In The Lion's Sign. Stefano Vignaroli
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of the family. None of this for Lucia Baldeschi, who had not wanted any presumed member of her family around her. Her sober elegance and poise was almost that of a queen who went to the altar to marry her prince. A queen who had always made herself loved by her people for what she was and not for what she wanted to appear. And she would never want appearing differently just because that was a special day. All the citizens of Jesi had learned to love her as a woman with a strong and determined character, but at the same time with a good and kind soul. Bernardino queued for the procession which, shortly afterwards, would arrive on the churchyard of the Church of St. Floriano, where the groom, together with Cardinal Ghislieri, would be waiting for her. There, the wedding ceremony would take place with the exchange of the rings. After that, the bride and groom, celebrants and guests would enter the Church for the celebration itself.
Even if she didn’t show it, Lucia couldn’t stand the anxiety anymore. She couldn’t wait to get off her steed and get closer to her groom, extending her left hand forward, so that he would kiss the hand and hold it into his. But as soon as the white horse set foot in the Square, where the Swabian Emperor was born, it was immediately evident to the bride and all her cohorts that Captain Franciolini was not in his place, under the canopy prepared for this purpose in front of the Church. The Bishop, Cardinal Ghislieri, greeted the young bride with embarrassed arms. It was evident he didn’t know how to report the necessary explanations.
«Duke Della Rovere’s men... Yes, they were the Duke Della Rovere’s men who presented themselves a moment ago. They exchanged a few words with the Marquis and put a sealed envelope in his hand. He read it in the blink of an eye and then, without uttering a word, jumped on his horse and went off on a great career behind those men. Before disappearing, he turned around and shouted, “Excuse me with the Countess, but my person is urgently needed in Mantua!”»
CHAPTER 2
The fortress of the princes of Carpegna was a safe refuge, thanks to the inaccessibility of the place, perched as it was on a rocky spur, overlooking a village of a few houses on Mount Carpegnia. A couple of months ago in the memorable 27th March 1523, the day when Andrea had been seriously injured during a chivalric tournament by the vile Masio from Cingoli. It was obvious Maso was jealous of his position and hoped for his death, or at least for a serious disability, to get himself in the good graces of the Duke Della Rovere. And he had tried every way he could, but it had gone wrong. Andrea had only learned later that on the same day, on 27 March, Pope Adrian VI had signed the bull that legalized the position of Francesco Maria Della Rovere, confirming in his favour all the individual concessions made by the previous popes and annulling the sentence of Leo X, who assigned the territories of Urbino and Montefeltro to the Medici. The Duke had been reinstated in his position, and his territories had been returned to him, for the annual census of 1340 florins for the Duchy of Urbino, 750 for the city of Pesaro and 100 for Senigallia. Only San Leo and Maiolo, where between January and February 1523 the troops of Giovanni De’ Medici, better known as Giovanni dalle Bande Nere, remained under the rule of the Medici, acting as a buffer between the Feltre and Medici lands.
Andrea had recovered in a very slow way, either because of the serious loss of blood suffered, and because he had been offended again an arm already injured during the sack of Jesi. He had hoped, opening his eyes again after days of agony, to find his beloved Lucia next to him, as happened when he had been injured years before. Instead, the only presence that he felt was a Franciscan friar, who was busy with decoctions and implants, of which Andrea was sure that he ignored the healing properties. Perhaps he had been instructed in this way by the Countess Baldeschi who, not being able to remain beside him, had entrusted his remedies to the friar. In fact, the unmistakable image of Lucia’s eyes, glimpsed through the visor of a concealed visor before losing consciousness, remained printed in his mind. But was he sure? Or was it only his imagination making him to believe it? Yes, the imagination of a person wearing the fear of death, which made him misrepresent reality in favour of concepts benevolent to him. Either way, no matter what happened, he was better off now. His shoulder continued to give him excruciating pain, but it was time to fully recover and the first thing to think about was revenge against Masio. Revenge is a dish best savoured cold. And he had had plenty of time to think about what to do.
He was regaining his strength little by little, and the high plateaus of Mount Carpegna were ideal for quiet and restful rides. There was no danger of ambushes, as the horizon completely uncovered did not allow anyone to sneak in. Therefore, in order to restore the spirit and muscles, Andrea used to saddle a mild mount early in the morning and go out into the pure, crisp air that only the mountain could offer. Every day he felt stronger and more confident, even if his shoulder was still sore. But he clenched his teeth, tried to resist as if nothing had happened, and soon the pains disappeared like snow in the sun. He wished to be healthy again, to reach his beloved and his city as soon as possible, to fulfil his promise of marriage, but also to take over the government of his city. And by virtue of what had been granted him by the Duke Della Rovere, he could demand all this in his own right. He was no longer the simple son of a merchant, however much his captain was appointed by the people of Jesi. Now he was noble, he was a Marquis, with a lot of lands, even if rough mountain lands, and moreover he was in the graces of the Duke of Urbino. Of course, he owed obedience to the latter, but he felt he could return to Jesi in full autonomy. Despite being immersed in these thoughts, he could not help but notice in the distance the cloud of dust raised by a handful of men on horseback coming up along the dirt road leading to the fortress.
He heard in the distance the calls of the sentries from the stands. Although the voices did not seem alarmed, there was a cannon shot warning of the arrival of a potential enemy. Then, the ringing of the bells made Andrea understand that there was no danger, that those men approaching were not in combat gear. When the group began to stand out better, he noticed a horseman with the proudest bearing, on a steed that surpassed all the other railroads in height, ridden by light armour. The colours were that of the Medici.
Giovanni De’ Medici, Andrea said to himself, the famous and notorious Giovanni dalle Bande Nere, or better Ludovico di Giovanni De’ Medici, officially repudiated by his family as the illegitimate son of Giovanni il Popolano, but still strongly tied to it. Why would he have gone so far? Would he have known of my presence? Has he come to challenge me? Will he want to take back the territories of the upper Montefeltro on behalf of his family?
The unexpected arrival worried Andrea a little, also because in a possible clash with the Medici thugs he would have had only a few men in the service of the Counts of Carpegna. And they were little compared to the fame that accompanied the soldiers of fortune of Captain Giovanni dalle Bande Nere. He turned towards the fortress, thinking it was better to confer with the Medici within safe walls and flanked by men he trusted, when he saw that the Counts Carpegna, the brothers Piero and Bono, had gone out of great career and were riding towards him to bring him help. Sure of being protected, he turned towards potential enemies, who had by then come a short distance away from him. Andrea put his hand to the hilt of the sword, secured to the saddle of his mount, clutching it, ready to unseat it at any hint of hostility from the new arrivals. The man famous for his Black Bands raised one arm, signalling his retinue to stop, then with a leap he got off his horse and approached on foot, keeping his arms wide and raised. The gesture was evident and Andrea relaxed, taking his hand off the weapon and getting off the horse in turn. When he was a few steps away from him, the man expressed himself in a deep reverence. Andrea watched him, squeezed him from head to toe, trying to understand why this apparently so mild person had been associated with the reputation of a ruthless warrior. He was a young man, he was about twenty-five years old, his face adorned with a manicured beard, not too long. The hair, dark and cut short, was evident because the captain was not wearing any kind of concealment, and was the outline of a round face with a serene air. The man was not even tall, seen from the ground. He was probably trying to ride tall, mighty animals to overpower those around him. He wore a scorched earth coloured doublet, with the five red balls and the three-pointed lily embroidered on the front, to symbolize loyalty to his family of origin.
«It’s an honour for me to see you here, sir», Andrea said, in turn sketching a bow as a greeting, anxious to know the reason for the unexpected visit. «Now then, may I know what prompted