Marcus van Heller - The House of Borgia, book1

The following day, Innocent, without having regained consciousness, was still clinging weakly to life and a Hebrew physician came to his bedside, claiming to have a prescription which would save the dying prelate's life. For his task, he said, he needed the blood of young boys. The Pope's skeptical physicians eventually found him two young boys, who, for a ducat each, were prepared to give him all the blood he needed.

But so complete was the failure of his remedy that the two boys died and the physician was forced to flee to save his own life from the wrath of those who had doubted him from the beginning.

For just one more day, Innocent lay in his bed breathing very feebly. In the early hours of the following morning he was found to be breathing no more.

Cardinal Roderigo lost no time in organizing the succession. Even during the prescribed nine days of ceremonies connected with Innocent's death, he was busy arguing, offering, bargaining, encouraging toward his own ends.

On the tenth day the cardinals assembled in St. Peter's to hear the Sacred Mass of the Holy Ghost recited on the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles. They swore upon the gospels to faithfully observe their trust and the Conclave was immured.

A few days later Cardinal Roderigo Borgia was elected Pope Alexander VI. He had bargained well.

Many were the cardinals who benefited from Roderigo's election. To Cardinal Sforza went the vacated vice-chancellorship and the bishopric of Agri; to the Orsini the Church of Carthage and the legation of Marche; to Colonna the Abbey of Subiaco; to Savelli the legation of Perugia; to Raffaele Riario went Spanish benefices worth four thousand ducats yearly. They, too, had bargained well.

Lucrezia, who had played the largest part of all, was rewarded with a beautiful diamond necklace and a passionate night in her father's bed during which he mounted her five times and both were completely satisfied. She was then sent off to continue her studies under the tutors who were shocked at her provocative display of bosom and would have died of horror had they known exactly what had been displayed to the Pope before his death.

Cesare had been brought back to Rome on the news of his father's election. Cardinal Roderigo felt it only fitting that his son, whom he hoped would one day succeed him, should be present at the ceremony.

Ever since his adventure with his sister, Cesare had been in a fever heat to renew his relationship with her, but there had been no opportunity.

Over and over in his mind he had relived those furiously passionate moments by the pool, over and over he had thought of how next time he would be less embarrassed, more expert, more concerned with prolonging the pleasure. His incestuous lovemaking had given him a new awareness of women as well. In Perugia he had watched them walking down the street with their bosoms soaring, had imagined their breasts untrammeled by clothes. He had stared at the occasional traces of a round and protruding buttock under a dress such as the peasant girls wore and had longed to move up behind and place his hand on that undulating mound of firmness. He had longed for lips, for fondling hands, for the aching sensation of that body-grip on his penis-until he walked around with an almost permanent erection and a slight flush always on his face. At night he was haunted by dreams of his sister's passion-wracked body, images of other bodies. He masturbated with a new vigor. He almost wept with desire for a good screw. And on return to Rome he conceived of a daring plan to achieve the aided orgasm he so desperately needed.

The interregnum between the death of one Pope and the election of another was invariably filled with a furious outburst of lawlessness in Rome. Bands of lawbreakers would roam the streets. Murders were committed on an average of several a day, robberies took place on an unprecedented scale and rapes were so numerous that count was lost. It was this savage jungle state within the city that Cesare decided should cover his own fulfillment of his desires.

In the grounds of Cardinal Roderigo's house was a gardener's shed in which Cesare had previously noted some old, cheap clothing such as would be worn by the ordinary citizen. This, he decided, he would don one evening when his father was not at home. He would rub grime into his face, tousle his hair and, with his gold-hilted dagger in his belt under his doublet, sally out into the lawless streets in search of a woman.

It was a wild plan, he realized. It was full of dangers. He, himself, might be attacked; he might be caught in the act of rape; he might be beaten up by the city guard which functioned in a desultory fashion from time to time. But on the first count he hoped his old clothes would make him seem too worthless an object to make it worth anybody's while to assault him-and on the others he'd take a chance, so dearly did he need to plunge his dagger of genital flesh into a female sheath.

For a couple of days, while he awaited his opportunity, Cesare wandered through the city, which was calmer by daytime, watching the women who quickly came and went, or-in large bands for safety-washed their clothes down at the river's edge. He particularly frequented the poorer sections of the city as it was here that he was more likely to succeed in his plan without too many later investigations being made. And it was in one of these quarters that he found the sort of situation he had been seeking.

At dusk, he noted, at a particular spot, three goat-swains-two men and a girl-were in the habit of driving a large herd of goats from the city gates into their pen within the city. They all stayed together until a point near the Bridge of St. Angelo across the river where the girl would bid them good-night and slip across the bridge to her house which was close to the far bank. The two men would continue with the goats under the assumption that their companion was safe with only such a little distance to go alone.

Cesare made a survey of the area. His heart raced in anticipation of the deed. As he marked the spot-dangerously near her home-where he could drag her over the low parapet onto the shrub-covered, shelving bank, his breath came quickly as if he were already lying between her legs.

The girl, herself, was a peasant girl with a saucy, good-looking face and a strong, loose-limbed body with large breasts and a behind that was pert under the thin country dress she wore. She would be no easy conquest. Cesare was well aware. But he thought he could subdue her and the sight of her body, revealed in a way that only peasant clothing would allow, infused him with a nervous excitement that gave him butterflies in his stomach.

The day fixed for the crowning of the new Pope came nearer and Cardinal Roderigo spent more and more time away from his house fixing the details of the ceremony.

Cesare's chance came at last. In a sudden fit of trembling he donned the old clothes in the gardener's shed. The hose he slit between the legs-just enough so that another tug would give his organ free exit. The doublet came down far enough to hide the spot.

He stole out of the house, leaving a door to the grounds unlatched for his re-entry, hoping that no would-be robbers would discover it before he got back.

Along the main streets people were still passing in groups, sometimes singly. He avoided these more frequented places after a time and set out through the growing twilight to the poor quarter.

Narrow, cobbled streets led him down toward the river. Sometimes someone flitted quickly from one doorway to another, sending his heart into his mouth, sometimes a shutter would slam, making him jump and twice he brazened it past a group of men who peered at him in the half-light but made no move to interfere with him. At the bridge across the river he stopped and leaned on the parapet for a moment to calm himself and quell the thumping of his heart. He peered through the gloom. He was sure they hadn't yet come. Below, the river was a smooth, dark sheet, behind him odd noises rang out from the Castle of St. Angelo which towered up in ghostly form. In the distance he could still dimly see the outline of St. Peter's. There was nobody about, now. The majority of honest citizens who were able would now be safely locked behind their doors with the shutters barred.