Stefano Vignaroli - The Bronze Crown

The news, still unknown to most of those present, even because it was only partly true, had its effect and the buzz began to rise in the crowd, forcing Lucia to raise her voice, almost to the point of feeling pain in her throat.

«As I was saying, this is good for us. We have every right to expel the Cardinal’s exiled vicars. And we will do so without bloodshed. I already know I have the support of the Pope, to whom I have sent missives on the matter, through messengers who are already on their way to Rome. Father Ignazio Amici, the Dominican Inquisitor, is already packing his bags, but rest assured that he won’t be the only one to leave the city in the coming days. And we’ll have a Bishop from Jesi again, Cardinal Ghislieri. Go on, then, lay down your weapons, go home and sleep soundly. Also because - and this is a solemn promise on my part - tomorrow morning I will go through that door, yes, the door of the Government’s Palace. I will present myself to the Council of the Best and claim the office that is rightfully mine, for having been promised in marriage to Andrea Franciolini: I will be YOUR CAPTAIN OF THE PEOPLE!»

The enthusiasm exploded among the bystanders, those who were on their knees rose up, everyone abandoned tools and weapons in their hands, someone headed towards the young noblewoman to lift her and carry her in triumph along Via delle Botteghe to Piazza del Mercato. Lucia, lifted up by the arms of some energetic men, smiled, and her smile illuminated everything and everyone. At a certain point even the bells of the various churches began to ring festively. When the procession arrived in front of Palazzo Baldeschi, Lucia asked to be put to the ground, because she was very tired and wanted to return to her home to rest.

«Go now, and come back tomorrow to celebrate the new Captain of the People and the new Bishop of Jesi.»

As the crowd dispersed and Lucia was about to cross the threshold of her family palace, many did not escape the movements there, at the entrance of Palazzo Ripanti. Cardinal Cesarini’s vicar was hurriedly loading his luggage onto a horse-drawn cart.

The bastard has understood and is already leaving!, she said to herself. It’s better that way. I’m not so sure I can control everyone who claims his head.

The emotions of that day had been so great that Lucia sank into a deep sleep, without having even had dinner. She would have liked to take a hot bath before going to bed, but at the palace she no longer had a maid to take care of her. Moreover, since she had preferred to adopt the country residence for the girls, she had moved most of the servants there, and in the austere Baldeschi palace there remained very few servants, mostly male, who took care of the kitchens and stables.

She was awakened by an insistent knock on the door of her room, when the sun had not yet risen. She struggled to get out of bed, got herself settled as best she could, and opened the door by a crack, to see who was disturbing her at that unusual hour. A young boy, still beardless, but dressed in full dress, stockings, and with a long feathered hat on his head, did a reverence and tried to apologize for the time, almost stammering.

«Excuse me so much, Madame, but what I must tell you is of the utmost urgency. The executioner sent me from Piazza della Morte.»

Lucia’s throat went up and her mind, as sleepy as it was, suddenly became clear again, remembering that this was the time decided for Mira’s execution. What was going on? Why had the executioner sent this young man to trouble her?

«Wait a few moments, boy. I’ll make myself presentable, and I’ll be right with you. Take a seat in one of the chairs along the corridor. I’ll be as quick as I can.»

She styled her hair, put on a sober dress to give her freedom of movement, and soon reached the young man in the corridor.

«Well? What’s going on?»

«The executioner wants you in Piazza della Morte.»

«Why on earth?» replied Lucia outraged. «I made it clear that I would never want to see my handmaiden executed! So why disturb me?»

«There is a problem. The last wish of a condemned person is sacred and must be granted. The executioner cannot proceed until the victim has been satisfied. It is an unwritten law, but for Gerard, our executioner, it is a matter of honor.»

«And what have I to do with it, pray? What is Mira’s last wish?»

«That is the point. Your handmaiden has asked that you be near her on the point of death. You must come.»

«That’s out of the question. I swore to myself that I would never witness a capital execution again.»

«In this case I’ll have to go and wake up Judge Uberti, who won’t be very happy...»

Having understood the antiphon, and knowing that in those days it was better not to make trouble with the authorities of the old guard, Lucia decided to follow the young man in Death’s Square. At the end of the day, a few hours later she would show up at the Government’s palace and would forever give greetings to the old “caryatids”, which would no longer continue to hold public office. So it was better not to start antagonizing Judge and others ahead of time.

Walking along Via delle Botteghe in the dampness of the early dawn, Lucia squeezed herself into her dress, shivering with cold, even though it was already the height of the summer season. She crossed Porta della Rocca, continuing to follow the boy who was leading the way, but when she caught a glimpse of her young handmaiden, her heart leapt, she felt it pulsating in her throat and could not hold back the tears that were trying to gush from her eyes. Mira’s head was already resting on the stump. The executioner was there beside her, with the hood on his head and the sharp axe resting on the ground. He hadn’t even bothered to pick up the condemned woman’s hair in a ponytail or a bun, because the previous day Father Ignazio Amici’s torturers had thought of having it cut almost to nothing. The noblewoman felt the pleading gaze of her handmaiden upon her and could not help but approach her, caressing the back of her neck and bringing her lips closer to the girl’s cheek.

The servant lowered her gaze and turned to her old mistress with a thread of voice.

«Now I can die happy. I have you next door. I know you have spared me a more atrocious torment and I wanted to thank you personally before I die. Pray for me, and commend my soul to the Lord.»

Lucia took Mira’s hand, came closer and whispered words into her ear, so that neither the executioner nor the boy who had accompanied her could hear.

«I would also like to spare you this torment. I have some gold coins with me. I could pay for the silence of these two. I’ll send the boy to the carpenter to ask him to make a chest, saying this was your last wish: to be buried inside a sarcophagus. The executioner won’t kill you, but he’ll tell everyone he did it. I will have him fill the chest with stones, so that it weighs as if it contained your body, and I will have it placed in the basement of the Church of Death. No one’s going to look inside. You will run down the hill and reach the convent of the Poor Clares of the Valley. Dressed as a nun, no one will recognize you. Let some time pass and then get away from Jesi. You can make a new life somewhere else...»

«No, my lady. Death no longer frightens me. My life ends here, today, on this square, on this stump. See that my body is given a proper burial.»

Mira looked at Gerardo, nodding her head. The executioner understood at once. The condemned woman’s wish had been granted. We could proceed. Lucia stepped back, let go of Mira’s hand, as the axe rose. She looked at the executioner’s eyes through the holes drilled in the hood and saw them shiny. But she did not have time to verify the truthfulness of her sensation, because with a sharp blow the instrument fell on the victim’s neck. The head rolled on the pavement, while the rest of the body was shaken by convulsions for a few brief moments, until it stiffened and fell sideways. Blood splashes from the neck grazed Lucia, but not a drop went to soil her clothes.