The Family - Mario Puzo [7]
Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia reasoned that in each family some must stand forward in the light and preach the word of God. Yet behind them must be others, to provide safety and ensure them success in their holy endeavors. Those who sat on the throne of the church could not defend themselves from the evil of others without the help of a human hand, for this was the nature of the world in which they lived.
That young Don Michelotto had been called upon to play the role of the evildoer did not surprise either of them, for he was a superior man. His love of, and loyalty to, both the Heavenly Father and the Holy See was never in question, no matter the slurs to his character whispered by his enemies. For Rodrigo Borgia had no doubt that Don Michelotto would always surrender his will to that of the Heavenly Father and willingly act on the commands of the Holy Mother Church.
And as the cardinal believed that his actions were guided by divine inspiration, so Don Michelotto believed that his hands were guided by the same heavenly force, and so there was no question of sin. For each time he stopped the breath of an enemy of the cardinal or the church, was he not just returning those souls home to the judgment of the Heavenly Father?
And so it was, shortly after Juan’s recovery, that Rodrigo Borgia, who had grown up in Valencia and knew the blood that coursed through the heart of this Spaniard, called his nephew to Rome. Aware of the dangers in this foreign land, he now entrusted twenty-one-year-old Don Michelotto with the well-being of his family. And as the cardinal’s children grew older, they seldom turned without finding the shadow of Don Michelotto behind them.
Now, whenever the cardinal was in Rome and his duties as vice-chancellor didn’t force him away, he visited his children daily to talk and play with them, Don Michelotto often at his side. And at the first opportunity, he fled the fetid choking summer heat of Rome, with its narrow crowded streets, to take them to his magnificent retreat in the rich green countryside.
2
HIDDEN IN THE foothills of the Apennines, a day’s ride from Rome, was a vast tract of land with a magnificent forest of cedar and pine surrounding a small clear lake. Rodrigo Borgia had acquired it as a gift from his uncle, Pope Calixtus III, and over the past few years he had built it into an opulent country retreat for himself and his family.
This was Silverlake, a magical place. Filled with the sounds of nature and the colors of creation, it was to him an earthly paradise. At dawn and again at dusk, when the blue had gone from the sky, the surface of the lake turned a silvery gray. From the first moment he laid eyes upon it, the cardinal was enchanted. And his hope was that he and his children would spend their happiest moments there.
During the hot lemon-colored days of summer, the children swam in the lake to cool themselves and then ran wild in the lush green fields while the cardinal strolled through the fragrant citrus groves, golden prayer beads in hand. During those peaceful times, he marveled at the beauty of life, and especially at the beauty of his life. Certainly he had worked hard, was painstaking in his attention to detail from the time he was a young bishop, but how much did that determine one’s good fortune? For how many poor souls labored yet were not rewarded on earth by the heavens? Gratitude filled his heart, and the cardinal looked up at the clear blue skies to say a prayer and beg a blessing. For beneath the surface of his faith, after all these years of grace, there remained the hidden terror that for such a life as his, a