David (18 page)

After another day spent idling in the sun, I was so bored that I took my hooded winter cloak and headed up to San Marco. The
frateschi
were pleased to see me and crowded round to examine my face. It had gone from purple to yellow and I still looked a fright but the swelling was going down. Still, Simonetta gave a little cry when she saw me, which was gratifying.

Her brother and his friends were more interested in what I had heard at Altobiondi’s than in the attack.

‘Pope Alexander sick?’ said Gianbattista. ‘That is good news. With him out of the way, Cesare Borgia’s plans will be held in check.’

‘Not if the cardinal they want – Piccolomini – gets elected,’ I said. ‘He’s another Borgia supporter.’

‘And that’s what the de’ Medici Cardinal will connive for,’ said Daniele. ‘You can be sure he thinks his choice will help get Piero or one of his other relatives back into Florence.’

‘But wait,’ said Fra Paolo. ‘You said you were beaten as a follower of the de’ Medici?’

‘Yes, because I was leaving Altobiondi’s house after spying on the
compagnacci
,’ I said.

‘It’s all right,’ said Gianbattista. ‘I have put word out through the brotherhood that you are one of us. I can promise it won’t happen again.’

‘But this is just what we have been waiting for,’ said Fra Paolo.

I, for one, certainly had not.

‘Now that Gabriele has been attacked as a de’ Medici supporter, the
compagnacci
will accept him as one of them, even though he isn’t of noble birth. We can go back to our plan of infiltrating him into Altobiondi’s house as a conspirator.’

‘I have already planted the idea in Ser Visdomini’s head that I am of their persuasion,’ I said.

Fra Paolo looked at me approvingly for the first time in our association.

‘That’s perfect then,’ he said. ‘You can spy for us from inside the movement. So much better than skulking behind curtains.’

I bit my lip and the pain stopped me from retorting that I had brought them useful information from my hidden alcove.

‘But won’t it be very dangerous?’ said Simonetta. ‘Look at him now. Won’t it be much worse if the
compagnacci
discover he’s a spy? Surely they will kill him?’

The men looked at her as if they had forgotten she was there.

‘You’re right,’ said Daniele. ‘We can’t just assume he is willing to take this role on for us.’

‘Gabriele,’ said Gianbattista, ‘it must be your decision. We won’t think any less of you if you say you are not willing to take up this dangerous burden.’

They were all looking at me. I was a stupid, vain child, I see, looking back now. These men were my friends and I wanted them to like me. I wanted Fra Paolo to approve of me. And most of all I wanted to impress Simonetta; I wanted her to fear for my safety and care about me. I wondered if her brother had told her about my relations with Grazia.

‘I’ll do it,’ I said.

But the moment of backslapping and cheers was rather ruined by the entry of Donato, flushed and excited.

‘Have you heard what’s happened?’ he asked, downing a goblet of wine in almost one gulp. ‘They’ve made Soderini a permanent gonfaloniere.’

‘What?’ asked Gianbattista. ‘A permanent
gonfaloniere
?’

‘
The
permanent
gonfaloniere
,’ said Donato. ‘Ruler of the city for life.’

‘They can’t do that!’ protested his brother Giulio. ‘Florence has always had a new gonfaloniere every two months.’

‘Not since the de’ Medici was driven out,’ said Daniele.

‘But a permanent one! What does that mean?’ asked Giulio.

‘It means that Piero Soderini is ruler for the rest of his life,’ said Daniele. ‘It doesn’t mean he will have a long life.’ He touched the dagger at his belt.

My heart sank; just when I was beginning to understand Florentine politics, here was a republican threatening to kill the head of the Republic.

And I had just volunteered to pretend to be a de’ Medici supporter! It seemed to me that I would have to steer a very careful path to get through the coming months. I would either get caught up in an assassination attempt on the city’s ruler or be unmasked as a
fratesco
spy in the de’ Medici camp.

There was only the slimmest of chances that I would survive unscathed.

But my companions were discussing this development in great detail.

‘It certainly means the end of any chance of de’ Medici rule,’ said Fra Paolo, rubbing his hands.

‘But a permanent gonfaloniere, even if a republican, might be no better that a de’ Medici tyrant,’ said Daniele. ‘Soderini’s not a bad man but power will go to his head – it always does.’

‘Perhaps we should give him a chance?’ said Giulio.

‘Yes, and he has a brother who was a follower of our leader,’ said Donato.

‘But there was another candidate closer to us,’ said Fra Paolo. ‘Giocchino Guasconi was a true Savonarolan.’

‘You knew about this plan?’ asked Gianbattista. He was clearly shocked that Fra Paolo had withheld such a piece of information.

The Dominican shrugged. ‘Our leader himself said he approved of one elected ruler for life – provided he had no sons,’ he said.

‘Does Soderini have any sons?’ I asked.

‘Let us hope not,’ said Daniele.

But whether he meant because they would become claimants to their father’s title or because their lives would now be in danger, I did not then know.

Chapter Twelve

The Mouth of Truth

My bruises faded and my ribs healed and I was soon back at work. I was Mars again in the evenings and Grazia was my Venus, in the studio and elsewhere. Angelo was making the model for his bronze David and the marble one was being a bit neglected. It was so near to completion but he still had most of a year left on his contract to finish it and the bronze commission had been sanctioned by the Operai del Duomo, so there was no problem in working on two Davids at the same time.

And now I had a new role: spy in the Medici camp.

It happened so easily I didn’t have to do anything about it. The first night that I went back to pose for Leone, still with a multi-coloured face but no longer a swollen one, Visdomini made a point of coming to see me.

‘I’m glad to see you looking better,’ he said. ‘Your eyes have not been damaged?’

‘Not at all, my lord. I am quite well, thank you. It will take a while for the discoloration to go but your painter does not need to portray that.’

‘No, indeed. Gabriele, will you come to see me after your supper? I have something I wish to discuss with you.’

So after my modelling session, Grazia led me, not to her own chamber, but to the master’s small office. More wine was brought and he invited me to sit in a comfortable chair. I must have winced a bit as I settled down.

‘You are still in pain?’ he asked, full of concern.

‘Only a little,’ I said. ‘It will pass.’

‘I’m so sorry about what happened,’ he said. ‘But Grazia told me why they did it.’

I kept quiet, drinking my wine.

‘I didn’t know you were a supporter of the de’ Medici,’ he said. ‘You must have guessed that I and my family are of the same opinion?’

I nodded, though I was agreeing only with the second half.

‘Would you like to join us?’ he asked. ‘I mean, be a more active member of the
compagnacci
? We don’t meet regularly, only as needed. Antonello de’ Altobiondi is our leader so when we do gather it is usually at his palazzo, though sometimes here. You may remember that he and our companions came down to see you in Leone’s studio once.’

He was gabbling a bit, as if nervous of what I might say. In all my relations with him, he had never behaved as a lord to his dependent; he always seemed to be asking me for a favour.

‘I do remember, my lord,’ I said. ‘They were very gracious.’

I could feel a pulse beating in my neck; what he was offering was very dangerous but it was what my real friends had been hoping for.

‘I would like to give you some more suitable clothes,’ said Visdomini. ‘I would not want you to feel awkward among the nobles.’

‘But do they not know what I am and what I do?’ I asked. ‘I should not want to deceive them.’

It’s a wonder I didn’t blush, since that was exactly what I was planning to do.

‘Of course,’ said Visdomini. ‘There is no shame in being a working man – especially when, if I may say so, you are such a magnificent example of one, but when you are in their
saloni
, amid men richly dressed, I should not want you to feel uncomfortable.’

He rang the bell and a servant brought in a bundle. I saw the colours purple and green; he wanted me to wear de’ Altobiondi’s livery, to be seen as one of de’ Altobiondi’s men. It made my gorge rise.

‘I took the liberty of hoping you would say yes,’ said Visdomini. ‘Will you try them on?’

I knew he had seen me naked, and I had no need to strip right off to try these clothes on, so I did as he asked.

‘Wonderful!’ he said, walking round me to see me from all sides. ‘At last I see you dressed in a manner that is in keeping with your looks.’

He stroked the purple velvet of the jerkin and patted my arm. It was clear he liked me even better as a Medici man than as a painter’s model.

‘Thank you, my lord,’ I said. ‘I will . . . do my best to merit your good opinion.’

I extricated myself and bade him goodnight.

Gandini the baker kept me up to date with what was going on in the world at large.

‘You’ll never guess what’s happened,’ he said one day in October. ‘Cesare Borgia’s
condottieri
all rose up in rebellion against him!’

I wondered what Gismondo would make of this – the supreme war leader overthrown by ordinary generals.

‘But he had them all thrown into prison and murdered!’ said the baker.

This was bloodcurdling news; the man was even more ruthless than I had guessed. He would kill all his military chiefs to show his strength and the terrible consequences of crossing him.

‘He’s worse than the de’ Medici,’ said the baker, lowering his voice.

Well, at least none of my regular contacts thought I’d be on the side of the city’s old rulers.

At my first meeting with the pro-Medici plotters, I wore my purple and green velvet, which came with a very fancy hat, and I did feel rather self-conscious as I set out. If I were set on and attacked now, it would have been my own fault but I had to trust Gianbattista that all the
frateschi
in the city now knew that I was playing a double game.

It felt very peculiar to pull the bell at the palazzo on Via Tornabuoni and for the first time be admitted as de’ Altobiondi’s guest. On their marriage, Clarice’s household had combined with her husband’s and it was just my luck that, as well as her maid, Vanna, they had retained that sour-faced manservant who clearly remembered me from a year and a half ago. He saw right through my new clothes to the stonecutter beneath and looked pointedly at my hands.

I was relieved to see Visdomini there. He introduced me again to Altobiondi and for the first time to the others.

‘You should have seen him after the beating he got for being one of us,’ said Visdomini. ‘His poor face was just a mass of bruises.’

There were sympathetic murmurs and I saw that I recognised some of the people there. Two of them were plotters I had overheard that night behind the tapestry: Arnolfo Ridolfi and Alessandro Bellatesta. They were older men, who could have known Lorenzo il Magnifico.

I suddenly had an inspiration. ‘How can you be sure you are not being spied on?’ I asked. ‘Do you check the room for listening places? What about that tapestry?’

I strode across the room and pulled the hunting-scene back. With a tiny part of my mind I almost expected to see Gabriele the stonecutter concealed there in his rough working man’s clothes. I did see some old crumbs on the floor from a pastry Clarice had given me to eat but I crushed them to dust under one of the new soft leather boots Visdomini had added to his gift.