The Silkworm Keeper: A captivating historical novel of Renaissance Italy by Deborah Swift

Author:Deborah Swift [Swift, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quire Books
Published: 2021-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

The three women crammed into a crowded wherry to take them up the Tiber towards the city. Giulia was overwhelmed, both with the parting from the sisters and with the sheer number of people. The quietness of life in two convents hadn’t prepared her for the noise and bustle of all these strangers.

A fat-bellied cardinal with a face like a hog tried to engage her in conversation, his gaze straying to Rosetta, whose pale profile was turned away from him. He had a lascivious smile and his hands pawed at his own fat knees. Giulia tried to discourage him by looking stonily at him.

‘I’m Cardinal Muratori. Where have you come from, Sister?’ he asked.

‘From the south,’ Giulia said vaguely, and turned her head to avoid eye contact.

‘Which convent?’ he asked.

‘The Convent of St Ursula,’ she said, curtly. A name she conjured on the spot.

Zaneta was about to protest when Giulia saw Rosetta clamp her hand on her sister’s and give her a warning look.

The cardinal smiled. ‘There are places unaccompanied ladies should avoid. If you don’t know the city, Sister, I’d be happy to guide you and your companions away from unsavoury places. I could take you to the best-loved sights in Rome,’ he said. ‘The Colosseum, where Christians fought for their lives against wild beasts; the pagan stones and tombs of the Via Appia.’ He simpered at Rosetta.

‘We will not be long enough in Rome,’ Rosetta said, and turned away.

It was an obvious snub. After that, the cardinal took the hint and stared sullenly at his feet.

None of them spoke further; they did not wish to draw anyone’s attention, and besides, they were too exhausted. Night had fallen and now the only thing Giulia could see of the city were the walls illuminated by torches and the flash of moving carriage lamps. As they came into the heart of the city, the smells of the city washed over them – the aroma of hot food cooking, the thick atmosphere of dirt and dung and smoke.

The cardinal got off close to the stairs for St Peter’s, and Giulia watched his large rump retreating with relief. As they sailed onwards, the banks of the river were lit up with a million tiny lights as people sat in the riverside taverns and trattoria to watch the passing trade.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Rosetta said.

‘I didn’t know it was so big.’ Zaneta was staring around. ‘I wish our sisters could see it.’

‘One day. But for now they’ll be safer where they are. Sister Iseppa will take care of them. We can send for them once we’re settled.’

‘You mean when we know no one will arrest us,’ Zaneta said.

‘Keep your voice down,’ Rosetta said. ‘And for heaven’s sake, think before you open your big mouth.’

‘We must keep out of sight,’ Giulia said, ‘until it all dies down.’

‘As long as it’s not in a convent,’ Rosetta protested. ‘You promised no nunnery walls.’

Giulia had no time to answer, for the ferryman had pulled up at a wharf near a bridge and they were all to get off at the stairs.

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