The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels
Page 171
Her act humiliated him no end, and he hid himself away in the Vatican. It made him the subject of some cruel jokes amongst the gossips in the city. He missed many public functions and Church events. Soon, some even began to wonder if he had committed suicide.
He had in his possession a stunning portrait of her. Orsini paid a large sum to Michelangelo to paint it before his return to Florence in 1499. He had captured a perfect likeness of the nineteen-year-old Gina. It cost Piccolomini a pretty penny to acquire it, but he got his hands on it all the same.
He left the Vatican for his quiet retreat in Tuscany. It was a quaint villa where he could spend some time alone away from Rome. For hours at a time, he gazed at her image. His misery at not seeing her grew worse with each day. He contemplated ending his own life. Were it not the worst of sins, he would have.
“I would sell my soul to have you,” he sighed, while gazing at the painting on one such a day.
The moment he uttered those fateful words, he wished he had not. A figure appeared beside him. “I can give her to you.”
He looked up and gasped. “Who are you? How did you find your way in here?”
“Why the drama, Francesco? You know who I am.”
“I fear I have had too much wine. It is playing tricks on my mind.”
“There are no tricks here. Do you want her, or not? You know I can make it happen. You have but to say the word, and it is done.”
He looked away, thinking of her. “She is all that I want.”
Lucifer produced a scroll. “I have a contract. All you need do is sign it.”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “That I cannot do.”
He rolled the scroll back up. “It is an offer I shall make only once.”
“I am a man of God. I cannot enter into any bargain with you.”
Lucifer laughed. “A man of God? You are no such thing.”
The cardinal dropped the portrait and stood up, taking deep offence at the remark. The canvas caught the corner of a table and ripped in the middle of Gina’s face.
“You are a crook, and a thief,” Lucifer said. “The same as the rest of them in that place you frequent.”
The cardinal forgot him for a moment, and dropped to his knees to retrieve the portrait. When he saw its condition, he was devastated. Lucifer had seen much over the ravages of time. Rarely had he ever seen anguish on a man’s face to compare.
“What shall you do?” he mocked. “You cannot even look at her.”
“Go away, and leave me in peace,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face.
Lucifer stooped down close to his ear. “I can give her to you.”
“No.”
“Imagine what it is to hold her in your arms. The smell of her hair as it brushes against your cheek. The wonder of her breast in your mouth. The warmth and the ecstasy to know what it is to be inside her. Inside her as often as it pleases you. Think for a moment on that.”
“Stop!”
“Oh, Francesco. I can give you all of that, and more.”
“I cannot do it!”
“I can make her lust for you. Her every thought can be of you, and only you. I can make her ache to run her tongue all over your body. I can make her love you!”
The cardinal looked at him. “Love me?”
“With a click of my fingers. Her only desire would be to please and satisfy your every urge. She shall love you so much that she would do anything for you to love her the same.”
“But I do love her.”
Lucifer produced the scroll again. “Then sign your name here.”
The cardinal wavered. He wanted her so much. Lucifer clicked his fingers so that a flame burned from his thumb. He dangled the scroll near to it. “I have much to do,” he stressed. “Your time with me is at an end.”
The corner of the scroll caught fire.
“No!” he cried. “Do not let it burn! I shall sign it! As long as she is mine.”
“Make your mark here and you can consider her yours.”
He signed.
Almost every day after that, he saw her. She had a complete change of heart. Her need for him was such that he could scarcely cope. He did not realise he still had it in him, but she ensured that he did.
Her father was disgusted at the very thought of it. News of the liaison was on the lips of everyone in the city. They all said it would not last. Orsini called it one of his daughter’s many whims. He even thought she did it just to vex him, but the way it lasted proved that theory wrong. For two whole years now, she had eyes for nobody but him. In time, the gossip ceased. She was the mistress of Francesco Piccolomini. There was no more to it, and people accepted it for what it was.
He kissed her farewell and left. His men waited for him out in the street where they had remained on alert the whole time. He had picked each of them for that reason. They had all made their careers in the army.
A figure appeared in their midst, a man who stood twelve inches higher than any of them. He wore a long black coat almost to his feet. A wide-rimmed hat obscured the upper half of his face. Of the lower half, all they saw was his beard.
His dress made him look alien. None of the men had seen anything of the like before. He was not a native of Rome. That much they could tell right away. No one had seen him approach, and it caused them much alarm.
“Step away!” the biggest of the guards ordered.
The stranger towered over him, but it did not matter. He squared up to the man, as was his job to do so. The other two guards took a position to either side. “Step away, I warned you!”
The stranger grabbed him by the throat. He glared down at the man before lifting him two feet into the air. The cardinal looked up in fear.
“Tell them to leave us alone,” the stranger said to him in a quiet, but serious tone.
He knew the identity of the stranger. For the safety of his men, he would have to comply.
“Yes,” the stranger said, as though reading his mind. “I shall kill them, if the need arises.”
“Leave me, and take a stroll,” the cardinal told them. “All of you.”
The guard held his throat after the stranger put him back down. “But your Eminence,” he croaked.
“Do it. I know the man. He is a friend.”
His guards stepped away before the stranger raised his head for the first time.
The cardinal looked up at him, the horror at Lucifer’s appearance reflecting in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“We have a contract, do you not remember?”
“Yes, how can I not?”
“I gave you all that was promised you. The time has come to pay on your debt.”
“So soon? It feels like no time at all.”
“You have had two years.”
“What is two years to you?”
“It was everything to you. We had an agreement, and it is time to pay.”
“I am not ready.”
“No one is ever ready, but I say when it is time.”
Lucifer reached out to rip the soul from his body.
“Wait!” he begged. “Perhaps we can re-negotiate our contract?”
“I think not.”
“But I have something that might interest you.”
“Yes, your soul. It is all you had, and you sold it to me.”
“What about a man called Andrei?”
Lucifer raised his head to give him an icy stare. “What do you know of him?”
“I know enough.”
“Then speak.”
“If you are willing to discuss new terms?”
“I can obtain the information from you in any manner of ways.”
“Is that not against the rules? You are one for rules, are you not?”
“Your soul is black. They do not apply to you.”
“Then I have nothing to say.”
Lucifer knew he could drag the cardinal down into Hell. There, he could torture him for what he needed to know. The old man would give it up
gladly then. But he wanted to hear it now. He admired the calm of the cardinal and liked the game he was playing. “Very well. Let us talk terms.”
“I want immunity from you.”
Lucifer laughed. “There is no such thing.”
“That is what I want.”
“Even if I granted you that, do you think for a moment God would take you?”
He gave it some thought, and knew Lucifer was right. “Then what other option is there?”
“I could leave your soul to wander the earth for eternity, but you would not like that either, I promise you.”
“I want the papacy.”
“I know you do.”
“And you can give it to me?”
“I can do anything.”
“And you can spare me an eternity of torture and pain in your domain?”
“If I feel so inclined.”
“Then that is what I want.”
“The papacy and an easy time down in Hell?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is done.”
Lucifer pulled a new contract from his coat, and passed it to Piccolomini to see. “Sign.”
“I have nothing to sign with.”
Lucifer grabbed Piccolomini’s hand and pricked his thumb. In a moment, the first trickle of blood appeared. “Your blood is enough. Press it against the parchment.”
He did this. As soon as the cardinal’s blood touched the paper, Lucifer withdrew the scroll and tucked it away. “So, you have something to tell me?”
“Yes,” the cardinal said, nodding eagerly. “A year ago, a man came to see the pope.”
“Was he an old, or a young man?”
“Very old. Older than I.”
“He gave his name as Andrei?”
“Yes.”
“Did you speak with him?”
“No, I was forced to leave the room.”
“So you were not privy to what was said?”
“I still heard every word.”
“What did he say?”
“He spoke of a plot by you to destroy the Church. In doing so, he said you hoped to turn man against God once more.”
“Did the pope believe him?”
“Not at first, but the man made him listen.”
“What more did he say?”
“He spoke of a demon of the night called Dracula. This demon, he said, was your instrument to bring about this end.”
Lucifer put a hand over his mouth as he listened.
“He mentioned there was a way this demon could be destroyed, but that the Vatican had to play an important role in this.”
“And what was it?”
“He was too clever to say it aloud, but I am sure it was written on something he handed to the pope.”
“You are sure of this?”
“Yes.”
“How did the pope react to it?”
“He seemed stunned, and asked Andrei what he wanted him to do.”
“What was that?”
“Andrei said his body had to be buried in a vault in the Vatican and guarded. The secret would remain there with him.”
“And is he buried there?”
“Yes.”
Lucifer gritted his teeth in anger. “Andrei was a clever one,” he said, cursing his name. “He knows it is one of the few places I cannot go.”
“The pope has never spoken of it.”
“Have you seen anything written?”
“No, he has kept the secret well.”
“Then I want someone in that vault. I need his body removed from there.”
“Alexander’s successor perhaps?”
Lucifer looked at him. “Yes, his secret can die with him.”
Chapter 34
WALLACHIA. DRACULA’S CASTLE IN
THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS.
JUNE, 1503.
Wake up!” Lucifer shouted.
Dracula stirred in his casket and slowly opened his eyes. The sun had not yet gone down, and he had still been in a deep sleep.
Lucifer hit the side of the casket with his fist. “Awaken, I said!”
Dracula looked up and saw him there. “It is not yet sunset.”
“I do not care! I need to speak with you!”
“It is how you made me.”
“We have much to discuss.”
Dracula could tell by the expression on Lucifer’s face that he should not keep his master waiting. He sat up, though he remained inside the casket. Close by, his wife still slept. “What is so urgent to bring you here?”
“The one you met in the forest three years past. I see him in your memory.”
He cast his mind back to Andrei. “The old gypsy?”
“Yes, that is he.”
“He said he was my brother.”
“It is the truth. His name is Andrei.”
“You know of him? Why did you never tell me?”
“I did not feel the need, not till this day.”
“I faced him unprepared. I should not have had to.”
“And he cast you out?”
“Yes,” Dracula said, looking him directly in the eye.
“That does not surprise me. I, too, have faced him in years past.”
“When was this?”
“The same day you found the Fier Negru in the ruins at Tirgoviste.”
“When my father died?”
“Yes, his father too.”
“What happened?”
“We saw him. There is a window I can exploit if he does not protect himself.”
“And that is what happened then?”
“Yes, there was a great battle.”
“Between you and he?”
“Partly.”
“He resisted you?”
“Yes, he did. His power is mighty. He draws it directly from the Christ.”
“And the Christ is more powerful than you?”
“For the now he is, yes. But that shall all change, in good time.”
“And what of the battle?”
Lucifer thought back. “It was a good one, but a defeat for our side.”
“Between whom?”
“Many of my legions and the Archangels.”
Dracula paused to digest the new information. It grieved him that Lucifer had never seen fit to tell him of his half-brother. If there were one who could rival or even better him, then he thought it right for his master to tell him about it. “Do you know where Andrei is in the present?”
“He is dead for the now, but he remains a problem to our side.”
“He said to me he would be reborn.”
“Yes, his energy still lives. It shall pass to another mortal, and then to another. That is, unless we can destroy him.”
“If you failed before, how can we hope to do this?”
“We need him to err once more. He is but a mortal after all.”
“Is that likely?”
“There is always a chance, every time he is born into the world.”
“Why does he concern you for the now if he is not among the living?”
“Andrei saw the pope before his death.”
“What does that matter? Surely you have his soul. He is wretched enough.”
“He is buried in a vault in the Vatican.”
“I am none the wiser.”
“He is a wise one, and knew the depths of the Vatican is the one place I cannot go. None of us can go there.”
“So leave him there.”
“His body can provide a key to destroy you. I am not sure what exactly that is, but his body is there to keep it from our clutches.”
For the first time Dracula understood. “And he knew that?”
“Yes, he knew it.”
“What do you plan to do over it?”
“Only two men know the secret of this.”
“One is the pope. Who is the other?”
“The man who I shall have succeed him.”
“So you intend to kill Alexander?”
“No, you shall.”
/> “And that is why you are here?”
“Yes, the pope must die.”
“Why do you need me? Surely you can see to that without my aid? You have killed humans before.”
“I told you long ago of the rules of the universe. There are boundaries even I cannot cross. He is one that cannot die by my hand; not directly.”
“But as you have said, I cannot enter the inner sanctum of the Vatican either.”
“He is leaving there soon. Away from the Vatican, he is an easy target.”
“And what would his death achieve?”
“It means his secret dies with him.”
“And what of his successor?”
“His successor shall have access to the body of Andrei. I need his body out of that vault.”
“If it is destroyed, it means they cannot kill me?”
“Yes, I imagine so. So you have as large a stake in this as I.”
“And when he has removed the body? What then?”
“I shall go for him.”
“Have you considered the other option?”
“What might that be?”
“When I ruled, I used to look at every possible outcome. What do you do if this man cannot remove the body from the vault?”
“He would be the pope. Of course he can remove it.”
“What if he does not?”
“Then when he dies, no one should know the body lies there. If, in time, it is discovered, nobody would know who it is or why the body is in the vault.”
“And that ensures my safety?”
“Naturally. It gives you the freedom to finish your task.”
“What of Alexander? What would you have me do with him?”
“Add a touch of subtlety. Let him go the same way as each of his own victims.”
“You want me to poison him?”
“Yes, it would be a fitting end. And then his soul comes to me.”
Chapter 35
ROME PROVINCE. THE VILLA OF CARDINAL
ADRIANO CORNETO OUTSIDE ROME.
AUGUST 11, 1503.
In August, 1503, France and Spain went to war again. As before, they fought over the Kingdom of Naples. Cesare Borgia had signed a treaty with Louis XII, which bound him to come to the aid of France.
The death of Francesco Troche made his situation a delicate one. Troche had long been the pope’s secretary and confidante. He fled Rome on a ship bound for Corsica. En route, an assassin threw him overboard and drowned him.