The Family - Mario Puzo [158]
In Florence that summer the afternoon sun hung high in the sky, a steaming red disk that burned hot on the city below. The windows of the Palazzo della Signoria opened wide to the square outside inviting flies, but no breeze cooled the stifling room. There the men of the Signoria sweated and fidgeted, anxious for the difficult session to be completed, so that they could rush home to a cool bath and a glass of chilled wine.
The most important matter to consider was the report of Niccolò Machiavelli, special emissary to the Vatican. That could foretell the future of their city.
The situation in the Papal States was a matter of growing concern. Cesare Borgia had threatened Florence itself on his last campaign, and they feared that the next time he might not be bought off so easily.
Machiavelli rose to address the Signoria. Despite the heat he wore a doublet of pearl-gray satin, and his gleaming white blouse remained dry and crisp.
“Excellencies,” he said, in a dramatic and eloquent voice, “you all know that Urbino has fallen, that the duke was taken by surprise. Some say by treachery, but if so it was not undeserved. Guido Feltra was clearly plotting against the Borgia, and they duped him in return. It would seem to be a case of frodi onorevoli—honorable fraud.” Machiavelli paced in front of them as he continued.
“Where does Cesare Borgia stand? Well, his army is large and well organized, and his men are loyal. It is known throughout all the cities and towns he has conquered that Cesare’s soldiers adore him. He has subdued the Romagna, and now Urbino. He terrified the Bolognese—and, if the truth be known, he has terrified us as well.” He placed his hand over his eyes in a theatrical gesture, to impress upon the members the severity of what he was about to say. “We cannot rely on the French to interfere with Cesare’s plans. It’s true, the French were suspicious of the Borgia in the revolt of Arezzo, and they were quite displeased by Cesare’s threatening Bologna and our own great city. But remember, Louis still needs the Pope’s support in dealing with Spain and Naples—and given the strength and skill of Cesare’s army, their position seems quite sensible.”
Machiavelli lowered his voice. “Now, I will share with you a confidence. Cesare has paid Louis a secret visit, traveling in disguise without guards. By placing himself totally in the power of the French king, and begging his forgiveness for Vitelli’s erroneous adventure in Arezzo, Cesare has healed whatever breach may have existed between France and the papacy. Therefore, this time, if Cesare attacks Bologna, I predict that the king will support him. If he attacks Florence, the French may or may not interfere.”
A perspiring signor rose, mopping his forehead with a white linen handkerchief, his brow furrowed with worry. “What you seem to be telling us, Machiavelli, is that Cesare Borgia is unstoppable, and that those of us lucky enough to have villas in the mountains should flee.”
“I doubt it’s that bad, Excellency,” Machiavelli reassured. “So far our relationship with Cesare is amicable, and he has a genuine fondness for our city.
“But there is something else to consider, which may shift the balance of this equation. Cesare Borgia has defeated and humiliated a number of dangerous men by driving them from their territories, and though it is true that his army is loyal and his soldiers adore him, I am far less certain of his condottieri—for they are violent and unpredictable men, capable of jealousy and worse. I fear they will someday turn and seek to overthrow him. You see, while becoming the most powerful man in Italy, Cesare Borgia has built up a list of formidable enemies . . . a list not one of us would wish to share.”
In Magioni, at a castle in Orsini territory, the conspiracy began to take shape. Giovanni Bentivoglio of Bologna was determined to lead the conspiracy. A large, athletic man with crinkly peppered hair and coarse features, he smiled readily, and spoke in a voice rich with persuasion. But he had a dark side as well. Before