WSIM24B Ch. 12

It's also possible that Lucrezia picked up on the much cooler treatment her husband was receiving from her family. I heard the rumours, afterwards - that Juan had threatened to kill Giovanni, or that the Pope himself was planning to assassinate his son-in-law. If that's true, he never spoke of it to me.

Giovanni got away clean. The Pope asked his uncle, Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, to persuade him to accept an annulment. Lucrezia's loving husband answered by accusing her of incest with her father and brother.

The Pope's solution was quite clever: he annulled the marriage on the grounds of non-consummation (officially stating that Giovanni had never had sex with his wife). When he offered to return Lucrezia's dowry, the Sforzas put pressure on Giovanni to accept it.

It was the kind of scandal that all of Italy loved. Tongues wagged, and people eagerly ate up every new detail. Lucrezia had retired to a convent to await the decision - and to avoid public scrutiny. The annulment went though, but it wasn't all finalized until December.

***

- "Fucking Savonarola!" shouted the Pope - in English. "Read that!" He thrust a letter at me.

The Florentine preacher had done it again. It was only the latest in a string of audacious acts. He'd been holding special masses for the young, and then organized what people were calling 'the Bonfire of the Vanities'. His followers gathered to burn objects that could lead to sin: mirrors, cosmetics, fine dresses, musical instruments, pieces of art, secular books and playing cards. They burned the works of Boccaccio, for fuck's sake.

This sort of stupidity had gone on before, but Savonarola made it a regular event. His supporters also roamed the streets, assaulting people (especially women) who wore jewellery or fine clothes.

The Pope was still ticked off that Florence had stayed out of his Holy League - for which he blamed Savonarola. The monk went even further, preaching about a return to simplicity, an emphasis on individual faith, and reliance on Scripture alone.

Alexander wanted to have him killed, or at least excommunicated. I advised him to be more cautious - to wait until the preacher went too far.

Savonarola received letters from Rome, telling him to cool it. He replied with the Compendium of Revelations, a little book that told about all of his visions and his many prophecies that had turned out to be true.

At that point, my boss wanted to strangle him with his own hands. He summoned Savonarola to appear in Rome. The monk was too clever for that; he claimed to be ill, and afraid of being attacked on the way. Alexander banned him from preaching. Savonarola stayed quiet for a few months, and then returned to the pulpit. He was even bolder.

He called the Church a whore.

That was what had incensed the Pope. He pulled the trigger, and excommunicated Savonarola.

***

Juan's missteps, Lucrezia's marriage, and Savonarola were all monopolizing the Pope's attention at one time or another. I gave him the best advice I could; in the months that followed, he began to see me as the voice of reason among his counsellors.

And as dramatic as these events were, I had other things to deal with that were far more engaging for me.

I was taking stock. It was almost five years since I'd arrived in Italy - or the Sim, whichever way I chose to look at it. I was 27 years old, even if I'd only aged a few weeks outside, in the real world. I had lived, and learned, and accumulated five years of experiences. In a few more months I would be marking my fifth anniversary with Gina.

I wanted to do something for her, to show her some appreciation. She didn't care all that much for jewellery, and I'd already bought her a finer dress to wear to church (not too fine, of course, because she didn't want to stand out too much among the other servants).

So I got some help from Rosa the cook, and from Adriana de Mila, the Pope's cousin, who had helped us come together in the first place. Rosa prepared the food (finer fare than Gina was accustomed to, but nothing too exotic), while Adriana persuaded the Pope to let us use one of the small, private rooms in the Papal apartments.

I brought two bottles of wine, and lit the candles.

Gina was stunned. I'd bought her little gifts, and shown her tenderness, but I'd never gone to such lengths to please her. Besides, how many servants are treated to candle-lit dinners in sumptuous private apartments?

She didn't cry, but it was a near-run thing for a few moments.

- "You didn't have to do this." she said, more than once.

The food was almost too rich for her; she tasted, rather than ate. We drank a little too much wine, but it didn't seem to affect either of us overmuch. We retired to our own room, where I surprised her again.

For a long time now, our love-making had been quiet, slow and tender. Never boring, but warm rather than hot. On this occasion, I turned up the heat. I wasn't rough, but urgent, demanding. I pinned her against the wall with my body, and stripped her of her clothing. I kissed her mouth, her neck, and the slopes of her breasts, while my hands were busy squeezing the globes of her ass and stroking her thighs.

I went to my knees in front of her, and sat on my heels, with my face pressed to her pussy. This was not our usual style; I deliberately made it as different for her as I could, and I let my passion for her lead the way.

She was definitely not accustomed to having an orgasm while standing. Gina moaned, and tangled her fingers in my hair. She was surprised again when I moved her to our bed, and put her on her hands and knees.

I didn't even bother removing all of my clothing, something she usually enjoyed doing for me, in leisurely fashion. In short order, I was behind her, pressing my groin against her ass, sliding my thick member along her pussy lips.

Gina groaned. She wasn't used to this kind of treatment, but I could tell that she was turned on by my passion. She put her head down, her long hair hanging down, but she arched her back and lifted her backside.

I entered her from behind, made sure that I was well lodged inside her, and then immediately began thrusting, getting deeper and faster with every lunge. We had made love a thousand times; now I fucked her, thrusting balls-deep, slapping against her ass cheeks as if I was spanking them.

To my delight, she grunted and came again. I gave her another dozen deep thrusts before unleashing a torrent of semen inside her.

It took both of us a few moments to recover. Only then did I turn her around, and help her to lie down. I took her in my arms, and held her close. For a long time, we simply held each other, and breathed.

- "If I were to get a house of my own, Gina... would you come with me?"

- "As your gardener?"

- "Gardener. Mistress. Lover. Whatever you chose. I just don't want to be parted from you. In fact... I like the idea that we could grow old together."

Yes, I knew how to push her buttons. But I was pushing them to make her feel good.

After a time, we began to slowly stroke and caress each other, until our arousal started to build again. We made love quietly, slowly, and tenderly.

***

In taking stock, I also considered my own status. I was still alive, ensconced in the Apostolic Palace as the Pope's bodyguard and close advisor. I had the respect of the Spanish swordsmen, and a pre-eminent position among them. But I knew that I could be so much more.

I had met and recruited Ugo de Moncada, a Spanish soldier of fortune who had spent the past year serving with Papal army. He survived the disaster at Soriano, and then the siege of Ostia. De Moncada was a nobleman from Valencia - where the Borgias hailed from. Yet he had begun his military career fighting for Charles VIII and the French in Naples. In 1496, he fought for Spain, against the French, in Catalonia and Roussillon. Now he was back in Italy.

- "I must learn my craft." he said, when I asked him how he could change sides so frequently.

Ugo was barely twenty-one years old, but he'd seen three major campaigns. I wanted to know everything he'd learned. I mined him like a rich vein of gold. He was earnest, and serious, though he tried hard to project an air of nonchalance. But he loved talking about military matters, and he had an attentive audience in me.

- "The Spanish Jinetes are probably the best light cavalry." he said. The name jinetes came into English as jennets, meaning a smaller riding horse, as opposed to a heavy warhorse. The riders wore leather armour, and carried javelins, a spear, a shield and a sword. They didn't charge straight into formed bodies of troops - instead, they hovered, harassed, and waited for a break to launch a charge against an exposed flank, or against troops who were turning to flee.

- "What about the Venetian Estradiots?" I asked. "We heard a great deal about them, especially at Fornovo."

- "They are much the same. More frightening, but less disciplined. They are clothed like Turks. Many wear turbans, or cloth wrapped around the head. Very tough men, barefoot and heavily bearded. They come from Greece, Romania, Durazzo... they carry only a targe and a demi-lance." A targe was a small shield.

- "Easier to find horses for them than for heavy cavalry." I said.

- "Exactly. Did you know that Isabella of Spain ordered that no one, except priests, should ride mules? Horses of fifteen hands, at the very least..."

We talked about infantry, as well. De Moncada shared the general opinion that Swiss pikemen were the very best, but he felt that Italy had several types of decent foot soldiers.

"Spearmen, pikemen, crossbowmen, archers, pavoisiers, rotularii..."

I knew that pavoisiers manhandled the heavy shields used to protect archers. Rotularii were swordsmen who carried small round shields. Something about them stuck in my mind; had I learned about them at AFOTA?

I asked De Moncada why Italian troops had performed so poorly against the French - and each other.

- "Why should they care? They fight for pay - which they have to be alive to collect. They don't understand the dynastic ambitions of Kings and Dukes, or even the machinations of republics. And why should they? These wars only directly involve a small number of the people, even if they go on to affect many more."

I liked Ugo de Moncada, and wanted to keep him in the Pope's service. The Pope was willing to spend on Alberini's intelligence network, which had already produced a few small gems; he advanced me some money to keep De Moncada on retainer.

With some input from Ugo, I began writing down my ideas.

***

Elena deserved an anniversary celebration of her own. Unlike Gina, she appreciated jewellery and fine clothes. She prepared a meal, and I brought the wine, along with my gifts. She was delighted. The rest of the evening (and early hours of the morning) were spent in a sort of contest between us, as we each tried to show our appreciation for the other.

Meanwhile, the Pope made another important move, again without consulting me. He invested Juan Gandia with the Duchy of Benevento. This angered just about everybody. Benevento was an integral part of the Papal States, but Alexander had just alienated the lands by granting them to Gandia and his heirs. Future Popes would not be able to enjoy their revenues or resources. There was widespread resentment.

- "I suppose you disapprove, too?" he said to me, with a bit of a snarl.

- "You knew I would. That's why you didn't tell me beforehand. It was a mistake - as I'm sure you're beginning to find out."

- "What's that supposed to mean?"

- "Too many honours, too soon. Too few deeds on his part to earn them. Juan's arrogant; he already has too many enemies. And now you've alienated Church lands. Now all of your enemies will focus their anger against him."             

It was a little too prophetic on my part.

Exactly one week later, Juan failed to come home after a night out. The Pope's former mistress, Vannozza, had organized a feast for her children. Lucrezia and Joffre were there, with Sancia, Juan, and Cardinal Borgia (the Pope's great-nephew). After the party, Juan and the Cardinal rode back to the Apostolic Palace. Then Juan dismissed his retainers, saying he was going to visit his mistress. He took only his valet and a second man (who wore a mask).

Juan didn't come back. He had dismissed his valet, and gone on alone with the masked man. It wasn't until the following night when the Pope began to worry. He ordered a search, and the interrogation of Juan's servants. Interrogation, in that era, was a euphemism for torture.

The search caused fear across Rome. Merchants closed their shops; citizens locked and barricaded their doors. The Orsinis and the Colonnas fortified their palaces. The streets were full of angry Spaniards with drawn swords.

Finally, on the 16th - two days after Juan's disappearance - a witness was found. Giorgio Schiavi was a timber dealer who unloaded his wood near one of the conduits for discharging refuse into the Tiber. He was in the habit of keeping watch at night, to prevent his timber being stolen.

Schiavi had seen men bring a corpse, loaded on a white horse, and then throw the body into the river. When asked why he hadn't reported it, the man answered "In the course of my life I have seen more than a hundred bodies thrown into the river right at this spot, and never heard of anyone troubling himself about them".

Boatmen and fishermen were called in to search for the body. They found another man, first, and then Juan. He'd been stabbed nine times, and his purse was still attached to his belt, with 30 ducats in it.

The Pope shut himself up in his rooms, and refused to eat or drink anything for days. When he finally emerged, to meet the Cardinals and ambassadors, he still seemed grief-stricken.

There were many suspects. The Orsinis held a grudge for Juan's campaign against them, and also because Virginio Orsini had died in a Papal dungeon. Some suspected Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, because there had been a skirmish between men of his household and Gandia's, wherein several Spaniards were killed. In revenge, Juan had arrested some of Ascanio's grooms and had them hanged.

Giovanni Sforza, Lucrezia's husband, was a suspect, too, because men 'remembered' hearing Juan threatening him. Even Joffre was under suspicion, out of jealousy for the supposed affair between his brother and his wife.

Juan had been thinking with his dick, of course, convinced that he was being led to a secret assignation with the daughter of a Roman nobleman. But who had betrayed him?

The Orsinis were the consensus choice. Oddly enough, though, the Pope called off his investigations only a week after the murder. That act led everyone to believe that that meant he knew who the guilty party or parties were. The Orsinis braced for retaliation. Nothing happened.

In case you're thinking that I did it, forget it. That's not to say that I was sad about his death. I've made no secret of the fact that I disliked the little asshole, or that I thought he was a liability.

But I didn't have four or five men willing to kill him and dump his body in the Tiber. My best friends - Miguel, and the Ramires brothers - would never have struck a blow against the Pope's son on my behalf. And I wasn't stupid enough to hire a group of thugs to do it. Besides, if I had tried to lure Juan into a trap, he wouldn't have believed me for a second.

That's why it was vaguely funny that I was later included in the list of suspects, because in a way, I stepped into his empty shoes.

***

King Federigo of Naples was crowned. Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere made his peace with the Pope. As a sign of reconciliation, the Cardinal had his castle at Ostia restored to him; just to be on the safe side, though, della Rovere continued to live at Avignon, in France.

I celebrated a belated anniversary with Sancia. It was hard to believe that we'd been lovers for a year. There was no gift I could buy her that she didn't already have, but I brought her flowers from the garden, and then ate her into submission. After three orgasms, she begged for mercy, but I put her on her hands and knees and took her from behind.

Then I went on a summer tour of the Papal states. There were many, many places that I wanted to see firsthand. The Pope agreed, thinking that I was meeting with members of Alberini's growing network. But I took Ugo de Moncada and the Ramires brothers with me, because I was also carrying out a military reconnaissance. We were gone for two and a half months.

Lucrezia's divorce finally came through. Giovanni Sforza, whose first wife had died in childbirth, angrily refused the accusation of impotence, and claimed that the Pope was sleeping with his daughter. But pressure from his uncles (Ludovico and Ascanio), plus the return of Lucrezia's dowry (31,000 ducats) finally convinced him to sign. People in Rome had a good laugh over the whole juicy scandal.

I waited until December, when the decree became final, before I made my presentation to the Pope. The Admiral. My boss.

- "Cesare and Juan are gone. Joffre is too young - and let's face it, he may never be up to the job. But you need a right-hand man. A Gonfalonier. A commander for the Papal forces, who can build you an army, and lead it. Someone you can trust, but also rely on."

- "I suppose you have someone in mind?"

- "I do." I said. "Me."

***

- "Make your case." said Admiral D'Onofrio. The Pope. My boss.

I was appealing to all three.

- "I can't turn mercenaries into Napoleon's Grande Armee. But we can make a start, beginning with raising and training your own troops in Romagna and Marche. There are good fighting men there. Unfortunately, they're ruled by a pack of thieves and pirates who prey on their own people. The Baglionis, in Perugia. Malatesta, in Rimini. The Riarios. Caterina Sforza. All Papal vassals - and not a single one of them can be relied on."

- "You think I should attack my own vassals?"

- "You should retake lands that belong to the Papal States. First off, in terms of your game, you have a casus belli: a rightful claim. Then imagine that you ruled those lands directly once again. You could raise forces large enough to counter the Orsinis and the Colonnas."

- "And eventually crush them?"

- "Yes."

- "How? Where would you start?"

- "We've already started. Thanks to Alberini, we're building an intelligence network. That could be a major advantage. Then we need an army - a better army than you had at Soriano. We'll have to use mercenaries, to start, but I'll be raising your own men as soon as I can, and then wherever and whenever I can. We'll make service in the Papal army attractive: decent pay, and regular supplies. We'll have to pay special attention to logistics."

I never forgot some of my lessons at AFOTA. Napoleon might have said 'An army marches on its stomach', but logistics were one of his major weaknesses. Frederick the Great said 'It is not I who commands the army, but flour and forage are the masters'.

I talked about supply wagons, cantinieres, and quartermasters. The Admiral understood; he was a military man himself.

- "Sounds expensive, though."

- "It will be. But you have money."

- "The Church's money."

- "To recover Church lands. To increase future revenue."

He grumbled at that. "Go on."

- "Establish a cannon foundry. Standardize. Make three or four types of cannon, tops. Light, medium, and heavy guns. Standardize the gun carriages, as the French do. That'll make us more mobile. If we can move, we can threaten an enemy's supply lines even as we protect our own. Marshal Saxe said that it was possible - even reasonable - for a general to be successful without ever fighting a battle."