Chiara – Revenge and Triumph (28 page)

She finally plucked up the courage to talk to Antonia when the latter seemed to be in a contented mood while enjoying the meager winter sun in her chair by the window.

"So you’re all scheming of how to get rid of me. I should have known that’s what you would do. I was good enough for you when my art brought people to the shows, but not anymore."

"Antonia, that’s not true. We’re all fond of you and worry about you."

"Yes, worried that I would be a burden. I know you lot. Washing your hands the moment there’s trouble."

"Antonia, you are unfair. I have always stood by you and you know it."

"Then prove it by taking me along when you leave."

"I would love nothing better than that, but it would kill you. You wouldn’t be able to sit on the donkey for hours or stand the rain and the cold. Whereas if you stayed with the sisters at Santa Maria, they would look after you and you could enjoy the last years of your life in peace. I’ll pay for you, so they will be good to you."

"I’m not staying with a bunch of frustrated spinsters who lick the arse of the bishop. You just want to get rid of me. I insist that you take me along. You owe me that. You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t asked Lorenzo to take you."

No matter what arguments Chiara raised, the old woman was not budging, and Chiara gave up, hurt by the unjust accusations. The time of their likely departure was still two months off. She would try again another time and much could happen until then.

* * * 

By the time lent came and the city slipped into abstinence and piety, they had settled into a relaxed routine of offering two private shows per week, including one to the wool weavers’ guild, although the take from that was only a fraction of the purses they collected from the noble houses. Alda claimed that the two months in Siena had netted them more than they had earned in several years under Lorenzo’s leadership.

Prevented from performing for the next forty days, Chiara began to sit into more lectures. She particularly enjoyed the ones on philosophy. The work of Aristotle had received renewed interest from the philosophers in universities, after having been forgotten and neglected for almost a thousand years. She was fascinated by the complex arguments about humanity, its relationship to the cosmos, things, both physical and abstract. After hearing the theories of Socrates, she was convinced of their truth, only to find them replaced by Plato’s and his by those of Aristotle. It confused her. If these great minds disagreed with each other, how could an ordinary woman like her make sense of it? Maybe there was no unique truth, but many truths, or if there was only one it was beyond man’s ability to discover it. Attending these lectures made her both happy and sad at the same time — sad that she could not share them with her father.

After one of them, she deliberately waited for Gaetano to leave his friends and then followed him. She wanted to milk him about business affairs.

"And how are your father’s affairs going?" she asked, as she joined him.

"Ah, Anselmo, have you changed your mind about serving God?"

"Does a merchant not also serve God by increasing his bounty?"

"Anselmo, you are such a slippery fellow; always answer a question with another question, and don’t remind me now that asking the right question is the most important thing."

"Fine, but tell me about business. How does a merchant go about it?"

"Buying goods where they are cheap and selling them where their price is high."

"Yes, even a simple servant of God like me can figure that out. But seriously, say, I have a thousand florins, how can I make them grow?"

"You could open a small shop, hire a few workers and produce wool cloth. A thousand florins would probably just be enough to buy a dozen looms and a house big enough to put them in, a few dozen pokes of wool, and pay a dozen workers until you can sell the bales of cloth to buy more wool and start over again. Or you could join a group of merchants who finance a shipload of goods for sale in, say, Constantinople, with the proceeds reinvested to buy another shipload of goods there to be brought back here. That’s much more profitable, but also much more risky."

"Do you mean risky in the sense that the ship could be lost at sea?"

"Yes, or fall prey to pirates, although several galleys usually go together for added protection."

"Is Casa Salimbeni involved in such business?"

"Sometimes, but mostly we only loan funds to other merchants for such ventures. A full shipload is easily worth ten to twenty thousand florins."

"But isn’t that equally risky for you?"

"We get guarantees. First, the loan agreement specifies that we get paid first from the sale of the goods and the merchant may even have to pledge other property, such as land and houses he owns, as guarantee. And then Casa Salimbeni never advances funds to somebody we do not know or for whom we don’t get testimonials from a reputable source."

"Is that similar to being a silent partner?"

"No, a silent partner does not secure the funds by getting guarantees."

"So, why would anybody want to be a silent partner?"

"Because he participates fully in the profits of the venture. Just his name is not officially listed as part of the group."

"I see. And who owns the galleys?"

"Siena merchants use mainly galleys run by Pisa."

"I thought that Casa Sanguanero owned ships. Aren’t they from Siena?"

"How do you know?"

"Oh, I overheard somebody talk about Signor Sanguanero having lost an eye in an attack by pirates."

"Yes, and he lost the other eye about two years ago when a girl they rescued off the coast from Porto Pisano stabbed him."

"You say they rescued her and she stabbed him? Why would she do that?"

They had reached the Campo and were standing in the meager winter sun.

Gaetano grinned. "I can only guess. Maybe he wanted to be paid in kind and she wasn’t willing to oblige and instead penetrated him in the eye, but then I should not mention things like this to a novice who has foresworn all such earthly pleasures." He clearly enjoyed himself.

Chiara smiled. "There are others we may indulge in without being hauled over the coals — gluttony, pride, conceit, sloth, laziness. But how do you know that he did not rape her and that she stabbed him in revenge?" She was just barely able to control her voice.

"Yes, that’s a thought, but we’ll never know. She jumped back into the sea, and I guess she drowned. Pity, she must have been quite a wench."

"Poor girl. Who runs Casa Sanguanero, now that the old man is blind?"

"His son, Niccolo Sanguanero, together with Filippo Baglione da Camerino, the husband of Niccolo’s sister, Lucia, but I guess Massimo Sanguanero still has a firm grip on things. Lucia is quite a beauty."

"So she is, I’ve been told. Do they still have ships?"

"Yes, but they are smaller, merchantmen, not galleys, and run mainly in the Western Mediterranean, to Sicily, and Spain, Valencia, Barcelona."

"These trips must take weeks."

"To Spain? About two to three months, depending on whether they also visit the Barbary Coast."

"And to Constantinople?"

"The Venetian galleys take about six months or more to return."

Didn’t Niccolo mention that the Venetian galleys leave in May? So they must only make one trip per year.

"Which cities are involved in the sea trade, besides Pisa and Venice?"

"Genova, they are almost as big as Venice. Pisa was big a hundred years ago, but no longer now. There are a few ships based in Naples, but again nothing compared to Venice or Genova. Why do you want to know all this?" queried Gaetano.

"Curiosity… One never knows. It could be useful to know."

"Anselmo, if you ever change your mind about your career, let me know. See you tomorrow."

* * * 

The end of lent and Easter — early that year — came and went. Siena followed the Florentine calendar with the Annunciation on the 25
^th
of March, the Church festival commemorating the incarnation of the Virgin Mary, as the beginning of a new year. The festive celebrations for the New Year were the occasion for I Magnifici to resume performing. The time to go again on the road was approaching fast.

Neither Chiara nor Alda had made any progress in convincing Antonia to remain in Siena. Chiara even offered to pay the rent on the house they stayed in and have a woman come in once a day to look after Antonia. The old woman was adamant that she was coming along with them.

"She’s afraid that she might die alone," remarked Alda.

Chiara also worried that they had not received any reply from Alda’s daughter in Prato or her family. It was now half a year since she had written that letter on that fateful night in Assisi. She hoped that this was not a bad sign, but only reflected the difficulties of any letter addressed to I Magnifici to reach them.

* * * 

The law lectures finally covered the legal obligations of lawyers and notaries. By law they were required to keep dated summary ledgers of all legal transactions conducted by them, as well as copies of all legal documents they signed or attested. So both her marriage contract as well as the compensation settlement with Sanguanero were recorded with a notary, Sanguanero’s notary she presumed.

During these weeks, she had not been idle about learning more on business affairs, particularly trade with the East, where the spices came from, and how merchant bankers operated. There were several sons of such houses in the law class and most felt flattered to be asked questions. As she suspected, the merchant bankers regularly sent messengers to their agencies in other cities. She remembered seeing such messengers on the road, usually accompanied by armed guards. She also learned the name of one of the major merchants running ships out of Naples, a Signor Cosimo Adelphi dei Guantani, making sure to memorize it carefully. Hinting that she had a sister soon entering the age of marriage, she discreetly milked them about the reputation of the three marriage brokers, whose names she had obtained from the Podestà’s offices. Only one turned out to be considered reputable enough to be consulted by important families.

At the last philosophy lecture she attended, Professor Gomez discussed man’s quest to discover the ultimate truth, to know what really existed in contrast to what was only appearance. He cited that one test of the truth was that all men of intelligence and fully knowledgeable on the subject agreed.

"Take the world. Assume that the high parts, the mountains and hills, are used to fill the low parts, the valleys and plains, until all surfaces are at the same level everywhere. All reasonable men could then verify and would agree that the world is flat."

Has the man never been at the sea?
went through Chiara’s mind, and before she caught herself, she was standing, holding up her hand, and asked: "With your permission, esteemed Professor."

"Yes. What is your name?"

"Anselmo Cavolta, esteemed Professor. I am confused. Your example, is it intended to demonstrate the truth or only the appearance of truth?"

"It should be obvious that it is an example of establishing the truth."

"But Aristotle proved that the world is a sphere." She was shaken by her own audacity.

"It is the truth as accepted by the Holy Church and as shown by the map of the world drawn by the celebrated Constantine of Antioch. Aristotle was mistaken. You may sit again."

He turned away from her. She remained standing. She was not going to be dismissed like this.

"With your indulgence, Professor."

"Yes, what is it again?" He sounded annoyed.

"Professor, I would be obliged if you would explain to me the following observation I made two years ago. I was on the Island of Elba, in a small port on its northern shores. To the north, I could see Isola di Capraia which is about twelve leagues away. The silhouette I saw was a cone with steep sides, a bit steeper on the west than on the east. That same day I climbed to Volterraio, the highest peak on the eastern part of Elba. From there, the shape of Isola di Capraia I saw was still steep on its western side, but the other side was now elongated by low hills extending to the east, thereby doubling the width of the island. If the world is flat, how can this observation of mine be explained?"

His face did not hide his displeasure. "The answer is simple. You were the victim of a false appearance. At such a great distance, things become unclear. Maybe the strenuous climb up the mountain affected your vision. The class is dismissed for today."

He cast another disdainful glance at her, as he marched out of the hall.

"That was not very clever of you, Brother Anselmo," she heard Stefano, as she walked out. "It is not a good idea to contradict a professor who, by definition, must know better than his students. It will cause you untold troubles, I am certain. But it is now too late, you should have thought more carefully before you opened your mouth."

His paternalistic lecture got her hackles up, but she suppressed the sharp reply on her tongue. "
Salve
, Brother Stefano. But he is wrong, professor or not."

"Psst, do not aggravate your error even further."

They were quickly surrounded by a large group of students.

"Brother Stefano, even professors may be wrong or else our knowledge would still be the same as it was at the time when the ancient Greeks had their first
Lyceum
."

"Stefano, haven’t you yet learned not to pit your reasoning against the superior powers of Anselmo?" It was Gaetano. He was grinning from ear to ear. His remark was greeted by laughter except from those in clerical garb.

Chiara turned back to the novice. "Brother Stefano, my eyesight was not affected. It was a clear day. I could even see the mountains on Corsica, and I made the same observation several times, and later confirmed the shape of Capraia when I sailed past it on a boat."

"So you claim that your observation is an empirical proof that the world is a sphere," exclaimed another student.