by Gian Bordin
After another fruitless session trying to clear up the remaining holes, Chiara said: "It’s no use. Let’s just forget it for a while. Maybe if we look at it again in a week, we might suddenly see through the fog. We know that the entrance to the treasure is in the ruins of a structure, possibly a house. In fact, we know more, it’s in a corner behind a pile of rubble. We also know that the ruin is partially or completely hidden in bushes or a dense forest, that it’s either near the top of a pointed mountain or hill or that from it one can see such a top, but we don’t know how far away. We have a further clue about three poplars along a water, a creek or river —"
"— and that we should be able to identify them, because they’re near a bend in a creek or stream —" interjected Jacomo.
"Yes, but again we have no idea of how the poplars are related to the location of the house. This is one of the two missing links. The other is the connection of the church tower in Chiusi and the area where the treasure is hidden. The secrets to both are hidden in the pages we struggled with all this afternoon."
"Why don’t we go to Chiusi and try to find out which church tower it is? Maybe that might help solve the first mystery. Anyway, we need to clear that one up before we can tackle the other one."
"Yes, we could do that. In fact, let’s do it the first sunny day. If we leave early morning, we should have ample time to look around and be back by the evening."
"Are you sure it’s safe for you to go to Chiusi?" asked Alda.
"Don’t worry, mamina, I’ll not go as Chiara, but as Anselmo, the young priest. That should be safe enough."
Two days later, Chiara woke early as usual and went to wash herself at the fountain outside the kitchen. Dawn offered the first light and the last of the stars were fading in a clear sky. A mild wind was blowing softly from the west. This looks promising, she mused and decided to wake Jacomo.
While he got the horses ready, she prepared a hearty cooked breakfast. By the time it was daylight, they were on their way to Chiusi.
As they rode along, Jacomo asked: "Chiara, were you really serious when you said that I could study to become a lawyer or it is only wishful thinking?"
"No, Jacomo, it’s not wishful thinking. All you need is a sponsor."
"But am I intelligent enough to study at a university?"
She smiled. "Yes, little brother, you’re intelligent enough. In fact, you will find that you’re smarter than most of the other students and then you’ll look down on poor me."
"I will never look down on you. You know that."
"Yes, I know. I was only teasing you. Would you like to become a lawyer? Don’t you like the life of a traveling artist?"
"It’s fun to be a player, but not for the rest of my life. I think that I would like to have a respected profession like the law. Then I could also provide for Veronica."
"Oh, don’t you worry about Veronica. She’ll be married to a rich man before you know."
"But I would rather she married a kind man, one who’ll look after her, even if he’s poor."
"I’m sure that she’ll find a rich man who’ll be also kind to her."
He remained quiet for a while, looking at her repeatedly as if he was trying to muster up the courage to ask her something personal. "Will you ever get married?"
"I don’t know. I hope so. I would like to have children of my own."
Again he hesitated. "Veronica said that you loved somebody."
Dear Veronica, trying to make it easier for her brother, she mused. "Yes, I think I do, but it will never come to anything. Right now, I don’t even want to think about it."
"Sorry, I didn’t want to —"
"It’s all right, Jacomo. You may ask me anything you want. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll tell you."
In Chiusi, they left the horses at an inn and walked through town, looking for churches. There were a half dozen with towers tall enough to see over the surrounding countryside. Chiara did not expect the treasure to be hidden in town, although, when they had stayed there while Alda was ill, she had heard that there were underground caverns and tunnels, but these would all have been thoroughly plundered of any valuables a long time ago.
She figured that the tower of the old sixth-century cathedral, the tallest one in town, was the most likely one referred to in the book. When the sacristan saw her black robes, he immediately granted permission to climb the free standing tower a few steps to the left of the church entrance. He even offered to accompany them, but she declined, preferring to be alone with Jacomo, and saw that the man seemed relieved. He carried much weight and was not the youngest anymore.
A sequence of four steep ladders led to higher and higher wooden platforms and finally to the top which had a window in each direction. It took her only two seconds to discover the prominent peak dominating the southern horizon. Would whoever had masked the location of the treasure in the book use a point of reference four or so leagues away? But there clearly was no other cone-shaped feature or object anywhere close-by in any direction, and she was fairly sure that they were not mistaken about that aspect.
"That’s it," exclaimed Jacomo, "the tallest mountain anywhere. Does that mean that the thing we are looking for is way over there?"
"It looks like it. We should have remembered that. We saw that mountain when we came down from Lago di Perugia."
Back on the ground, they asked about its name and location — Monte Cetona, about three leagues from Chiusi, just south of the little town of Cetona, which itself was only a league south of Sarteano.
* * *
Four days later they went for another search. Since they were not going into Chiusi, Chiara was not in disguise. She was wearing a wide skirt over her boy’s breeches which allowed her to ride astride without embarrassment. Jacomo had found out that there was a mule track directly from Chianciano to Sarteano, a bit more than two leagues south. They left when the first hint of dawn crept over the eastern horizon and an hour later crossed the ford over the Astrone river, leaving the road to Chiusi. Initially, the track climbed steadily and then traversed a gently sloping plateau to Sarteano. It was another hour on a narrow mule track through dense forest slopes down to the little hilltop town of Cetona at the foot of the mountain of the same name. The lower parts of its steep sides remained hidden behind the wooded cliffs rising sharply a short distance beyond the town.
Since it was still early, they decided to explore the slopes below the cliffs. They came across the first creek just northwest of the town, flowing almost east, not southwest, as the little book seemed to show, but then it might only have indicated water rather than also direction. They followed it uphill, looking for three poplars. Although there were a couple of clumps at the bottom, none were aligned in a row of three. Below the cliffs, the thick undergrowth of bushes blocked their path, forcing them to veer south until they could climb up to a sizeable terrace, parts of which were open pasture. By then it was noon and their stomachs asserted themselves.
While eating bread and cheese and sharing a cup of wine, they looked over the gradually sloping valley, the plains of the Chiana beyond, and the chain of hills rising on the other side, the ochre houses and rooftops of a hilltop town exactly east on the horizon. Flocks of sheep and goats were grazing below them. A shepherd waved, and Chiara responded.
Jacomo nudged her and pointed down into a ravine on their right. At a slight bend in the creek three old poplars swayed gently in the wind, perfectly aligned in a row.
"Our poplars," she cried and jumped up.
"And pointing straight to us. That treasure must be near here."
She put a hand on her chest, feeling the sudden pounding of her heart. It had all been too sudden.
When Jacomo wanted to pack up and start the search for the ruin, she held him back. "It has been waiting for us for ages. It can wait a bit longer. Let’s first finish our meal." She was not sure whether this was the real reason or whether she simply needed more time to restore her calm.
"Aren’t you anx
ious to find out?"
"I am, but I’m also a bit apprehensive. Jacomo, please bear with me. Let’s finish our meal and then we start by first figuring out whether we now can make sense of the missing connection between the poplars and the location of the ruin." She could see that he had a hard time restraining himself, but he sat again. She removed the little book from her skirt pocket. "Here, find the pages."
He poured over the two pages following the one with the illustration of the three poplars. There were no cupids or cherubs on either. "Here is another bow and arrow, but not held by a cupid. Could it be a clue?"
"The poem is an ode to hunting and at the end appeals to the Roman goddess, Diana, for her divine help. So it really illustrates the poem." She took another careful look at the picture. Diana’s arrow pointed diagonally across both pages to a miniature landscape with a cone-shaped mountain. "Maybe it is a clue. Look where the arrow points."
"Monte Cetona, but how does that help us?"
"Diana is depicted on a shrine, carved in stone, not as a living person. So it could mean that we have to look for a shrine, like a church or a chapel —"
"I think I got it. We have a line from this shrine to the mountain and another line through the three poplars. The place we must look for is where they intersect. It’s just a different version of the intersecting arrows." His voice trembled slightly, and he looked at her, uncertain, hopeful.
"I think you’re right. Oh, Jacomo, you’re brilliant. Let’s search for a church or a chapel."
They did not have to look far. They found a little chapel, just inside the forest, hidden behind bushes, at the far end of the terrace, a bare six steps from the cliff edge. Its inside was just large enough for half a dozen people. Only a wooden cross adorned its walls, which were all in bad need of a coat of plaster and whitewash. Monte Cetona rose right behind the apex of its roof. They walked around the bushes to get to its back and started climbing through the trees that largely obscured the peak, trying to keep on a straight line, carefully checking the ground for any sign of a former structure or ruin of a house. A short distance on, they were back on the open grass slope.
After several hundred steps, Jacomo said, full of frustration: "We are well past the intersection with the line from the poplars. We must do this differently. One of us has to stand at the edge of the terrace where the poplars can be seen and tell the other when he has reached the spot where the lines intersect."
"You’re right and since you said ‘when he has reached the spot’, you clearly want me to go to the edge of the cliffs," she replied smiling.
He blushed, murmuring: "I didn’t mean it that way."
"I’m just teasing you, little brother, although I should stop calling you that since you’re now taller than I."
Five minutes later she was standing at a spot lining up exactly to the poplars, where she could see still Jacomo. He was at least five hundred feet too high up the slope. She waved him down until she was sure that he stood approximately at the right place, and then joined him.
They looked around. About a hundred feet farther back, there was a tangle of bushes and briars in a small depression, close to the edge of the forest. It was impenetrable without getting scratched and having all clothing ripped, nor was it possible to see into its center.
"We’ll need a sword to slash through that."
They walked around it. From above they could just barely see the mossy top of a rough stone wall.
Jacomo pointed at it and said: "I think we’ve found it."
"Yes, Jacomo, I’m convinced we did. Thank you." Spontaneously, she hugged him and then became aware of what she had done — going against her own resolution to avoid anything that could inflame his passion for her and give him false hopes. Embarrassed, she let go. He was breathing hard. "Let’s return home now that we’ve found it. We’ll have to come back with tools another time."
They packed up and started their descent to Cetona where she intended to make discreet inquiries as to who owned that land. When they met up with the shepherd who was slowly herding his flock farther uphill, she greeted him. "What a beautiful place to graze your flocks."
"Only when the weather’s good, Signorina."
"You’re here all year long?"
"Only in winter, Signorina. In summer I’m up there." He pointed to the upper slopes of the mountain.
"Is it good grazing?"
"All right down here, but not much grass up there, mainly bushes. Difficult to keep the dumb beasts from scattering."
"I bet you’ve your tricks to keep them together. Whose land is this?"
"Don’t know. You ask il padrone. He owns the tavern in town."
"Thank you for your advice, but now we shouldn’t hold you up any longer. Have a nice day."
"You don’t hold me up at all, Signorina. Nobody ever comes up here," he called after them.
"Let’s go to the tavern and find out more," she said to Jacomo.
Ser Paolo, the tavern owner, was a chatty man. Chiara discovered in a roundabout way that he had leased the land for over twenty years and his father before that. The owner was a nobleman who lived on the coast.
"I’ve met him only once. It must be almost ten years ago. A tall, fine-looking gentleman. In all this time, he hasn’t raised the rent a single solido."
"That’s your gain."
"Mind you, since the plague rents have in fact gone down. There’s too much land for the few people left."
"I see. I didn’t think of that. And what’s the name of this generous nobleman, if I dare ask?"
"I think Signor da Narni."
The shock of hearing that name was so sudden that she sucked in her breath and she noticed that Jacomo’s eyes went big.
"You seem surprised, Signorina. Do you know the gentleman?"
She had caught herself again. "Yes, I do know a nobleman of that name. It could well be the same. It’s not a common name. Do you know where he lives?"
"No, just somewhere on the coast. I always deal with his agent in Chiusi, Messer Fabbriano. I guess he may be more than willing to tell you where he lives. Are you interested in buying the property?"
"I may. I’ve been looking for land. It depends how large a piece it is."
"Oh, it’s fair size. If you ride up there, my shepherd will be able to show you."
"We just came from up there," remarked Jacomo. "We rested on that terrace above the cliffs. Is that part of the property?"
"Oh, you were. Yes, the terrace belongs to it. There’s even a chapel up there, but it’s hardly used nowadays. All in all it’s maybe about five or six times the size of the terrace. I own the land below it and the steep slopes above it are communal property. I get my share of grazing up there in summer."
Chiara was suddenly eager to leave. Although she hid it well — her acting skills standing in good stead — she was in a state of confusion and agitation. Had her father owned that land? Was she now its owner? He had never mentioned anything about having land on the mainland. She had the need to find out right away.
Ser Paolo advised them on the best path to Chiusi, and they were on their way. Jacomo seemed as eager as she to find out the land owner’s real identity.
* * *
The guard at the gate told them where they could find Messer Fabbriano, who after some probing confirmed that the owner was a Seignior Alberto da Narni of Elba.
"I have advised him more than once to raise the rent, but he always declined. Curiously, I have not received any news from him during these last two years. He was an old man and he might have died."
Chiara hesitated for a moment — was it prudent to reveal her origin — but saw no harm in it. "In fact, Seignior da Narni died a bit more than a year ago in Grosseto. I am his daughter, Chiara da Narni, and only heir."
"My condolences, Signorina, I am sorry to hear of your father’s death." He paused, clearing his throat several times. "Signorina, I am sure you understand that I need proof that you are the only heir. A testimonial from the Pode
stà of Grosseto would be most appreciated. Do you by chance have such a document on you?"
"No, I do not and my father died in Grosseto while on a journey. But I will arrange that you receive a testimonial from Casa Medici of Florence that I am the daughter and only heir of Seignior da Narni. Will that be agreeable?"
"Casa Medici? Certainly, Signorina. I am their agent in Chiusi. I would be happy to ask Signor di Bicci myself, to save you the trouble."
"How kind of you, Messere. Please do."
"I certainly will with pleasure. Ah, you may want to know what arrangements your father has made for the rent I collect. The entire sum, less my expenses of one quarter, is each year given to the orphanage of Santa Maria of Chiusi, so that they pray for the soul of the late wife of Seignior da Narni, ah, I mean your mother."
"That is fine with me. I would not want to change my father’s wishes. You may though ask the sisters of Santa Maria to now also include a prayer for the soul of my father."
"I’m happy that you see fit to continue this arrangement and can vouch that the sisters of Santa Maria will humbly include your father in their prayers. Ah, I may though ask you to consider increasing the rent on that property from thirty solidi to at least forty. Even at that it is still cheap."
She could not help smiling inside. "You have my permission to do that, Messere."
He wanted to know where she lived. She replied that she was only passing through and that, if he needed to get in touch with her, he could do this through Signor di Bicci.
They took leave and took to the road to Chianciano. Chiara marveled at the turn of events. Now she could legitimately claim that treasure as her own without having to steal if from somebody else’s land. Thinking about it, it made sense. Her father would hardly have kept the secret of this treasure if he did not own it. He had been too upright a man not to have made the owner aware of it, nor would it have led to a feud between the Sanguanero and the da Narni families. And since he wanted to protect it from Sanguanero, he must have destroyed any documents in his possession before he had to cede the Elba property to them, because the documents she had received after his death did not contain anything pertaining to Cetona. She was bemused that in the end he had outsmarted Massimo Sanguanero.