David (31 page)

Next morning I left him sleeping, told the housekeeper not to disturb him and ran back to the city’s centre. The statue had progressed as far as one block along the Via del Proconsolo but that was more than I had expected. The wooden crate was now surrounded by armed guards. There was no sign of the pullers, but Antonio and Giuliano were sitting on the winches eating what looked like a breakfast of Gandini’s finest pastries, while David glared off into the distance.

‘How is he?’ asked Antonio, quickly finishing his mouthful and brushing crumbs from his jerkin.

‘Asleep,’ I said. ‘What happened after we left?’

‘It was a long time before we could get moving again,’ said Giuliano. ‘But the men worked well, till after dawn. We sent them home for a few hours’ sleep and the promise of a bonus for risking injury.’

‘Who set the guard?’ I asked.

‘We told the Operai they had to, or there was a risk of the Master’s work being destroyed,’ said Antonio.

‘And you’ve both been here all night? You must be exhausted.’

‘You don’t look very fresh yourself,’ said Giuliano. ‘Go to the baker’s and get yourself some breakfast. Then you can take over from us while we have a few hours’ rest.’

I didn’t need much urging. Gandini’s was full of people and gossip, as it always was in the early morning. And today there was only one topic.

‘They’ve arrested three of the vandals,’ said Gandini, who was a staunch republican.

‘Who?’ I asked, but the answer surprised me.

‘Vincenzo di Cosimo Martelli,’ said the baker, counting off on his fingers. ‘Filippo di Francesco de’ Spini and Gherardo Maffei de’ Gherardini.’

Monna Lisa’s cousin and two of his friends!

‘They would have flung Raffaello Panciatichi in the Stinche too,’ someone added, ‘but he escaped by climbing a water-pipe and running away across the rooftops.’

Raffaello was another of Gherardo’s close friends so I easily believed it. These were the younger members of the Altobiondi set, who had only recently joined the
compagnacci
, but they were all from families with a long record of support for the de’ Medici.

But was this just something they had cooked up together as no more than a prank? Or was it the first skirmish in a war against the marble Giant?

‘And even the three who are in the Stinche will be out soon,’ said Gandini. I had walked within feet of the prison on my way from Lodovico’s house to the cathedral. ‘Their fathers will pay their fines – that sort never serve much time behind bars.’

Gandini was right: a few hours to cool their heads and the young conspirators would be free again.

‘Was anyone hurt?’ asked one of the customers.

‘Not seriously,’ said the baker. ‘There will be a few sore heads this morning, though, and the odd black eye.’

Thank goodness no one knew about the injury done to my brother.

I was soon back with the marble giant and relieved to see that the pullers were back from their break and were laying the greased planks in front of the cage again. It was a huge responsibility overseeing their labours, but the men knew me and were willing to let me direct them.

We worked all day and were nearly at the Bargello when we stopped. I set the guards to watch and let the pullers go home for a good night’s sleep. The day had passed without incident but I had been anxious the whole time, wondering if there would be another attack.

By the time I got back to Lodovico’s house, I was worn out and starving hungry; I hadn’t stopped for any food since breakfast. But I had to go and see Angelo first of all.

He was sitting up in bed looking very pale. He had a gash on his forehead that I hadn’t noticed by torchlight the night before. He held his arm stiffly across his chest.

‘What has happened?’ he asked, gripping my arm with his left hand. ‘Tell me the statue is unharmed!’

‘Unharmed and guarded day and night,’ I said.

He relaxed his grasp. ‘And did they come back?’

‘Not today. Three of them were caught and put in the Stinche but a fourth escaped.’

‘Who were they?
Arrabbiati
?’

‘
Compagnacci
, rather,’ I said. ‘All from old families – I’ve met them at Altobiondi’s. Just young hotheads.’

Angelo laughed, looking relaxed for the first time since the attack.

‘You sound like a disapproving greybeard,’ he said.

‘Well, I do disapprove,’ I said. ‘Whatever they think of David as a republican symbol, can’t they see what a great work it is?’

‘What are we going to do, Gabriele?’ said Angelo. ‘There is still quite a lot of finishing to do on the statue and all the gilding. And the men need me there to supervise the hoist when we lift it on to the plinth – that’s if it even reaches the piazza in one piece.’

‘Let me get something to eat and then I’ll think about it,’ I said. ‘You know my mind’s no good when I’m hungry.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ he said. ‘I think I could eat something now I know the statue is well guarded.’

We went down to the kitchen and roused the housekeeper, who had cleared away supper hours before. Somehow she found enough bread and cheese and meat and olives to satisfy the worst of our hunger. Though her eyes widened to see Angelo’s arm in a sling. He put his fingers to his lips.

‘No one is to know I’ve been injured, Marta,’ he said and he gave her a gold coin. She then found some stewed pears and cream for us.

After we had eaten and retired to his room with a couple of cups and a second bottle of wine, he looked at me quizzically.

‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Have you had enough food and drink to get your mind working on our problem?’

‘There’s only one thing to do,’ I said. ‘I’ll finish the statue for you.’

He looked horrified.

‘I mean under your supervision,’ I added hastily. ‘It will only be what I’ve done before, polishing and refining. And I can do the gilding if you show me exactly what to do. No one need ever know.’

‘But they’ll know I’m not there,’ he objected.

‘You can be there,’ I said. ‘I’ve thought it all out. I’ll go on supervising the move, with the Sangallos and you can come down – with a cloak to hide your arm – from time to time and make a noise about how things are to be done.’

‘I can do that,’ he said drily.

‘Then, as soon as the statue is in place, you and I can put the word about that we are more or less living inside the wooden frame with the statue. All you have to do is poke your head over the scaffolding from time to time and no one will know it’s not you working on the final stages. Except the Sangallos, and they can be relied on.’

‘You are an extraordinary fellow, Gabriele,’ said Angelo, after a pause. ‘I think you have it. How long do you think it will take for my arm to heal?’

I shrugged. ‘At least six weeks, I should think. But you will soon be able to do a few things with it. Does it still hurt?’

‘Like hell,’ he said cheerfully, ‘but the wine is helping. And so is your idea.’

It took nearly four days to get the statue to the piazza. At midday on the 18th of May, we had it in front of the Palazzo and the crowds in the square had to be seen to be believed.

Angelo was there, a long loose cloak covering his injury, shouting orders as if he were in the best of health. In all the confusion, no one would have noticed that his right arm was useless.

The Signoria had decided that the Judith bronze had to come down and it had already been moved to the Loggia; David was to be set up in front of the doorway after all. With all his other worries, Angelo no longer seemed to care much that the statue would not be in his preferred position. Now the task was to hoist the Giant up on to his plinth without breaking him.

For the next three weeks, Angelo and I carried out my plan and virtually lived with the Giant. He was at last hoisted into his final place on the eighth day of June. He was still surrounded by a wooden castle, remade from the frame he was carried in, and all you could see of him was the top of his head.

In the midst of it all, a message came from the Signoria that they wanted Angelo to paint a fresco in the same room as Leonardo’s Battle of Anghiari. It was to be a study of another Florentine victory, the Battle of Cascina.

‘I know why they’re asking me,’ he grunted. ‘They want to put some ginger up Leonardo’s backside. They think if he knows he has some competition he’ll get on faster with his own painting.’

I couldn’t see how my brother could possibly take this on in addition to all his other work but I kept silent. For the time being, we had enough to keep us busy with David.

The ‘castle’ was roomy enough for two men to walk around inside on the scaffolding platforms at several levels and there we ate and slept. I even emptied my brother’s slop bucket; the whole enterprise was designed to keep it secret that the Medici supporters had injured the city’s greatest sculptor.

His arm was mending well and, under his supervision I began to gild the sling that travelled behind the statue’s back – from his left shoulder down to his massive right hand. I also had to gild the tree stump that acted as a prop to the right leg.

Not large areas, I know, but I had never done it before and worked slowly, so as not to make any mistakes.

Maybe it was cowardly, but I knew I was burying myself in the work, trying to avoid seeing anyone – Grazia, the
compagnacci
or the
frateschi
. And as I worked, I thought about going home.

But in the end Grazia came and found me.

I hadn’t seen her for some time and it felt to me as if our passionate affair had nearly run its course. Not that I didn’t feel affection for her – I did. But I had so much to think about and involve me lately that romance was far from my mind.

And she was an unwanted distraction now. I felt my brow knit into a frown much like the larger one on the statue behind me.

‘What is it?’ I asked, probably rather abruptly.

She looked hurt. ‘I came to warn you,’ she said. ‘Your secret is discovered. Altobiondi has found drawings of you naked in his wife’s chest.’

The women’s network! I was glad of the warning but now I dared not go back to the Medici supporters’ meetings. I had always feared that I might be revealed as a
fratesco
spy but I hadn’t given enough thought to the possibility of being found to be Clarice’s former lover.

I was immediately penitent about my treatment of Grazia; it must have cost her something to tell me what she knew.

‘Thank you,’ I said, clasping her hand. ‘It was good of you to tell me. Do you know any more? How . . . how is the boy?’

‘I don’t know. Altobiondi is very angry with his wife and with you. I don’t know how he feels about the little boy but the child is innocent. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him?’

I wished I could believe that. I had seen Altobiondi when his temper was aroused. I wondered which servant had betrayed my secret. It was another unwanted complication now, when there was still so much to complete on the statue, and Angelo was injured.

There had been no further disturbance since the attack on the first night of the Giant’s progress, so when the violence erupted in the square that hot night in July, I was no longer on my guard. I was thinking only of what Grazia had told me. And that was my undoing.