Guardia: A Novel of Renaissance Italy Page 21

  I remembered back to that night, struggling through the hazy and dreamlike recollections. “We all wore masks, and there were statesmen comingled amongst thieves. There was much talk of politics and war, but there were also games and music and the most exotic courtesans I think I’ve ever seen.”

  Brunelleschi laughed. “I think, dear Cosimo, that we should look a bit further into this gathering!”

  Cosimo held up his hand. “Anything else that you remember?”

  “I heard a man mention Rinaldo and Palla Strozzi working together against your family.”

  His thoughts seemed loud as he drifted momentarily. When he returned he said, “That actually makes a lot of sense. I should have expected that.”

  “Might I ask how you know so much about the Albizzi’s plan?”

  He shrugged. “As I’ve said, I do a fair bit of investigation on my own and I have a number of informants. There is an individual among the Albizzi that has proved to be a very reliable friend who has kept me abreast of many things. I can say plainly that not all of them are bad, thank God, or else this commune would truly be in trouble.”

  Brunelleschi changed the subject. “Mercurio, I’m told that you were the one who discovered the counterfeit florins. Also, you made some rather interesting observations at the Zecca?”

  “Well my brother is the one who informed me of the coins, and it was extremely fortuitous that he did because it turns out that these same coins were at the center of the murder investigation that I had been conducting. As for the events at the Zecca, some careful examination revealed that one of the dies had been stolen and a replacement left in its place. Which reminds me, has anything come of the mint’s own investigations?”

  Cosimo shook his head. “No, unfortunately. Although there is now talk of the creation of a new florin that is somewhat more difficult to counterfeit, a bit more similar to the ducat as I understand it. But this is another subject I wanted to speak with you about, Mercurio, this batch of counterfeit coins you discovered. Do you understand the significance of it, knowing what I’ve told you about the Albizzi?”

  “I understand that since they were originally kept in a sack bearing your family crest that there was some attempt to discredit you.”

  Cosimo nodded to Bruni, who spoke up. “Throughout history, there are many examples of money actually being used as an instrument of war. The act of counterfeiting itself is a crime against the state, which is why it frequently is punishable by death. It is a crime of fraud when it is committed on a small scale, but on a larger scale it threatens to destabilize the whole market.”

  “And the florins I found were part of a much larger cache,” I said.

  Bruni nodded. “Exactly. The coins that you discovered were also of a high quality and dispatched in a way to incriminate the Medici Bank directly.”

  It was all starting to make sense. “So these coins were minted in order to implicate the Medici in a false conspiracy as well as upset Florence’s economy.”

  “Correct again. Now, Mercurio, who is it that would wish to do harm to Florence’s stability more than any other?”

  I paused. “Visconti?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the Albizzi are attempting to ruin the Medici. Are you suggesting that they have forged an alliance?” The very idea seemed impossible to believe. “But how can this be? Rinaldo has been pushing for war with the duke.”

  “That may be true,” Dati said, “but doesn’t it remove him as a suspect? Besides, what are the lives of a few mercenaries in the long run? We know that Rinaldo will do anything, absolutely anything, to ruin the Medici. And we know that the silver has been originating from Arezzo as you determined, shipped from abroad from an unknown source.”

  “But do we have any proof that the duke is involved in this conspiracy?”

  “Unfortunately no, the evidence is purely circumstantial.” said Dati. “So far it is still a theory but we have as yet found no proof to refute it. Now what we need is you to track down Bartolomeo Neri in order to confirm it. At any rate, his counterfeit operations must be stopped before he floods the market with those coins and ruins any faith the world ever had in Florence as a financial power.”

  There was a moment of quiet as the reality sunk in. The stakes were never higher at this point and my worst fears of finding myself tangled in a political mess were now fully realized. Just as my father had found himself allied with the Alberti, I was now quickly becoming swept into the politics of the Medici and I knew there would be consequences. I would have loved to have stood and left, claimed that it was all a misunderstanding. But I had no choice, my path had led me here and I would have to see it through to the end.

  “So you understand the gravity, Mercurio. We understand if you are a bit overwhelmed. Believe me, we all were once we realized the extent of Rinaldo’s depravity. It is urgent, then, that you go to Arezzo at your first opportunity and begin your search for Bartolomeo. At this point he most likely feels that the trail has gone cold and he is safe. You now have an advantage. Make use of it!”

  I thanked Cosimo for his hospitality and bid good night to each of them. As I reached the door Cosimo stopped me. “You are headed for Arezzo next, yes? Then Leonardo, will you ride with the investigatore? I can think of no better guide than you, since you grew up there.”

  Bruni nodded. “Si, that is correct. I would be happy to meet you at the gates, Mercurio. I am at your service.”

  I bowed again, and as I emerged from the Cosimo’s sanctum the Medici’s steward appeared to escort me to the garden. There I found Jacopo sitting contentedly. He stood when he saw me.

  “So, how did it go? I want all the details.” His demeanor was almost childish, so unlike the comandatore. I waited until we had left the palace before I started speaking about the rendezvous. I gave him a brief recounting of the banquet and some of the discussion afterwards, careful to omit certain sensitive topics.

  “And what of your suspect?”

  “We haven’t been the only ones looking for Bartolomeo Neri,” I said. “In fact, it would seem that all the world wants a piece of him.”

  21

  Morning came suddenly and my head swelled with anxiety. I stumbled like I had not slept a wink. Methodically I collected my supplies for the trip and then dressed myself as best I could in the pale dawn light before departing for the stables. I took one last look around and spoke a silent prayer.

  It was eerily quiet while I marched towards the stables, and those few that passed by did so in a hushed veil to my senses. I was midway to my destination when a thought occurred to me that caused me to turn and make way to the Bargello instead. It would be a daring move but I could afford no chances. Jacopo would not have approved but at that point I didn’t much care.

  “Mercurio?” said the warden groggily. “What brings you?”

  “The prisoner, Antonio,” I said. “Rouse him. I’m taking him from his cell. He is a witness and I require him to identify a suspect.”

  “Really?” The warden lifted an eyebrow. “I presume that you have all the necessary paperwork?”

  “I do,” I said, presenting the official writ that Jacopo had signed and stamped that gave me certain special conditions of authority, per the Bargello, including the right to enter Arezzo and conduct my investigation unhindered by the local constables. I was not certain that this document would grant me leave to escort a prisoner out of custody, but it was worth the gamble.

  The officer snatched the letter and stared at it for a moment, his eyes straining to focus. “All right,” he said, rubbing his temples and handing it back. “Follow me.”

  We descended back down into the dark corridor amid the odor of piss and decay. With a loud rattle and clank he opened the rusted cell door and revealed the huddled mass that was Tibbi. He was still like a cadaver and I was afraid he had drawn his final breath but a shout from the warden caused him to wince and blink awake.

  “Investigatore?” he said fearfully. His lips were cracked a
nd he looked parched.

  “You are coming with me on a little journey.” I turned to the warden. “Unchain this man and bring him some street clothes.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “As you wish.”

  When he was finally dressed and somewhat, given the circumstances, cleaned up I led him out of the Bargello. He moved slowly, his injuries sustained from within the jail and the night of the attack still causing him great discomfort.

  “What are you going to do to me, investigatore?”

  “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I said gravely. “And if you cooperate then you may even escape the hangman’s noose. But try anything and I will end you, Antonio Tibbi.” I seized his collar and flashed my dagger to punctuate the message.

  “Si, of course, of course!” he cried.

  When we arrived the stable boy was leaning against a far wall, dozing silently. I knocked a couple times and he shook off the cobwebs. “Sorry, messere! Your horses are fed and watered. Will you be leaving now?”

  “Once my other companions arrive,” I said. “And if you please, I have need of one extra.” The boy obliged and, moments later, Lauro, Francesco and Pietro arrived one by one. Each was startled by the sight of the man beside me in the worn cloak.

  “A friend of yours, capo?” Lauro asked, his tone sour. His eyes bore the look of recognition when he saw the prisoner’s face.

  “Insurance,” I said. “Antonio is our guarantee that we find Giovanni da Sienna. Isn’t that right?”

  Antonio gave me an icy stare but remained silent. Lauro looked once more at the suspect, then at me.

  “I see,” he said steadily, shaking his head. “Will there be any more unexpected guests?”

  “As a matter of fact, we have one more meeting us at the Porta al Prato.” I left the others to their curiosity while the horses were saddled and then we were hoisted aloft. I eyed the prisoner carefully as he mounted his but there was little need.

  Our party proceeded straight south through the city, crossing the Ponte alla Carraia where the whole investigation had begun atop its solemn stone arches. A short while later we emerged at the gate. Leonardo was waiting.

  “Good morning,” he said cordially. “Shall we?”

  The men knew well who our guest was. Their astonished expressions spoke for them, for they were silent but courteous to the revered scholar and politician.

  “Signore Bruni shall be our host in Arezzo,” I explained.

  “This is correct. You may stay at my family’s villa while you conduct your inquiries. If you have any questions or need any favors please just ask.”

  We passed through the gates, then proceeded through the villages in the contado. The early morning mist clung and did not dissipate even as the sun crept up from the hills. A light breeze whipped up, swaying tree branches and stirring the grassy meadows visible from the road.

  The trip would take us a couple days, and we would rest at one of the villages of the Valdarno. Our course wound through the foothills and followed the river for a short distance before crossing it and travelling along its north bank. To our left were the lofty mountains of Pratomagno which swept upwards with its great forest of pine and spruce that covered most of its face. Over our right shoulders, past the river, arose the mountains of Chianti.

  We remained mostly silent while we rode, but Bruni was in good spirits and it made the journey more comfortable. I spared my companions the details of Tibbi’s history with me but kept it clear that the prisoner was to be watched at all times. Meanwhile, Bruni explained to us the layout of the city and some of its unique history.

  “It may come as a surprise because of its small size but Arezzo has an extensive past,” said Leonoardo, his eyes and voice animated. “Its origins extend before ancient Rome to the ancient Etruscan kings. Even today, the royal blood flows through the veins of its oldest families. Unfortunately its strategic location has led to its occupation throughout history, starting from the Roman Empire through the present.”

  “You mean like it does now with the republic of Florence?” Lauro said.

  “Indeed. But just because it has found itself under the frequent rule of foreign powers does not mean that it has lost its spirit. On the contrary, its culture is as vivacious as ever.”

  “So why did you leave it, Leonardo?”

  “I left because Florence is a real cosmopolitan city. Unlike Rome, which is chained to its past and exists in a cultural vacuum, Florence is a window to the world.”

  “This is why you became chancellor?” I asked.

  “Yes, that is entirely why. Elsewhere I studied history but in Florence I feel as though I’m playing an active role in making it. Don’t get me wrong, Mercurio, the study of the past is a truly noble occupation. And you would be surprised how exciting it can be to dig up the history as well. Perhaps one day I will introduce you to my good friend, Poggio Bracciolini.”

  I smiled. “I think I would appreciate that very much.”

  The day had grown long as we approached the village of San Giovanni Valdarno, where we would be spending the night. It was a small, rustic community nestled between the mountains and the river. We found lodging at an inn situated near the main piazza. After stabling our horses for the night, we procured a couple rooms for the evening. I shared one room with Pietro, Lauro and Antonio while Leonardo and Francesco shared the other.

  We supped in the common area of the inn, and I watched as Antonio ate sullenly. I was not about to let him out of my sight. I knew I was in enough trouble for stealing him away from the Bargello. Losing him would be even worse.

  Pietro surprised me while I was deep in thought. “Capo, I mean no disrespect but do you think it was wise to bring the prisoner?”

  I chewed slowly, then said, “We can take no chances. This man is our only connection with Bartolomeo and his broker. As it stands the republic is facing a major scandal if we’re unable to stop him.”

  He cleared his throat nervously and I noticed his face was pale. “But he nearly murdered you. Aren’t you afraid for your life around this man?”

  “Pietro, for the last few days I’ve been afraid for my life. This changes nothing. In fact, I feel safer here in this remote village with you all around me than I would in the city. We’ll see the end of this soon. You may sleep with one eye open if it makes you feel better.”

  Pietro laughed. I glanced across to see Leonardo in the midst of telling a gripping story to Lauro and Francesco, who were enthralled. Antonio sat silently, staring into his bowl. Sensing my gaze, he lifted his eyes and met mine. I sensed a void that startled me, a cold threat that was vague and wordless and persistent. I decided that once we reached Arezzo and identified Giovanni we would leave him with the local magistrates until we had reached Bartolomeo.

  In the morning we recovered our horses and continued onwards to our destination. The night before had gone without any unexpected surprises. Antonio was on his best behavior but continued to regard us coldly. Lauro and Francesco detected my uneasiness and kept close. Leonardo must have noticed as well but he kept his jolly countenance.

  “We should make it before nightfall,” he said. The skies were covered in thin silver clouds that let the sunlight through in thin slivers. "Do you know where we are now, Mercurio?"

  "No."

  "These are the fields that the Battle of Campaldino took place on in the late 1200s. It was a battle between the Florentine Guelfs and the Ghibbelines of Arezzo. Amauri of Narbonne led the Guelfs, and his soldiers crushed the Ghibbeline forces due to their innovative field formation, a crescent, rather than that of their opponents, which was the traditional arrangement of an advanced guard and a main body organized into columns. It also helped that the Guelfs' infantry was made up of a heavy concentration of crossbowmen in addition to their pikemen." He gazed across the empty field, envisioning the placement of the troops.

  A cool breeze whipped up, thrashing at the tarps of passing wagons and the cloaks of travelers. Eve
n in the late morning the clouds remained, travelling fast and low above our heads. By then we were ascending up from the valley, following a meandering road that brought us slowly to the city in the hills.

  I turned to Antonio, who was slouched in his saddle. “How clearly do you remember Giovanni?”

  “I could spot him from far away, ser. His features are distinctive.”

  “Do you recall where his shop is?”

  “He owns a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, but he keeps a stall within the market where he does his transactions.”

  I turned to Leonardo. “Leonardo, you said that you would allow us to stay at your house while we search for this broker.”

  “Certainly, Mercurio. It is located right in the heart of the city. I don’t spend much time there so I hope you do not mind dust. But it will be perfect for your investigation, I think.”

  “Perfect.” As I uttered that word I felt a drop on my head. In the distance I could see silver sheets hanging low from the sky. The storm would be upon us soon, I thought.

  “It’s not much further,” Leonardo said encouragingly. I couldn’t tell if this was true or not, the already low clouds had dropped and seemed to touch the ground, obscuring the tops of the hills around us and the road which wound between them.

  Moments later the wind and rain were beating us. The horses were clearly dismayed but continued trudging at our insistence. A couple times I had to look over my shoulder to make sure everyone was accounted for since the sound of our voices was drowned out by the din of the storm.

  True to Leonardo’s word, the walls of the city sprung into view as we crested the hill. Its flanks were drab but a welcome sight. The clouds above us had turned from a sour gray to an angry black.

  “Onward to the gate!” I bellowed. My horse surged and I had to grip the reins tightly to hold myself aloft. Within moments we had all passed beneath the main gate’s stone arch and were inside the security of the old city.

  Above us loomed the bell tower of the Santa Maria della Pieve in the heart of the city and Leonardo led our sodden group straight towards it. Along the way we passed several notable buildings, which our host was eager to identify.