The Spy who Sank the Armada (Sir Anthony Standen Adventures Book 1) by David West

Author:David West [West, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David V.S. West
Published: 2021-11-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

1580 – 1587, Florence

It was on another beautiful day in late July that he reached the crest of a hill and caught his first glimpse of Florence. It was magnificent. The city nestled in the valley of the river Arno, and spread over both banks, although the main city was on the opposite side of the river to him. The city had a massive wall with battlements running around the perimeter on both sides of the river. He could see a tower and city gate in the wall ahead of him. From there, he saw a road leading to a covered bridge with what looked like two storeys above the bridge deck. From there, the road led past a complex of grand buildings, one of which had a tall tower, and then to a domed cathedral. He urged Lightning forward, and they rode down to the city gate. He showed a sentry his letter of introduction and was given directions to the Palazzo Vecchio, which, it turned out, was the building with the tall tower. He crossed the bridge, which had shops on either side, and rode up to the door of the palace. He dismounted, tied Lightning to a post, and presented his letter to a sentry. The sentry called to someone else who was given the letter and went off inside the palace.

After what seemed like an hour, the man who had taken his letter from Mary Queen of Scots returned.

‘The Grand Duke will see you. Please follow me.’

‘What about my horse?’ Anthony asked, stroking Lightning’s mane.

‘He will be taken care of.’ The man turned to one of the sentries. ‘Take the horse to the stables and see it is fed and watered.’ Turning back to Anthony, he continued, ‘This way, signor, come with me.’ They entered the palace, passed through a courtyard, and then went up a flight of stairs. They went into an extraordinarily grand hall. Anthony had thought that Hampton Court Palace was grand, but this was in a different class. Anthony stopped and gazed around him and up at the ceiling. ‘It is the Hall of the Five Hundred, signor, where the council meets. The frescoes and the ceiling paintings are all by Vasari. This way, signor.’ At the end of the hall, the man knocked on a door and opened it. This was a much smaller room, but elaborately decorated. There were no windows to provide views outside, but small windows admitted light just below the roof. ‘Your Grace, here is the Englishman, Sir Anthony Standen.’ The Grand Duke was seated at a table with all manner of spirit burners, crucibles, and porcelain jars, together with four large books. The Grand Duke turned to face them.

‘Thank you, Vinta, that will be all. Sir Anthony, Queen Mary, was a good friend of my late wife’s. She says in her letter that she owes you her life and that you are a master linguist. What languages do you speak, other than English?’

‘Your Grace,’ Anthony

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