Poison: A Novel of the Renaissance by Sara Poole

Author:Sara Poole
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Italy, Fiction, Renaissance - Italy - Rome, Lucrezia, Cesare, Women poisoners, Revenge, Cardinals, Renaissance, Historical fiction, Alexander, Historical - General, Biographical, Rome, Historical, Nobility, Fiction - Historical, Cardinals - Italy - Rome, General, Borgia, Rome (Italy), Nobility - Italy - Rome
ISBN: 9780312609832
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

20

“Francesca?” A deep voice, very low. A gentle touch on my arm. I opened my eyes. Rocco crouched beside me, his face creased with concern. Above, at the top of the steps leading to the altar, I saw faint daylight.

“What hour is it?” I asked as I struggled back to full consciousness. I had slept deeply but to little good. My mind remained fogged with exhaustion and I ached everywhere. Rocco extended a hand to help me rise. I took it, grateful for his strength and the steadiness of his presence.

“Almost prime,” he said. “Guillaume brought food and, as promised, news.”

“What news?” David demanded, waking at the same time. He rose to his feet just as though he had enjoyed a full night’s rest in a sumptuous bed.

“The city is quiet,” Rocco said. “There is no hue and cry about anyone escaping the castel last night, nor is there any sign of trouble near the ghetto or anywhere in the streets. All seems to be in order.”

A blessing, to be sure, so far as it went. Vittoro had been right: Without hard evidence of a plot to kill the Pope, Morozzi could not say anything without baring his own throat to Borgia’s revenge. However, that would not prevent him from getting the edict signed and the Jews doomed. Only Innocent’s death would do that.

“No word about the Pope?” I asked.

Rocco shook his head. “Nothing new.”

I could not believe that we had gone through so much only to fail, and yet I knew that there had never been any guarantee of success. Although I had managed to switch the blood, I could not be sure that Innocent had received it. Even if he had, it might not have affected him as it had Rebecca. On the other hand, he might yet die from his own dissipations, which were legion. Or God, in His infinite mercy, might decide to remove his servant by some other means before he could do yet more harm. With so many unknowns, there was only one course open to us.

“We have to find out what is happening at the castel,” I said, intent on setting off at once. My stomach had other ideas. Sensing food, it emitted a growl that would have done a hungry wolf proud. At the same moment, the bells rang for prime.

As we waited for the service to be over and the friars to leave the church, we devoured the bread and cheese Guillaume had brought. When the way was clear, we slipped up the steps from the crypt and out the same door through which we had entered. Emerging from the bowels of the earth, we stood blinking in a morning so bright it hurt the eyes. A fresh breeze carried the scents of the lavender fields south of the city, softening the edges of the stench that clung to us still.

Near the Pantheon, we parted. I feared for Rocco’s safety and pleaded with him not to return to his shop, but he dismissed my concern out of hand.

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