The Bronze Crown. Stefano Vignaroli

in demonstrating that Mira was a witch, that he had completely lost contact with reality!

      Still dazed by the conversation that had just ended and immersed in her thoughts, Lucia had not even noticed that the Judge had returned to the room, patiently waiting for him to speak. She heard the sentence coming out of her own lips as if it were someone else speaking.

      «The charges of witchcraft against Mira have been dropped. It is for you to judge her. Try to be merciful!

      «Her guilt in being responsible for the Cardinal’s death is now widely proven. And, for a murderer, the sentence is death. There is little to discuss. The only clemency I can reserve her is a quick execution without an audience to attend. Mira will be beheaded at dawn tomorrow morning. I will not go public with it. It will be between her and the executioner.»

      «The only thing I ask is that she don’t suffer», replied Lucia, shrugging her shoulders.

      «One sharp blow, well settled, and the young woman’s head will roll on the floor of Piazza della Morte. Mira won’t even have time to realize that her head is no longer attached to her neck.»

      Lucia felt the tears that were about to burst from her eyes, but she pushed them back, sensing their salty taste in her throat. Her grim thoughts were interrupted by an unusual clamour, which reached the windows from outside, from the Piazza del Palio and the surrounding streets. A crowd of people, coming from the countryside, armed with pitchforks, knives and other rudimentary tools, was entering the city from Porta Valle and headed threateningly towards the upper part of the city.

      «At the Palace. Let’s get to the Bishop’s office!»

      «Death to Cardinal Cesarini’s vicar!»

      «Death to the thief, death to the usurper!»

      Lucia, hearing those sentences, understood what was about to happen, and realized that the situation was really serious. She had to do something to stop those people and to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

      A popular uprising right now would mean the end for this city. I must prevent these villains from turning the centre into a massacre. The population has already been decimated by the plague, all we need now is the infighting between citizens to destroy Jesi.

      CHAPTER 4

      The castle of Massignano was welcoming and safe, but Andrea had really tired of training against The Mancino and his thugs. Not that he minded the company of these rude men. Often in the evening he drank wine and played dice with them and more than once he fell asleep on the naked floor, on the other thugs. Of course, The Mancino, even though he had long lost the use of his right arm, knew how to duel well, and more than once he had made the sword fly out of his hands. The more time went by, the more the two became friends, but Andrea was a man of action, and a nobleman, and often wondered how long he had had to endure that semi-captivity, to please the Duke of Montacuto, as a demonstration of his gratitude for having saved him from the gallows. From one day to the next, Andrea waited for the Duke to summon him and finally make him leave for Montefeltro, where he would put his qualities as a leader in the hands of a powerful Lord. And yes, he just couldn’t bear to keep on spending his time in that absurd way. It was as if the Duke was purposely keeping him in that stalled condition, as if he enjoyed keeping him idle for as long as possible.

      «If the Duke hasn’t arranged your transfer yet, you can see that there’s some obstacle, material or political. My master is a shrewd man, though he appears to be a rougher person than we who serve him. But what he has in addition, compared to us, is the ability to make his mind think», and The Mancino touched his temple with his index finger, to underline this concept of his. «You’ll see, in due time everything will be organized, nothing will be left to chance.»

      «Gesualdo, I can make my head work well, and all I understand is that I’ve been here in this castle for almost four years and my limbs are getting lazy. If I had to be face to face with an enemy, I don’t know how it would end... Maybe not good for me!»

      The Mancino, who had understood the antiphon, so as not to plunge young Franciolini into melancholy, jumped up, grabbed his heavy sword with his left hand and invited his friend to the fight.

      «Come on, then, let’s see how rusty you are. In my opinion, what you miss most in here is a woman. It’s useless to keep thinking about your Lucia, who knows if you’ll ever see her again! Leave it to me and tonight you’ll have company. A man needs to let off steam not only the muscles in his arms and legs. I know a couple of maids who, in need, know what to do to satisfy a muscle that has been hibernating for too long! Just give them a couple of silver coins at the end, and it’s done», and he burst into a fat laugh.

      Andrea, struck in the heart, took up the sword and violently crossed it with his left-handed one.

      «You bastard, what do you take me for? For one who goes to whores? I am faithful to my beloved, I swore allegiance to her that I was near death. She healed my wounds and I should reward her with a betrayal?»

      Gesualdo leaned back, holding himself firmly on his legs, and made the young man’s sword crash to the ground with thunder.

      «Eh, love plays tricks on you! Yes, you’re very distracted today, you fight very badly, my friend. You’re lucky to have me in front of you and not an enemy, or you’d be dead already.»

      Andrea raised his sword again and struck a new blow against The Mancino’s sword, which made it swirl, causing his opponent’s unbalance and fall to the ground. In an instant, the edge of the blade resting threateningly on the young man’s neck. The latter, with an agile leap backwards, got rid of the grip and with a kick made the sword fly away from the The Mancino’s hand. Then he regained possession of his own and went on the attack again. This time it was Gesualdo in a position of inferiority. The thugs who watched were not new to the skirmishes between the two and bet who on one who on the other. In short, the crowd became uncontrollable: the two continued to fight, railing against each other, sometimes even shouting, while the bystanders continued to bet higher and higher sums and incited the fight. Until, all of a sudden, everyone was silent. Andrea and Gesualdo realized that something was wrong and stopped fighting. They raised their heads and came face to face with Duke Berengario of Montacuto.

      «Stop playing games, you two, and go make yourselves presentable. Tonight you’ll have the honour of dining at my table», he said in an authoritative voice. Then he turned around in his heels and disappeared down the corridor, in the direction he had come from.

      Rarely, during those long years, had Andrea entered the wing of the castle where the Lord, the Duke of Montacuto, resided. They were much richer rooms, both in furniture and decorations, than the ones he was used to frequent, in the part of the Fortress where soldiers, armigers and servants stayed, and where he had hardly conquered a room with a straw mattress, thanks to Gesualdo’s intercession with the Duke’s lieutenant.

      The times that Andrea found himself in the Duke’s presence were then counted on the fingers of his hands. It was good that the Duke was often far from the Castle, as he spent a lot of time in Ancona, both to keep the administrative affairs of the city under control, now that he had ousted the Council of Elders, and to follow closely the construction of the fortified citadel, a new bulwark to defend the port. The fact is that, since the Duke had saved him from the gallows with a precise purpose, that of sending him to the service of the Malatesta of Rimini, he had expected to have to leave that place of idleness much earlier. And instead, the Duke seemed to take pleasure in not receiving him, when for one reason, when for another, and to keep him among those barbarians, who had nothing to do with him, with his nobility, with his lineage, with his culture. He had not found even a book to read so that he could spend his time in a dignified manner, and his only hobby was to train himself to fight, which had really bored him. His only comfort was the friendship of Gesualdo who, despite his humble origins, he considered a faithful and wise companion in dispensing advice. The fact, now, of walking beside him, comforted him and instilled in his soul the courage he needed to face the eventual conversation with the old Duke of Montacuto.