The Family - Mario Puzo [39]
Pesaro was beautiful; its countryside, dotted with olive trees, was lush and green. Surrounding it, protecting it, the huge and graceful Apennine Mountains cradled the city. Lucrezia knew she could be truly happy here—happier still if she could find a way to tolerate her husband, Giovanni.
It was well known throughout France that King Charles placed great faith not only in the Holy Roman Catholic Church, but also in the alignment of the stars in the heavens. And so it followed that his most trusted advisor was the physician and astrologer Simon of Pavia. Simon had read the celestial map on the occasion of Charles’s birth, and it was he who proclaimed the young king’s future destiny as leader of the new Crusade against the Infidel Turks. From the time Charles was a child, he embarked upon no important assignment without the counsel of his astrologer.
It was due not only to great skill but also to great fortune that Duarte Brandao came upon this important piece of information, and conceived of a brilliant strategy. He was in such high spirits, he rushed into the Pope’s chambers to speak to him.
Pope Alexander was sitting at his desk, signing a large pile of papal bulls. When he looked up and saw Duarte, he smiled amiably and dismissed everyone else in the room.
Alexander stood and walked over to his favorite chair. But when Duarte bent to kiss his ring, the Pope pulled his hand away impatiently. “My friend, save all this ceremony for public occasions or when we are in the company of others, for in private I acknowledge that it is you that I trust above all—even my children. And that responsibility imposes a certain equality, even upon the Vicar of Christ. For I, Alexander the man, cherish your loyalty and value your friendship.”
He waved his hand to indicate a chair opposite him, but Duarte was unable to sit still as he explained what he had learned.
Pope Alexander listened carefully. Then he asked, “Do you, yourself, believe the stars rule?”
Duarte shook his head. “Your Holiness, what I believe can hardly matter.”
“And yet it does,” the Pope said.
“I believe the stars affect one’s life, yet no one but the man himself and our Heavenly Father rules his life.”
The Pope reached to touch the amber amulet that always hung around his neck, and rubbed it affectionately. “Each of us believes there is a charm to our life, and so this Charles is not much different.” He smiled at Duarte. “But you must have a plan you have brought me, for I can see it on your face, so speak of it now.”
Duarte’s voice was almost a whisper. “Let me go to this man, this Simon of Pavia, in advance of the invasion, with a ‘professional fee.’ An act of confidence.”
“In what amount?” Alexander asked.
Duarte hesitated a moment, for he knew of the Pope’s frugal nature when dealing with anything but state ceremony and family. “I would offer twenty thousand ducats . . . ”
Alexander’s eyes widened, and he tried to control the surprise in his voice. “Duarte? We could outfit an army with horses for such a sum. Twenty thousand ducats is not a professional fee, it is a colossal bribe . . . ”
Brandao smiled. “Holiness, we must not quibble over a few pieces of gold. We must ensure a favorable reading by this physician, for he has earned the trust of the king of France.”
The Pope sat in quiet consideration for several minutes, and then he agreed. “Duarte, as usual, you are correct. Pay the dottore his fee, as you suggest. Astrology itself denies the God-given gift of free will. It is forbidden by canon law. So it is not as though we are opposing a lawful Christian process. Our interference with it does not stain our immortal soul.”
That very night Duarte rode in disguise through the French lines. He rode for several days to reach his destination—a small cottage in the woods. There he arrived in time to find Simon of Pavia frolicking in the arms of a very rotund whore. Brandao, always a gentleman, politely convinced Simon to excuse himself from the lady and join him in the living quarters, for