“It all depends on the will of our Lord. Sometimes the plague is not as acute and its scythe only cuts down the lives of an unfortunate few. Father and Mother believe that we shall be safe in our country house.”
“I am so glad. If we were to die, we would go to heaven where we could live happily, but I would prefer to go there when I am older.”
Lorena smiled sadly, protected by the darkness of the night. No candle had been lit and night had fallen a long time ago. How she wished she could share her sister’s faith about entering heaven!
“Let us say one Paternoster and three Ave Marias,” suggested Lorena, “to ask God to take us up to heaven when we are really old.”
As they both prayed, Lorena remembered the priest to whom she had confessed. It was now quite obvious that he was completely deaf because he had imposed the same penance as usual, the same one as when her worst sins consisted of squabbling with her sister and stealing sweets from the pantry. Lorena had received the absolution with relief, although now, in the middle of the night, she doubted if such a confession was worth anything. In any case, she thought, praying with her sister had comforted them both. When they had finished, only the song of the crickets broke the silence of the night. Maria had been lulled to sleep, soothed by the prayers.
Now Lorena’s sole company was the clamor of the noisy insects as they gave their nightly concert. It was comforting to know that her sister loved her and wished her well. As Alessandro, the eldest, had been the most favored, the girls had vied ever since they were small for the remaining love of their parents. Both were very different. Since she was a little girl, her sister had been more obedient and better behaved. Although slightly slower in her studies, Maria possessed a sixth sense that enabled her to guess what each member of the family wanted from her. She would have even jumped off a cliff if it had made her father happy. This attitude made Lorena lose her temper sometimes. The reason, she had to admit, was sheer jealousy. Jealousy that her sister would win more praise and affection from her father. This happened frequently. As opposed to her sister, Lorena considered that she should be loved for what she was, independently of not always doing things that pleased her parents. Had she and Maria chosen opposing roles in order to feel different from each other, whereas in reality they were both searching for the same goal? In spite of their frequent quarrels, Lorena had to admit that she loved her sister very much. Pregnant or not, very soon she would no longer be able share a room and sleep with her sister. She was going to miss her so much.
26
“Well now, what a seducer we have here in our midst in the palace!” exclaimed Lorenzo de Medici in a jocular tone. “From now on I shall have to call you My Lord Irresistible.”
Not only was Lorenzo trying to lower the tension with his light-hearted comments, but he seemed to be genuinely amused by the whole situation. Il Magnifico slapped Mauricio on the back in a brotherly way as he downed another glass of wine.
“So, Lorena favored you over the noble Luca Albizzi. Let us drink to that. Let it not be said that we who live in this palace are lacking in charm!”
Mauricio observed Lorenzo by the light of the torches that lit the dining hall. His smile was open and his eyes shone with intelligence, but by no means could he be called handsome. In spite of this, it was common knowledge that women found Il Magnifico’s ugly animal magnetism an irresistible aphrodisiac.
“I am afraid,” said Mauricio, “Lorena’s father does not find me exactly charming.”
“I am not surprised. Were any man to dare do something like that to one of my daughters,” Lorenzo commented theatrically, “I would hang him after having ordered that every bone in his body be broken with the strappado. But do not be alarmed, Francesco Ginori would not dare think of doing anything like that because he knows you are my protégé. Even if you were not, it would not suit him to do or say anything if he wants to protect the honor of his family.”
Mauricio was happy he had dared ask Lorenzo for a few minutes of conversation while the rest of the guests were rising from the table. He needed to talk to someone about what had happened. And who could be better than Il Magnifico to hear him out and give him advice?
“By the way, are you sure you want to marry Lorena?” asked Lorenzo. “I only mention this because you are still very young to get married. You are listening to the voice of experience … ”
“Oh yes!” exclaimed Mauricio enthusiastically. “After what happened between us, it is the only honorable alternative for a lady. And I cannot stop thinking of Lorena and her absence plunges me into the most absolute misery. Such emotions cannot be controlled, nor can they be chosen, they are in charge.”
“At this rate, you’ll turn into a poet who overshadows me,” joked Il Magnifico, reputed to be one of the finest literary talents in Italy. “I only ask you because it is unusual in Florence for someone like you to get married at twenty-one. Most gentlemen wait until they have built up their fortune before entering the marriage market and that usually occurs after the age of thirty. The marriage defines the honor not only of the person, but the way his family is perceived by society. That is why a Florentine looks for so many qualities in a woman: youth, so that she may bless him with many children; a valuable dowry, which measures the worth of the bride’s family; beauty to bring happiness into the household with her prettiness; and good family connections, essential in order to prosper and sometimes even to survive. It is logical, therefore, that the future bride’s family, in exchange for parting with such a precious jewel, will require the suitor to possess riches, charisma, and the very best connections in Florentine society. A man of talent can achieve all this, but with difficulty before the age of thirty.”
“You are twenty-nine and have been married for several years,” Mauricio pointed out.
“True, but my case is different,” smiled Lorenzo. “My family was extremely rich and governed Florence. I could aspire to any wife I chose and was obliged to marry for the good of the family. It was a state matter and not a personal decision. And as you have sadly noticed, our security is based on numbers. If instead of being two brothers there had been seven of us, for example, nobody would have attempted to wrest power from us by assassinating the whole lot of us at once. It was therefore vital for me to guarantee the Medici line of descendants as soon as possible.”
Mauricio detected a touch of bitterness in Il Magnifico’s voice. Like Dante Alighieri with Beatrice, he had possessed a muse ever since he was a young man, to whom he would platonically dedicate the most beautiful poems. Power also imposes its own restrictions, reflected Mauricio. Cosimo de Medici had educated his grandson Lorenzo since he was a child to be the one who would continue the dynasty. The many talents that Lorenzo soon displayed, combined with the physical ailments of his unfortunate father Piero de Medici, all pointed in that direction. In fact, Lorenzo began to govern when he was barely twenty-one, following his father’s premature death. Yet there was one piece of the puzzle that did not seem to fit. Why had Lorenzo not allowed his brother Giuliano to get married in spite of already having reached the age of twenty-five at the time of his assassination? If the Medici family needed new members, it would seem that marriage was the perfect solution. Mauricio refrained from asking such an awkward question and concentrated anew on his own personal problem.
“What do you advise me to do?” he enquired, merely out of courtesy to show his respect for Il Magnifico, for in his heart of hearts he harbored no doubts whatsoever. His paternal grandparents, whom he had never known, had died at the hands of highwaymen, his mother giving birth to him, and his father, who had mourned his mother until his sad end, had not provided him with a sibling. In spite of this, or precisely because of it, Mauricio’s major ambition was to raise a large family. To marry Lorena and start a new life in Florence would fulfill his very deepest desires.
“If you were to allow me to give you some advice,” said Lorenzo, “I would say wait, take your time, you have a lifetime ahead of you. But if you do no
t heed my suggestion and wish to marry, then I would order you to be silent.”
Mauricio was taken aback, but said nothing as a servant brought another pitcher of wine and removed the empty one.
“Walls have ears,” said Lorenzo once the manservant had left. “I see the madness of love in your eyes. Be discreet. This is the first precaution you must take if you wish to marry. Lorena told you that her family wanted to marry her off to Luca Albizzi. I do not doubt it, but in this case it was a secret between the Ginori and Luca Albizzi. I am absolutely convinced they had made overtures to each other, but without committing themselves in any specific way.”
“How can you be so sure of what you are saying?” Mauricio was surprised.
Lorenzo sipped his recently served glass of wine and looked at him mischievously. It seemed that the conversation with Mauricio was helping him escape from the terrible tension he was under these difficult days.
“I have told you before that in Florence, walls are constantly listening and I have ears in nearly every one of them. No marriage ever takes place among the upper classes unless I, with the utmost discretion, have given my approval. In this way I prevent the forging of alliances between families that could be potentially harmful to the smooth running of the city. There is always some friend of the families involved who will tell me or one of my closest associates, the possibility of this or that alliance. A smile, a glance, or even a throwaway remark is sufficient for them to know whether the marriage will be to my liking or not. There is no law concerning this, even though nobody would risk defying me with a union that might displease me.”
“What would happen if a case like that were to occur?” Mauricio wanted to know.
“The marriage would take place, of course, for I am no more than an ordinary citizen. However, it might come to pass that the families who had acted in that way would find that they were not being chosen to take up high positions in the public administration of Florence, which as you know, is drawn periodically by lots. Nor would it come as a surprise if, by sheer coincidence, a tax inspector were to discover that certain declarations had not been made. It is well known that Florence is a republic that survives thanks to the equitable contributions of its citizens. In the case of fraud, the state must be uncompromising, even though it might mean the downfall of some highly placed Florentine family. The law is severe but it is the law.”
Mauricio felt like a fool for having raised the issue with Il Magnifico. He had been in Florence long enough to be aware of how things worked. The Medici ruled without wearing a crown thanks to an extremely intricate apparatus in which hundreds of favors and mutual connections assured them of the support of the most powerful families. The end result was far superior to that of other states, as Lorenzo depended in the end on popular support, contrary to other kingdoms where tyrants imposed their rule by force of arms.
“I understand,” said Mauricio, helping himself to another drink from the new pitcher of wine, “but is it not possible that the Ginori and Luca have agreed on all the details of the marriage and have not yet submitted it to you for your consideration?”
“No!” Lorenzo asserted categorically as he drummed his fingers on the oak table. “The Albizzi were expelled from Florence by my grandfather, Cosimo. I allowed Luca Albizzi to return, but he cannot make any mistakes. There is nothing more important in Florence than honor. To propose marriage to someone without having success is an affront that causes great disgrace. Luca knows that before seeking an engagement he must discreetly consult my opinion. If he were not to do so, he might risk that once married, I would never comply with any of his wishes. He would never want to undergo such a terrible humiliation. It is for this reason that I recommend you be cautious. Do not talk to anybody about your incident with Lorena or Luca’s possible interest in her. In that way, both their honors will remain intact. According to the Talmud, it is equally grave to kill a person as it is to assassinate his character. In my opinion the latter is probably worse.”
Mauricio was surprised by the reference to the Talmud, a Jewish text, but understood perfectly what Il Magnifico meant. However, discretion was not going to be enough for him to marry Lorena.
“I went to her house today and a servant informed me that Francesco Ginori did not wish to see me. At least I was able to ascertain that Lorena is in their country villa together with her sister, although it would not be wise for me to go there.”
“Indeed,” Lorenzo agreed. “If this undertaking is going to end by being blessed at the altar you need her father’s consent. It is with him, not Lorena, with whom you have to deal. You have one thing in your favor: the merchandise has lost its value. Now, they will not be able to arrange a suitable marriage for Lorena. If you wish, I can intervene on your behalf. Unfortunately my position is not as solid as it was. In the last few days the towns of Radda, Meletuzzo, and San Paolo have fallen. Our captain, the Marquess of Ferrara, is demanding more money than we possess to pay the soldiers. Florence still stands excommunicated by the pope, and now the plague … How much longer can the common people endure before they rise up against me? Mauricio, you and I must pitch into battle as best we can and accept that the final outcome is not for us to decide … ”
27
“I am delighted to see you again,” said Domenico Leoni, the Roman who had paid Luca a visit together with another gentleman in his villa at Pian di Mugnone.
“A pleasure indeed,” Luca lied politely. “I am very grateful to you for sending me more men to reinforce my escort during the journey.”
“The highways have always been dangerous, but never more so than now.”
The mere act of living constitutes a danger, reflected Luca as he crossed the interior courtyard of the palazzo. The many columns that supported the upper stories provided an additional element of mystery to their walk. The place chosen for the meeting was the palace of the Duke of Urbino, a traditional ally in the pay of the Medici, although related to the Supreme Pontiff by blood, forming a bond tighter and more beneficial than Florentine gold. As they reached the end of their walk, they came upon an amazing garden filled with orange and lemon trees, roses, jasmine, lilies, and love trees. The love tree, commonly known as “the mad carob tree” or “Judas tree” had been chosen by the traitorous apostle to commit suicide, thought Luca with apprehension. Oblivious of any conspiracy, a peacock strutted around proudly showing off his colorful plumage.
“What made you change your mind?” asked Leoni.
“Times change, so do men. Your apparel, for instance, does not resemble much what you were wearing a few weeks ago.”
Leoni had indeed exchanged his elegant silk lucco for a reddish purple cassock usually only worn by cardinals.
“Too many clerics have been killed in Florence lately for my liking. I thought it safer to visit Tuscany dressed like any other rich merchant. Discretion demands a different label for every situation. But between us, is not necessary.”
“In that case, let us be frank with one another. I am ready to collaborate if the offer is worthy of the task you wish to entrust me with.”
“Of course, my lord. According to our enquiries you have debts already due for payment amounting to the sum of two thousand florins. This is a considerable amount of money, which we would be only too pleased to pay off. As for your part, we want you to keep us informed of everything that happens in Florence. We already have people infiltrated into the city developing strategies on which we might ask you to collaborate.”
“What kind of plans?” enquired Luca.
Leoni paused before answering as he contemplated a small gazelle nibbling at some plants. Nearby, two ostriches were pecking at some seeds. The Duke of Urbino certainly liked exotic animals, thought Luca. What other pastimes did he indulge in? Conspiracies, probably, dishonest card games … Luca prayed he would not end up caught in a trap.
“Extremely interesting plans, my lord. The assassination of Lorenzo in order to rob that ring we spoke of at our last meeting.”
“As a good Christian,” he said cautiously, “my heart will always tell me to obey the pope’s every wish.”
“Do not be mistaken. The enmity which exists between Pope Sixtus and Lorenzo is due fundamentally to family and territorial ambitions. Our hostility toward Lorenzo runs deeper.”
“Our?” asked Luca, anxious to know who exactly was entrusting him with such sinister tasks.
“As I said before, discretion is an extremely useful virtue. You must understand it would be somewhat premature to reveal other names. What I can do is forward an opinion we all share: the Medici constitute a danger to the Christian faith as understood by the church. Therefore, we must detain them before they cause irreparable damage.”
Luca found it difficult to believe that Leoni, a Roman cardinal, could act in such a way behind the pope’s back. In any case, he shared Leoni’s views about the Medici.
“I too consider many of Lorenzo’s activities to be inappropriate for a good Christian.”
Leoni agreed with satisfaction.
“I trusted you would. Those of us who are united in this belief must also unite in order to go into action.”
“One last question,” asked Luca. “Am I right to believe that the jewel in Lorenzo’s ring is not important solely for its great value?”
“Admittedly,” agreed Leoni, looking at him attentively. “Though this is not the time to talk of such arcane matters that are of no concern to you. Let it be sufficient for you to know that the ring is an object of power. Is that not what we are all searching for?”
The Florentine Emerald: The Secret of the Convert's Ring Page 11