Chiara – Revenge and Triumph (38 page)

I did not want to hurt her, but how could I spare her when I planned the destruction of Casa Sanguanero, or at least its titular head, Massimo Sanguanero, and its de facto head, Niccolo.

In fact, I think that she was even keener than Niccolo about the marriage that could never be, although I was certain that Niccolo was smitten, not only by the prospect of a huge dowry, but also by me. He only revealed his most pleasant side and showered me with flattering attention. What a change to the dismissive treatment of me two and a half years earlier.

Why was life like an old Roman road, trying to stick to the tops, but full of ups and down, ever taking unexpected turns, with muddy holes where weary travelers could get bogged down, roads with uneven paving stones to trip over? Maybe if I had known all the heartache and sorrow that I would sow before that ill-fated attempt to escape by boat, I would have consented to be his wife and might have discovered things about it that I could have liked. But then I also might never have become the woman that I am now. I might have remained a bright and naive child, destined to go to her death before her time.

I had no choice. If I wanted to take my revenge and regain my inheritance, I would have to leave some people hurt in the ditch by the roadside. And saying that, I despaired at the callousness that was now part of me.

Three weeks after setting the bait, the marriage contract was signed, and Casa Sanguanero promised to put up twenty thousand florins toward a joint venture to break into the lucrative spice trade. I even discovered the whereabout of the little book of Latin poems.

During all this time I managed to be seen as living in two places fifteen leagues apart. In Siena I played Lady Lucrezia, in Florence I was Chiara da Narni, the corago and lead actress of I Magnifici who once or twice each week continued regaling noble and merchant houses with commedia erudita. And how did I manage this? I emulated the Roman courier services by having my own relay of horses.

* * * 

Chiara was back in Siena on the following Monday, after a pleasant, almost leisurely eight-hour ride through a magical, moonlit landscape. She changed horses without even waking the farmers. They had been warned that this might happen. She entered the Camollia gate as it opened, left the horse in the stables at the end of Via delle Cerchia, changed from priest to society lady in the little house of that street and welcomed the servant woman and her husband in Casato di sopra as the bell of the nearby church tower struck seven times.

Later that morning, she sent a message to Lucia, asking whether she could see her in the afternoon, to learn more about Casa Sanguanero which, God willing, would soon become her own home. Her true aim was to get to know the inside of the mansion and discover where Niccolo kept her little book of poems, or at least that was what she told herself. The servant returned with the answer that Lady Lucia would be delighted to receive her that afternoon.

Walking up Banchi di sopra, she saw Gaetano Salimbeni come down with one of his fellow students. It was his swanky stride that drew her attention. He had recognized her as the priest at the performance in Casa Salimbeni. He might recognize her again. She did not want to run that risk and quickly turned to enter the bookshop she had just passed. Browsing through the shelves, she discovered a copy of
Amphitruo
, a play of Plautus, rewritten by an anonymous writer in the second century AD, over three hundred years after Plautus had died. She could not resist buying it and then resumed her way to Camollia.

As she wanted to pass through the portal of the Sanguanero mansion, two men came pushing out, carrying a bulky object. The one in front cried "Make way, make way!", intent on forcing his passage. In the shade of the portal recess, it took her a moment to recognize Moro, the sailor who had captured her in Pisa. Under other circumstances, she would have let them pass, but she was not going to budge for Moro.

"Make way," he repeated.

"Sailor, how do you dare to talk to me like this? You make way for me."

Only then did he turn around and quickly lowered his gaze, mumbling: "Please, forgive me, my Lady." He moved aside to let her pass, casting a quick look of hatred at her. Later she could not recall whether it was shock or pleasure when she recognized the other man as her sailor. He had a gleeful smile on his face, no doubt enjoying Moro being chastised. She locked eyes with him, not able to suppress a smile of happiness. A fleeting cloud passed over his eyes, and then he responded in kind. She had butterflies in her stomach, wanting to linger, forcing herself to enter the ground floor hall.

While on the previous two visits, Lucia had entertained her in the library, this time she took her to her own rooms, under the roof, one floor above Niccolo’s and her father’s apartments. The young woman seemed all excited, telling Chiara that the notary was drawing up a draft of the marriage contract, and passing on family gossip. Several times, Chiara caught her mind drifting back to the brief encounter with her sailor. Had he recognized her too, but who, the girl on the Santa Caterina or the young priest watching in the street?

"I noticed two sailors as I entered. Does that mean that one of your ships is in Porto Pisano?" she asked.

"Ah, it must have been Moro, the first mate of the Santa Caterina. He has been with us as long as I can remember, and he is very devoted to my father. They were getting ready to sail to Marseille before you came to Siena, but Niccolo postponed the trip because of you."

"Should I take this as a compliment or as a reproach? In either case, I feel awful to be the cause of what surely must be an inconvenience."

"Oh, don’t reproach yourself of anything. Niccolo would be stupid to make you wait five or six weeks until he is back. I have never seen him that serious about a woman." Lucia paused briefly, and then added with a chuckle: "And you might change your mind and find another match. I have heard that at least two other families have voiced strong interest."

"Such a thought would never enter my mind," Chiara replied, winking.

She could not resist asking about her sailor. "I can understand the first mate being in Siena, but why would another sailor come all that way?"

"That’s true. Usually only muleteers bring the goods from Porto Pisano. The other sailor you saw — is he blonde?"

Chiara nodded.

"He is being trained by Moro, I think to become first mate of our other ship."

Chiara waited a moment, but when Lucia did not continue, she said: "I have never seen such golden hair."

"Yes, my father bought him some four or five years ago, the only time he went to Constantinople. He was gone for almost a whole year."

So he is a slave, as I suspected. He must be smart or they would not bother training him.

That same evening a message from Casa Salvani arrived, asking for the procurator of Casa Alberti to urgently contact them in view of pursuing negotiations.

* * * 

Orlando made it back to Siena by Wednesday afternoon. He paid a visit to Casa Sanguanero after a short rest and brought back a copy of the marriage contract the notary had drafted. They studied it line by line. It followed the stipulation of the letter in the name of Arringhi da Catenaia in most respects, but was trying to fully exploit the commercial variations Orlando had intimated he was empowered to make. Casa Sanguanero would have the right to dispose of all goods and get a twenty-five percent commission on the Alberti half. This reduced the size of Lady Lucrezia’s dowry by the same percentage. Six thousand florins would be made available upon signing the contract, the balance of fourteen thousand in goods within three months. The marriage would take place one month after the return of the two galleys to Porto Pisano.

"Obviously, I have no objection to the proposed date of marriage, since it will never take place anyway, nor to the commission. But as I said last week, I want at least half the funds handed over upon signing and the goods ready for loading at Porto Pisano within not much longer than a month."

"What if they don’t want to budge? What then?"

"You may have to say that there are two other families interested, one of them a merchant banker, who obviously would advance the entire sum in the form of funds, not merchandise. We have the request from Casa Salvani, and I know Niccolo is aware of it, since Lucia said as much, but you may have to play it by ear. I trust you."

"I’ll stress that Casa Alberti has already purchased the right goods for eighteen thousand and that fifty percent is the lowest amount deemed a measure of confidence —"

"— and that any delay in having their own goods ready could mean the whole trip might have to be delayed until next year, something Casa Alberti is not even willing to contemplate."

"Yes. It may also be a good strategy to try to reduce the commission to twenty percent, as another bargaining ploy, and then give in to their figure of twenty-five percent. That will make them feel they have won a victory."

Chiara gave him a conspiratorial smile. "Yes, I think I chose the right man to look after my interests… I’m also confident that if they fear that we’re serious about negotiating with other prospective families, they’ll accept our compromise. From what Lucia tells me, Niccolo is very keen. She thinks that this is the first time he is serious about a woman."

"Chiara, you’re attractive, not only in looks, but also what, in the long run is more valuable, in intellect. If I were a marrying man, I would woo you."

"Thank you, Orlando," she replied with a laugh.

Orlando had another meeting with Niccolo and his notary the following day. It lasted more than two hours. In the end Casa Sanguanero agreed to their terms, except that the advance of fifty percent would be made two weeks after signing the contract.

"I had to give in to that. They said it would take them that long to arrange the necessary credit. Ten thousand florins are a large sum."

"I think you did right. It also suggests that their financial position isn’t as strong as they pretend, which is exactly what I hoped… And when will the signing ceremony happen?"

"This Saturday in their offices at three o’clock in the afternoon."

"I shall accompany you," Chiara declared, adding with a wink: "And here is the seal of Casa Alberti. You may want to practice a bit so that it will look like you have done it hundreds of times." She handed him the first seal Ser Stachos had made for her.

* * * 

The office of Casa Sanguanero was located to the right of the entrance. Trailing behind Orlando, Chiara scanned the people working or standing around, but her sailor was not among them.

The ground floor room they entered had no windows, as was the custom for most mansions of merchants and nobles — a precaution against raids or incendiary attacks by rival houses, far too common when private justice took precedence over public justice. Two oil lamps were burning on a table and another on the wall next to the entrance. Lockable storage cabinets lined both side walls, two on the wall to the right open and full of tall books and ledgers.

Niccolo’s face betrayed his surprise upon seeing her, but then it changed into a pleased smile. "Ah, Lady Lucrezia, Messer da Quaranta, good afternoon. What a privilege to have you attend this meeting, Signorina."

"Signor Sanguanero, how could I deprive myself of the pleasure of witnessing such an important ceremony that will shape my future."

"I’m pleased that you see it this way —"

The notary cleared his throat loudly, interrupting their exchange. Niccolo frowned briefly and then caught on. "Lady Lucrezia, let me introduce Messer Faranese, the trusted notary of Casa Sanguanero. Messer Faranese, this is Lady Lucrezia who, God willing, will be my wife within the year."

She responded to the notary’s deep bow. Although she had seen him before at some distance, from close up he looked much older, she guessed in his late sixties.

"Esteemed Signorina," he began with an unnaturally high nasal pitch, while his unfocussed, watery eyes looked passed her, "since you are not familiar with legal proceedings, I have to tell you that before placing our signatures on the document, I will read it out in its full length."

"I shall be seated on this chair and be your most attentive listener, Messer Faranese." Niccolo rushed to offer her the chair she had pointed to.

"I shall appreciate this, Signorina." His tone of voice and the look he gave her betrayed that he had his doubts, but would hold her to it. "If it is agreeable to the two gentlemen, I will not delay our proceedings any longer."

Niccolo nodded, and Orlando answered "Please do." Each took one of the remaining two chairs in front of the table. With studied dignity, the notary went behind it, sat with a slight groan, retrieved a pair of eyeglasses from a pocket of his coat, placed them on the tip of his nose, and opened one of the three roles of parchment lying on the table. He held it closer to the oil lamp, and, after a brief glance at both Niccolo and Orlando, began to read in a monotonous voice. While looking casually to the two open book shelves on his right, as if to show a complete lack of interest, Chiara listened carefully to the convoluted Latin, comparing and checking points with her mental list. She had to admit that he enunciated the Latin beautifully without ever stumbling, his years of practice showing.

Suddenly, a small book in the shadow of several big ledgers in the open cabinet caught her eye.
My little book of poems!
There was no mistaking. It was sitting there on the shelf, seemingly forgotten. Her heart beat faster, and for a moment she stopped listening to the droning of the notary, before she caught herself.

"Messer Faranese, would you please read that last sentence again," she interrupted him in perfect Latin.

He looked up startled, blinking several times, and then reread the sentence again, pausing a moment and looking at her questioningly. She nodded, and he resumed his reading.