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The Florentine Emerald: The Secret of the Convert's Ring

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by Agustín Bernaldo Palatchi




  THE FLORENTINE EMERALD

  The Secret of the Convert’s Ring

  Agustín B. Palatchi

  Contents

  Cast of Characters

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Part Two

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Chapter 121

  Chapter 122

  Chapter 123

  Chapter 124

  Chapter 125

  Chapter 126

  Chapter 127

  Chapter 128

  Chapter 129

  Part Three

  Chapter 130

  Chapter 131

  Chapter 132

  Chapter 133

  Chapter 134

  Chapter 135

  Chapter 136

  Epilogue

  Chapter 137

  Chapter 138

  Chapter 139

  About the Author

  To Raquel. Thanks to her inspiration, the novel was able to find its way.

  To my mother. Without her, nothing would ever have been possible.

  To Francesc. A man of such generosity that he contributes only the very best.

  Cast of Characters

  LORENZO DE MEDICI

  His extraordinary charisma and manifold talents allowed him to govern the Republic of Florence with even more authority than a king. A fine poet, admired for his verse, he encouraged commerce in place of the sword and took the most outstanding artists of the time under his protection.

  LEONARDO DA VINCI

  Multifaceted creator and Renaissance genius, far in advance of his time, the wings of his imagination soared over the arts and science with equal ease. Painter, engineer, musician, inventor, and so much more. His work is a faithful reflection of his brilliant and eclectic mind.

  MARSILIO FICINO

  Priest, doctor, philosopher, and soul of the Platonic Academy in Florence—gathering place of the most illustrious minds. He translated the Corpus Hermeticum by Hermes Trismegistus and the Dialogues of Plato. He reintroduced ancient wisdom to the Christian world.

  PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA

  Prodigious scholar of noble lineage and an early defender of human freedom, he dared to stand up to Rome by proclaiming that the great religions—Egyptian, Hebrew, Greek and Christian—all shared the same essential truths.

  GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA

  An ascetic, visionary monk who imposed his will on Florence. His intense hate of feminine vanity, the sages of antiquity, festive music, empty luxury, and naked bodies as depicted in sculptures and paintings, completely transformed the city.

  CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS

  One of the most famous and most studied characters in history. Despite this, many mysteries still surround him, as the great seafarer concealed his origins and the real motivations behind his deeds.

  ABRAHAM ABULAFIA

  An influential thirteenth-century Kabbalist from Aragon who traveled throughout Galilee, Sicily, and Greece before settling in Barcelona. His contact with Eastern traditions, including Sufism, enriched his works, which were highly esteemed in the Italian peninsula.

  Other Historical Characters

  FRANCESCO PAZZI

  Impulsive and charismatic member of the noble Pazzi family, whose enormous wealth and contacts in high places rivaled those of the Medici family.

  JACOPO PAZZI

  Patriarch of the Pazzi family.

  FRANCESCO SASSETTI

  General manager of the Medici Bank.

  BERNARDO RUCELLAI

  Banker and humanist, he was married to Lucrecia Medici, Lorenzo’s sister.

  PIERO MEDICI

  Lorenzo’s firstborn son, he inherited none of his father’s talents.

  GIOVANNI MEDICI

  Lorenzo’s second son, diplomatic and intelligent, he would go on to become Pope Leon X.

  Fictional Characters

  MAURICIO COLOMA

  Only son of a Barcelona merchant, his world falls apart when his father reveals disturbing family secrets to him moments before being executed. Obliged to flee, he travels to Florence in the hope of selling an extraordinary ring to Lorenzo de Medici.

  LORENA GINORI

  A young, impetuous Florentine condemned to marry a man whom she finds loathsome. Francesco, her father, is not prepared to allow his daughter’s personal feelings to get in the way of a marriage that would be so advantageous to the family’s social standing.

  LUCA ALBIZZI

&nb
sp; An ambitious nobleman down on his luck, he yearns to recover the lost splendor of his family’s name and be the driving force to avenge the family honor snatched away by the Medici when they expelled his ancestors from Florence.

  CATERUCCIA

  Purchased as a slave on the occasion of Lorena’s birthday, she is much more than an exotic servant from the Black Sea, for thanks to her conscientious caring she has won a place in the hearts of the Ginori family.

  GALEOTTO PAZZI

  Member of the noble Pazzi family.

  BRUNO

  Quick-witted bookkeeper at the Tavola Medici in Florence (tavola means “bank”—its business, such as loans and money-changing, was conducted by men seated behind a tavola, the Italian word for “table.”)

  PIETRO MANFREDI

  Prominent Florentine merchant, he hides many secrets behind his elegant facade.

  SOFIA PLETHON

  Daughter of Gemisthos Plethon, one of the learned scholars saved by escaping to Florence before the Turks conquered Constantinople.

  FRANCESCO GINORI

  Wealthy trader. Husband of Flavia and father of Lorena.

  FLAVIA GINORI

  Distinguished Florentine lady. Wife of Francesco and mother of Lorena.

  MARIA GINORI

  Younger sister of Lorena.

  ALESSANDRO GINORI

  Elder brother of Lorena.

  ELIAS LEVI

  Prestigious rabbi.

  MICHEL BLANCH

  Nothing can be revealed about this character, not even whether he finally makes an appearance.

  Part One

  1478–1480

  1

  Cardona, Spain

  April 3, 1478

  “My life has been one long succession of errors and tomorrow I shall die.”

  It was only after many years had passed that his son grasped the full meaning of these words. The fact is the truth was too terrible for Mauricio Coloma to accept unquestioningly. Chained up in that claustrophobic and foul-smelling cell in Cardona Castle, his father was the very embodiment of defeat, bitterness, and suffering.

  Torture, Mauricio supposed, was the reason his father had been reduced to such a pitiful condition. His hair had been shaved and his skull was a mass of blood-stained scabs. His broken nose forced him to breathe through his mouth and when he spoke he seemed to choke on his own words. His dislocated jaw and swollen features completely distorted his expression. Only his light-colored eyes reminded Mauricio of the man he had always known. They shone with even more intensity than usual, as if to devour all the attention of his only son in these last moments left him as he awaited death.

  The previous week Pedro Coloma, his father, had gone to Cardona Castle to claim payment for a large order of fabric. During his stay in the fortress, the Count of Cardona stabbed the king’s herald after a heavy meal lubricated by far too much wine. The affair would have been of no concern to a modest proprietor of textile mills in Barcelona, had he not been a witness to the murder. Chosen to be the scapegoat for this most unfortunate incident, Pedro Coloma was accused of committing the crime with the aim of encouraging a new rebellion of the serfs, whose just grievances had already provoked ten long years of civil war. In this way, by adding another death to the first, the hot-tempered Count of Cardona aimed to avoid both the royal rage and the payment of the old debt owed to his father.

  “Surely there must be some way of preventing your execution!” exclaimed Mauricio, as if mere words could have the power to change the inevitable.

  Devastated by a pain so deep that it seemed to pierce his soul, as if it were torn fabric, consumed by a searing fire forcing its way through his feeling of complete impotence, stunned by a torrent of emotions that clouded all understanding as if an explosion of gunpowder had shattered his brain, Mauricio could hardly bear not being able to help the person he loved so much. Mauricio’s mother, the only woman his father had ever loved, died giving birth to him and in his innermost heart he felt he had never fulfilled the hope placed in him. And now, when his father most needed him, most, he was failing him yet again.

  “My son, you are now twenty-one years of age. Since your childhood, I have allowed your passion for books to be a refuge from the reality you preferred to avoid. But now, the time for dreaming has come to an end.”

  His father’s abrupt rebuke shook him to the core, dissipating a kind of haze that had always shielded him like a protective barrier from direct contact with his most painful emotions, those he did not wish to confront. It was no longer possible to escape that anguish by plunging into the mists of his imagination. His father’s steady, challenging gaze prevented him from doing so.

  “Once you have left this cell I shall confess to the crime I did not commit,” said Pedro Coloma. “No one can bear pitiless and prolonged torture. The reason I have been able to resist without surrendering has been my stubborn insistence on seeing you in exchange for my admission of guilt. They were even denying me that last wish. Now listen to me carefully, for we have little time left. Tomorrow, at dawn, I shall be executed for high treason. They will take my life and confiscate all my possessions. You will be left penniless and forced to live like a beggar unless you do exactly as I say.”

  There was no room left in Mauricio’s mind to worry about his uncertain future. Motherless and possessing neither brothers nor sisters, whatever he was he owed to the person who had cared for him since childhood with tenderness, patience, and love. Had it been possible, he would not have hesitated for a moment to take his father’s place, for his only wish was for the salvation of the man who was still trying to guide him, even now, from the very depths of the pit of sorrow that fate had assigned as his ultimate dwelling place. However, the only choice left to him was to listen to the instructions from that paternal voice, every word laden with doom.

  “You must search for a jewel of incalculable value hidden in our home in Barcelona. As you know, the entrance hall of our house is made up of tiles laid out in eight black and white rows, like a chessboard. Under the tile where you would place the white king, you will discover a ring crowned with the most beautiful emerald you could possibly imagine. Not even King Solomon at the very height of his glory could have possessed such a precious jewel.”

  Mauricio was completely taken aback. The textile trade was prosperous, but not to the extent of purchasing such a fabulous jewel. Hidden there, lay a great secret. The secret for which his father had been able to withstand such atrocious torture that even his captors had to admit defeat. The secret that he wanted to pass on before he died. The secret whose radiance would mark Mauricio’s life. His father, by this time, was speaking slowly and haltingly, and, by dint of enormous effort, took several deep breaths before continuing.

  “When you find the ring, cross the Pyrenees swiftly, with no looking back. Do not tarry or you will be incriminated for being in possession of family property that should have been confiscated with the rest of our belongings. Do not try and sell it secretly either or a moneylender will offer you a ridiculous price in exchange for not giving you away. Follow my counsel and go to Florence, the prodigious city,” he urged while close by the hoarse laughter of the guards could be heard behind the door. “Lorenzo Il Magnifico, the magnanimous prince without a crown, is the governor of that city and his great passion for precious stones is well known. There you can start a new life.”

  “Where does this stone come from, father? Is there something else I should know?” Mauricio demanded, hearing the creaking of the door hinges.

  His father coughed and breathlessly continued with his surprising utterances, ignoring the jailer’s footsteps.

  “I should have explained so many things to you while I still had time … I am a descendant of Jews and, although you might not like this, a certain number of our family were moneylenders. It is possible that they took the ring as a guarantee against an unpaid debt, though I am not sure, as the jewel has been passed from father to son for centuries. Accustomed as they are to persecutions
, Jews have always observed the habit of keeping objects of great value, which could easily be transported or concealed. In that way, should they be forced into exile, they could always rebuild their lives in another country after selling whatever valuable object they had discreetly brought with them, just as you should now do.”

  “Your time’s up,” announced the jailer.

  His father broke down in tears and Mauricio clasped him to his chest, wishing to convey in that final contact all the love that he had sometimes been unable to express: a love that flowed with more strength than he had ever felt, an uncontrollable torrent of emotion sweeping aside everything in its path. Gone was the overflowing latrine, the lurking rats sensing death, the slimy contents of an earthen bowl masquerading as food, gone was the disfigured face of his father. All that remained was love. An immense love that soared up like a chant, as if the dismal cell were, in reality, a cathedral of the spirit.

  “Do you know,” muttered his father, “I sometimes wonder if the Grand Rabbi Abraham Abulafia might have punished me for being the first of his descendants to betray the Jewish faith. Pray for me, I beg of you.”

  Questions pierced Mauricio’s mind like lacerating arrows but nevertheless, to save his father from more pain, he kept the anxieties rising up inside him to himself. It had never even crossed his mind that Jewish blood ran through his veins. That confession implied that his grandparents had not been true Christians, but merely marranos: false converts, who practiced their Jewish rites in secret. Mauricio felt the heavy hands of the guards grabbing him from behind and he clung to his father with all his strength.

  “Do not lose heart, father. God awaits you once you have left this inferno.”

  When the jailers finally managed to pry them apart, Mauricio knew it would be the last time he would ever see his father. His last words echoed within him like a blessing.

  “My death will be a new beginning, my son. The bad luck that has blighted our family will be forever buried with my lifeless body. Whatever sins we may have committed in the past will be forgotten. You will start a new life in Florence and good fortune will accompany you. All hopes for the future of our lineage reside in you, the last living Coloma of our household. May our past not prove to have been a voyage undertaken in vain. Remember these words, my last words, and do as I told you. Accept my dying voice as that of one who knows.”

  2

  Florence, Italy

 

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