Chapter Twenty-Two

Florence, 1501

Michelangelo awoke, washed his face and headed downstairs, where he found Leonardo sitting at his dining room table, drawing. Passing several pages to Michelangelo, he asked, “Is this close to what you had in mind?”

Looking at the various sketches on the pages, Michelangelo said, “That’s not what I envisioned at all.”

“Really?” asked Leonardo, a slight hint of disappointment in his voice.

“No, these are so much better,” said Michelangelo.

The old man smiled. “I told you, there is no need for flattery,” he said. “I will work with you - if for no other reason than the challenge you have posed interests me.”

“Thank you, Leonardo. I just hope that you don’t regret your decision.”

“Now,” Leonardo said, “let us have some breakfast, and consider how to secure the materials we need and a good forge. Salai, bring us something to eat, you rascal.”

After outlining their plans in broad strokes, they revised and reworked them for several hours until they believed that they had taken every last detail into consideration.

“So, I will leave for Rome today. I am certain that my absence has given rise to fear in some quarters and raised eyebrows in others,” said Michelangelo.

“I will leave tomorrow,” Leonardo said, “I have a few things I must attend to here; otherwise, I would accompany you.”

“Given the eyes that may be watching me, I think it best that we travel separately. By the time you arrive, I hope to have everything in place. I shall meet you at Piero’s house six days from now.”

“Agreed,” said Leonardo. “I have had Salai pack a meal that you can eat as you travel. Be safe, Michelangelo.”

They embraced, and bid each other farewell. As he mounted his horse and turned to head for Rome, he saw Leonardo standing in the door, smiling broadly and waving to him.

Even as he returned the gesture, he found himself thinking, “I hope that I have made the right choice.”

The ride back to Rome seemed a blur. As Michelangelo revised and reworked his own plans, the hours and the days passed very quickly.

He arrived home in the evening on the fifth day. After returning the horse, he headed straight for Piero’s house.

Fortunately, the blacksmith was home.

“Michelangelo, it’s been too long,” said Piero. “What brings you to my house at this hour?”

“Several things,” said Michelangelo. “I could use your help, my friend.”

Without hesitating, Piero said simply, “Ask.”

“I need to install two guests at your home for a period of time. One of them is going to want to use your forge,” he added.

“That’s not so much to ask,” Piero said, “Anything else?”

“Just one thing, and I say this for your own good.” “I’m listening,” said Piero.

“No questions,” replied Michelangelo. “I will explain all in due time. In the interim, here are 50 gold pieces to cover the cost of their lodging and to pay for the use of the forge.”

“That’s too much,” protested Piero.

“No questions and no arguments,” laughed Michelangelo.

“We go back a long way,” Piero said. “You have done me many favors and given me much work. When my wife passed, I thought you were my only friend.”

“Thank you, Piero,” said Michelangelo. “Now, no more discussion. They will arrive tomorrow night.”

“Do I know these people?” asked Piero.

“I believe that you do. I hope you will be pleasantly surprised, and I shall return tomorrow after dark.”

“Thank you, Michelangelo. Anything you need, just ask.”

As he walked through the darkened streets toward his home, Michelangelo wondered who was more on edge over his prolonged absence - the pope or della Rovere. “I shall find out soon enough,” he thought.

As he turned onto his street, he saw a familiar horse in front of his house, and his downstairs rooms were all aglow. I guess I’ll find out momentarily, he thought.

As he entered, he heard a voice say, “Where have you been, you bastard?”

Looking, he saw Cesare Borgia rising to his feet.

“I am just back from Naples,” replied Michelangelo. “I went there to get some special tools and to examine some granite for a future project.”

“What tools?” asked Cesare.

Michelangelo unfolded his bedroll and showed Cesare a gleaming assortment of chisels and gravers that Leonardo had given him. “These are made of the finest steel in all of Italy,” he explained. “In order to execute the papal commission, I must have these.”

“We could have sent someone to get them for you,” said Cesare.

“I don’t think so,” explained Michelangelo, “You see, these were made expressly for my hands. See how the knobs fit exactly into my palm. See how the length of the chisel is in direct proportion? Look at the teeth on these chisels. See how they vary ever so slightly in width? I helped the artisan design these, and unfortunately, I had to be there to oversee their production myself.”

“My father has been worried about you,” said Cesare.

“Again, I apologize for any concern that I may have caused His Holiness. Did not my houseboy tell you where I went and why and when I would return?”

“He did, but there are bandits on the roads and accidents do happen,” said Cesare pointedly.

“Well, I am back in one piece. I have my new tools, and I am ready to go to work for His Holiness.”

“Excellent,” said Cesare. “We have only one week until the ball, so I am sure that you can understand my father’s apprehension.”

“Of course, of course,” said Michelangelo.

“The festivities are scheduled to begin Wednesday night with a dinner for all the guests. I imagine my father would like to meet with you at least one more time before then.”

“I am His Holiness’ to command,” said Michelangelo.

“Excellent,” said Cesare. “I expect you will hear from me in the next day or two.”

“I am at your disposal as well,” said the artist.

Michelangelo watched as Cesare threw his cloak over his shoulders and headed for the door. As he opened it, he turned to Michelangelo and said, “If I may, signore, just one more question.”

“Of course.”

“You just made a cameo of my sister. It is a beautiful piece. So why did you need new tools?”

Michelangelo looked at Cesare and saw just a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Follow me, please.” With that Michelangelo turned and headed upstairs to his studio with Cesare at his heels.

Going to his workbench, he showed Cesare two broken chisels and several others with dulled blades that he had arranged before he left.

“As you might expect, carving in stone is painstaking work with little room for error. In producing a cameo such as the likeness of your sister, I may go through several blades. As you know, I generally work on larger commissions, so I was able to get through the one cameo with the tools at hand, but I knew to carry out your father’s commission, I was going to need a complete set of new tools for carving miniatures, and the only place to secure the implements that I wanted was to go to Benito, toolmaker to the great Bellini.”

Cesare seemed satisfied with Michelangelo’s tale. As they descended the stairs, he smiled and said, “I apologize if I seem overly suspicious. My only excuse is that my years as a cardinal have prepared me for intrigues of every possible nature.”

“I understand,” said Michelangelo.

“I must confess, signore, I have killed men because they posed a threat or proved untrue to my family. Let us hope it does not come to that with you. I should hate to end such a promising career so prematurely.” And with that, he mounted his horse and rode down the darkened street in the direction of the Vatican.