«The guests will begin to arrive in a moment», said the Cardinal, addressing Lucia, finally freeing her from the grip of his icy hand. The young woman had never been able to understand why her uncles hands were always so cold, almost as if blood did not flow under his skin. Not even prolonged contact with her much warmer hand had been able to increase the temperature of Artemios. «Lets go get ready.»
So saying, he retired to his rooms to get dressed in pomp and circumstance, while two young servants approached his niece. They would take her to the toilet, to devote themselves to her, first giving her a perfumed bath, then dressing her, and finally making her wear a sumptuous green silk gown. While she let herself be cared for, Lucia thought back to Andrea Franciolinis eyes. And already! In those days she had inquired, and the handsome horseman whose eyes she had met only for a moment was her betrothed. And she had fallen in love with his eyes, his face, his poise, it was as if there had always been an alchemical affinity with him. She already felt him part of herself, part of her own soul, her whole body vibrated with the thought that soon she could talk to him, get to know him better, stare into his eyes, that they would certainly hide nothing from her. She looked out the window of the room, but felt a strange sensation: the sky of that long day that was turning into sunset was leaden. A hood of sultriness, of humidity, was gripping the city, instilling in her heart the feeling that something bad was going to happen in the short term, and that this something would also affect her in the long term. But what? She couldnt understand it, even with her powers of vision. Her uncles mind, as usual, had also been hermetically sealed that day, but when she looked into his eyes only one word kept ringing in her head: Betrayal. Why? She wanted to make her sphere materialize, to throw it high into the sky so that she could see for her, but she couldnt do that right now, in front of witnesses. While the tall blonde servant girl finished lacing her dress behind her back, the one with the smallest build and darkest hair made her wear the jewels, necklaces and bracelets of gold and precious stones, of exquisite workmanship, made by the Cardinal especially for her by goldsmiths of the school of Lucagnolo. At that moment, Lucia felt a lack, she felt a twinge in her heart as if someone was piercing it with a dagger, or with a sword. She collapsed in her chair and lost consciousness for a few moments.
«My lady, my lady, how do you feel?» The black maids voice came muffled to her ears.
«Its nothing, its just the heat, this cursed heat, and the emotion. I feel better now.»
Lucia hadnt associated her feeling with what would happen soon afterwards to her beloved Andrea.
Executor of the barbaric aggression of that day was the soldier of Francesco Maria Della Rovere, Duke of Montefeltro and already banner holder of the Church. Since the new Pope, Leo X, had stripped him of his state, he had hired Spanish and Gascon soldiers as mercenaries and, after having plundered many castles devoted to the Pope, he headed towards Jesi, in order to conquer this papal stronghold, with the help of the Anconas people led by the Duke of Montacuto and thanks to the secret support of the highest ecclesiastical office of the city, Cardinal Baldeschi. As promised by the Cardinal, the soldier coming from the hills west of Jesi, found Porta St. Florian open, had easy reason of the guards of the Fortino, attacked by surprise, and was soon in Piazza del Mercato, just when the procession of the nobleman Franciolini, coming from Via delle Botteghe, arrived in the same square.
Franciolini and his men were not ready for battle, they were not wearing armour, they were going to a party and only had light weapons with them.
«Betrayal!» said Guglielmo, getting off his horse and facing a Spaniard armed with a short dagger. «Chain the streets, dont let them go down into the valley, or theyll open the gates to the army of Ancona, and well be caught between two clamps.»
Only with the strength of his arms and his short dagger, he had already landed two Spaniards, leaving them in a pool of blood. Guglielmo was a skilful fighter, and he was quick to catch the enemy. As soon as he saw his opponent hesitant, he would stick the knife in his heart, then pull it out, clean the blade on his clothes and start fighting again. The enemy vanguards didnt wear armour and it was easy to be right with them. But the enemies came out of Via del Fortino by the dozens, by the hundreds, like a flooded river whose banks could not hold back the water. A Spanish crossbowman took aim and pointed his weapon at Andrea, who was still proud on his horse. The young man had found himself in the middle of the battle at other times and had not given importance to the fact that at the moment he was not wearing armour, but a colourful brocade suit. He had his steed soaring to the fray when he was hit in the right thigh. Other arrows reached both horse and rider. Andrea fell to the ground, with at least four darts piercing him. His horse, hit in the chest, ruined his heavy body on top of him. He tried, without succeeding, to slip away from the mass of the heavy animal, but the forces were abandoning him. Guglielmo, aware of his son who had landed, turned towards him, distracting himself from the fight and turning his back dangerously on the enemy to come to his aid. He saw Andreas eyelids drooping, called out to him, but had no answer. He realized that his cadet was now unconscious, perhaps dying. Just at that moment a long blade pierced him, penetrating from behind his back, making its way between his ribs, cutting through his heart and coming out of his chest, accompanied by a powerful stream of blood. Guglielmo barred the eyes that, at the moment of the passage, were still staring at the brave and agonizing son.
Easily right of that small handful of men, Spaniards and Gascon spread through the streets of the city. Some went up Via delle Botteghe up to the Porta della Rocca, surprising the soldiers on guard, killing them and opening the door. Others went down to the valley to open Porta Valle and Porta Cicerchia and thus facilitate the entrance into the city of the Ancona army, which had been waiting for days for nothing more than that moment. Although taken by surprise, the inhabitants tried to organize a defence inside the town, spurred on by some nobles, in particular by Fiorano Santoni, who immediately gathered a squadron of people who, chained the streets as arranged by the Peoples Capitan, prepared to fight the enemy in the streets, alleys and squares. But the latter, strengthened by the contribution of the Anconas people, was too numerous and the Jesis inhabitants, humbled by the cries and tears of women and children, abandoned the defence.
Above all, the mercenaries in the pay of Francesco Maria Della Rovere were thirsty for pillage and the inhabitants, considering that they had not been able to save their homeland, tried at least to save their property, but even in this they had no success: the rich gentlemen were taken prisoners and their women, who had tried to escape, with their jewels, in the churches, saw themselves reached by the Spaniards even inside the sacred places, where they did not disdain to strip them of what was precious on them and rape them. At a certain point, a woman, Eleonora Carotti, with a haughty and male bearing, managed to slap a Gascon who was placing his hands in her breast to take away the jewels he had hidden there and at the same time take advantage to grope her. She found herself between him and another group of Spanish soldiers. If the slapped Gascon had been astonished, without reacting, the others had not lost heart, they landed the damsel, stripped her of her clothes and, making sure she was a woman to all intents and purposes, had raped her one after the other, holding a knife to her throat. The last soldier, having reached his unhealthy pleasure, sank the knife, cutting her throat mercilessly.
The sacking of Jesi lasted eight days, many palaces were set on fire, some with the inhabitants inside, bound so that they would burn alive inside their homes, guilty that the looters hadnt found enough money or valuables to take away.
There was no respect even for sacred things, nor for religious people, and many priests were tortured and tortured to confess where they had hidden the church ornaments. The plundering spread to the whole countryside and no place, city or country, was spared.
Baldeschi Palace, which had been barred the whole time, on the eighth day opened its doors to Grand Duke Francesco Maria della Rovere and Duke Berengario of Montacuto, who were welcomed in conversation by the Cardinal. The latter had in fact arrogated to himself the right to negotiate the surrender with his adversaries, being no longer present in the city a higher civil or ecclesial authority than he was.
After the servants had offered wine of cherries and sweets made with sultanas, at the Cardinals nod, they withdrew and closed the three men alone in the study.
«You have gone too far. The agreements were that you would find no obstacles and you would have to kill Franciolini and his son, taking over the city. An easy conquest, instead for days and days you sowed terror, destruction and death», thundered the Cardinal addressed to the two Dukes.
«No self-respecting army, especially if made up of mercenaries, renounces the spoils of war», replied Della Rovere in a calm tone, almost bored, concentrating his gaze on the nail of the little finger of his right hand, perhaps regretting the fact that during the fighting this had broken. «We kept our word. Now you keep yours, and we will retire in good order, leaving you the undisputed Lord of this city.»
«So be it!», continued the Baldeschi, swallowing the toad, and still satisfied in his heart of how the operation had gone. If several of our fellow citizens had left us, worse for them, it was no big deal. «As promised, I will intercede with the Holy Father so that you, Grand Duke Della Rovere, may have your lands and title returned. You may retire to Urbino and be respected forever by your subjects. As for Ancona, dear Duke, within a month I shall have ten thousand gold florins poured into the coffers of your city, which will serve to enlarge and fortify the port, but the merchants of the city of Jesi must be guaranteed a commercial port of call. And now, withdraw your armies.»
Francesco Maria Della Rovere finally gave the order to his troops to leave the city. The invaders left with a caravan of a thousand beasts loaded with all Gods goods, as well as a large lot of money, valuables and artillery pieces. For his part, the Montacuto, not fully trusting the word of the Cardinal, withdrew the bulk of the army, but left a garrison in Jesi, which would leave only after the defeated city had paid what was agreed.
In those days, Artemio Baldeschi had been too focused on the course of events, to look after what his sister and niece were doing, and he had not even noticed that the girl had disappeared since that famous Thursday evening. The two maids, the blonde and the brunette, Mira and Pinuccia, who were waiting for the Cardinals sure rant the moment he finally noticed her, were well aware of her absence. The two maids knew very well that, from that evening, Lucia was locked up in the Franciolinis house, intent on curing Andrea, who had been seriously wounded in the clash with the enemy, and they knew very well that if the girls uncle found out, he would be even more furious.
On the evening of the party, Lucia, having finished dressing, had gone out onto the balcony of the palace overlooking the square below to watch the procession of the nobleman Franciolini arriving on the opposite side, from Via delle Botteghe. It was dusk and it seemed that everything was going well, that everything was quiet, and the bad feeling she had felt just before had already vanished. But suddenly, from Via del Fortino, more and more armed men had begun to appear, more and more numerous, who had immediately engaged in battle with the men in the procession following the Peoples Capitan. He had seen his beloved Andrea struck by arrows, and had seen Guglielmo shot dead from behind. That coward with a huge sword had taken advantage of his moment of distraction, for having seen his wounded son, to hit him from behind. Lucia could not watch helplessly that horror, she had to run to Andreas aid, who beyond the arrows, was oppressed by the weight of his horse that was ruined on him, perhaps lifeless. She rushed down the stairs and gained the entrance hall; she was about to open the front door when she realized that the fighting was raging throughout the square and that it was not appropriate to go out of there. She entered the stables and spotted the side service door, the one used by the stable-keepers, which overlooked the alley. The wooden door was bolted with a bolt from the inside, it was easy to open it and find herself in a dark and smelly alley a few meters away from the ancient Roman cistern. A few steps and she would have been in the Piazza, on the side of the church of St. Florian. To avoid being noticed by the crowd of fighters, and cross the square unscathed, he had to use a stratagem. Just a few days earlier, her grandmother had taught her a sort of invisibility spell. Not that it made her invisible in the true sense of the word, but it made her go unnoticed by others. She hoped that it would work, recited the formula and began to cross the square, always keeping close to the walls, first of the convent, then of St. Florian Church, then those of a recently built building, the Ghislieri Palace, arriving at the corner where both Via del Fortino and Via delle Botteghe appeared in the square. If she had arrived there thanks to the spell of invisibility or because no one had taken care of her, so busy in the battle, she was not allowed to know. The fact is that she had come to the square with her agonizing love. As many as four arrows had hit him, two in his right leg, one in his left shoulder, the last one passing through his right arm at the biceps muscle. He had lost a lot of blood, and was in a state of semi-unconsciousness, his left leg crushed against the pavement by the weight of the horses torso. Lucia focused on the dead beast, ordering with her mind her partial levitation. The change of position of the animal was almost imperceptible, but it was enough that, starting to pull Andrea by grabbing him under the armpits, the girl managed to free him from that unfortunate position. The young mans eyes, as if by magic, regained light, staring at the girls eyes for a moment that she thought sublime, then turned backwards, while Andrea lost consciousness completely. Lucia did not despair, she placed two fingers on her beloveds jugular shower and could feel a faint pulse.
All is not lost, she thought. Life hasnt abandoned him yet! But I must act quickly if Im to get him to safety.
Trusting in her powers, but also and above all in the power of despair and in the deep love that Andreas inspired to her, she began to drag his inert body, realizing that she was not even making a superhuman effort. She extended the spell of invisibility to her young love and headed down the Longobard Coast to reach Franciolinis Palace. None of the men who were fighting in the street gave them a glance, continuing to cross their weapons and fight as if Lucia, with her heavy burden, did not even exist. When she stood in front of the door of Andreas house, she laid her lifeless body on the ground and dwelt once again on the decorated tile that had intrigued her so much, the one representing a seven-pointed pentacle. But it was not the time to let herself be taken by distractions. She grabbed the clapper attached to the door and began to knock with how much strength she still had. One of the servants at Franciolinis house, a muscular dark-skinned man with a turban on his head, whom the Peoples Captain had bought as a slave on one of his trips to Barcelona, opened the door just a crack to make sure that no enemies were knocking at the door. When he realized the situation, in the blink of an eye, he let the girl in and dragged the young master inside.