The Family - Mario Puzo [118]
Once his soldiers lowered the drawbridge, Cesare and his men galloped across the bridge and into the castle, shouting, “Attack!”
It was then that Caterina, from her perch on the rooftop, took note of the stock of munitions and gunpowder heaped in great mounds in the center of the fortress. With all her might she dislodged one of the fiery torches from the ramparts, and tossed it into the hill of gunpowder. She would blow herself and her city up rather than fall captive to this enemy! The explosion rocked the castle, destroyed homes and shops, and killed over four hundred citizens of Forli. But Cesare and many of his soldiers remained unharmed. Caterina’s soldiers emerged from the rooftops, towers, balconies, and other embankments. Wounded and bedraggled, they surrendered, relieved by Cesare’s victory.
Unfortunately for her, Caterina Sforza was not injured. Instead she was taken hostage by the French captain, who later that night, over a card game after dinner, ransomed her to Cesare for thirty thousand ducats.
Caterina Sforza now belonged to Cesare Borgia, and he could do with her what he wished.
After supper, Cesare took a long, hot bath and then dressed in his black silk robe, retrieved for him from his baggage. The master bedroom of the castle in Forli had remained intact, and now he lay on the bed considering what he would do with Caterina.
She was at this very moment a captive in a small darkened room in the basement of the castle, guarded by two of Cesare’s most trusted guards. He had given them explicit instruction not to take their eyes off her for a moment.
At midnight, still clad in his robe, Cesare walked down to the cellar. He heard her ranting, screaming, and cursing before he ever saw her. He walked into the small damp room, dimly lit with one candle. Caterina lay on her back in an iron bed, each of her wrists and ankles pulled tight to the sides of the bedstead. Tied and chained, the She-Wolf was tossing her head furiously from side to side.
Cesare stood silently before her, and the moment Caterina saw him she stopped shouting. Instead she raised her head as far as she was able, and spit at him with all her might. But he remained just out of reach.
“My dear Countess,” Cesare said charmingly. “You could have saved yourself and your people from coming to harm, had you the capacity for reason.”
She turned her face and stared into his eyes, her own a startling blue. Then her beautiful face became contorted with rage, and with a venomous voice she challenged him. “What kind of torture do you save for a woman, you cowardly piece of Roman shit?”
“I will show you,” he answered, his voice cold.
Cesare shed his robe and climbed upon her, forcing himself into her slowly at first, then thrusting forward and upward as he penetrated her deeply. He waited to hear her screams, her curses, but she was silent. And the only sound in the room was the mumbling of the standing Roman guards.
Cesare continued now as though in a rage, plunging into her with thrust after powerful thrust, until suddenly she began to move along with him. Her full hips lifted, her pelvis pushing toward him, and he began to believe he was bringing her pleasure. Cesare continued to ravish her, for he was certain of his victory over her. And when he finished her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was soaked with sweat.
“You should thank me,” he said as he moved off her.
She looked at him with blue eyes blazing. “Is that all you have to give me?” she asked.
Cesare stormed out of the room. But on the next two nights Cesare visited Caterina at midnight and repeated the same silent act of conquest. The results remained the same. Afterward, her cheeks flushed and her body slick with sweat, she would ask, “Is that all you have for me?”
He determined to continue in the same fashion until she surrendered.