The Family - Mario Puzo [20]
Lucrezia bowed her head and nodded in understanding. She looked very young.
When Alexander had finished, he stood up and began to walk around the large room, wondering how to present his new proposal most delicately.
Finally he turned toward his daughter and asked, “Do you know yet how to bed a man? Has anyone explained?”
“No, Papa,” she said, and for the first time, she smiled wickedly at him, as she had seen many of the courtesans do . . .
Alexander shook his head in wonder at this child of his. She was so full of emotion, as was her mother, and yet could be so clever and playful even at this early age.
He motioned to his sons, Cesare and Juan. They both moved close and kneeled in front of him, bowing their heads in respect. “Rise, my sons,” he said. “We must speak. We have important decisions to make, for the future of all of us will depend on what we speak about this day.”
Cesare was thoughtful and introspective though not as easygoing and pleasant as his sister. Fiercely competitive since early childhood, he insisted on winning at all things by whatever means he could avail himself. Juan, on the other hand, was more sensitive to personal injury, though quite insensitive when it came to others. He had a cruel streak, and most of the time wore a sardonic expression. He had none of Lucrezia’s easy grace, and none of the charisma of his older brother. Still, Alexander was very fond of him, sensing in him a vulnerability that Cesare and Lucrezia did not have.
“Papa, why have you called us here?” Cesare asked, looking out the window. He was feeling full of energy, and it was a beautiful day; he wanted to be outside in the city. “There is a fine carnival this noon in the square that we should attend . . . ”
Alexander moved over to his favorite chair in the corner of the large chamber. “Sit, my children, sit with me,” he gently ordered them. All three sat at his feet on large silk pillows.
He smiled as he waved his arm over them. “This is the greatest family in all of Christendom,” he said. “We will rise with the great deeds we do for the Holy Roman Catholic Church, we will save many souls, and we will live quite well while we are doing God’s work. But as each of you knows, this entails sacrifice. As we have learned from the lives of many of our saints . . . great deeds require great sacrifice.” He made the sign of the cross.
He looked at Lucrezia, who was sitting on the rug at his feet leaning against the shoulder of her brother Cesare. Next to him, but separate from them, sat Juan, polishing a new dagger he had been given. “Cesare, Juan? I expect that each of you has bedded a woman?”
Juan frowned. “Of course, Papa. Why would you ask such a question?”
“One should have as much information as possible before one makes an important decision,” he said. Then he turned to his eldest son. “Cesare, and you? Have you bedded a woman?” he asked.
“Many,” Cesare said simply.
“And were they pleased?” he asked both his sons.
Juan frowned impatiently. “How would I know?” he asked, laughing. “Was I obliged to ask?”
The Pope lowered his head and spoke. “Cesare, were the women you bedded pleased?”
Cesare, with a small smile and an open countenance, answered, “I imagine they were, Father,” he said. “For each of them begged to see me again.”
Pope Alexander looked at his daughter, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. Then he turned his gaze back to his sons. “Which of you will agree to bed your sister?”
Juan now looked bored. “Papa,” he said, “I would rather join a monastery.”
Alexander smiled, but said, “You’re a foolish young man.”
But Lucrezia was frowning now. “Why would you ask my brothers without asking me first?” she asked. “If one of them is to bed me, should it not be my choice?” she said.
Cesare