he would be on your side. And Chiara, we are involved by the very fact that you’re one of us and that we depend on you."
"Oh, mamina, I should listen more to you." She kissed her again.
After the meal, over a cup of wine, Chiara told her story. Alda was the only one who knew it all, even Pepe never guessed that the old Sanguanero had raped her and that this had been the reason for blinding him. She told them how Casa Sanguanero had forced her father to sign over her inheritance as compensation for the blinding. The only thing she remained silent on was the existence of a treasure whose secret location was buried in the book of Latin poems. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she told of her father’s last hours. Both Veronica and Alda had wet eyes too. All remained silent for quite a while.
Jacomo was the first to speak: "You aren’t going to let them get away with that. I’ll help you reclaim what’s yours."
"No, Jacomo, I won’t let them get away with it. That’s why we stayed in Siena over the winter, so I could learn all about them and more. That’s why we came to Florence, rather than go on the road, so I could make all preparations needed. That’s why I disappeared for three days to Siena, so that I could make arrangements to travel in six hours to Siena or back by having a fresh horse ready in Montefiridolfi and Castellina. That’s why I rented a respectable mansion in Siena where I can entertain Niccolo Sanguanero and lure
him into my trap."
"And that was the reason you turned down a marriage to Gaetano Salimbeni," remarked Alda.
Veronica sucked in her breath, whispering: "Salimbeni."
"How did you know?"
"It didn’t take much guessing why he came to our house, drunk and pleading with you."
"You were willing to throw away such a prestigious marriage for revenge?" Orlando muttered. "Chiara, you’re out of your mind."
"Maybe, I am, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to get back what’s mine. But this is my fight, and I don’t want to involve you. It could be dangerous, even fatal."
"I won’t stand by idly," exclaimed Pepe.
"Nor will I," repeated Jacomo.
"I’m willing to play a part, as long as it doesn’t involve fighting and killing," said Orlando. "I’m not cut out for that. What’s your plan?"
"I’ll lure him into advancing a large sum of money toward financing two galleys to Alexandria on a trading mission. The bait will be the promise of a huge dowry. Once I have the money, I’ll disappear with the funds. If the amount is large enough, Casa Sanguanero may be bankrupt and go under."
"I’m willing to be the bride," Veronica interjected timidly.
Chiara hugged her. "Oh my sweet sister. I couldn’t let you do this. I will be the prospective bride myself, for the second time."
"But they could recognize you," said Orlando.
"I doubt that," remarked Alda. "Niccolo Sanguanero didn’t recognize her when he saw us at a private performance. The girl he remembers was a chubby faced, innocent-looking child."
"And what about getting your inheritance back? I thought that was your main aim."
"That will come later. I’ll take that back when they are down."
"But how can I help," cried Jacomo.
"Chiara, you must let us help you," Alda admonished her. "You need reliable servants in your Siena mansion. We can do that."
"Yes, Chiara, we want to help. We owe it to you."
She felt overwhelmed by their spontaneous support and had to fight her tears. They were right. Taking up residence in Siena alone would hardly give the intended impression of wealth, whereas arriving with a sizeable staff would.
"Yes, having you all there initially would be useful, but I hate to get you involved. It could be dangerous."
"I would rather be involved than stand by idly and worry about you," exclaimed Pepe.
"So do I," cried Jacomo.
She could have hugged them for that, but simply pressed Pepe’s hand. "I promise you that if I win, there is a nice mansion on Elba that you can call your home, where there is a place for those of you who want to retire to the quiet life of landed gentry, nothing luxurious, but pleasant and comfortable."
Later, when Chiara and Veronica retired to their room, the girl started hesitantly: "Chiara …"
"Yes, Veronica."
"I … I didn’t know what horrible things happened to you. I think I would have died, and you’re so brave and always cheerful … and so strong."
"Maybe what happened made me stronger, and it’s easy to be cheerful when I love being part of I Magnifici. And Veronica, I think that how you and your brother suffered was far worse than what happened to me. I don’t know what real hunger is, whereas you do. I was so lucky that I met up with Alda and Pepe, and they helped me when I was desperate. And Alda became the mother I never had, the same as she has become your mother. That’s why, when I saw you and Jacomo in the square in Cagli, I immediately knew that I had to help you, that I had to pay back to the world something that was given to me. And I’m so glad I did. I gained a sister and a brother… Oh, don’t cry. Come, let me hold you." She took the girl into her arms and stroked her back, murmuring: "I love you."
"I love you too," whispered Veronica, trying to smile through her tears.
15
Florence, Siena, end of August 1349
I must admit that the enormity of how I intended to repay Casa Sanguanero for what they had done to me suddenly loomed dauntingly. Was I really cut out for this? Would I succeed or end up failing, taking my friends down with me? Were the risks worth it? I struggled with these doubts for several nights, always coming to the same conclusion — yes, I had to do it. I owed it to myself, to the memory of my father, to Casa da Narni whose sole survivor I was — only to wake up each morning with my resolve gone, my doubts back.
But at the same time, it did not detract me from making the final preparation, forging testimonials for Lucrezia Alberti de’ Morrone, the name I would assume to trap Niccolo Sanguanero into a marriage contract — its lure a highly profitable trading venture with my share of the net proceeds being the dowry.
The first of these testimonials was from the Lamartini banking house of Naples, the one my father had used for transferring funds for my late brother. I only hoped that the person who signed the more recent correspondence was still acting for them. The testimonial praised the net worth of Casa Alberti de’ Morrone, its more recent successful trading missions, and the proposed venture to send two loaded and armed galleys to Alexandria, giving details of the goods to be carried, valued at more than 28,000 florins, and a list of the spices the Alexandria merchant guaranteed would be made available for purchase. It stated that the cost for hiring the galleys from the Naples merchant Cosimo Adelphi dei Guantani and its crews for the four- to six-months trip amounted to another 12,000 florins. Antonio da Quaranta, the procurator, appointed to manage the affairs of the firm on behalf of my fictitious brother, Manfredo Alberti de’ Morrone, the only surviving son and heir of the late Alberto Alberti, was currently seeking a highly reputable merchant house in one of the main Tuscan trading centers, Florence, Siena, or Pisa, that possessed the connections to sell the spices at advantageous prices and was willing to enter into an equal-share partnership.
The second was from Oddo Arringhi da Catenaia, the notary of the King of Naples, confirming the sound financial position of Casa Alberti and indicating the wish of the late Signor Alberti that a quarter share of the proceeds of the proposed trading venture should be the dowry for his only daughter, Lucrezia, for a matrimonial liaison with a healthy son of a notable merchant house, and that one of the prime concerns should be the willingness of the prospective groom to be actively involved in the management of Casa Alberti until the infant son, Manfredo, became of age and gained enough experience to assume a leading role.
I labored many hours over the wording, imitating phrases and turns of expressions from the various legal documents in my possession. It was then that I discovered that Orlando had unsuspected qualities and a willingness to be more than a passive bystander in my quest.
We returned to Siena and set the bait for Casa Sanguanero. I was surprised, even a bit dismayed how readily Niccolo took it. He made it almost too easy. A few days later, I was their honored guest. I admit that it was with considerable trepidation that I set foot in their mansion. How would I cope being face-to-face with the old Sanguanero, having to shake hands with the man who had violated me?
* * *
As Chiara was copying what she thought was a final draft of the forged testimonials, Orlando looked over her shoulder, wondering aloud what she was doing.
"I’m forging letters for the imaginary Naples merchant whose daughter Lucrezia will be my fake personality."
"Forgeries of commercial documents? … Isn’t that risky? Commercial documents use their own special language —"
"— which is quite different from how you would write a private letter. Yes, I discovered that from the documents my father left me. Do you know anything about that?"
"A bit, although it was a long time ago. I’m the son of a lawyer by his mistress. He wanted to train me as a notary. So I spent three years in his office before I ran off at eighteen with a troupe of traveling players."
"What a coincidence! We all seem to have run away from something. Have you seen him since?"
"No, I’m sure he has no desire to see me again.
I don’t even know if he has survived the plague."
"And your mother?"
"I’ve visited her twice while I belonged to a troupe that did a circuit between Rome and Gaeta, but she never really forgave me for ditching my career as a notary."
"Is she still alive?"
"No, she died more than twelve years ago."
"Another curious similarity. Nobody in our troupe has parents left." She paused. "Orlando, would you be willing to have a look at what I wrote?"
After a short hesitation, he sat to her right and took the quill she proffered. He carefully went over both papers, changing a few words here and there and adding a sentence or two. As he made the changes, she could see that the wording became more professional.
When he was finished, she said: "Thank you, Orlando. I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive that they might give me away."
"Actually, for a woman, you did surprisingly well."
"Now, now, Orlando," she said with a smile, wagging a finger at him. "It has little to do with gender and more with training. I’m sure that if I had the training, I could do as well as any man."
"Sorry, Chiara, you’re right, but then you aren’t just any woman. But shouldn’t you also have the letter of your Alexandrian merchant?"
"Yes, that thought has occurred to me too and it might add additional credibility. But do you think that Casa Alberti would entrust such an important document into the hands of Lucrezia? And besides, I don’t know Arabic or Greek."
"For starters, you must think of Lucrezia as ‘I’, like you do when you act a role in a play. And second, you’re right, they would hardly give you the original, but you could claim it to be a copy, and I’m sure you could find somebody capable of translating a letter into Greek."