Bianca (18 page)

“I will seek an audience with Lorenzo di Medici immediately,
cara
,” he told her.

Orianna’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled at him. “Go back to your mistress now, Gio. I apologize for taking you away from her. I am sure you were relaxing from the cares of your business. Will you be home later?”

“But late,” he said quietly as he arose to go. Orianna could be very understanding.

“Of course,” and she smiled again. They were going to save Bianca from the biggest mistake of her life, and she felt reassured now. Orianna felt little guilt for the unhappiness she would cause her eldest daughter. It would be temporary. Bianca was like her mother—a practical woman. Once she accepted the fact that she had no other choice than to let her misery go, she would. As she had accepted the fact of her marriage to Sebastiano Rovere.

Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo, as he had promised his wife, sought an audience with Lorenzo di Medici. Although Florence was a republic, and had no noble lord ruling it, the head of the di Medici family had for some years been considered the most influential man in the city. The main government body was chosen regularly several times each year.
Every male guild member who was thirty or older, free of debt, who had not served a recent term or was related to a man who was currently serving, was eligible for a two-month term in the Priori
.
Their names were drawn from bags kept at the church of San Croce.
They served in the Signoria, which
consisted of nine men. Six came from the major guilds, two from the minor guilds. The ninth man was called the
gonfaloniere
. It was he who was the temporary custodian and standard-bearer of the city’s banner.

To make certain each of the major and minor guilds was properly represented when the names were drawn, only those eligible for that particular term were chosen to serve. Once elected for their two-month term, the members of the
Priori
moved to the Palazzo della Signoria to live. They were housed luxuriously, fed splendidly, and even entertained. Each man wore a bright scarlet coat with an ermine lining. The collar and cuffs of the coats were also ermine. The
gonfaloniere
had gold stars embroidered on his coat so he might be told apart on public occasions.

There were other councils as well, consisting of other citizens: a council of twelve citizens, and another of sixteen. They were called the Collegi
.
If necessary, other councils were elected for commerce, security, or war. There were various officials such as a chancellor and a chief justice.

When difficulty threatened the republic, the great bell in the campanile of the Palazzo della Signoria would be tolled to bring all the male citizens of the city over the age of fourteen into its piazza. Each section of the city gathered behind its banner to march together into the piazza. Once it was decided that at least two-thirds of the male population was there, it was considered a
parlamento
, which formed a
balia
, a committee to deal with whatever emergency had brought them into the public square.

Still, despite the pride the Florentines had in their system, there were always families like the di Medici who seemed more prominent than other wealthy families. Families that appeared to have more influence over the events of other men’s lives. It was they that people like Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo, needing special or great favors, sought out in times of personal crisis. So it was that the silk merchant found himself being ushered into the presence of Lorenzo di Medici one afternoon, having begged an urgent audience several days earlier.

Lorenzo was probably the most charismatic di Medici ever born. Alone in a beautiful library, he was strumming on a lute, which, upon Giovanni’s entrance, he handed to a hovering servant. He then dismissed the man with a graceful wave of his hand so he and his guest might have the privacy he knew Giovanni would want. He greeted the silk merchant warmly and invited him to sit. He himself poured the wine and handed Pietro d’Angelo an exquisite crystal goblet with a gold rim, which allowed the drinker to admire not just the taste but the lovely color of the vintage he offered.

He was surprised to see Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo coming to him. The silk merchant was a successful man. He was known to manage his own affairs with competence, and without the need or advice of others. “It must be very serious,” he said to his guest, “for you to come to me, Gio. You look troubled. How is your beautiful wife? And your fine children? How may I serve you?”

“It is serious, my lord,” the silk merchant said and then he took a deep swallow of wine before continuing. “What I need cannot be accomplished without your help. Whatever the cost of that help, I must have it.”

Lorenzo di Medici nodded encouragingly and let his guest unburden himself.

“It is my eldest daughter, Bianca, my lord.”

“A lovely girl,” Lorenzo noted. “I remember Rovere displaying her at his more respectable dinner parties. And then she was not seen again. She had wit, Gio, and great charm. I was surprised when you married her to Sebastiano Rovere.”

“I did not want to, my lord, but Rovere, to my shame, blackmailed me, and I had no other choice,” Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo admitted.

“Tell me,” di Medici said. “It will not go beyond this chamber.”

The silk merchant reluctantly told the great man the tale of Stefano Rovere and his eldest son, Marco. He completed the story by saying, “I feared for my son, and I feared for our family’s good name and fortune,
signore
. I knew not what else to do.”

“Ahh, so that is how he obtained the fair Bianca,” Lorenzo replied. “How dishonorable of him. The man was despicable, and the city better for his death. Do you perhaps know who killed him, Gio?”

The silk merchant looked horrified. “No, my lord, I do not!” he exclaimed.

“They did Florence a great service,” Lorenzo di Medici said drily. “Gelding him and stuffing his cock and balls in his mouth were most fitting. But now let us get back to whatever problem it is you are having regarding Bianca, and we will see if we can help.”

“
Signore
, you know the Turkish merchant Prince Amir ibn Jem?”

“A charming and intelligent man, and an honest, reputable merchant. Yes, I know him quite well, Gio. Why?”

“My late son-in-law would not allow us to see Bianca for some months after the wedding. Then finally one day my wife was permitted to enter his palazzo. She found our daughter abused, sick, and terrified of her husband. Rovere was in the courts that day. Orianna did not hesitate. She removed Bianca from her husband’s home immediately and hid her in the convent of Santa Maria del Fiore until we were able to send her secretly to a small villa down by the sea that had been part of my mother’s dowry. She has lived there ever since. Her neighbor is Prince Amir.”

“They have become lovers,” Lorenzo Medici said astutely.

“Yes, after Rovere’s death but not before, my daughter swore to her mother. We wish to make a new marriage for Bianca, but she refuses to return to Florence or even discuss the matter. She would remain with the prince, and he would take her as a wife,” the silk merchant said in a distraught voice. “Such a thing cannot be, my lord. It cannot!”

“No,” Lorenzo di Medici agreed slowly, “it cannot. He is an infidel for all of his charm and good reputation among our community. But how do you expect me to help you with this problem, Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo?”

“Can you not send to his grandfather, the sultan, with all speed requesting that he recall Prince Amir to Turkey, my lord? If he were gone, my wife is certain we could bring Bianca to see reason,” the silk merchant said. “She has no calling to the Church, and so she must be married again. Her grandfather in Venice is even now seeking a suitable match for her. That was where we intended marrying her before Rovere blackmailed us.”

“I can send to the sultan with such a request, of course,” the di Medici replied, “but it would be weeks before this matter could be settled and Prince Amir gone. In the meantime, he could get your daughter with child, and such a thing would make her unmarriageable, for no man of good family would accept her as his wife then.”

“Then what are we to do, my lord?” the silk merchant asked despairingly. “What are we to do? I wish this man no harm, but he cannot have my daughter. My wife cannot eat or sleep for her distress in this matter.”

“However,” Lorenzo di Medici continued as if his guest had not even spoken, “we could secretly jail Prince Amir in the Palazzo della Signoria until his grandfather sends his Janissaries to escort him home. No one need know he is there. I will personally see that he is treated with all the respect due to his rank. Once he has disappeared, you can retrieve your daughter and make happier plans for her. Would that suit you, Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo?” Lorenzo di Medici smiled as he saw relief filling the silk merchant’s face.

“My lord! It is a brilliant plan! How can I thank you?”

“It is actually a small thing for me, Gio,” Lorenzo di Medici replied. “I know how to approach Sultan Mehmet, for my father’s many years as a diplomat and my own small experience serving the republic taught me how to deal with great rulers. Make no mistake, Gio; Mehmet the Conqueror is a great ruler and an intelligent man for all he is an infidel. Sending Prince Amir away is a sacrifice on my part, for I have always enjoyed his company, and the treasures he has found for me over the past few years are unequaled. No other dealer in antiquities has ever been so successful. But while we can share our courtesans and whores with an infidel, we cannot give them or allow them to take our daughters. I have never known him to care enough about a woman to want her for a wife. He is unlikely to give Bianca up, and from what you have said, Bianca will not give him up willingly. She must be protected for her own sake. As for what you owe me . . .” He paused as if thinking. “There will come a day when I ask a favor of you, Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo, and you will not refuse me, no matter the price.”

Once Sebastiano Rovere had said almost the exact same words to him, and he had agreed for the sake of his family. But Lorenzo di Medici was not Rovere. He was a man of honor, more powerful, his family more dangerous, and the price would be correspondingly higher, it was true. But Bianca must be saved from her infidel lover before it was too late. “I agree,” he said quietly. “I will not refuse the favor you require of me when you need it, my lord.” He stood and held out his hand to Lorenzo.

The great man stood and accepted the silk merchant’s hand as they shook in agreement. Then the two men sat again to drink their wine. When he had finally drained the goblet, Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo arose once more, thanking Lorenzo di Medici for his kindness. He returned home to tell his wife the matter would shortly be settled.

Orianna didn’t ask him for any details. Sometimes it was better not to know. She knew what she needed to know. Prince Amir would be removed from Bianca’s sphere. Orianna would shortly regain her eldest daughter’s company. Then she would make a wonderful marriage for Bianca, and Bianca would be truly happy again.

But Bianca was happy as Amir made arrangements for them to leave the republic and sail to Turkey. He had already seen to a vessel to take them to Constantinople. He had just one more trip to Florence to put his warehouse into the hands of his two employees, who were being told he was seeking new antiquities for his business. As he had taken such trips twice before, they had no suspicion that anything was different. Later he would inform them that he did not mean to return.

“I wish you didn’t have to go to the city,” Bianca told him the morning of his departure. “Why can you not simply send a message to your men?”

“Because neither of them reads very well,” he explained. “Actually only one of them can understand the bills of lading. They do better and are more reassured when their instructions are verbal, my love. They would consider it odd if I went off without speaking to them. Then they would gossip with others about it, and who knows what would be thought of my disappearance. So let me go and speak with them, Bianca. Krikor will come with me and I shall not linger. Two days at the most.” He kissed her a lingering kiss, breaking away with a sigh. “Soon we shall be at my palace and you will be happy, beloved,” he told her. Then he was gone.

Bianca was all packed and ready to depart. She waited two days, three days, and then a week went by. He had been delayed, of course, she thought, but he might have sent word to her.
How like a man
, she thought and she smiled. He probably expected with each new day that he would be leaving, and what a waste a messenger would be. But when the week ended and there was no sign of Prince Amir, Bianca took her horse and rode down the beach to the neighboring villa. When she arrived, she discovered to her shock that it was all closed up and deserted. As she walked around the outside of the house, she could see that heavy wooden shutters had been placed over the windows and the doors. She managed to peer through a crack in a kitchen window. Inside, the ovens and fireplace were cold, without fire. There was no sign of life whatsoever.

What had happened? Why was his home closed up when they had not gone yet? Frightened, Bianca returned to Luce Stellare to see if her own servants knew anything. They didn’t and were as surprised as she was, but that evening one of the young local menservants who enjoyed the housemaid Pia’s company arrived at the kitchen door. They brought him to Bianca to tell his story.

“Three days after the master departed for the city,” he began, “an official bearing the insignia of the di Medici family came to the villa. He paid us a full year’s wages, instructed us to close the house immediately and return to our own village. He remained the night while we accomplished the necessary tasks and then left with us seeing the villa was secured. That is all that I know or can tell you. The only one of the servants not one of us was Krikor, and he had gone with Prince Amir,
madonna
.”

“Thank you,” Bianca told the servingman. “I see my family’s hand in this,” she told Agata. “They have somehow managed to involve the di Medici in all of this.”