The Shadow Of The Bell Tower. Stefano Vignaroli
one inhabited by her and her grandmother. The uncle’s office was a huge room, lavishly furnished, the walls enriched with tapestries, the floor partly covered with a huge carpet. A bookcase occupied an entire wall, containing sacred and profane texts, valuable manuscripts and some printed texts, including a copy of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, made years earlier by Federico Conti in his printing house in Jesi. Lucia would have wanted very much to consult those texts, but she had always been strictly forbidden.
The smell of the velvets that covered chairs and armchairs contributed to make the air in the room heavy and unbeatable, almost to the limit of suffocation. The windows that overlooked the square allowed the Cardinal to gaze into the nerve centre of his city, keeping his illustrious fellow citizens under control, but they were always hermetically sealed to prevent the noise of the square and the streets from disturbing the concentration of the highest prelate of the place. The cardinal’s office allowed him to be above any other political office, also being able to challenge any decision of the People’s Capitan, who resided in the not far away Government Palace. The power conferred on him by Pope Alexander VI, and confirmed by his successors, Pius III, Julius II and Leo X, was in fact respected and, at the time, feared by all the other local authorities.
The Cardinal offered his ringed hand to his niece to kiss her, then invited her to sit in one of the imposing chairs in front of his desk.
«Lucia, my dear niece, you are no longer a child, and the time has come for you to find a man who is a worthy husband. If there is no other young man in your thoughts, I’d like to propose the son of the People’s Captain, Andrea. He is twenty years old, he is a handsome young man and is good at both riding and handling weapons», he turned to her, while cleaning the lenses of his glasses, of exquisite Venetian workmanship, with a small cloth. Waiting for the young woman to answer, he breathed again on the lenses, rubbed them carefully with the cloth and then twisted his glasses, staring his penetrating gaze into Lucia’s eyes.
The Cardinal, almost sixty years old, apart from his grey hair, was still strong, with a tall, slender figure; the sharp brown eyes stood out against the pale skin of his face, which despite his age was not yet furrowed by obvious wrinkles. Only in those rare moments when he smiled did crow’s feet form on the sides of his eyes. Lucia knew that this was certainly not the reason she had been summoned, and she tried to penetrate her uncle’s mind to know what he actually wanted, but his thoughts were sealed behind invisible and very strong barriers. Grandmother had warned her, Uncle Artemio was part of the family and, like all its members, was endowed with powers, perhaps stronger than all of them. Yet, in appearance and in the eyes of the people, he had dedicated his life to fighting witchcraft and heresy.
«If he’s a sorcerer too, why does he fight his fellow men?», Lucia asked her grandmother one day.
«Because it is since their defeat that he has been able to increase his powers. Never turn your back on him, never trust him, if he found out that you are a creature with strong powers, even if you are his granddaughter, he would not hesitate to condemn you to the stake, and watch you burning, while your powers also transfer to him. When you are in his presence, do not think, he reads your thoughts, even the most hidden ones, and in addition prevents you from reading his thoughts.»
And it was true! At that moment Lucia was experiencing that she couldn’t penetrate his mind in any way. It seemed he had no thoughts, and yet he had to have them.
«I should know if I like him, know him and see if I can fall in love with him.»
«Falling in love, what a big word! In noble families like ours, one marries by contract. The family finds a good match for the girl and she will honour her chosen husband. But I want to come to you. The People’s Captain, Guglielmo dei Franciolini, and I will organize a party where you and Andrea will get to know each other. And now go, I’ll let you know when the party takes place.»
Lucia had already got up from her chair and was about to take her leave, when the Cardinal spoke to her again.
«Ah, I forgot», he said, as if it was something he didn’t care about at all. «I was told that a few days ago you rescued a companion of yours whose clothes had burned. Good, the Baldeschi family must distinguish out in this town and show that we help others in all circumstances.»
At that moment, Lucia had a perception of her uncle’s mind as he was searching the far corners of her brain. She still couldn’t force herself not to think, but she tried to remember the scene in her mind in a different way from what had happened in reality. Elisabetta had approached the bonfire that the Dyer Master had lit in front of his workshop, at the beginning of the descent of the Fortress, to boil the pot of water in which he would immerse the fabrics to be dyed with his bright colours. A strip of the girl’s habit had been touched by the flames, which had gone up in a flash and had burnt her hair. Luckily, it had suddenly started to rain, and Lucia, who was walking there, observed her reddened skin and pulled out of her saddlebag a jar of aloe and linseed ointment, a natural remedy for burns that her grandmother had prepared.
«Very good, I’m proud of you!» repeated the Cardinal.
Lucia walked out of the room, hoping in her heart that she had bugged her uncle, even though she couldn’t be sure.
If he really knows I’m a witch and I have powers he might envy me, what will he do? Keep me under control until he’s sure of my abilities and then mercilessly throw me over a bonfire and watch me die in the flames? But then, why offer me a husband? Well, maybe this is a political game. Marrying his niece to the son of the People’s Captain will further increase his temporal power over this city, where too many people still proclaim themselves Ghibellines3 . I wouldn’t be surprised if my uncle wants to concentrate both religious and political power on himself. Be on your guard, Lucia, and don’t let your uncle or this young Andrea fool you.
She would have liked to know more about Andrea, even before meeting him at the official party. Who knows when this event would have taken place? If the uncle had exposed himself, he wouldn’t have taken so long to organize it.
Immersed in her thoughts, she crossed the long corridor that led her back to the wing of the building where she lived. At the end of the corridor she went down the stairs, finding herself on the ground floor, in the hallway at the entrance door. She would have had to climb up the stairs in front of her to reach her apartments. To her right, through a wooden door, there was the access to the stables. Morocco, her favourite stallion, sensed her presence and whimpered to greet the girl, who was tempted to push the door just enough to sneak in and give a caress to the black steed. But her attention was drawn to another small wooden door, which led to the basement of the palace. Usually that door was barred, but that day it was strangely ajar. Grandmother had warned her more than once not to venture into the basement. Down there was a labyrinth, in which it was easy to get lost, represented by the streets and rooms of the ancient Roman buildings. In fact, all the more recent buildings laid their foundations on the ancient Roman constructions. Lucia’s curiosity was too strong. She thought that if those ravines, that were now tunnels, galleries and cellars, had once been inhabited, the spirits of the ancient inhabitants could talk to her, tell her stories, confide their fears and feelings. Basically, Palazzo Baldeschi stood at what was the acropolis, the forum, the commercial and political centre of the city in Roman times. There were the temples, Baths, a little further away, where now stood the brand new Government Palace, there was a huge amphitheatre; closer, near the western walls of the city, the large cistern for water supply.
It’ll be dark soon down there, thought Lucia. I’ll need a light source.
She went into the barn and gave Morocco a little talk, and claimed the carrot the girl used to bring him as a gift. Lucia pulled it out of her pockets and the animal was quick to take it gently with his lips from her hands. She caressed the horse on the back of his nose, looking for a lantern. She saw it, unhooked it from the nail to which it was attached, checked that it was loaded with oil, then concentrated her gaze on the wick, which in a few moments caught fire. Lucia regulated the flame to the minimum, came out of the stable and ventured down the uneven stairs towards the bowels of the earth. Although Earth was one of the elements she had control over, she was a little afraid of it at the time. It almost seemed as if that ladder should never