WSIM24B Ch. 07

- "Slaves." he said. "Most are Greek, or Circassian, but we get some Tatars, too."

- "Slaves?" What was I thinking? Of course there were slaves. The trans-Atlantic slave trade was about to begin, once Columbus and his crew had finished sowing smallpox among the indigenous populations of the Americas.

- "Chattel." said Miguel. "They are classified as domestic animals in their owners' inventories. Many become pregnant by their owners, so the foundling hospitals are kept busy." His tone was scathing.

- "You don't approve."

- "Do you?"

- "No." I said. For all the failings of my own era, we had at least reduced wage slavery and crushing debt because of health care costs.

- "Some are born to lead," said de Lorqua, "and some are born to serve. It is the nature of man."

I needed the man's help, at this stage, so I held my tongue.

He led us to the Apostolic Palace. I was amazed. It was huge, for one thing. Multi-storied, and quite extensive, the Palace dwarfed everything nearby. It wasn't a castle, or a fortress, though.

- "Can it be defended?" I asked.

- "You'll see." said de Lorqua.

There were uniformed guards at the entrances, men with halberds. They were Italian, and more decorative than useful. Inside the doors, there were three swordsmen lurking. Spaniards, of course. Three of the men who had come with us took their places.

"Would you be willing to take up such duties?" de Lorqua asked me.

- "I would be happy to help."

He tilted his head to one side. "We may find even more useful employ for you. Miguel - perhaps you should take him past the Castel Sant' Angelo. I will see you again, Signor Pilgrim."

Miguel led me out of the Palace, and then headed east.

- "What did you think of him?" he asked me.

- "De Lorqua? I imagine that he's somewhat of an acquired taste."

Michelotto laughed, and clapped me on the shoulder.

- "You're a rare creature, Pilgrim. I don't quite know what to make of you, and I'm not certain if you're trustworthy... but I do enjoy your company."

- "Thank you." I said. "I feel much safer in your company."

Michelotto sobered immediately. "Yet you could have died, last night."

- "Not because of you. You held your position."

- "Hmm..."

He led me back towards the Tiber. That was how I got my first look at the Pope's stronghold, the Castel Sant' Angelo. It was a massive circular fortress, with its back to the Tiber river. It was originally meant to be a mausoleum for the Roman Emperor Hadrian and his family, he told me. One of the Popes had connected it to St Peter's Basilica by a covered fortified corridor - an escape tunnel, if you will.

- "The walls are crumbling." I said.

- "It needs upkeep." he admitted.

- "Are those...?" I had caught sight of a grisly spectacle: there were bodies dangling from the parapets of the Castel Sant' Angelo.

- "Thieves." said Miguel. "Poor thieves, actually. Or murderers. The better class of criminals pay fines to escape execution."

- "You're serious?"

- "There are less than 50,000 people in Rome, Pilgrim." he said, playing on my name. "Some 7,000 of those are prostitutes. Most work out of brothels licensed by the Papal authorities. There are also thousands of professional criminals - many of whom pay bribes to those same authorities. On average, there are 14 or 15 murders a day in the city."

And I was stuck here. I had to find a way to support myself. De Lorqua wasn't going to find my father, because I'd made him up. Guard at the Apostolic Palace wasn't a prestigious job, but with my size and looks, I could probably attract some attention, and I had enough skills to make an impression.

"How much money do you have?" asked Miguel.

I showed him. The purse I'd collected from one of Cesare Borgia's friends held six copper pieces, two more silver coins, and a single gold coin.

- "I have no idea what they're worth here, though." I admitted.

- "You are too trusting." said Miguel.

In fact, I was testing him a little - especially after what he'd said about Spaniards being expensive to bribe. I wanted to know if I could trust him with a handful of coins.

- "I have to trust someone, Miguel. You and the Ramires brothers are the only people in the city that I know. And if I can't trust you three, after last night..."

- "Still..."

- "Tell me this: do I have enough money to buy some clothes? I'd like to return yours - though I do appreciate the loan."

- "It won't buy anything fancy. But let's see what we can get you."

My gold coin, it turned out was worth a considerable sum. It paid for a black doublet, two sets of black hose, three white shirts, and a new belt. The tailor wanted two gold, but Miguel just glared at the fellow as he beat the price down.

"You're sure you want black?" he asked me.

- "I'm no peacock. Besides, plain black will stand out, compared to pink capes and yellow caps."

- "I agree with you there." Miguel favored plain, functional clothing.

He was almost offended, though, when I tipped the tailor with one of my remaining silver pieces. "What are you doing?" he practically shouted.

- "Making sure that he will remember me, and that he will do good work for me. If I come back for more clothing later, he'll be eager to please me."

- "But we agreed on a price!"

- "Call it a bonus."

- "You are literally throwing money away."

- "We have a saying in Courland, Miguel: you have to spend money to make money."

He shook his head. "That makes no sense."

***

Back at San Lazzaro, Pedro seemed to have recovered.

- "How do you feel?" I asked him.

- "Slow." he said. "My thoughts are muddled. But my head doesn't ache so much this evening."

His brother Diego was holding forth nearby, explaining to two of the others how to find a lover. That sounded as if it might be entertaining; I sat down to listen.

- "Once you know where she lives, you must walk about in that part of town daily, so that she can see you. With luck, you may be able to see her. When she leaves her house, you follow her to Church. Wherever she sits, wherever she goes, follow her with your eyes, so that when she looks your way, she will immediately see your eyes upon her."

The two men, Enrique and Carlos, were nodding slowly, committing Diego's 'expert' dating advice to memory.

"When Mass has ended," he continued, "wait inside the doors, so that she must pass by as she leaves. If she has any feelings for you at all, she will give you a sign with her eyes. But you cannot be impatient - it may take some time before she decides to accept you as a lover."

- "And if she does?" asked Enrique. "Where can I meet her?"

- "She will let you know. Trust me."

I had to suppress my urge to laugh. It sounded far too much like stalking, to me. I leaned over to whisper to Miguel.

- "Does he have the slightest idea what he's talking about?"

- "Oh, yes." said the big man. "Diego has a mistress."

- "He does?"

- "Yes. You met her husband this afternoon. The tailor."

***

I spent a few days on guard duty at the Apostolic Palace, and then a few nights. I got to know several more of the Spaniards a little better. That's not to say that we stood around chatting; de Lorqua wanted us to keep our rounds irregular, so that our locations couldn't be predicted.

We shadowed the Italian guards, or did quick tours of the entrances and exits. We paid extra attention to the entrances of the Pope's private chambers, and those of his female family members.

We didn't see any of them, but I did catch a glimpse of the Pope himself. He was a big fellow, built like the bull that was his family's emblem. He had a massive nose, and full lips, but he seemed to be in pretty good health for a man of sixty-one - in that era.

There was a lot of traffic to monitor. Bishops and cardinals came and went at all hours of the day, as did wealthy noblemen hoping to have a member of their family made a bishop or a cardinal. There were workmen, too. The Borgia apartments were being renovated, and painted by a famous artist named Pinturicchio. He had apparently worked on the Sistine Chapel.

In my free time, I sparred with some of the men at San Lazzaro. I'm not sure if I was getting better, or simply keeping sharp, but I began to experiment with fighting two-handed - sword in the right, dagger in the left.

I explored the city a little, staying away from the districts that the Ramires brothers had warned me about. I came across a very large market. There were drapers, second-hand clothing dealers, fishmongers, bakers, fruit and vegetable merchants, stationers, and even bankers with tables covered in green cloth. I saw bales of silk, barrels of grain, leather goods, and tables shaded by awnings.

Behind the stalls in the square were the houses of silk merchants, feather merchants, and the workshops of the candle-makers (which is where the prostitutes often took their clients - don't ask me why. A shortage of hotels?).

Out in the open, there were barbers shearing hair or shaving beards, and servants and housewives clustered around the booths of the purveyors of cooked food. I saw tailors stitching in shaded doorways, beggars with their wooden bowls, and heard the town criers shouting over the pedlars' patter. There were also dogs, pigs, and geese everywhere.

I think it was primarily the smells that got to me. The sun was brighter than I was used to, and Rome was especially hot and humid in August. The sights were so alien, but the unfamiliar aromas and powerful reeks which assaulted my sense hit me hardest. I had to sit down in the shade.

It was culture shock, of course. Knowing that made it only slightly easier to deal with.

I had travelled back in time, so that Captain Teck and his crew could murder Cesare Borgia, and Nika... my partner, my sometimes lover, my friend (I think). They would no doubt do the same to me, given the opportunity.

After pretending to be a bodyguard at WAFOTA, I was now a guard in the Pope's palace. It was a moderately safe place, for now. But if there was strength in numbers, then I needed to make more friends. Some money wouldn't hurt, either. Most of all, though, I needed time, to come to terms with where I was (not to mention when I was), and to make plans.             

I avoided going out drinking with the brothers. I saw no use in throwing away my last silver coins buying rounds. Nor did I go looking for women. I wasn't about to try Diego's strategies for picking up other men's wives. I did come to understand that virgin daughters (and their virtue) were tightly guarded, while married women often had more freedom, depending on who their husband was.

In a way, I was still feeling the loss of Nika. She should have been here with me - however awkward that might have been.

That's not to say that I didn't look. There were some attractive women coming through the Apostolic Palace. I was certainly no fashionista, but I did find their gowns interesting.

For one thing, I saw a number of dresses where the seams had been left unsown - for example, where the sleeve met the body. Instead, the edges would be finished in a decorative way, and then laced together. Sleeves were often slashed, too, allowing the quality of the lady's chemise to show through.

Some women wore a sleeveless outer gown over their dress. Many of these gowns were belted high, just under the bust. Necklines were low, too, though they were square rather than plunging. They didn't cover their hair, either. Blonde hair was considered more desirable, even if the woman had to bleach it.

One evening, I was idly checking out a woman with naturally blonde hair and a rather large bust, which was only emphasized by her gown. Then I happened to glance at her face. I nearly choked on my tongue.

It was Anna. Or Abby. I'd banged her in a parking garage during our ISEC training, then met her again as a member of Captain Teck's squad. She was probably directly involved in Nika's murder.

How had she gotten in here? Was she alone?

I was very, very lucky, that I didn't turn my head completely. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will and Faraz. They were dressed as a couple of noblemen.

I was also very fortunate that Miguel and Diego were on duty with me that night. I turned my back on Will and Faraz, and called my friends over.

- "Don't react." I said. "Keep calm. Take a deep breath. There are two young men behind me. The tall one, in green. And the one in red, built like a bear."

- "I see them." said Diego.

- "They were in the party that robbed us, on the road. They killed my friends, and my servants."

Michelotto bristled. He knew, from my description, that I had been attacked very close by where his friend Cesare Borgia had been ambushed.

"You do not want to challenge them - not without a great deal of support. Even then, you must be extremely careful. They're more dangerous than I am. Diego, go and gather as many of our men as you can find. A dozen, at least."

- "A dozen?"

- "Do as he says." said big Miguel, through clenched teeth.

- "Keep an eye on them, Diego. But don't engage. Miguel - come with me."

- "Where are we going?"

- "Following the woman that was with them."

He had a hundred questions, but Michelotto took me at my word. I liked that he was willing to follow my lead. Keeping my back to Will and Faraz, I forced myself to walk - not run - after Anna.

She was headed for the Pope's private quarters. Not the Borgia apartments, which were being renovated, but his temporary chambers. How did she know exactly where to go?

Anna strutted through the palace as if she belonged there. That meant that she didn't turn around, or check to see who was looking at her. Truth be told, practically every male in the place was watching her. She acted as if she was well accustomed to all of the attention - which she probably was.

There were two Italian guards outside the Pope's chambers. She stopped to talk to them. One was grinning, while the other leered and drooled on himself. Had she bribed them? No, she wouldn't have to. Who knows? Maybe Borgia was expecting her. He was a horny old bastard, after all, who had fathered at least seven illegitimate children.

Just as I feared, the two idiots smiled, and stepped aside to let her through.

- "What now?" said Miguel, softly.

- "I go after her. You help." That was the extent of my brilliant plan.

For some reason - which I still don't fully understand - it worked.

It may be that the two guards were physically intimidated when confronted with two big men over six feet tall. Perhaps Michelotto was the more frightening of the two of us.

- "Why did you let her through?" he growled.

- "We were told to. By His Holiness himself." said one of them.

- "You idiots." I said. "That's not the woman he was expecting. Now I have to go in and make sure that he accepts the substitution."

- "But ... you can't go in there."

- "I'll stay here with you." said Miguel, in a particularly ominous tone of voice.

I didn't wait, but slipped through the door.

The first room was only an antechamber. I could hear a voice from just beyond it.

Rodrigo Borgia was a big fellow - a solidly-built man. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. Anna was a trained killer. I knew that; I'd trained alongside her.

I immediately drew my sword and dagger. The rasp of steel alerted her - she spun on her heel. Her hand went to her hair, and she pulled out a six inch long pin, sharp as a needle.

- "Back away!" I shouted, in Spanish. "She's here to kill you!"

Okay, the Pope had no idea who I was, and I was in the midst of cock-blocking him with a sword. I'd have been upset, if the roles were reversed.

I slid to the side, putting myself between them. But Anna didn't go for the Pope; she presented her long pin, in her left hand, as if it was a weapon. Then she lunged at me.

It was only a feint. I had my sword up, to block, but her real attack was coming from her right hand, with four stiff fingers aimed at my throat.

I ducked my head just in time, so that she jammed her fingers into my chin and snapped my whole upper body back. But she felt it even more when I slammed my dagger into her right side.

We both fell. I went backwards, while she went sideways. Fortunately, she didn't land on top of me; I would have been in serious trouble.

I recovered first. I stabbed her with my sword. Then I rolled, covering her legs with my lower body. She was seriously hampered by her dress and gown.

I drove my dagger into her throat. I held it there, until I felt it grating against her spinal cord.

- "Mother of God!" said Rodrigo Borgia.

I rose to my feet, a little unsteadily. "She's from the future, Holy Father. She came back in time to kill you, just as she killed your son. I had to stop her." Yes, I sounded like a madman. I was babbling. I shut up.

As I stood up, the Pope could see Anna's body, with a big wound in her side, and my dagger stuck in her throat, wedged in under her chin.

- "You're mad." he said.

- "No. Wait." I knew something that might convince him. I'd seen Anna - Abby - nearly naked.

Using the point of my sword, I slit open the middle of her dress. It didn't work particularly well, but I was able to use my hands and tear it open.

- "What are you doing?"

- "Wait! Look."

I tore open Anna's gown and dress, revealing her lower stomach and pubic mound.

"See?"

There they were: two tattoos. A scorpion on one side, just below the panty line, and three stars on the other side. "How many Renaissance women have tattoos like these?" I asked. "How many women have you met who shave their privates?"

The Pope was stunned. His eyes were wide, and I could tell that he was holding his breath.

- "Holy shit." he said. "Who are you?"

It took a moment for me to realize that he hadn't spoken in Spanish. Or in Italian.

He was speaking standard English.

*****

The market that Pilgrim visited was actually based on a description of the Mercato Vecchio (the Old Market) in Florence, by Christopher Hibbert, in "The Rise and Fall of the House of Medici".

Here's your first warning: this story will feature a fairly deep dive into the Renaissance Italian politics that Pilgrim found difficult to follow.