The Family - Mario Puzo [156]
The Pope looked up and answered crossly. “I could say it was due to the looseness of your wife’s morals—for she is a spicy little clove—or your inability to help her keep her temper,” Alexander said. “But it is far less personal this time. I seem to be unable to impress upon the good king of Naples, who is aligned with Ferdinand of Spain, the importance of French interest in Naples. Louis has requested that I do something, and so to prove my allegiance I have.”
“What has this to do with Sancia?” Jofre asked. “She is but a girl, and she has done nothing in regard to France.”
“Jofre. Please! Don’t be a hairless eunuch!” Alexander said impatiently. “Your brother’s welfare is at stake; the papacy rests on its ability to support its alliances. And at this moment, our strongest alliance is with France.”
“Father,” Jofre said, his eyes lit with fire. “I cannot allow this, for Sancia can never love a man who cannot, at the very least, protect her from the dungeons.”
“She may send a message to her uncle, the king, and explain her need for assistance,” the Pope said.
In that moment Jofre had to look away from his father, for he feared the Pope would see the hatred written on his face. “Father,” Jofre said, “I will ask this one more time, as your son. You must free my wife, for otherwise you will cause the end of my marriage. And I cannot allow that.”
Alexander seemed puzzled for a moment. What was this son saying? His wife, Sancia, had been trouble from the day she had arrived, and he had done nothing to harness her or even rein her in. What insolence now made him dare to tell his father—and the Holy Father as well—how to run the Holy Mother Church?
But the Pope’s voice held to reason, devoid of all emotion, when he answered this son. “Because you are my son, I will forgive you this trespass,” he said. “But if ever you speak in this way again, for any reason, I will have your head upon a pike, and I myself will swear to your heresy. Do you understand?”
Jofre took a deep breath. “How long will my wife be imprisoned?”
“Ask the king of Naples,” Alexander said. “For it is all up to him. The moment he agrees that Louis shall wear the crown is the moment your wife goes free.”As Jofre turned to go, the Pope added, “From this day forward, you will be guarded day and night to keep you from temptation.”
All Jofre asked was, “May I see her?”
Alexander looked surprised. “What kind of father would I be if I would keep my son from his wife?” he asked. “Do you think me a monster?”
Jofre could not keep the tears from streaming down his face, for on this night he had lost not only his wife, but his father as well.
Sancia was taken to the cellar of the fortress at Sant’ Angelo, and placed in a dungeon alone. From the cells around her she could hear the cries and screams of the others, who moaned and shouted obscenities to the papal guards.
Those who recognized her taunted her, and those who didn’t wondered how such a fine-fashioned young woman could have placed herself in such a situation.
Sancia herself was livid, and raging mad. This time he had done it. The Pope who had once before sent her away had now sealed his fate; for she would make certain, even from this place, that she helped take him down. He would sit on the throne of the Holy Father no longer, she vowed; if she had to give her life to that one mission, it would be worth more than all the ducats in the world.
When Jofre came, Sancia had already overturned the cot and dumped its straw onto the dungeon floor. She had taken the water and food she had been brought, and even the wine, and tossed it against the small wooden door, leaving pieces of her dinner stuck to it.
Jofre was surprised to find that when he greeted her, she came to him and embraced him. “Husband, you must help me,” she told him. “If you love me, you must get a message to my family. You must let my uncle know what has become of me.”
“I will do that,” Jofre said, holding