Stefano Vignaroli - The Bronze Crown

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Year 2018: from the icon of the Palace of the Lordship of Jesi the bronze crown to symbolize the royalty of the city, always above the rampant lion, disappears . A new enigma to be solved for the scholar Lucia Balleani who, having finally met the love in the young archaeologist Andrea Franciolini, she has to rediscover with him some unknown aspects of the life of her ancestor Lucia Baldeschi. So let's return, together with our two heroes, back in time to half a millennium, to discover how people lived among the alleys, squares and palaces of a beautiful city in the Marche region, famous in the world, then as now, for being the birthplace of Emperor Frederick the II. ”But neither one of them, looking up over the portal and dwelling on the rampant lion's shrine, could escape a detail, which brought an exclamation to their mouths, almost in unison, as if they were one person: ”The crown!”.
Bernardino, the printer, is lying in desperate conditions in a room at Santa Lucia hospital. Cardinal Baldeschi died suddenly and left the city government vacant. Will young Lucia Baldeschi finally take the reins of government and prevent Jesi from falling into the hands of enemies who have always been pressing at his doors? Certainly, one cannot leave the government in the hands of four corrupt nobles or, worse, entrust it to the papal legate sent by the Pope. But Lucia is a woman, and it's not easy to take on roles of power, traditionally handed down to men. And Andrea, her love, what happened to her, after escaping the scaffold and disappearing in the wake of the Mancino? Will he return to the scene to help his beloved? Or will controversial events lead him to other shores? And we also remember the parallel story, that of the scholar Lucia Balleani, our contemporary, who perhaps has finally met the love of hes life, the one who will take her by hand to discover with the reader new arcane secrets. Love and death, esotericism and logic, good and evil. These are just some of the ingredients that give rhythm to this new investigation, focused on the mysterious disappearance of the bronze crown, once placed above the rampant lion of the main palace of Jesi, that of the Signoria. Once again, the past is intertwined with the present, through the parallel vicissitudes of the protagonists of the present day and their namesake ancestors. A comely lady and haughty regent of the Aesina Republic, Lucia Baldeschi is divided between the obligations of the reason of state and love for the fugitive knight, the brave leader Andrea Franciolini. Between history and legend, the action ranges from the severe buildings and dark secret passages of an underground Jesi, to the open countryside of its Contado, populated by shepherds and monks during the day and animated by magical rites during moonlight. Then there are the intrigues of the palace, the feuds between the lords and the battles; those between the armies and against the pirates, from Urbino to Senigallia, up to some of the most suggestive gorges of the Apennines. The sixteenth century, characterized by light and shadow, is divided between the cult of reason and the practice of esotericism, of which the characters of the novel are the faithful mirror. In their demeanour, as well as in their merits and defects. In their footsteps, among sensational discoveries and brilliant intuitions, the quarrelsome lovers, Lucia and Andrea, from the Jesi of the twenty-first century will come to the truth in the sign of a timeless love.

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After a moment of absolute silence, a cock crowed in the distance. It was getting daylight, when the Piazza della Morte was crossed by a prolonged cry, a cry coming from the bowels of Lucia Baldeschi.

«Noooooooooooo...!»

CHAPTER 7

The mounts were fast and didn’t fear the climbs, descents and paths in the bush. So, to avoid the centre of Ancona, Andrea and Gesualdo had crossed the narrow valley between the hills, climbed up the Taglio di Candia and, leaving the Rocca di Montesicuro on their left, descended towards Paterno. From there, they had soon reached the castle of the Torrette, possession of the peaceful Counts Bonarelli. The doors of the castle, as usual, were open, and therefore Gesualdo beckoned his young friend to cross the inner courtyard without stopping to give many explanations.

«Hey, you! Slow down and get off your horses. Don’t you know your manners, you peasant peasants?», a guard apostrophized them, taking an arrow from his quiver and arming his crossbow, while the two knights were raising the dust of the yard and scaring away anyone who was in their way.

Gesualdo lifted the banner with the insignia of the Duke of Montacuto, inviting Andrea to do the same, to make it clear who was meddling in their path. The guard peered at them in doggedness, spat on the ground, but lowered his weapon. In a few moments, the two knights came out of the northern door of the castle and found themselves on the wide dirt road running along the coast up to the mouth of the Esino river.

By now the sun was high, when Gesualdo spoke to Andrea for the first time. The sea, on their right, was crossed by the splendid reflections given by the sun’s rays. Such was the glow that one risked blinding oneself looking at the expanse of water. On the left the hill sloped steeply down to the road, sometimes with rocky ledges, sometimes with the last offshoots of an intricate forest of chestnut oaks, oak and downy oaks.

«Soon we will be at Rocca Priora. It is Jesi’s territory, but I have some friends there. We’ll stop for refreshments and ask about the safety of the route. We know very well that some ugly faces should have passed before us. If they’re smart people, they shouldn’t be noticed. But I had the impression that those two were fools», said Gesulado, pulling the reins and slowing down his brake pad.

Andrea adjusted and the horses went from a fast gallop to a more moderate pace, to a trot that forced the riders to squeeze their knees and follow the animals’ movements.

«Fools and drunks, but no less dangerous for this, on the contrary!» replied Andrea, taking a look at the rock they were approaching. «Look, Gesualdo! Doesn’t that seem strange to you? It’s a border outpost, but there’s no carving on the guard’s walkway.»

He didn’t have time to finish the sentence, and his steed soaring as two arrows had come hissing and had stuck in the ground just a few steps from his legs. Andrea had to hold on tight so as not to be thrown off, but he stayed in the saddle, looked towards his old companion and understood at once what Gesualdo was planning to do. The latter had the horse discarded on the right, until it turned on itself, to give the impression to the enemy that he was beating in retreat. Andrea imitated him, going after him. They turned back for a short stretch on the road, then bent inland and entered the intricate riparian forest, mostly poplars and willows. While the poplars stood high, the willows offered good protection to the two horsemen, who moved with circumspection, trying to make sure that their passage did not shake the treetops more than the wind did, they reached the Esino river, which at that time of the year was rather low, because the season had been dry for some time. They had their horses submerged in water to go on the other bank and reach the Rocca without crossing the bridge they were about to cross when they were attacked.

«Be careful. The other bank is marshy ground. The horses could sink in the mud and we would be forced to abandon them. And it wouldn’t be good to stay on foot. We have to stay in the water. Do you see that channel? It takes the river water to the pass that surrounds the rock. We’ll reach the back of the castle through the moat. I remember there’s a back door there, which won’t be hard to unhinge. It’s a wooden door, which allows you to get into the basement. We don’t know what happened. Maybe our two “friends” have surprised the guards and now they are inside the castle, but I’m not sure. I heard with my own ears that they would be waiting for us at the tower of Montignano, which is a much less protected garrison and is already in the territory of Senigallia.»

«And what do you think happened here?»

«Perhaps the castle, without our knowledge, was the victim of an enemy attack. Perhaps it fell into the hands of the soldiers of Duke Della Rovere. I don’t know, but I’m sure of one thing: whoever threw those arrows at us is inside the fortress. They were not thrown from above, from the guard’s walkways, but from some slits that open between the first and second floor. If we are lucky, we will enter the fortress from the cellars and take these enemies of ours by surprise, which in my opinion should not be numerous.»

«No, Gesualdo, it could be suicide. We don’t know who we’re dealing with, and we don’t know how many men we’ll find in there. Rather we try to slip out the back of the castle and head north.»

«Perhaps you are right, my young friend. I see you have the mind of a skilled strategist, rather than the impulsiveness of an old warrior like myself, who always seeks confrontation at any cost. And that is good.»

Meanwhile, they had reached the moat surrounding the fortress and were now under the strangely lowered drawbridge, despite the hostilities shown from the inside. Always remaining in the water and making as little noise as possible, they circumvented the building, reaching the side overlooking the sea, on which no windows opened, in order not to offer easy access to pirates coming from the Adriatic.

«At this point it should not be risky to leave the rampart», whispered The Mancino, trying to keep the tone of voice as low as possible. «We will find ourselves in the gravelly ground that leads from here to the sea shore.»

In fact, in that area the ground was not marshy, and the debris brought by the river Esino over the centuries had formed a beach of gravel and pebbles, very beautiful to see, as insidious for the hooves and legs of horses. As the animals were dry, the horsemen spurred them on to move away at a fast pace, but the gravelly bottom hindered the movements of the animals, which the more they tried to start, the more they sank among the stones. At a certain point, Gesualdo’s horse bent on its front legs, remaining on its knees: the horseman, unbalanced forward, was thrown from the saddle and found himself on the ground, to get back on his feet with a skilful somersault. He returned to the horse, took up the reins, shouted at him to get up and jumped back into the saddle.

«I see with pleasure that you are still as nimble as a young man, despite your age and despite having the use of only one arm. Congratulations. I was right to want someone like you at my side for this perilous journey!», said Andrea, who despite the situation had not lost his spirit.

But the hustle and bustle, the noise of the horses’ paws on the gravel, the human screams and the equine nitrites, had certainly not gone unnoticed from the inside of the fortress, from which at that moment three knights dressed in armour were coming out, with their hidden tight in their heads and their spears in remains.

«As he wished to prove!», said Gesualdo. «The signs are the Della Rovere’s ones. Let’s run, while there’s still time. I don’t want to be stabbed by their spears. We have a bit of an advantage. And even their horses will have a hard time galloping on the gravel. Let’s put our steeds in the pass and head north along the beach. If we keep our distance, they won’t catch up with us. As soon as possible we’ll jump inland and head towards the village of Monte Marciano. Piccolomini has always remained neutral, both towards Jesi and Senigallia. The Della Rovere thugs will not chase us.»

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