Courtesan by Diane Haeger

Author:Diane Haeger
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780307347091
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2006-07-25T04:00:00+00:00

IN THE ENDLESS DAYS which Catherine de Medici had spent alone since her arrival in France, the realms of astrology and prophecy had begun to consume her. She too had heard the gossip that the King was considering her divorce and nothing but fantasy held any real hope. Thank the dear Lord for Ruggieri.

“If only Henri would get me with a child. . .” she moaned as she paced back and forth in velvet slippers.

The chamber her Italian mystic, Giuffrido Ruggieri, occupied was dark. The windows were draped with long, black sheets of silk. Hundreds of long, white tapers burned throughout the day and spilled their liquid wax onto the tables, onto sconces, and onto the mantel above the fireplace. The room glowed. The bureaus were peppered with amulets and talismans. On the table near the fire were dozens of jars filled with hysop, citronella and valerian. Other smaller earthen jars were not marked. There were ancient, tattered books on the subjects of the stars and alchemy scattered open on the bed and on the tiled floor.

“If only I could have a child, then I am certain he would accept me as his wife. Is there not something you can give me? Some potion?”

Ruggieri moved toward the cluttered table. “I can give you something, child, but if you do not bed with him, it shall be of no use.”

Her eyes brightened and she bolted toward him from her chair. “Let me worry about that. Just tell me what I must do!”

Ruggieri’s thin face was pale from the long hours he had spent in darkened chambers. His hair and beard were long and white. After contemplating the Dauphine’s troubled face for a moment, he turned toward his table and began opening jars. Catherine neared but recoiled at the pungent aroma which wafted from them.

“What is it?”

“Sheep’s urine,” he replied and opened another vessel. The liquid inside was a gray-blue color and more foul-smelling than the first. He looked up at Catherine with a half smile, Before she could inquire further, he said, “It is best not to ask. If you mean to cure yourself you shall have to drink it.” Then he lowered his head to his work. In the space of half an hour, he had mixed together an elixir of sheep’s urine, rabbit’s blood and mare’s milk that had been widely constituted as a philtre; a potion thought by the ancient alchemists to arouse sexual passion. After she had drunk it, Ruggieri smiled. A bit of the mixture framed her lips. He daubed it with his sleeve.

“Your Prince returns from battle tonight, yes?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Then go to him, child. And with God’s help and mine, you shall be filled with his child by morning’s light.”

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