“Such as what?” asked Lorena hopefully.
“Well, I have various. For example, Christopher Columbus managed to land on Indian soil after leaving the Canary Islands, so this time, on his second voyage, he is bound to reach Cipango and the land of the Great Kahn. If this were to happen, thanks to the agreements we drew up, we will receive preferential treatment, which should allow us to ship spices to Europe and thus avoid the exorbitant tolls demanded by the Turks and Venetians. All we would need then, in order to become rich again, is to ask for a loan enabling us to charter a boat that would return laden with silks and spices. That is why it is so important that everybody still has faith in us if we want them to give us money without hesitating.”
“And if it were really necessary,” said Lorena with relief, “we could discreetly sell the ring you came to Florence with. It is so spectacular that many would pay a veritable fortune for it.”
Her husband’s expression changed dramatically and a silence fell on the drawing room.
93
Why had he revealed to Lorena, all those years ago, what he had promised to keep secret. How could he have possibly hidden from his partner, lover, and only confidante that Lorenzo had entrusted him the ring shortly before dying? Mauricio had never regretted this indiscretion. Until today. If his conscience finally impelled him to return the emerald and his family were threatened with ruin, Lorena might never forgive him for such a righteous action.
“We should not sell the ring,” said Mauricio in a contrite voice. “You know that Il Magnifico made me swear on his deathbed that I would return it to its rightful owner.”
“Yes, but many years have gone by and nobody has ever come to claim it. Obviously Il Magnifico’s heralds never found its owner and therefore it is useless to wait for somebody who is never going to turn up.”
Lorena’s logic was impeccable, but there was one flaw in her argument. That very morning a letter had been delivered demanding the return of the precious stone. When he explained this to his wife, it made little impression on her.
“Just a letter?” she asked skeptically. The extremely watchful expression on his wife’s face was contrary and determined. As she continued, “Enough money for just one year … when Columbus reaches the lands of the Great Khan described by Marco Polo … that mythical kingdom from which all those spices come flowing into the West and which will give us a share in the business … Admit it, Mauricio, we are in dire straits, and if they take our house from us we shall be ruined. So let me tell you what I think. Maybe the emerald was the property of somebody other than Abraham Abulafia, but that was over two centuries ago. Two hundred years is a long time: things change hands over time and we are not even sure if your family acquired the ring lawfully. What we do know for sure is that we have three children, with another one on the way, and they all depend on you. Your responsibility is toward your family, Mauricio. You must keep the ring and sell it if the occasion demands it.”
Mauricio’s brow was furrowed. He could imagine a horrible image in which he returned a precious jewel while his family wallowed in misery. What good father would ever do something like that to his family? But not keeping his word was the equivalent of a robbery and an affront toward Lorenzo, the man to which he owed everything.
Anyway, it was out of the question to return the ring now. Michel Blanch, who had written the letter, lived in Aigne, a small town in the South of France. Surprisingly enough, he had no intention of travelling to Florence but cordially invited him to come to his town with the emerald as soon as he had a chance. Obviously, this so-called Michel Blanch was unaware of the enormous value attached to the jewel. As far as Mauricio was concerned, with a court case pending and the state his business was in, it was not the right time to go on a long journey. To put off the answer and not make any decision he might regret later seemed to be the most convenient solution.
“Do not worry, Lorena. First I shall solve our most urgent financial problems. And only then, when everything is in order, I shall honor my pledge.”
As soon as he pronounced those words, another possibility occurred to him. What if the letter was a trap planted by the Resplendent Ones to find out if he possessed the ring. It was true that a few years had passed since Lorenzo had given him the ring, but recently his country villa had been ransacked and the grounds had been dug up in search of hidden treasure. However, the Resplendent Ones would have used far more effective measures had they suspected that the emerald had returned to his hands. Mauricio shook off his fears. It was not that odd that a band of outlaws making the most of the caretakers’ negligence had broken into the estate during their absence. Therefore, he resolved on concentrating exclusively on solving their financial problems and to try not to worry about imaginary threats.
94
According to tradition, newborn children come into the world with a loaf of bread under their arm. However, the birth of Roberto did not come accompanied by pastries or sesame bread rolls, but a judicial order of eviction. Therefore, having barely had time to recover from the birth, Lorena was obliged to move with all the family to their new home: the old palace of an important merchant, who, ruined by the economic setbacks of the last few years, had decided to try his luck in Milan together with his brother. The owner of the palazzo, Marco Velluti, had drawn up a contract for a year’s rental. After that, all depended on how things turned out for him in Milan.
The mansion was well situated on the southeastern corner of the piazza, looking onto the magnificent cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. Built on three stories around an interior courtyard, it was sufficiently spacious to cover all the needs of the family. On the ground floor were the stables, the kitchens, and the servants’ quarters. There were also some vaulted chambers that could be used to house stock or even be fitted out to work with textiles. On the second floor, besides a large reception room and an ample dining hall, were more than enough bedrooms for the whole family, some of which were adjoined by small toilet rooms. The top floor contained the library, two studies, various spare rooms, and a large terrace from which the cathedral apse could be admired.
The palazzo had been built with pretensions of grandeur, but the decline in which the owner had been living for the past few years had left its mark. The wooden floors were stained with age, the tapestries had been left threadbare by moths, and the walls were covered in cracks through which the cold would enter mercilessly once winter was upon them. Lorena hoped that all this was not symbolic of their own decline. Mauricio had insisted that it was essential that they continue living surrounded by the maximum amount of luxury possible in order to keep their image and honor intact, so with this in mind he had commissioned a marble floor with a chessboard design identical to the one in the reception room of their old palazzo. According to him, their public image was more important than ever, for if the creditors were to suspect that he had serious financial problems, they would throw themselves upon him with more ferocity than a pack of hungry wolves. That being so, thought Lorena, it would be preferable not to receive any visits until they were capable of restoring the rest of the mansion.
Mauricio had shown signs of great anxiety and agitation during the two months preceding the birth. However, now that little Roberto was born without too many complications, he seemed to have gained in energy and confidence. Lorena prayed to God for her husband to maintain his equanimity, because he was certainly going to need it in order to face the difficulties that lay ahead.
95
Dawn broke without a solitary cloud in the perfect blue sky following a week of heavy rain. A gentle breeze caressed the streets of Florence as Luca strolled toward the Duomo, accompanied by his wife and children. Many shops and workshops were closing so they could attend Friar Girolamo’s first sermon in September. Everything was perfect. Why then was he not happy?
The image of Mauricio and Lorena came to mind. He knew that they had serious financial problems. Pietro Manfredi had informed him that Mauricio had secretly asked for a large loan shortly after
the Court of Commerce had received the petition in which the heirs of Tommaso Pazzi were reclaiming their father’s palazzo. It was obvious that Mauricio had gained access to this information before it became public and that he had made the most of this in order to obtain the loan without any guarantee whatsoever. Such cunning behavior showed clearly that he had no private funds and that when the repayment date came up, if Lorena and her husband were unable to honor the debt, they would be plunged into ruin. Just to complicate matters even more for them, Pietro Manfredi had taken it on himself to leak the information concerning the serious amount that Mauricio owed. It was more than likely that he would end up in prison for the debts he had incurred. However, the trial could last for months, perhaps even more than a year, and Luca was in a hurry to savor Mauricio’s downfall. To be condemned for your debts was ignominious, but the penalty for high treason or practicing the Jewish faith in secret was death. It was only a question now of pulling the right strings and contriving to gather false evidence to send that smug foreigner to perdition. How Lorena would then repent of ever having married Mauricio, of having rejected him!
Luca Albizzi, one of the notable men of Florence, respected by the people and the nobility; Mauricio Coloma, a churlish foreigner whom, after an incredible streak of good luck, had ended up disgraced like a vulgar delinquent. What a perfect image! Although heaven and hell were the final measure of human worth, there was nothing wrong with everyday life offering a little anticipatory glimpse of what each and every one deserved.
Luca was cheered by weighing up his prospects for the future and pleased as he saw the throng milling around the cathedral. God imparted his justice in a slow but inflexible way and Savonarola was his most outstanding prophet. It was undeniably comforting listening to Friar Girolamo declaring from the pulpit about the eternal punishment that would befall those who did not comply righteously with the will of the Lord.
96
Making the most of the good weather, the families had gathered in the Villa Ginori at Flavia’s request in order to enjoy each other’s company, although judging by the conversation, the purpose of the occasion seemed more to enjoy having a good argument.
The children had left the table after giving short shrift to their lunch and were now playing in the open air, except for Roberto, the baby, who was sleeping peacefully on Lorena’s lap.
“Well, it seems the savior of Italy took to his heels … and without concluding his sacred mission,” said Mauricio, mocking the king of France.
This was a remark that was bound to raise Luca’s hackles, Lorena realized. Savonarola’s followers were fervent supporters of the French king, as the friar had always maintained that he was the instrument chosen by God to restore liberties and bring back moral order to the Italian peninsula. However, with his dazzling, triumphant march through Italy, Charles VIII had sown the seeds of his later downfall. Alarmed by the successes of the French army, the great powers had united and formed a league to destroy him: the kingdom of Spain, the duchy of Milan, the pontifical states, Venice, Genoa, and the Emperor Maximilian, all formed such a tremendous force that King Charles had abandoned Naples to its fate and beat a hasty retreat to his country.
“Quite so,” conceded Luca, maintaining his composure. “The king of France should have listened to Friar Girolamo’s advice and deposed the pope when he entered Rome, he should also have put an end to the frivolous behavior of the Neapolitans, taking an example of what is happening in Florence. Now God is humiliating him for having been unworthy of his mission and subjecting him to this punishment in order for him to meditate.”
“One could hardly claim that King Charles was precisely a model of moral rectitude. According to what they say,” continued Mauricio, “the French monarch threw himself into Neapolitan pleasures with such abandon, that his main occupation was choosing the most beautiful women among those presented to him in a book of their portraits in the nude. It seems that these days, modern prophets do not get it right as often as they did in the Old Testament.”
“How dare you talk like that?” Luca was indignant. “What are you trying to insinuate? It is not Friar Girolamo who has failed in his predictions but the king of France who has betrayed the mission God had entrusted him. Need I remind you that when he returned from Naples, King Charles could have ransacked Florence at will and the reason he did not was thanks to the meeting he had with Friar Girolamo.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten. Although I am not quite sure that it would have been in his interest to stand up to the only power that had not declared war on him yet, thanks incidentally, to Savonarola’s insistence. It was precisely after the talk you mention that Friar Girolamo proclaimed in the Duomo that he had convinced the king of France to respect our city. And if my memory serves me right, he also assured that King Charles would maintain all his promises, which included the return of all the cities we had given him. When Pisa, Pitrasanta, and Sarzana are once again in our power, my confidence in the prophetic faculties of Savonarola will increase.”
Lorena held her breath. This was like a keg of gunpowder about to explode. Everyone knew that the king of France had not kept his word, but to question the authority of Savonarola was an intolerable affront to his followers.
“How dare you blaspheme?” bellowed Luca. “The king of France assured Friar Girolamo that he would honor his promises, which is very different from prophesying that the monarch would stay true to his word. The worst ignorant is the one who refuses to listen. Remember well what I am about to tell you: on his return to Paris, when King Charles realizes that we were the only ones who stayed faithful to him, he will give instructions for the cities to be given back to us. Once he is there, he will have time to reflect upon his errors, repent, and return once again to Italy to accomplish God’s will. He will not be the first or the last person on the face of the Earth who resists heeding the divine voice and then finally surrenders after being punished by God’s wrath.”
“I propose a toast that Luca may be right and that we soon recover what is ours,” Alessandro quickly intervened.
Her brother Alessandro had managed the situation skillfully, to prevent the discussion from getting out of hand, although he would have been in agreement with Luca. During Lorenzo’s years of splendor he would not have hesitated in taking Mauricio’s side, when his star was at its brightest. However, under the aegis of Savonarola, Luca was now the favorite and the object of everyone’s attention. Lorena had no intention of reopening the controversy in spite of being sure that her husband was in the right, as she had personally listened to Savonarola’s mistaken predictions in the cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. The friar now allowed the presence of women again in the Duomo, although they had to dress very chastely and sit separately from the men in the left wing of the cathedral. In any case, independently of who was right or wrong, it was more important for Lorena to keep the peace in the family than to try and win an argument that could develop into a war without quarter. Her sister Maria probably thought the same, although it was difficult to know what was going through her mind as she never talked about political or economic issues, or anything else of importance when her husband was present, except when they talked about the children. Lorena had imitated her sister’s behavior during the lunch, although she doubted that this show of modesty would help to melt the ice that had formed between the two sisters since their last conversation.
Lorena observed Francesco, her father, who presided over the table as he had always done ever since she was a child. Many years had passed since then. She had become a woman and her father was now an old man. He had always been robust, but had lately lost an extraordinary amount of weight and his physique had changed. His features had become sharper and the bone structure in his skull seemed to show through the skin. His eyes had dulled, he spoke with difficulty, and found it hard to move around and even to breathe, so much so that sitting through a long meal gave him more pain than pleasure. Perhaps the true purpose of that luncheon, organized by her m
other, was to gather the family around the patriarch while he still had enough strength to preside over the table.
Lorena was preoccupied by her father but also about continuing to have a roof over their head to protect her own family. Mauricio had got dangerously into debt and in a year’s time would have to repay an absolute fortune. Lorena raised her glass with the others but in her heart she did not drink to the recovery of Pisa and the other cities as her brother had proposed, but to her husband’s ability to emerge triumphant from the storm.
97
The wind in the night had swept away the dark clouds, giving Florence a dazzlingly clear day. The sun shone high in the sky, gently caressed by a refreshing breeze. Lorena, inspired by this gift of nature, ventured into the street accompanied by Cateruccia and her two small daughters, Simonetta and Alexandra. Mauricio and her son Agostino had stayed at home suffering from stomach cramps. Both swore that the dinner they had eaten the night before was to blame. According to them, the truffle sauce was the cause of all their ills. Lorena, however, was convinced the sauce was done to perfection and that their malaise was none other than the result of the gluttony with which they had devoured one platter after another. Nor did Lorena discard the thought that father and son might have conspired together to invent an excuse to avoid going to the weekly mass officiated by Savonarola in the Duomo.
Lorena needed no excuse to shirk from going. Today, she had woken up feeling rebellious and had decided that instead of going to the cathedral, she would go to mass at Santa Croce. After all, were the Franciscans not just as much ministers of God as Savonarola? And did they not convert bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus Christ? So what was the difference between receiving holy communion from one or the other? She knew full well that the majority of Florentines would have answered that the presence of God was greater in the cathedral with Savonarola. After all, he was a prophet and even those who did not share that opinion would have exhorted her to go to the Duomo for fear of people talking.
The Florentine Emerald: The Secret of the Convert's Ring Page 33