Futile Flame (7 page)

‘Slowly.’

He lay beside me, holding me. Occasionally sitting up to bring me more water.

‘I did have a minor ailment. But I wanted to think about things. Make plans,’ he told me.

‘Plans?’ I turned to face him again. Hope blossomed in my chest, pushing away the fear and loneliness of the previous weeks. Caesare would run away with me, as he had promised. That had to be the only solution open to us now.

‘Yes. I have been to see an apothecary. He’s making a potion that will help you abort. Our problem is solved, Luci.’

My limbs became paralysed. I lay stiff and afraid as Caesare explained the effects of the potion. I felt sick.

‘And then we can carry on as before. Of course you may be sick for a while. But that will only help our plans with postponing the wedding...’

‘Get out,’ I said pushing him away. ‘Get out and never come near me again.’

‘Luci. Be sensible. You know this can be the only resolution.’

‘You said you loved me. You said you wanted to run away with me, how can this have changed things?’

‘Luci, we don’t want a baby right now. How can we possibly? But later, when we can leave, when we can pretend to be man and wife, then it may be possible. Don’t you see your

confinement will be a hindrance to our plans?’

I closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep and never wake.

‘I hate you. Go away.’

He wouldn’t leave.

Not until his lust was satisfied.

He forced himself on me, rutting like an animal, knowing he could pour his seed inside me now without further consequence.

He stayed there for most of the night, taking me over and over as I remained limp and unresponsive beneath him.

In the morning I lay listless but could no longer resist the food or water offered. With the realisation that I wanted to spare the child inside me, my sense of survival prevailed. Caesare’s suggestion that we murder the baby had the opposite effect. I wanted my sin to be born into the world for all to see. I wanted the world to recognise that I was a whore. Only a whore would lay with her own brother.

I quickly recovered. Father and the servants soon forgot that Caesare and I had been sick. Life returned to normal. Except, I now locked my door at night. Every morning a new letter would be pushed under my door.

Luci, please. I do love you. I can’t live without you.

Caesare of course was mortified by my rejection, but the more I ignored his notes, the more threatening they became.

You’re a fool. Soon the world will recognise you for a whore. How stupid, when I could have helped you. Let me back in tonight and we will say no more about it. Otherwise, I will renounce you!

I avoided being alone with him at every opportunity, but sometimes he contrived to catch me unawares and it was during these moments that his anger flared the most. Even then I didn’t know how terrible his rage could be.

‘What do you think you’re doing? The longer we leave this the harder on you it will be. Take the potion, Luci. Don’t you realise how dangerous this could be if the pregnancy continues? Someone will surely notice.’

We were at a small gathering and I had gone outside to get some fresh air. It was mid-afternoon in May; the day was warm but not too hot. The garden of our host was beautifully

maintained. I wandered among the flower-lined paths, looking only for some peace. It was easy to deny my circumstances in the light of day with natural beauty to distract me.

‘Go to hell, brother dear,’ I replied. ‘I will not take the life of my child, no matter what it costs me.’

‘Bitch. You endanger us both,’ he cried grabbing my arm and spinning me around to look at him.

‘Why are you so afraid? It is me that will bring shame on the family, not you. And Father will just send me away when he realises. At least then I will not have to wed the Spaniard. More importantly I will not have to see you again.’

I pulled my arm free, and rubbed the skin, feeling the start of bruising.

‘You’re naive to believe that all Father will do is send you away. He’s the Pope, and you, his daughter, will be named as a whore. I’ll tell him.’

‘You’ll tell him what? That you raped me in his library?’

‘You wanted it.’

My stomach churned as I looked into his bloodshot eyes. He’d been drinking since I had rejected him. There was a darkness surrounding him. A cold, selfish glow that made me feel afraid and again that shiver ran up my spine. He looked feverish, obsessed and furious.

At that moment a group of girls my age left the house. Their excited chatter reached us. Caesare’s eyes released me from their hypnotic hold to glance quickly in their direction. It gave me the opportunity to turn and walked away from him towards the small group.

‘Lucrezia, join us,’ shouted my friend, Alcia. ‘Oh, and why don’t you bring your most handsome and charming brother with you?’

I felt Caesare turn to follow, my shoulders stiffened. Alcia was always flirtatious with Caesare. He had often laughed at her interest and I wondered now what he would do. I could still feel his anger as he caught up with my fast steps across the lawn, grabbing my elbow, swinging me around once more.

‘Unlock your door to me again,’ he said. ‘I can’t bear it. I want you.’

I stared at him. ‘Leave me alone, Caesare. We both knew it was a sin and now we are being punished. I am no longer your whore.’

I pulled free of him and left, hurrying towards the girls confidently. Although I didn’t look back, I knew that Caesare turned on his heel and strode away in the opposite direction.

‘Whatever is the matter with Caesare?’ asked Alcia.

‘Oh, we had a fight. He annoys me, he’s so bossy.’

‘I have the same problem with my brother,’ Alcia replied.

Chapter 10 – Lucrezia’s Story

It wasn’t long before Father discovered my secret.

Guila knew of course. She had suspected all along that Caesare and I were experimenting with each other. Our sudden rift was a sure sign to her that things had progressed further than they should. It was Guila who came for me, her eyes grave as she led me from my room that morning to my father’s study.

‘It seems I have been too lapse in my duties as a father,’ he said.

I found it impossible to look at him. Father was still in his papal robes. He had just delivered a special mass.

My cheeks flushed with guilt. Caesare stood beside me, head downcast, but I didn’t look at him. I felt him swaying slightly beside me as I trembled and shied away from the accusing gaze of our father.

‘You were seen together,’ Father continued. ‘Fortunately by a loyal servant. Hence I have been able to avoid scandal.’

‘Seen?’ I asked my voice quivering.

Father glared at me. ‘I should have named you Eve.’

So I was to be blamed. I was the temptress who led Caesare astray. I was the whore. I waited for his condemnation. Maybe we would be publicly renounced, flogged or, if Father felt strongly enough, even executed. Caesare remained as silent as I. How could we deny the truth? I felt such rage that he would stand there and let me take all of the blame. How could I possibly expect anything more from him? When it came down to it he was just as afraid of father as I was.

‘I thought at first it was nothing, that Caesare would tire of his little game with you and you would have gained some experience to take into your marriage, Luci. But it seems things have gone too far.’

I felt his eyes bore into my belly. It was clear to me that Caesare had confessed to Father, had told him everything, throwing himself at his mercy in a bid to receive lesser punishment. I could not decide whether this final betrayal was vindictive because I had refused to let him return to my bed. His anger had been so intense the last time we met. He had threatened to tell Father I was pregnant, had threatened to tell him I was a whore, unless I let him in. I opened my mouth to speak, to tell Father that Caesare had raped me. He would not make me take all the blame.

I glanced at my brother and saw the bruises. Blood seeping from his lips and around his mouth, spilled over his once crisp white shirt. He swayed on his feet. He looked hurt, frail and weak. I realised then that he hadn’t told on me; the truth had been beaten from him.

My emotions were in turmoil. I felt pain for him, fear for myself. I was unable to speak, for what defence could I offer? I was a whore; I had committed incest with my brother. The church would condemn us. The very least we could expect was exile and it was unlikely that that would be our only lot.

Father turned to me, his eyes furious. As he stepped forward, his arm raised to strike me, both Guila and Caesare moved in front of me.

‘Don’t hurt her. It was me! All of it my fault, Father. I told you! She was too innocent to understand what was happening,’ Caesare begged. ‘Please, she’s with child. Don’t hurt her. Punish me.’

Caesare threw himself down before our father, who stopped, shocked by the ferocity of his defence of me. His eyes skipped from Caesare to me. Guila held my shaking body against her, her eyes pleading with Father. At that moment she was more a mother to me than she had ever been.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘She’s merely a child!’

‘Take her out of my sight,’ Father ordered. ‘Caesare, you shall be punished.’

Guila led me away. I looked back once more at Caesare still lying at the feet of our father. Father wore a glazed, somewhat insane expression, as he turned his eyes from me to his kneeling son, who quivered as he waited for the blows to fall.

Guila took me back to my room, where I found two young servant girls packing my clothing and personal possessions into trunks. I burst into tears and Guila took my hand, sending the servants away as she laid me on my bed.

‘Some brothers and sisters do learn about love together,’ Guila told me. ‘But never take things beyond propriety.’

‘Father. . ?’

‘He knows this. And all will be taken care of. He’s brought your wedding date forward again.’ Guila stroked my head.

‘What!’ I tried to sit but she forced me back down.

‘Please don’t be afraid. Your new husband will not be permitted to have you. The marriage will be in name only, Lucrezia, and your father will pay him well for his troubles.’

‘Everyone will know,’ I answered. ‘My condition will become obvious soon.’

‘That is why you and I are going on a trip. We’ll be away for several months. It will coincide with your father’s Papal duties. He needs to do a tour of Italy. All of Rome will think you are with him, but instead you will be doing your confinement in a mountain retreat.’

I fell silent. My shame would be hidden but what of my child?

‘All will be taken care of,’ Guila said again.

I should have felt reassured. The sinister realisation that I needed to be hidden and ‘taken care of’ terrified me. I knew my father had ordered deaths for less than my shame would cause him. So what might become of me in my confinement? More importantly, what might become of my baby?

A proxy wedding ensued. This was a common occurrence and the contract stated that the marriage was not to be consummated for a year. I would remain with my family in Rome during that time. For his trouble, my new husband, Giovanni Sforza d’Aragona (a mercenary captain), would receive 31,000 ducats as a dowry; a huge sum. His own illegitimacy ensured his compliance. Making a match with the daughter of the Pope was a very good political move. He did not know that his new wife was already with child. Any future meeting with me would take place long after the birth. He was paid well for all his patience.

‘What was he told?’ I asked Guila.

‘That your father considers you too young for consummation, but in a year it will be possible.’

‘So, I’m to be given to him anyway,’ I protested quietly.

‘We shall see,’ Guila smiled. ‘Your father has the whole thing worked out.’

So on the twelfth of June I was taken from Rome, immediately after the wedding, up into the mountains and to a house in San Marino, out of the jurisdiction of Rome. Six months later, I gave birth to my first son.

Chapter 11 – Present

I stare at the tears in her eyes. Why am I so surprised that Lucrezia once had humanity? Why am I so amazed that she loved her child? My arrogance has led me to believe that I was the only one who had emotions, who cared about the past. Now I am more intrigued than ever to know what happened to her to make her so bitter and cold when we first met, when she changed my life forever.

‘You loved your son.’

‘Yes, and like a thief in the night they took him from me. I gave him a name though, I called him Antonio; I don’t know if he was called that later.’

I blink, confused. ‘What happened to him?’

She shakes her head, unable to speak.

We are in a bar now, no longer at her house. Lucrezia had said she wanted a more neutral territory to tell me more. The music from the speakers is too loud and the Karaoke will start soon. It is hardly the right place to discuss the old world. It is most certainly inappropriate to reveal such raw emotion. Yet this is her chosen place. This is her appointed ‘neutral’.