The Bronze Crown. Stefano Vignaroli

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Bronze Crown - Stefano Vignaroli страница 8

The Bronze Crown - Stefano Vignaroli

Скачать книгу

and I should reward her with a betrayal?»

      Gesualdo leaned back, holding himself firmly on his legs, and made the young man’s sword crash to the ground with thunder.

      «Eh, love plays tricks on you! Yes, you’re very distracted today, you fight very badly, my friend. You’re lucky to have me in front of you and not an enemy, or you’d be dead already.»

      Andrea raised his sword again and struck a new blow against The Mancino’s sword, which made it swirl, causing his opponent’s unbalance and fall to the ground. In an instant, the edge of the blade resting threateningly on the young man’s neck. The latter, with an agile leap backwards, got rid of the grip and with a kick made the sword fly away from the The Mancino’s hand. Then he regained possession of his own and went on the attack again. This time it was Gesualdo in a position of inferiority. The thugs who watched were not new to the skirmishes between the two and bet who on one who on the other. In short, the crowd became uncontrollable: the two continued to fight, railing against each other, sometimes even shouting, while the bystanders continued to bet higher and higher sums and incited the fight. Until, all of a sudden, everyone was silent. Andrea and Gesualdo realized that something was wrong and stopped fighting. They raised their heads and came face to face with Duke Berengario of Montacuto.

      «Stop playing games, you two, and go make yourselves presentable. Tonight you’ll have the honour of dining at my table», he said in an authoritative voice. Then he turned around in his heels and disappeared down the corridor, in the direction he had come from.

      Rarely, during those long years, had Andrea entered the wing of the castle where the Lord, the Duke of Montacuto, resided. They were much richer rooms, both in furniture and decorations, than the ones he was used to frequent, in the part of the Fortress where soldiers, armigers and servants stayed, and where he had hardly conquered a room with a straw mattress, thanks to Gesualdo’s intercession with the Duke’s lieutenant.

      The times that Andrea found himself in the Duke’s presence were then counted on the fingers of his hands. It was good that the Duke was often far from the Castle, as he spent a lot of time in Ancona, both to keep the administrative affairs of the city under control, now that he had ousted the Council of Elders, and to follow closely the construction of the fortified citadel, a new bulwark to defend the port. The fact is that, since the Duke had saved him from the gallows with a precise purpose, that of sending him to the service of the Malatesta of Rimini, he had expected to have to leave that place of idleness much earlier. And instead, the Duke seemed to take pleasure in not receiving him, when for one reason, when for another, and to keep him among those barbarians, who had nothing to do with him, with his nobility, with his lineage, with his culture. He had not found even a book to read so that he could spend his time in a dignified manner, and his only hobby was to train himself to fight, which had really bored him. His only comfort was the friendship of Gesualdo who, despite his humble origins, he considered a faithful and wise companion in dispensing advice. The fact, now, of walking beside him, comforted him and instilled in his soul the courage he needed to face the eventual conversation with the old Duke of Montacuto.

      «Here we are at last. The time has certainly come to leave for the Montefeltro territories, to fight for real, to have brave men at my orders», Andrea told his friend, walking down a long corridor, where the sounds of footsteps were muffled by carpets placed above the floor, and the noises and voices were not allowed to rumble, thanks to a series of tapestries that covered the walls. «I will do as I am commanded, but on one point, on one point only, I will be intransigent with the Duke. You, Gesualdo, will have to accompany me. You will be my guide and my right arm. I want no one else beside me on the journey from here to Rimini.»

      «My young friend, you are strong and robust, while I am an old invalid. I don’t think our Lord will agree to your request. Even if he hasn’t summoned me for some time now and hasn’t entrusted me with any more missions after the one we both know, just knowing me away from here could be cause for concern for the Duke. Listen to me. Be quiet and make no foolish demands!»

      «Shut up, you! You may be old and crippled, but you fight much better and you’re much smarter than a young warrior. And then...»

      The words faded into his mouth, because they had reached the end of the corridor. The door wide open in front of them showed the dining room, where a long table was laid with all God’s blessings. Two reverent servants held open the heavy red velvet curtains that served as a frame at the doorway. As they passed by, the servants bowed deeply, then closed the curtains once the guests had crossed the threshold. Andrea and Gesualdo looked with wonder at the roasts of peacocks, pheasants and guinea fowl, roast potatoes and boiled vegetables. All the dishes were adorned with decorations, in a blaze of colours rare to see. Not to mention the smells, which reached Andrea’s nostrils to remind him of the perfumes that only in his father’s house he had appreciated at the time, and which he had almost completely forgotten. The wine in the pitchers was red, the typical dark colour of Mount Conero’s wine. Andrea felt a slight elbow, a prelude to the advice whispered by Mancino.

      «Go easy on the wine. For someone like you, used to Verdicchio and Malvasìa, the Rosso Conero can be dangerous. It goes straight to the head!»

      «The good moment may not last long, so we must act now in support of our friend Sigismondo Malatesta», Berengario began to say to his guests as he bit into a chicken leg, holding it by the bone, while the grease from his hand slipped down his forearm. «Now that Leon X is dead, Urbino and Montefeltro must be taken away from the Medici and the Holy See! Soon all the territories of the region of the Marche, including the Marca Anconitana, will have to be restored to the right balance. Subjected, yes, to the state of the Church, but still with independent civil governments. Unfortunately, Duke Francesco Maria Della Rovere seems to have retired himself in Senigallia, renouncing to regain the Duchy of Urbino, taken from him by Cesare Borgia and then passed to the nephew of Pope Leo X. Moreover, the territories of Jesi are in total abandonment. After the death of Cardinal Baldeschi, a papal legate was sent, who seems not so much to govern the city as to finish reducing it to exhaustion, to misery, taking advantage of the vacation of a civil government.»

      At these last words, Andrea’s heart leapt. The civil government of the city of Jesi was his by right. If the Duke of Montacuto wanted to restore the political balance, it would have been enough to send him back to his city, and he would have taken care of it and put this notorious papal legate back in the ranks. What was the point of sending him to fight for the Lord of Rimini? But perhaps the Montacuto’s intentions were quite different. Perhaps it would have served him well to maintain the situation of disorder in neighbouring Jesi, now that he had taken out the Council of Elders and had taken over the government of the City and the Marca Anconitana. Perhaps, at the last moment, he would have turned his back on everyone and sold Ancona to the Pope for a few tens of thousands of gold florins. Or perhaps he would have allied himself secretly with the Duke Della Rovere and would have made a common front with him, against the Pope and Malatesta himself, so that the latter would not have extended his expansionist aims towards the South. Who knows! Andrea would not have been sorry to return to Jesi and be able to see his beloved again. But if he hadn’t even been informed of the death of his sworn enemy, Cardinal Baldeschi, let alone if it had passed through the Duke’s mind to have him return home. So Andrea decided to remain silent and continue listening to Duke Berengario’s reasoning, distractedly bringing some potatoes to his mouth and savouring their delicate goodness. Only a few years before, the existence of this delicious tuber, which had recently been imported from the New World, was not even known. A servant poured red wine into his bowl and he gobbled it to accompany the potatoes on their way to his stomach.

      «The recently appointed Pope, Adriano VI, is a puppet, a puppet in the hands of the ecclesiastical oligarchy, who made it possible to wipe out the House of Medici, who were taking too much power, even in Rome. I don’t think it will last long, before Giulio de’ Medici devises something to take him out and take back the reins of the Ecclesiastical State. So we must seize the moment before

Скачать книгу