The Poet Prince (22 page)

“And the
true
royalty of this land,” Fra Francesco reminded him, making reference to the ancient and storied lineage of the family, as well as Lorenzo’s exalted birth.

“Yes, but you would not get the aristocratic Donati to agree with you. From their perspective, the Medici are merchants and many layers beneath them on the hierarchy of mankind.”

“This girl. You say she is intelligent as well?”

Ficino nodded. “She is Lorenzo’s equal, Master. I would say that to no one but you, but she is. Aside from her horoscope, I can see that she is his own soul’s twin through the way that she learns and the subjects in which she excels. They are so similar sometimes that I find it disturbing. There is a symmetry there, a perfection in their togetherness. And yet . . . I can also see that it is not their destiny to be together. Such things make me ask questions of God and of faith.”

Fra Francesco nodded. “Fair enough, my boy, fair enough. I have seen many things in my long life that would make me question the will of God, and most of them pertain to the course of love. Why are two souls made for each other but then kept apart? It is the strife of love, Marsilio. The strife of love in the dream we call life. But it all has purpose, and that purpose is to seek union. We are tested to see if we
have the mettle to battle the illusion and find the love at the end of the dream. And when we do, the dream becomes a reality. Then nothing is more beautiful.”

Ficino, who had never been in love in all his years, merely nodded, as he had nothing to add. He was a singular soul, happiest when immersed in his studies and his books, and not one to be distracted by longings of love. It was simply something he did not crave.

“Earthly love is not the mission for everyone, of course,” Fra Francesco continued. “There are a number of angels, like yourself, who have come here to work in singular purpose. You do not crave love because you were not incarnated with a mate. You do not search for anyone, because there is no one here for you.”

“I am happy as I am, Master.”

“Of course you are! Our mother and father in heaven do not make mistakes, and they are never cruel. They would not send you here without a mate and then give you the terrible longing to find one. Instead, they send you here alone so you can focus on your work, which is your one true love. And it makes you completely happy, as it was meant to.”

The Master laughed now, the jagged scar beneath his beard bobbing up and down. “And this is why it is your mission to teach the classics and linguistics, while it is my job to teach about love. Which brings us back to the subject at hand. What shall we do about this delightful new Expected One who is Lorenzo’s one true love? Have you discussed her with Cosimo?”

Ficino shook his head. “Cosimo’s health is a concern and I do not wish to burden him with this yet until you are certain that she is what we think she is.”

“Well then, there is only one thing left to do. Bring her to me as soon as you can so that we may decide this, once and for all.”

Colombina joined Lorenzo in Montevecchio the next day, where she was brought into the presence of the Master for the first time. She had heard many stories of him, of course, and Lorenzo worshipped him ab
solutely as the wisest and kindest man who ever lived. He had warned her of his ancient and rugged appearance, but such things did not affect her at all. Colombina was a pure spirit, and she saw others for what they were in their truest selves and not what they were on the surface.

They spent the first hour together in the drawing room of Ficino’s house, the four of them. The Master watched Colombina interact with Lorenzo and Ficino, interested in observing her in her most natural way. He realized as he watched her that there was no other way to view her: she was entirely without artifice.

The Master smiled at the little gathering but then announced that it was time for him to speak to Colombina on her own. Ficino excused himself and dragged Lorenzo with him. They had plenty of preparation to do for the Platonic Academy meeting later in the week.

When Ficino and Lorenzo had gone, Fra Francesco asked, “Now, my dear. Lorenzo tells me that you have had dreams of the crucifixion and of Our Lady Magdalena. When did these begin?”

Colombina nodded obediently and told him. “The first time was last year, the night before I met Lorenzo. And I remember because it was the eve of my birthday and I woke up crying. My mother was most vexed. ‘Why are you crying when it is your birthday and the beginning of spring?’ she asked me. I told her that I had a nightmare, but I did not tell her what it was. My mother is very religious, and I have no doubt that if I told her about the dream I had, she would send me off to a convent!”

“Will you tell me of the dream?”

“Oh yes. I do not think that
you
will send me to a convent!” She laughed.

Fra Francesco laughed with her. “I can assure you that will never happen.”

“Well, I see Our Lord upon the cross, and it is raining very hard. And I see Maria Magdalena at the foot of the cross, and she is weeping terribly, and I begin to cry with her. I see other women there as well: the Holy Mother and the other Marys. All of them are weeping, but none of them can I feel so much as Magdalena. I . . .” She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands in her lap, hesitating to discuss the part of the dream that could land her in a convent with no means of escape.

“Go on, my dear. You have nothing to fear from me.”

She smiled at him then, the dazzling dimpled smile that enchanted everyone who came in contact with her. “I know that, Master. I have known that since the moment I walked in the door. It is just that the next part of the dream is not so easy to explain. But . . . I feel what Magdalena is feeling in the dream, as if I am her, and yet I know that I am not really her. But it is as if she wants me to know her mind and her heart, and so she somehow shares them with me. It would be strange enough if I had the dream just once, but I have had it three times.”

Fra Francesco nodded at her. “It is a remarkable dream, little dove. A blessed dream. Do you see any of the Roman soldiers in the dream, by chance? See their faces?”

She shook her head. “No, not very clearly. I am aware that they are there, but I do not see them. I am mostly aware of Magdalena.”

The Master nodded, satisfied. Colombina was indeed having
the identical dream of the crucifixion that all the Expected Ones who came before had experienced. And if she was unable to see the face of the centurions, so much the better: it kept him from having to explain why the face of Longinus Gaius was a younger version of his own face, with its terrible scar across the left cheek.

There was no doubt that Colombina was authentic, a daughter of the holy prophecy. And like all the bloodline prophetesses, she wasn’t just seeing Magdalena, she was feeling her. But how would they get her away from her parents and into proper Order training? What role could this girl play if she was not able to marry Lorenzo, which was highly unlikely?

Fra Francesco embraced the girl, then released her to spend the rest of the afternoon with her beloved Lorenzo. He smiled as they wandered off to the garden, hand in hand. To watch the two of them together was a blessed thing. It gave him hope and filled his ancient heart with love, in spite of Marsilio’s dire predictions.

“Love conquers all, my children,” he whispered after them. “Love conquers all.”

Truly, without Deceit, certainly and absolutely . . .

That which is below corresponds to that which is above,
and that which is above corresponds to that which is below,
in the accomplishment of the Miracle of the One Thing . . .

Its Father is the Sun. Its Mother is the Moon.
The Wind has carried it in his belly.
Its nourishment is the Earth.
It rises from Earth to Heaven,
and then it descends again to the Earth,
and receives Power from above and from below.
Thus you will have Glory of the whole World.
All obscurity will be clear to you.
This is the strong Power of all Power

In this way was the world created.
From this there will be amazing applications,
because this is the Pattern.
Therefore am I called Thrice-Great Hermes,
having the three parts of the wisdom of the whole World.

THE EMERALD TABLET OF HERMES TRISMEGISTUS

Antica Torre, Santa Trinità District
Florence
present day

A
T THE EDGE
of the river Arno lies a district known as Santa Trinità, an area named for the Holy Trinity. A secretive and mysterious community of monks with ties to the Order built a monastery there in the tenth century, under the patronage of Siegfried of Lucca, Matilda of Canossa’s legendary great-great-grandfather. The monks were not only sympathetic to the origins of the Order, some of them were descended from the most powerful bloodline families themselves and were sworn members. Here, the teachings of the Libro Rosso were preserved, the sanctity of union and the truth of the Trinity were understood as cornerstones to the true teachings.

The antique towers of the Gianfigliazza family had stood guard over the edge of the neighborhood known as Santa Trinità for almost eight hundred years. Today, both towers existed in perfect restored condition, straddling either side of the fashionable shopping street named for the family of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s mother, the Via Tornabuoni. One tower had been converted into a fashion museum as well as the flagship store of the ultrachic Italian designer Salvatore Ferragamo. The other tower contained a hotel as well as a series of private apartments. On one floor of the south tower were the living quarters of Petra Gianfigliazza; the apartment was also the current headquarters of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher.

A stunning and stylish blonde, Petra had purchased this apartment in the tower in an effort to reclaim her family’s ancestral property in Florence using the money she had saved while working as a fashion model in Milan. She was too old to model now, although still more
beautiful than most of the girls half her age who were working the runways these days. The fashion world had changed too much for her taste over the years with its unhealthy emphasis on girls who were encouraged to starve themselves and use artificial stimulants to stunt their appetites. She had worked in it for as long as she could stand. Thus Petra had been delighted when Destino had phoned to tell her that he wanted to return to Florence from France. She had not seen him in a few years, although they kept in close contact and had since she was a child and his devoted student. Her family still owned some of the property not far from Montevecchio, where Destino stored the artifacts of the Order and had last lived while in Florence.

Since his return to Italy, Destino most often stayed in Montevecchio. Petra worried about him out there on his own in that old house. He had aged tremendously since she had seen him last and was indeed looking very frail. She was relieved when he had decided that staying in the city was a better idea once Maureen and her friends arrived. There would be many sights in Florence to show them pertaining to the Order, and it would be far easier if they were all here in one place. Petra was just glad that she could keep an eye on him at the same time.

And now, after Vittoria Buondelmonti’s latest rogue antics, Petra was feeling more protective of Destino than ever. She had attempted to reach Vittoria after her outrageous behavior in New York and her tawdry public claims that Bérenger Sinclair had fathered her child. Vittoria had not returned her calls. Yet. But she would eventually. Petra had been Vittoria’s mentor on the runway but also in the Order, as they both came from ancient Tuscan families with related heritage. Their relationship made Vittoria’s erratic actions of the last week all the more upsetting.

Meanwhile, Petra had protected Destino from the news. Her beloved teacher’s health was more fragile than ever, and she didn’t want to send him into shock over recent events. Destino loved all his students as if they were his own children, so when one went off the rails, as it appeared Vittoria had, he became extremely distressed. Petra feared that Vittoria’s obvious attempt to destroy Maureen and Bérenger’s relation
ship would have a profound effect on Destino. She knew she couldn’t keep it from him much longer, as Maureen was certainly bound to ask him for advice in the matter, if Bérenger didn’t. Petra would have to alert him before that happened, but she needed to have this out with Vittoria first.

Destino currently shared Petra’s spacious apartment, while Maureen and her friends were installed in the adjoining hotel. They were able to hold meetings either in Petra’s living room or on the roof deck of the tower, with its stunning views of the Duomo on one side and the Ponte Vecchio on the other.

It was here, on the roof deck, that Destino and Petra, the modern leaders of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher, first met with Maureen’s little group, which included Tammy, Roland, and Peter. Bérenger was conspicuously absent, having flown to Scotland to investigate the allegations against his brother. No one had heard from him in the last twenty-four hours, and they were all getting anxious about the events within Sinclair manor.