The Family - Mario Puzo [121]
“And your own child?” he asked. “Are you as pleased with him?”
Her face radiant, her blond hair in ringlets on her forehead and cheeks, Lucrezia nodded. “Rodrigo is but an infant; who can tell who he will be. But he is as beautiful as his father, and as sweet.”
Cesare looked at his sister warily. “So, you remain content with your husband?”
Lucrezia knew she must be careful in her answer. If she tried to reassure her brother by hinting that she was unhappy, Alfonso would lose her protection and could wind up losing his freedom. But if she said she loved her husband too much, he might lose even more. “Alfonso is a good and virtuous man,” she said. “And he is kind to me and the children.”
Cesare’s tone was measured. “And if Papa would try to annul this marriage, would you consent?”
Lucrezia frowned. “Cesare, if Papa would consider such a thing, tell him I would rather die. I will not live in this world without Alfonso. . . . as I would not want to live without you.”
When Cesare left her that day, he was filled with confusion. He found it difficult to accept her love for her husband, yet was comforted that she still professed her love for him.
That night, lying in his bed with only the glow of the moon shining through his window to light his room, he recalled the way she looked, her fragrant smell, and the words she had spoken. It was then that he reflected on her almost imperceptible grimace when she first saw his face. And he heard her voice filled with pity when she said, “My dear Chez, how life has treated you . . . ” He knew then that she had seen both the scars on his face, and the deeper scars of his soul.
And so he vowed from that day forward that he would cover his face with a mask, to cover the toll of his life. He swore that he would clothe himself in mystery, and that he would continue to wage war—not for his father’s God, but on his father’s God.
One month after Cesare’s arrival in Rome, in a solemn ceremony, the Pope stood as Vicar of Christ, clothed in his finest vestments at the magnificently adorned altar of Saint Peter’s Basilica.
Cesare Borgia, the French duke of Valentinois, stood before him. The duke’s mantle was removed, and the Pope placed the cloak of the Gonfaloniere and captain general of the papal army on Cesare’s shoulders, while on his head was placed the crimson biretta. Finally, he was handed the commander’s baton.
Cesare knelt before Pope Alexander and with his hand on the Bible swore the oath of obedience, vowing that he would never conspire against the Holy Father to do him or his successors any harm, and that even under torture or fear of death he would not reveal any of the Pope’s secrets.
And so it was that Alexander blessed him with the Golden Rose, and intoned, “Receive this rose as a symbol of joy, dear son, for you have shown the virtues of both nobility and courage. May the Heavenly Father bless you and keep you safe from harm!”
Later, in a private meeting in the Pope’s chambers, with Duarte Brandao as the only witness, Alexander told his son that he was granting him additional territories and income. “We reward you in this way due to our respect for your victories. And so it follows that we must discuss the resumption of the campaign. It is true that now Imola and Forli are ours, but Faenza, Pesaro, Camerino, and even Urbino are left to be conquered. As captain general you must subdue them, for we must establish the status of the papacy, and create an effective government in order to ensure a united Romagna.”
And with that Alexander retired to his quarters, for he had made arrangements with his favorite courtesan.
The jubilee occurred only once every twenty-five years, and so Alexander reasoned that there would be only one grand celebration during his reign as Pope. Because it brought enormous revenue—as pilgrims from all over Europe filled the city of Rome to hear the Easter sermon of the Pope—preparations had to be made to ensure the filling of the coffers of the Holy Catholic Church. The papacy