by Gian Bordin
They had to wait a long time. The fire was already down to a few faltering flames and a heap of glowing coals, before the wind carried the faint rustling of several people walking through grass. And then they saw three silhouettes against the sky, carefully skirting around the wall on the far side. They waited a few seconds, until Chiara felt sure that there were no others. She ran light-footed to the top of the wall, just as one of the fellows swung an axe down on one of their decoys. He yelled in dismay as his whole arm was jarred when metal hit the stones underneath the blanket. He lost his grip and the axe catapulted away.
"Halt," Chiara shouted, her arrow aimed at the one she recognized as Ser Paolo. "Whoever moves, gets the arrow!"
The men froze, but the one who had lost his axe started running. From the corner of her eye Chiara saw Jacomo aim and a moment later the arrow stuck in the man’s bottom. Hollering, he fell flat on his face.
"Now, Ser Paolo and my dear little shepherd, slowly put down your weapons and then come to the wall."
The tavern keeper protested. "We only wanted to pay you a friendly visit, bring you some more wine."
"With axes and sword? To the wall, Ser Paolo. Now." The last word came out as a sharp ring. He almost jumped and approached the wall, so did the shepherd.
"All the way… Closer. And now place both your hands on the wall above your head. That’s good. Just stay there until I tell you."
She only had to nod to Jacomo, and he immediately understood. He removed the quiver with the extra arrows from his back and then jumped from the wall. When he had positioned himself behind them, an arrow ready in his bow, Chiara walked around the far side of the wall to the man still groaning on the ground. As she pulled the arrow from his buttocks, he screamed, its echo mocking him a moment later.
"Up! To the wall," she ordered. She lightly kicked his behind when he failed to react. Another scream and he got up. She pointed to the wall. He limped over next to the other two.
"Jacomo will now tie you up. Any false move, you’ll get an arrow, not in the buttocks, but between the shoulder blades. Got that? I can shoot three arrows within the count of ten."
Jacomo removed the shepherd’s cord around his tunic.
"Clever shepherd, put your hands behind your back," Chiara ordered.
He did without looking around. Jacomo tied his wrists and pushed him down into a sitting position.
Next Jacomo began unbuckling Ser Paolo’s belt. The man suddenly lurched aside and ran away, Jacomo right at his tail. After a few steps he caught up with him and kicked his foot, sending him sprawling to the ground, and then was on top of him, pressing his face into the dirt.
The wounded man turned slightly.
"Don’t even think of it!" Chiara cried. "Lie on the ground, face down!"
He did, groaning as he bent down.
"Now, Ser Paolo, slowly get up and come back to the wall. I have you covered. You were lucky that Jacomo protected you from my arrow."
A few minutes later, all three had their hands tied. While Ser Paolo and the shepherd sat against the wall, the wounded man lay on his side.
Chiara and Jacomo looked at each other, smiling.
"Yes, we understand each other and work well together, don’t we?"
"Yes, Chiara, we do," he replied, a proud grin on his face.
Ser Paolo glared at her. "You will not get away with that. Cetona’s prefect will have you arrested for plundering a burial site."
"Ser Paolo, I actually own this land, including the burial site. I happen to be the daughter of the gentleman from the coast whom you praised so much last time, Seignior da Narni. I guess that Messer Fabbriano has already informed you that the rent has increased to forty solidi. He claims that even at that rate, it is still a bargain. The sisters at the Santa Maria orphanage will be grateful for the additional money."
"You are an imposter. He won’t believe you, but me."
She only shrugged her shoulders.
"Jacomo, let’s tie their legs too."
They did and alternated watching over the three prisoners, while the other tried to rest. They kept the fire going at a low level all night.
* * *
About an hour after the sun had risen over the hills on the other side of the Chiana, Pepe, Alda, and Veronica arrived, leading the three horses, each carrying two big baskets. Chiara and Jacomo hurriedly ate the bread and cheese Alda had brought for them. The prisoners went hungry.
It took them half the morning to remove the vases and other items, emptied of their contents, and safely pack them into the baskets. The smallest vas contained several silver and ivory utensils, as well as a golden spoon and golden cup. They wrapped these items in scarves and replaced them again in the vessel.
Chiara added the gemstones after letting Alda and Veronica admire them. Alda could not resist joking: "So there was a small treasures there anyway!"
"Oh, it is the sarcophagus and the amphoras that are the real treasure."
Pepe measured whether it would be possible to shift the sarcophagus through the corridor and up the hole. After some head scratching he concluded that they should be able to do it. He figured that its weight would be the biggest problem. They carefully emptied the ashes and a few partially burned bones into the alcove and covered it with stones, building a small pyramid on top of it. Pepe first brought its cover up, and then the two men dragged the empty vessel through the corridor to the bottom of the hole. The hole was not wide enough for both Pepe and the sarcophagus.
It was Jacomo who came up with the solution — using two slender tree trunks, laid against the steep steps, as a ramp to pull it up. Poor Pepe was trapped behind the sarcophagus until Jacomo and Chiara had cut two saplings and made one side smooth for sliding the sarcophagus up on it. It then was only a matter of coordinating their combined strength to pull it out of the hole, much to Pepe’s relief. It fitted into the biggest basket they had purposely left empty, just in case.
They replaced the slab, put the stones back, packed in dirt and then covered the whole area again with a thick layer of dirt and much of the debris and cut bushes they had removed before.
When they were packed, Chiara had another talk to the innkeeper.
"Ser Paolo, as you see, we have emptied the crypt. So there is no point to disturb it again. You would find nothing of value left there, except the ashes of the diseased. Now, I give you a simple choice. You promise solemnly that you won’t try to cause us any further difficulties, and we set you free and will pretend that you came up here to help, and woe to you if you break your promise. I will have the Podestà of Chiusi charge you with attempted murder. Or alternatively, you don’t give us this promise and we will deliver you to that illustrious person straight away without stopping in Cetona. What’s your decision?"
The shepherd immediately said: "I promise, just let me go. I only came along because il padrone told me that I must."
"After you told him what you had seen us doing, and he promised you a big reward, isn’t that right?"
He started to protest, but was interrupted by Ser Paolo: "Don’t lie, you miserable scoundrel."
"Anyway, my clever shepherd, did you really believe that he would have honored the promise once he had the loot?" Then she turned to the innkeeper. "Ser Paolo, I’m still waiting for your answer."
"I’ll promise anything you want, just untie me."
"But you also know what that implies?"
"Yes."
She looked at him for a while. "Ser Paolo, why do I have difficulties believing you? … I’ll change the conditions. We’ll set you free, but Jacomo here will constantly be at your side and he can throw a knife at twenty paces and hit the bull’s eye. You see, he bears you are a real grudge, since you insulted him by trying to run away. Nobody has dared to do that ever." She saw Jacomo making an effort to suppress a guffaw, while Veronica put a hand to her mouth. "So he will make dead sure — and mind my word — dead sure that this doesn’t happen again. In Cetona, we’ll load our cart, pay you f
or the room and food and then you’ll accompany us halfway to Chiusi before you’re again totally your own man. You still want to cooperate?"
He nodded, casting her a hateful glance.
"I didn’t hear you, Ser Paolo."
"I’ll cooperate." He spat out the words.
23
On the road, March 1350
Dear Selva, the two vases in our hall behind, which you so often hide and then jump out giggling when somebody walks by, are part of the treasure we unearthed and brought safely back to Chianciano.
The day after having recovered the treasure, Jacomo and I rode into Monte Pulciano, my purpose to ask Signor Benincasa, who I felt had always treated me with kindness, whether he would be willing to look after it for the time being. When he heard of it, he was delighted and asked my permission to display the pieces in one of his parlors, to be admired by his visitors. I helped him arrange the amphoras similarly to how they had been in the vault, but in a wider arc to allow each to be admired individually from close up and as a whole from the entrance to the room. An ivory goblet, a terra cotta pitcher, and a delicately sculptured gold crater, together with some utensils were displayed on a raised shelf, covered by a black soft cloth. The gemstones that were in the crater were the only items I asked him to keep safely locked away.
After my return from Cortona, I had written to Orlando care of Casa Medici in Rome, telling him that we were not coming to Rome and planned to be on the road again by March. I should have received an answer by that time, but we heard nothing from him. It was a pity, since we already had an invitation to offer Phormio in Palazzo Benincasa. I paid for a courier to ride to Siena and ask Ser Mario, the actor who had played the lead role during our season in Siena, to join us for that performance. To my relief he accepted and a week later, after another rehearsal, we gave Phormio to an appreciative audience. Following the show, Signore Benincasa invited everybody, including the players, to view the Casa da Narni Etruscan exhibition. I would have preferred if he had not identified it with me. I did not want to add more fuel to my dubious fame.
Monte Pulciano’s Podestà pleaded with us to offer a public performance of the knife-throwing act in Piazza Grande, promising free refreshments for the spectators. I guess that he wanted to ingratiate himself with the populace. The crowd was overflowing, all the way up the steps of the cathedral and Jacomo got them into stitches with his unexpected twists. All the windows of the three palazzi fronting the square were full of nobles and the takings were good. But what was even better for the troupe was that we all enjoyed it enormously. It was a good omen to embark on the road again.
My plan was to go to Cortona and on to Perugia, to fulfil my promise to visit Casa Baglione in the hope of offering a number of private performances in that famous city. For that I needed an actor like Orlando or Ser Mario, but the latter would not consider joining up with traveling players, even ones as famous as I Magnifici.
So, we took to the road in the hope that Orlando would respond to my second message and meet us in Perugia — leisurely travel in small daily journeys, with a short detour to Pienza, then on to Monte Follónico, Torrita, Fratta, Asina-lunga, Lucignano, Faiano and across the swamps of the Chiana to Montecchio and on to Cortona, staying a day or two in each town.
In Cortona I dispatched a message to Casa Baglione, announcing our arrival in Perugia within a week. Four days later, while we were resting in the fishing settlement of Passignano on Lago di Perugia, two days travel from that city I received the invitation to stay in their palazzo. A surprise awaited us at our destination in the form of Orlando. I also had a moving encounter with the widow of one of the retainers I killed four months earlier when they tried to kidnap me and Jacomo.
The city and its nobles were good to us. With much of spring and summer still ahead of us, the troupe agreed to go as far down as Rome before turning north again in time for Jacomo to join Luigi in his law studies in Perugia. I wondered whether this would be the end of I Magnifici.
* * *
The players discussed at length whether they should accept the invitation and stay at Palazzo Baglione. In the end, they decided against it. All preferred the freedom of staying in an inn of their choice, where they could come and go as they pleased. Jacomo, but particularly Veronica, were intimidated by the close scrutiny that they would be subjected to. Even Chiara felt a certain relief not having to face Lady Amelia’s disapproval. So, they took quarters in one of the better inns. She paid her respects to Casa Baglione, where she was received by the Lady Teresa, the Lord and his wife being at a civic reception of dignitaries from Rome. The old signora embraced her warmly. She appreciated Chiara’s openness that the players would feel intimidated staying at the palazzo and reluctantly accepted that Chiara remained with them.
As she got ready to take her leave from the old lady, Luigi entered the room. He rushed to her, bowing, taking her hand to kiss. She withdrew it and wagged a finger at him. "Luigi, this is not how one welcomes a friend."
He blushed and accepted the handshake she offered, while his grandmother watched, an amused twinkle in her eyes.
Chiara addressed him in Latin. "And how are your Latin studies progressing."
For a moment he was flustered and then smiled happily. "My teacher praises me daily." Switching to the vernacular, he asked after Jacomo and Veronica, and offered to accompany her back to the inn since he was keen to see his new friends.
They met up with them in the courtyard of the inn, and he spontaneously embraced both, letting go of Veronica, embarrassed and excusing himself for taking such liberties. The girl only beamed, not able to take her eyes off him. Chiara left the three youngsters alone with a slight sense of dismay, all at once feeling so much older.
Inside the taverna, Pepe and Alda were talking to a man. He only showed her his back. Orlando, was her jubilant silent cry. She signaled Alda not to give her away by putting the index finger to her lips. When she was just behind Orlando, she said: "Do you want a job?"
He turned, startled, and then chuckled and answered: "And who are you to offer me a job."
"Welcome, Orlando. I was desperately hoping that you would be here. And how was Rome?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "So so, la la. As I just told Pepe here, I have never been in a big city, alone and with plenty of money, and nothing to do. So I did a few silly things, went through my money too fast and then luckily got your letter to meet you here. I made it, just, completely broke."
Chiara reached into her pocket and gave him some coins. "Here, an advance."
He looked at the coins, a gold florin, and four silver double grossi, with loving eyes. "You haven’t changed. Thank you, Chiara. I feel better already."
"And what were the silly things you did, if I may ask?"
"I got taken for a ride, I gambled, I got drunk a few times too many, you name it."
"We’ll keep you in line," exclaimed Alda, laughing.
"Pepe and Alda just told me some rather unbelievable stories about you."
"If they’re unbelievable, they must be true. Alda doesn’t bother telling the ones that are just believable."
"Ha, as clever as ever. I must admit though that I’m glad I wasn’t with you. My last involvement in your schemes has confirmed to me that I’m not cut out for it. I hope you’ve no plans for that sort in the near future."
"No, just the hard and unexciting life of traveling players."
"Hard? Unexciting? Hardly," he laughed. "Not you!"
* * *
Chiara could not refuse the invitation to a banquet at Palazzo Baglione. Alda transformed her again into a fashionable lady, plucked her eyebrows, waxed her eyelashes, did her hair, applied rouge to her lips and painted the eye-catching birthmark at the top of her left cheekbone. She donned the same outfit she had worn for the first reception in Siena — the red body-hugging taffeta underdress, the breast cups altered to her natural size, and the black surcoat with gold threads, the only difference the broad belt with the decorative knives �
� she had replaced the one Lord Baglione had kept — being armed had become an overwhelming need. Antonia’s diamond cross added the final touch.
"Whom are you trying to snare this time?" mocked Alda. "You don’t know how beautiful you really are."
She had no doubt that when the herald announced her and all eyes turned, the men’s openly admiring, the ladies’ critically approving, that there was truth in what Alda had said. She fell naturally into the role of a courtly lady.
Lord Baglione abandoned the people he was talking to and came halfway across the hall to welcome her, bowing and kissing her hand. He did not let go, but raised it to the side, exclaiming: "Lady Chiara, how exquisite you look. Let me admire you. I shall be the envy of everybody to have you beside me at dinner."
"Thank you, my Lord, but your flattery will earn me the displeasure of Lady Amelia," she replied softly.
"Lady Amelia will agree with me that your simple elegance is putting all other ladies at a disadvantage."
"Is simplicity not the true sign of elegance, Sir?"
"Well said, Lady Chiara. I see you are still as quick as ever."
As he ushered her to where his wife and his mother were standing with a group of dignitaries, she could not help overhearing people talking.
"Look at her," whispered a richly dressed woman to a dowager adorned with an excess of jewels, "it is difficult to believe what they say about her."
"And have you heard the latest?" Chiara guessed that the woman referred to the Etruscan treasure, but she could not hear the rest. Rather than cringe, she was only mildly amused.
After the introductions, Signor Brancaforte, one of the dignitaries, pointed to the knives in her belt and asked: "Are these the famous knives, Lady Chiara?"