Stefano Vignaroli - The Shadow Of The Bell Tower

«By Allah and Muhammad, blessed be their name, may I be forgiven for naming them. What about the Captain?»

«The Captain is dead, and if, instead of wasting time invoking your gods, you don’t do as I say, the same end will be reserved for your young master!»

«There doesn’t seem to be much for him to do. In a few moments his soul will leave him to be reunited with that of his ancestors, and that of his father, may Allah have him in glory.»

«He’s not a Muslim, so Allah will not have him in glory. We can still do something for him. Take him into his room and lay him on his bed, then follow my instructions and leave us alone.»

Alì did exactly what Lucia ordered him to do. In the pantry he had found all the herbs the girl needed, including willow bark, whose function he was unclear about. It would never be used in the kitchen, yet her owners kept a good supply of it in carefully sealed jars. Only then the Moorish servant had realised that the pantry was more of a herbalist’s shop than a storehouse of edible things. There were those too, yes, but many of the herbs in the jars he knew well were used by Jews and sorcerers for purposes contrary to the teachings of both his religion and Catholicism. After all, the Christian God and the Muslim God were very much alike, and if a man was destined to die, his own God would take him in glory and be happy alongside him. One could not claim to save the life of one who was already destined to join his Almighty Father in the kingdom of heaven. This was what Alì thought, as he crossed the Piazza del Palio and went up the Shepherds’ Coast in great stride, taking care not to run into the scuffles that had spread so far. He stopped in front of the door indicated to him, the one on whose headboard was written “Hic est Gallus Chirurgus” 10.

Another sorcerer!, brooded Alì between himself. He calls himself a surgeon, but I know he is the brother of Lodomilla Ruggieri, the witch who burned alive in Piazza della Morte a few years ago. If I don’t pay attention and try to get away from these people, I too will end my days on a burning pile. And even my masters are in it up to their necks, I can only understand now what kind of heretics I have served for years!

Then he realized in his mind that, belonging to another religion, the Inquisition could not prosecute him, and he decided to knock. A tall, sturdy man with mighty biceps, long hair gathered at the back of his neck in a ponytail, and a beard that had not been shaved for a few days, he looked him from top to bottom. Alì was also strong: in his native country, in the upper Nile valley, he was a wrestling champion, there was no one who could beat him, and the man in front of him was unarmed, so he looked at him and told him what he had to tell.

«I see, I’ll get my tools and I’ll follow you. Wait for me here, Franciolini’s palace is a short distance away, but I prefer to make the journey in your company. The two of us could better deal with any troublemakers.»

Gallo disappeared for a few moments inside his house and reappeared with a heavy calfskin bag, which contained the tools of the trade and which, judging by their appearance, must have been very heavy. They crossed the square passing by people who were fighting bitterly. The surgeon recognized a friend of his from Jesi who was shot down with a sword and rushed to help him. But Alì was quick to pull him by the arm and make him give up his intention. It was not really the case to get noticed and engage in a battle that had taken a bad turn for the inhabitants of the city. It was more urgent to rescue his young master... Alì and Gallo quickly slipped into the door of Franciolini’s palace, which the Moor provided to bolt from the inside. He would no longer want to stick his nose out of there even for all the gold in the world, until the fighting had subsided, not knowing that he would soon be forced to leave for an even more dangerous commission than the one he had just completed.

Alì watched Gallo gently extract three arrows from Andrea’s body, while Lucia, at his side, was ready to dab the blood that was spilling as soon as the sharp weapon was extracted, using freshly laundered cloths and applying the herbal poultice that she herself had prepared in the kitchen. The last arrow, the one that went through the young man’s arm from side to side, didn’t want to get out, no matter how hard Gallo pulled.

«Bastards, they used arrows with rostrums, they only go forward, you can’t pull them back. I will have to break the rocker tail and take out the arrow from the front, cutting with the scalpel the skin of the arm at the exit hole, but I will risk to cause a fatal haemorrhage. Are you ready to swab?»

«Yes,» replied Lucia, «I’m ready!»

Alì realized that only the force of despair prevented Lucia from fainting, even though her eyesight and the ferrous smell of blood were probably dulling her senses. Realizing that the girl would not be able to attend Gallo again, Alì took a deep breath and, as soon as the surgeon finished pulling out the arrow, he rushed to stop the copious bleeding. In less than an instant, the rag he was holding in his hand was completely dyed red, and made him feel a very unpleasant slimy sensation to the touch. Alì had never felt anything like it in his life, but he had to be strong. Gallo tore a strip of sheet, tying it tightly around Andrea’s arm, upstream of the wound. The flow of blood slowed.

«We can’t leave the arm so tight for long, or we will lose it and then I will be forced to amputate it because of the gangrene that will surely form. I need a powerful coagulant and healing agent, and the most powerful is human placenta extract. Alì, you have to go to the midwife, she always has dried placenta and...»

«But, the midwife lives outside Porta Valle, it’s too dangerous to go there!»

«Then I guess there will be little we can do for the boy.»

Luckily, Alì knew a passage that, through the cellars of the palace, led outside the walls, near the valley, where a guild of county workers, led by the Giombini family, were building a new mill for milling grain. As he emerged from the little door that opened in the eastern walls, well hidden by a thick bush, he regretted the sight of the mill being built, which had been partially razed to the ground by the fury of the enemy. But he could not dwell on that detail. The semi-destroyed structure offered him shelter from the sight of the a soldier from Ancona, who was continuing to enter the city through Porta Valle. Alì went decisively towards the small church of Saint Eligio, near which Annuccia, the midwife, lived. The midwife, when she saw the Moor, was frightened at the time, thinking that the invaders included the Saracens, then she recognized Alì and let him into the house.

«Are you crazy walking around here? I was about to kill you with this», Annuccia told him, showing the chimney wing she was holding in her hand. «I’m not about to give up and get raped by this rabble!»

«I need help for my Lord, Annuccia. The Captain has been killed by the enemy and the young Lord is wounded and needs urgent care.»

After a few minutes, Alì left the midwife’s house, jealously guarding what the midwife had entrusted to him and for which he had had to pay out as much as three denarii of silver. He returned to the little hidden door , coming back to Franciolini’s Palace, handing over the precious casing to Gallo. The surgeon took the dry placenta, put it into a cauldron of boiling water, added a few herbs, including the rare Devil’s Claw, and within half an hour he obtained a thick, unpleasant smelling poultice, which he placed in a clay pot. Alì took the pot in his hand and followed Gallo to Andrea’s room, where Lucia was cleaning the blood on the young man’s half-naked body. The surgeon trained the rudimentary tourniquet, while the girl applied an abundant layer of poultice to the wound, then wrapping a fairly narrow band, but not too much, around the injured limb. Andrea, in his semi-unconsciousness, made a grimace of grief, which cheered up all those present: he was still alive, and alert, even if very weak.