Stefano Vignaroli - In The Lion's Sign

The first to disembark were the servants, who provided to stack on the pier trunks and personal belongings of the noble warriors who had accompanied in navigation. The servants of the castle rushed out, both to transfer the luggage of each one in the rooms already assigned to them, and to direct the newly disembarked servants to the wings of the castle reserved for them, so that they could refresh themselves, rest and, if they wanted, take advantage of the company of some tramp. Immediately afterwards the sailors went ashore, who were soon directed to the openings that gave access to the town of Sirmione, on the southern side of the walls of the dock. They couldn’t wait to reach the taverns, to feast, drink wine and lure some beautiful villagers. The women of the Venetian and Lombard lands were in fact renowned throughout the peninsula for being passionate and always available lovers. And then they spoke with that singing idiom that would open the heart even to the most gruff of sailors. And all for a few coins, much less than what one was accustomed to pay in other areas for the sexual favours of certain damsels.

The last to get off the big boat were the noble warriors, each escorted by his own attendants. One after the other, they crossed the threshold of the large saloon where they were welcomed by the Duke Della Rovere, who invited them to bid farewell to their subordinates and sit at the table set. Soon it would be a feast, the food would certainly not be lacking and the wine would be flowing. At a nod from the Duke, some handmaids with colourful transparent dresses, which left nothing to the imagination, began to dance sinuously on one side of the room, to the rhythm of a lullaby reminiscent of exotic atmospheres. Women took prisoners and made slaves during the campaigns of the Serenissima against the Ottoman Empire. Women who came from the lands of the Near East and who knew how to make their bellies dance independently from the rest of the body. At a second nod of the Duke, the girls got rid of the coloured tunics and kept wearing only tiny costumes to cover breasts and pubis. The music changed and the young maids, one more beautiful than the other, one more sensual than the other, began to perform the provocative belly dance. In the meantime, the servants poured over the sumptuous table all sorts of things, from hare pies to roast wild boar, from sweet-and-sour game to jugged rabbits, from vegetables of various colours to chicken and beef broths flavoured with spices. The jugs of wine did not have time to make their appearance on the table that already had to be replaced with other full.

Francesco Maria reviewed the faces of his guests. The Duke of Orvieto, with a chicken leg in his hand and a mug of wine in the other, had already approached one of the dancers, throwing kisses with greasy lips towards her. That one, for all answer, had got rid of the upper part of the costume and had remained bare-breasted, continuing the dance in an even more provocative way. The Marquis of Villamarina, for his part, had sat down at the table, with the serious intention of eating and drinking to his heart’s content, almost without regard to the dance performance. But he shook his head to the rhythm of the music. Messer Vittorio dei Gherardeschi, Count of Hunting and Lord of the lands of Polverigi, looked around a little lost, as if everything that was happening in the salon did not concern him at all. He approached Francesco Maria, greeted him with respect and asked to be accompanied to his lodgings, as he was very tired and wanted to rest. The Duke Della Rovere had scrutinized everyone, but had not yet been able to locate Andrea. The latter, in a completely unexpected way, entered at a certain point in the hall from the opposite entrance to the one from which all the others had entered, the one used by those who came from the mainland, from the town of Sirmione. Andrea appeared tried, he was very pale and had dark circles around his eyes.

«My God, Andrea! It seems that ships are your worst enemy!», and so saying Francesco Maria approached his friend, holding him in an affectionate embrace. «Luckily I have other plans for you, and tomorrow we will talk about it in all tranquillity. Now have a seat and enjoy my hospitality to the full. You will be able to restore body and spirit, and tomorrow you will feel like another man!»

He saw Andrea looking around, admiring the table set, casting his eyes on the oriental dancers who, now almost all with their breasts uncovered, some even completely naked, were indulging in the repressed desires of noble warriors. Then the young Captain of arms approached the table, picked some olives in brine, drank a glass of wine and expressed the desire to leave.

«Tell me about the trip, Andrea! How come you got off the ship and came here from land?», Francesco tried to hold him back.

«My dear friend, you said it yourself a little while ago. We will talk about it calmly tomorrow. Now I am very tired and I only wish to retire to rest.»

«Do you want me to send you company in your room? Those exotic beauties are capable of resurrecting a corpse!»

«But not me. At this moment I would not be able to touch a woman, other than my betrothed, even with one finger. Pretend I’m accepting your offer and take the girl in your room.»

Francesco Maria burst into laughter.

«I cannot! In my rooms there is already Eleonora. I too, these days, am not able to touch any other woman who is not my beloved.»

CHAPTER 4

“Everyone is what he pursues.

I am what I am, I am what I love,

I love what I am.”

(Elio Savelli)

Andrea still could not understand why he had followed the Duke’s men without blinking an eye, just moments before the wedding ceremony with his beloved Lucia. His powerful white steed, still dressed for a party, was biting the road, without struggling at all to keep up with the armigers who were heading beyond the Esino river, towards Mount Returri. The ride was easy, without trappings, without even hiding it on the head. The thick blonde hair of Andrea caressed the air fluttering. The sleeves of the crimson doublet swelled and deflated at the whims of the wind. But Andrea’s mind was in turmoil. Thoughts incapable of being held in check crowded into his head and overwhelmed his temples, hoping to be taken into consideration.

«You have always pursued the hope of being able to unite in marriage with Lucia. And now the time had finally come, what do you do? You leave her there, on the churchyard of the Church!», the first thought began to torture him. «Remember, Andrea! Everyone is what he pursues in life! Not to reach one’s goals means to fail miserably.»

«I am what I am!», Andrea defended himself against himself. «I love to be what I am. And I am a man of arms, and as such I must obey those who command me. So I made the right choice. One cannot shirk one’s duty because of a damsel.»

«You love what you are, but you are also what you love», a second thought replied to him, without giving him a break, in an incredible play on words. «And who you love is Lucia. With her you should be one body and one soul. What difference was there in following these men now, immediately, rather than tomorrow, or tomorrow the other or in a week’s time? And your little girl, Laura, to whom you gave smiles until this morning, making her understand that now she could trust the affection of a father, what will she think of you? That you’re a coward, that you escape love and affection depending on how the wind turns. Was it not licit to at least explain to her why you are leaving?»

«I'm not a pussy, I’m a Captain of Arms!», Andrea’s warrior spirit replied with vigour. «If these men were in a great hurry to take me with them, there must be a reason, and a very serious one, from what I could read in the letter sent to me by the Duke. A warrior does not shirk his duty. Never! Much less for matters of love. Love can wait, the enemy can’t.»