Chapter Four

Rome, 1501

“Father, are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes, Lucrezia,” answered the pope.

“But what will you do with them all? And do you really need 50?”

“I have told you what I desire. Now, my dear, can you handle the business or must I ask someone else?”

“I will take care of everything,” she said, “And cost is no object?”

“The coffers are yours, Lucrezia. Take what you need. But you have just a month to secure their services.”

“And do you think Cesare will enjoy it?”

The pope smiled lovingly at her. “I think if all goes according to plan, it will be a night that your brother never forgets.”

“Who else will be there?” she asked.

“I am inviting all of our closest friends - Cardinal Sforza, Cardinal de Medici and of course, Cardinal della Rovere.”

“You say our ‘friends’ and yet you include both della Rovere and de Medici. You know that both would like nothing more than to see you dead and to assume your place as pope.”

“How can you speak ill of such devout clergymen? You are a wicked girl, indeed,” laughed the pope.

“I speak the truth, and you know it,” she replied.

“Indeed, you do. I doubt either will attend, but I rather hope they do. Perhaps we can discuss our philosophical differences as we plan each other’s demise,” he said.

“At any rate, I like to know the whereabouts of my enemies, and if they are under my roof and in my sight, they cannot be plotting against me, can they?”

She laughed, “Father, you are insufferable. Whom else will you invite?”

“All of our true allies,” he laughed.

“Can you be specific?” she persisted.

“Are you hoping for a name in particular? Or is this just general interest on your part?” asked the pope.

“Oh father,” she said blushing.

“I think a certain artist or two may be invited. Are you looking to have your portrait painted again, my dear?”

“No, father,”

“I think I may also include young Machiavelli. I find the man possesses certain insights into the machinations of rulers and the workings of government.”

Lucrezia made a face.

“You do not like Nicolo, or has he proven immune to your charms?”

“I do not trust him,” she replied. “Besides, he is married. And if I were you, father, I would watch him very carefully.”

“Well, I find his cunning admirable. But I must admit that I do not trust him totally either. Still, up until now, he has shown himself a faithful adviser and given me no reason to doubt his loyalty. But he is a Florentine and the influences of the Medici and the late, unlamented Savonarola may run deep. We will keep him close - but not too close. Will that make you happy?” he asked with true fatherly concern.

“Yes, father. You know there are conspirators all around us.”

“I am all too aware of that fact,” said Pope Alexander. “My hope is that this upcoming banquet may provide us with some small degree of leverage against our enemies and an increased hold over our allies.”

“Just once, father,” sighed Lucrezia, “I would like for a ball to be nothing more than a ball.”

Looking at his daughter, the pope said wistfully, “I, too, often yearn for simpler times, but such occasions are becoming more and more infrequent.”

He looked at her and said, “And on that note my daughter, I must go. I think I have kept the ambassador from Narvarre waiting long enough.”

“Oh, papa,” she laughed.

As he reached the door, the pope turned and said, “And you haven’t forgotten the other thing I asked about. The decorated bags?”

“No father. They will be taken care of as well. Though why you need those is a mystery to me. Just to be sure, we have a month before this ball is to take place?”

“Yes,” replied the pope, “and I am counting on you to keep this a secret.”

“I understand completely, Your Holiness,” she said, curtseying and laughing.

Smiling, the pope looked at her and whispered conspiratorially, “Here’s a hint: All shall be revealed in due time.”

Before she could protest, he was gone.

***

Michelangelo awoke with a headache of epic proportions.

As he lay in bed, he thought back on the day before.

He had indeed received a papal commission. In fact, he had actually received seven commissions if one wanted to be technical. Following wine with Pope Alexander, he had headed to a tavern to celebrate his fortune.

As he rose and busied himself, his head slowly began to clear, and he reflected on everything that Pope Alexander had said to him.

Before the pope had gone into the specifics of his plan, he had asked, “Do you carry prayer beads, Michelangelo?”

“Yes, your holiness,” the artist answered.

“Why?” asked the Pope.

“They remind me of the sufferings that Jesus Christ endured for us,” said the artist, crossing himself.

“Yes, exactly,” said the pope. “Like you, like all men, I too need to be reminded of the agony Our Lord had to undergo.

“Are you tempted, Michelangelo?”

“Every day, Your Holiness. But I do my best to resist.”

“Like you, Michelangelo, I too am surrounded by temptation. And like you, I do my best not to succumb. That is why I should like you to create something akin to the rosary - but just for me and those who come after me in this office.”

“I am not certain I follow you, your Holiness.”

“I want you to create a collection of visual reminders so that when I look upon them, I can see the temptations of the flesh. And I hope that by gazing upon them - and praying - I shall be given the strength to resist such snares. Do you understand, my boy?”

“I think so,” said Michelangelo.

“Does Your Holiness know exactly what he wants, or would you like me to develop some rough sketches for you?”

“It’s certainly open for discussion,” the pope said.

He continued, “I must admit, in some respects, I have planned these to the last detail, but I am aware that if I impose too many limitations on you, I run the risk of strangling your genius in its infancy. So, I think it best that what we do here is collaborate - in the truest sense of the word.”

“I understand, Your Holiness.”

“Well then, Michelangelo, here is what I have in mind.”

The pope then began to outline his ideas in such detail that the artist could see immediately that the pontiff had been planning this for quite some time.

Listening intently, Michelangelo was shocked as the pope moved from generalities to specifics and then, in a few cases, to extremely detailed instructions.

After the pontiff had finished, he asked, “Do you think you are up to the task?”

Michelangelo could only nod - he was so stunned by what he had just heard.

“One more thing, Michelangelo. This must be done in absolute secrecy. No one must know - or ever learn - of our endeavor. I understand that you usually work in secret. Keep that in mind, as we go forward, and I have no doubt that more papal commissions will find their way to your door.”

Thinking about what he had been asked to do, Michelangelo decided that it was sheer madness. However, he was just as certain that to refuse would have meant the end of his career as an artist - and perhaps his life as well.

With his mind racing, Michelangelo dressed, ate and decided to visit his old friend Stefano. Without telling the miniaturist what he had in mind, he needed to see what hints or suggestions he might pry from the man.

Although he thought he had the tools necessary to carry out the task at hand, he wanted to check with the craftsman to see if there were something special he might require, and if so, the best place to procure it.

Although he had no doubt of his skills, he was venturing into new territory here, and while he preferred working alone, he was fairly certain that he was going to need, if not the help and skill of his erstwhile assistant, at least his advice.

Recalling Stefano’s fondness for Chianti,

Michelangelo decided that another visit to the tavern might be in order as well. After all, he reasoned, this vintage was being purchased by the pope. How many other artists could make that claim?