Chiara – Revenge and Triumph (41 page)

* * * 

As agreed, Orlando and Jacomo, the latter on a hired horse, arrived in Siena on the Thursday before the appointed day when Casa Sanguanero was scheduled to honor their pledge.

All three of them would ride back to Florence together. Not that she did not trust Orlando, but ten thousand florins were a staggering sum and could even tempt an honest man. But there was always the real danger of being ambushed by robbers. Her frequent trips between these two cities could well have attracted unwanted attention, and Jacomo’s skill with bow and arrow, as well as his rapidly developing mastery with knives, would offer welcome added security.

Saturday morning, Orlando took possession of a letter of credit of ten thousand florins on the merchant banking house Tolomei of Siena. She could feel the tremor in her hands as he gave her the unrolled scroll with a grave face. She could hardly believe that they had succeeded and had to reread the document twice to make sure that everything was in order, that it was not a forgery.

Early afternoon they took the road to Florence. Chiara, in her clerical disguise, met up with the two men on the road to Castellina just beyond the hamlet of San Dalmazio, a league north of Siena. She and Orlando alternated changing horses, but their progress was slowed by Jacomo’s mount. After sixteen hours of on the road, regular rests, snacking on bread and dried sausages, and twice feeding grain to the horses, dawn offered the first glimpses of Florence. The rising sun greeted them as they passed the guards who were just opening Porta Romana.

Chiara dragged herself up to her room, letting Veronica undress her. She was asleep before the girl had covered her with a soft blanket.

17

End of September 1349

Since leaving Elba, I had learned a few of life’s truths. First, no more was I expecting God or the saints to fulfil my wishes or save me from disaster. Only my own efforts or chance would. That is why God gave us intelligence. Hence my need to stay in control and create my own luck. Second, all humans have weaknesses and succumb to temptations, and to my shame I must admit that I often used their failings to my own advantage. This was my weakness, the temptation that I succumbed to all too often. And third, life is full of coincidences, some good, some bad.

I was going to learn a fourth lesson shortly, that it is in the nature of coincidences that there is no way to plan for them since one cannot predict them. Therefore, even the best laid plans may come to nought.

Now that I had the money, at least on paper, I suddenly was at a loss of how to proceed. I knew that it was important to secure it without delay, transform it into different forms so that it could not be traced anymore. The Siena banking house could always cancel the letter of credit as long as it had not been cashed, and if Casa Sanguanero received any suspicious reports, they would immediately ask for that.

Months ago, when I had hatched my plans, I had always seen myself carrying away a heavy case, with twenty thousand gold coins in it. And later, when I realized that the payment would be in the form of a letter of credit, I had thought to present it to a banking house in Florence in exchange for a few thousand coins and several letters of credit for smaller amounts issued on different banking houses in other cities, less the usual commission for such transactions.

 Would that still work? I Magnifici had performed to most of the leading merchant and banking houses in Florence. Both I and Orlando, as the lead actors of our serious plays, had become well known. We had mingled with the hosts, particularly in their summer retreats. I did not want to run the risk that at that crucial stage things started falling apart by either Orlando or I being recognized and denounced. My nerves started to fray. I had a sleepless night and then, like the slowly growing flame of a newly lit candle, the solution to my problem revealed itself. Why not make one of these banking houses my accomplice and I even knew which one — Casa Medici, whose head, Averardo di Bicci had taken a fancy to me.

There were a few other loose ends to be tied down. I had not discovered a way to retrieve the little book of Latin poems from the cabinet in Niccolo’s office. And if I wanted to get back my land on Elba and keep it — I now always thought of it as my land again — I had to deprive Casa Sanguanero of the only irrefutable proof that my father had signed the deed from his own free will, namely their notary’s records of the document. It would then be their word against mine that they forged it.

With our money safe and hidden behind the secrecy of the Medici banking house, I returned to Siena for the last time. The purpose was rather ironic — to celebrate my betrothal to Niccolo. I had not counted on the woman I had come to view as my friend and secret protector, Lady Maria d’Appiano, to be invited too.

* * * 

Veronica roused her early afternoon to get ready for a knife-throwing display and a few skits to the girls of an orphanage that Alda had offered them as a free treat a while ago and had been unwilling to cancel. For the first time ever, Chiara’s grasp on a knife slipped and when she hurled it back to Pepe its arc was too short. Years later they still occasionally reminisced on this mishap and marveled at Pepe’s instant reaction. As the knife flew toward his feet, he jumped, and it embedded itself in the dirt, but neither he nor Chiara missed the rhythm, and the other knives continued on their course. Chiara had already substituted another knife into the gap. The children applauded wildly.

On their way back to their house, Alda chided her. "You’re ruining yourself with your constant back and fro, and you’re putting my husband at risk."

Pepe immediately came to her defense. "Oh, nothing happened and it’s just a good reminder not to become complacent."

Chiara did not respond. She was close to tears. The incident had shaken her more than she thought.

"Oh, look, Alda. You’re making her cry."

He came next to Chiara and hugged her shoulder. "It’s all right, Chiara. Just don’t ask me to make this a regular part of our act."

She smiled at him through wet eyes. "Thank you, Pepe, I promise I won’t. It was too scary… And Alda, it’s almost over."

"Good, I look forward to having you back, back to a normal life."

Orlando laughed. "How can you think that life in a traveling troupe is normal? The men and women behind those shuttered windows," his left hand made a sweeping half circle, "they lead a normal life, and I bet that isn’t your desire or else you wouldn’t be with us."

"Oh, shut up, Orlando, even if you’re right. You know what I meant. I love Chiara and I worry about her scheming."

"I love you too,
mamina
," Chiara murmured, fighting renewed tears.

* * * 

That night Chiara tossed and turned on her mattress. Time and again she saw the knife veering off course. She could not shake off that image. Was Alda right? Was she overreaching herself? If not physically, then maybe emotionally? And which of the merchant banking houses should Orlando, alias da Quaranta, approach to convert a good portion of the letter of credit into coins and the rest into letters of credit of smaller amounts, more easily disposable? The Lamartini banking house in Naples or the Tolomei branch in that city would be the expected choices, but that was impossible. They would be unmasked as frauds right away. They could go to the Pisa branch of Lamartini, but she was loath to travel there. It was a solution of last resort.

Would the Tolomei branch in Florence be another plausible possibility? But wouldn’t Amadeo Tolomei, its head, recognize both her and Orlando? They had talked with him at length after their performance of
Electra
. He had struck her then as a thoughtful, educated man. The risk was too great. She should have thought of that two months ago before she accepted his invitation. Go to another banking house? Only two or three of the smaller ones had not invited I Magnifici. And wouldn’t they wonder why they were chosen and become suspicious?

All her well thought-out plans suddenly showed up full of holes. What had looked to be the simplest and most straightforward part of her scheme had turned into a thorny obstacle. Would this be her demise? Was Pisa the only reasonable solution? The round trip would take at least a week. They would have to cancel a scheduled performance, unless she postponed the trip by a week, and that had its own dangers. She felt that there was great urgency to use the credit, to make the funds safe from both Casa Sanguanero and the Tolomei banking house, to scatter them irretrievably, so to speak. Only then was this victory complete and hers. She also needed to go back to Siena. There were still a few loose ends to be tied, and she should visit with Lucia again.

"Chiara." It was barely a whisper.

"Yes, Veronica."

"May I lie down next to you?"

"Can’t you sleep? Am I keeping you awake?"

"I don’t know. May I come?"

"Yes, my little sister."

She held the blanket open and Veronica slipped in, snuggling up to her. Chiara folded an arm over her.

"Are you still upset about what happened with Pepe?"

"Yes, it was inexcusable."

"Don’t be so hard on yourself. Nothing happened, and it was amazing how fast both of you recovered. It looked as if it were part of the display. You’re so skillful."

"But it wasn’t. I could have hurt Pepe. But I will never let it happen again."

"You’re always so strong. I wish I were like you."

"Veronica, don’t become like me. Sometimes I’m afraid of what I’ve become."

"But you’re always so kind to all of us… I love you very much."

Chiara hugged her closer. "I love you too, and I’m glad you and Jacomo are with us."

Veronica remained quiet for a while. "I think that Jacomo is in love with you… I mean not like a brother would love you, but like a man."

"I know, Veronica. I’ve talked to him about it."

She was again silent.

"I think you want to ask me something else, don’t you."

"Have you ever been in love with a man? … Oh, please don’t be angry that I asked."

"It’s all right … Yes, I think so."

"Is it Orlando?"

"No, it’s not somebody you’ve ever seen. Even I’ve only seen him three times."

"Please Chiara, tell me about him."

"What would you like to know?"

"What does he look like?"

"He’s tall, as tall as Pepe. Strong, hair the color of ripe corn, eyes a deep blue like the sea."

"I’ve never seen the sea."

"Like a very blue sky. When he smiles, it’s like the sun is breaking through clouds. He has a full, deep voice."

"Oh, I would love to see him… Does he love you too?"

"Veronica, I don’t know. I don’t think so. We only exchanged two words each, the first time we met. It was on the Santa Caterina."

"The ship where you were …"

"Yes, the ship on which I was violated, and I’ve only seen him twice more in Siena, in Casa Sanguanero."

"But he is not one of them, is he?"

"No, he is one of their slaves."

"Oh, …"

"Does that shock you? Shock you that a woman of noble birth could love a slave? … Love is a strange thing. It knows no barriers, doesn’t recognize status, wealth, age, origin. It just happens and there’s little you can do about it. I guess, if it’s not nurtured, it will die sooner or later, but it may take a long time. That’s what will happen to my love for the sailor."

"Oh, Chiara, don’t say that. It’s so sad."

"I’ll get over it. Let’s now try to go to sleep."

"May I stay with you?"

"Yes."

Veronica snuggled closer. Chiara kept her eyes open. She conjured up the rugged face of her sailor as he responded to her smile, and stayed with that image. A warm feeling grew in her heart, and she held on to it.

After a while, she noticed Veronica’s regular breathing, telling her that the girl was asleep. She turned onto her back, staring into the black night. She still did not know what to do about the letter of credit. It would be so simple if she had an accomplice who would take over and deal with that aspect. Best
of all, a banking house. They would have the know-how and the means. But I don’t have such an accomplice … or do I?
What started out as idle, wishful thinking, as an outrageous idea, slowly blossomed into a real possibility.
Averardo di Bicci of Casa Medici
. The corner of her mouth turned up in a broad smile. He had been rather taken with her. She had no doubt that he was a ladies’ man and felt no qualms using that to her advantage. She also suspected that he had a grudge against Casa Sanguanero. His comments about them had been rather scathing. Would he do it for her? He might though want more than just a sizeable cut. She was not willing to offer him sexual favors. Would she be able to handle him? She put this aside for the moment, simply dwelling on that glimmer of hope that she would be able to twist his arm. She would ponder about the whole thing tomorrow and consider all facets, all eventualities and her best responses to them. Sleep found her quickly and carried her away.

* * * 

Chiara woke up refreshed and carefully stepped over the sleeping girl, curled up at the edge of the mattress. She was tempted to stroke her relaxed, peaceful face, but resisted. Nobody else was up yet. So she stripped in the crisp dawn air at the fountain in the garden and washed herself from head to toe, rinsing off the soap with two buckets of water. Her skin had goose bumps all over and the nipples of her breasts had contracted painfully. After drying herself superficially, she slipped into a loose tunic. Then, she picked a sage leave from Alda’s herb garden and rubbed her teeth vigorously to freshen her breath. Alda was just stoking the fire to heat water when she entered the kitchen.

"That obsession of washing yourself with cold water will be the death of you," she said, but her eyes were smiling.