Omens of Death by Richard Kurti

Author:Richard Kurti [Kurti, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

34: GRIEF

Pope Alexander VI crumpled to the floor as if the muscles in his legs had been severed. He didn’t make a sound; he didn’t cry out in pain or grief. He just crumpled.

Instinctively Domenico moved forward to help the man, but Cardinale Riario brandished a forbidding hand. “You do not touch the Holy Father unless he commands it.”

“But he needs help.”

“Not from you.”

Of the three cardinals present, only Riario had the authority to move. Slowly he circled the grieving pontiff, then knelt next to him. “Allow me to help Your Holiness.”

The Pope reached out and grasped Riario’s hand, but the simple human touch unleashed his grief. Alexander wailed with a pain and sorrow that was so primal, it made Domenico shiver.

“My son. My son. My son. My beloved son.” Tears ran down his contorted face; his body rocked back and forth as it tried to expel the anguish. “All is darkness now … all is darkness.”

It was terrible to witness. No father deserved this, not even a Borgia.

Gently, Cardinale Riario helped the Pope into a chair. “Shall I dismiss everyone, Holy Father?”

“No.”

“You should rest.”

“Who did this? I want to know who is responsible! He must be punished without mercy.”

“Very good.” Riario took a step back, then pointedly turned to Domenico. “Now you may speak.”

Domenico hesitated. He knew that if he got this wrong, he wouldn’t last the day. “Your Holiness, the people who murdered your son … we believe they may be the same ones who murdered Barberini and blinded the monks.”

Alexander blinked, struggling to understand. “But the Ottoman spies, Bartolo … they are in prison.”

“It appears they might not be guilty after all. This was found on your son’s body.” He handed the small piece of paper to Riario, who read it, then passed it to the Pope.

“This is very disappointing,” Riario said coldly.

“It is, Your Eminence.”

“I thought you had evidence to prove their guilt?”

“So did we.”

“And they confessed,” the Pope added. “They confessed!”

“Not to us. They confessed to your own, personal inquisitors, Holy Father.”

A dreadful calm descended as all eyes burned into Domenico.

“How dare you insinuate —”

“I am just trying to explain —”

“Silence!” Riario’s voice echoed around the room. Everyone tensed.

Alexander took a silk handkerchief from the pocket of his robe and slowly dried his eyes. As he regained his composure, a terrible resolve settled over him. “If my inquisitors found the Ottoman spies guilty, then they must be guilty.”

The pressure of the truth would not allow Domenico to remain silent. “Forgive me, Holy Father, but they were all in prison when your son was murdered.”

“Then there must be more out there. Ones you have missed. Through carelessness, or negligence.”

“The note implies none of these crimes had anything to do with the Ottomans, Holy Father.”

“Let me repeat: if my inquisitors found the Ottoman spies guilty, then they must be guilty.”

“Yet there are serious doubts about the integrity of those confessions.”

“Doubts from who?” Riario said with contempt. “You?”

“At the very least, those men deserve a trial.”

“It is not for you to instruct the Holy Father.

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