The Queen's Companion

by Maggi Petton

  The bulge beneath the tutor’s robe was all Thomas needed to know that he had succeeded in his goal for the evening. After Mario left, he sat back and poured himself another glass of the sweet liquor. He smiled to himself as he paged through the drawings of Michelangelo.

  “Now, my sweet Sofia, we will be meeting in your classroom two days a week. How will you like that?” Bishop Capshaw asked the princess on the first day of his arrival in her classroom.

  “I like that just fine, Your Grace,” Sofia answered happily. “And James will like it, too. He is to join me for lessons starting today!” she announced with obvious great delight.

  This fact caught Thomas off guard, but he recovered quickly. “I am certain that I would enjoy meeting with James, too, but don’t forget that our little meetings are for us alone. You are the Princess, after all, and require special lessons that are only designed for Royalty, my dear.”

  “Oh,” Sofia looked sad.

  “But if you like I will talk to your parents about including James. Would you like me to do that?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you, thank you!” Sofia lit up at the suggestion.

  “But,” the Bishop continued, “you must let me talk to them. You must not utter a word.”

  “I understand. It will be another secret,” the child whispered conspiratorially.

  The Bishop smiled and wrapped Sofia in his arms in a great hug, disappearing before James arrived.

  A few days later Master Barone was in the middle of the children’s Latin lesson when the caretaker, Mary, entered the classroom. James ran up to her and threw his arms around her. Sofia waited, smiling, until James had finished his greeting.

  “Princess Sofia,” Mary smiled as Sofia allowed herself to be wrapped in a warm hug. “You are to come with me for a bit.”

  Sofia looked to Master Barone. “It is fine,” he said, “you will be back soon.”

  Mary took Sofia down through a small door at the back of the library, through a secret passageway that led to the chapel where Bishop Capshaw waited.

  “But what about James?” Sofia asked him after she arrived.

  “I am afraid it is not to be.” The Bishop shook his head sadly apologetically.

  “But why…why can’t he come, too? Doesn’t he need to learn about God?”

  The Bishop dropped his head as he answered, “Princess, I tried to obtain permission for James, but your mother would not allow it. I am sorry,” he lied.

  “But how will James learn about God?” Sofia was concerned.

  Bishop Capshaw got up from where he sat next to Sofia and walked toward the altar.

  “Come here, Sofia.”

  Sofia went to him and knelt next to him in front of the altar.

  “We must pray for your mother so that she might come to understand that James needs this instruction, as well. I fear that she and Lady Isabella believe they are fulfilling James’ religious instruction by taking him to Mass with Father Timothy in Castiglione d’ Orcia.” Thomas Capshaw bowed his head and folded his hands in reverence and prayed. Sofia emulated him as the bishop began to pray. “Heavenly Father, please help the queen to see that her sins harm those she loves…and those of us who love her so dearly.” He opened his hands and turned them toward the crucifix in supplication. With a look of utter pain, and tears in his eyes he continued, “Lord, show us the way to help Sofia’s mother. She does not understand the harm that she does to the children.”

  Sofia’s tears dripped down her face and fell onto the stone floor of the altar as she listened to the bishop. He was quiet for a time, then whispered just loud enough for Sofia to hear, “Yes, Lord. I understand.”

  Thomas Capshaw turned his body to sit upon the stone step to the altar. He opened his arms to Sofia and she climbed into his lap. “It will be fine, little one. But God needs us to be in constant prayer. We must pray in earnest that your mother will, in time, come to understand what you already seem to know.”

  “What is it, Your Grace? What do I know?” Sofia looked up at him.

  “You know that God is here…in this Chapel. You know that God loves her…and that I love her. But she does not know that. The Queen imagines that I despise her.”

  “She does?” Sofia’s eyes opened wide. “Why?”

  “Satan and Father Timothy have poisoned her mind. Not all in the Church are of God. We must pray that she finds her way back to the truth.”

  Fear flowed from the child’s face. Sofia wriggled off the Bishop’s lap and knelt at the altar. Her tears flowed as she prayed. “Please, God, help my mother.”

  “Sofia,” Bishop Capshaw said softly as he walked her to the door. “We must not speak of this struggle to anyone. God wants your mother to come back to Him on her own. You must not let her know that we pray for her soul and her return to grace.” He knelt in front of her and his eyes filled with tears. “I will continue to try to arrange for James to be allowed to come here with you, but only if you promise to say nothing about our visits, or how concerned we are for her soul.”

  Sofia threw her arms around the Bishop’s neck and sobbed into his shoulder. “I promise. I promise.” When she finally finished crying he released her and placed his hands on her face.

  “It will be fine, my little Princess. Have faith. God is on our side.” He smiled at her as she sniffed.

  He opened the doors to the Chapel where Mary waited to return her to class.

  That evening at dinner in the Great Hall Catherine noticed that Sofia ate little.

  “What is it, Sofia? Are you feeling ill?” she asked.

  “I’m not very hungry,” the child responded.

  “Come here, love.” Catherine opened her arms and pulled Sofia into her lap. Sofia allowed her mother’s arms to enfold her. She sank against her mother’s breast and released a sigh so large that Bella reached out to feel the child’s face.

  “What is it, Sofia?” Bella asked. “You seem so forlorn…like you have lost your best friend.”

  “Nothing.” But as she buried her face against her mother again, she began to weep. Catherine excused herself from the dining table and carried Sofia up to her quarters where she sat with her in the rocking chair that still remained from when Sofia and James were babies.

  As Catherine rocked her daughter, she stroked her hair and whispered, “Whatever it is, my darling, all will be well. Just cry if you need to. Sometimes we all need to cry.”

  Sofia fell asleep in her mother’s arms.

  “Ah, Master Barone,” Bishop Capshaw said. Both men were leaving the dining hall at the same time. “I have been craving some intellectual company this evening. Will you do me the honor of joining me for a drink in my quarters?”

  “Oh, Your Grace,” he stammered. Mario blushed and could not meet the bishop’s eyes.

  “I will take any refusal as a personal insult, I must warn you!” the bishop said playfully.

  “Well, then, Your Grace, it appears I have no choice. I would not want to insult you.” Mario Barone smiled.

  The Bishop poured them each a glass of wine and brought one over to where Mario sat.

  “To stimulating conversation,” the Bishop raised his glass.

  “To stimulating conversation, then, Your Grace.” Mario Barone lifted his glass and touched it to the Bishop’s

  “Have you read Homer?” Bishop Capshaw began.

  The tutor looked with some surprise at the Bishop. “It is impossible to avoid Homer when studying the classics. Have you read Homer, then?”

  “It was impossible to avoid many things when I was in Rome. Homer, Dante. I must admit that I was surprised to find so many in the Church well versed in the classics.”

  “What of the ban on such materials, Your Grace?” Master Barone’s expression was one of concern. “Have not such materials been banned by the Church?”

  “They have indeed.” Thomas Capshaw rose from his seat and walked over to his extensive bookshelf. “And not only have such books been banned, but you are probably aware that Pope
Paul was instrumental in having the genitalia of the works of Michelangelo, as well as others, covered. He felt they were obscene and had no place in the Church.”

  “I had heard that, yes.” Mario stood and walked over to join the Bishop at the bookshelf. He began to look through the titles that lined the shelves. “And how do you feel about the bans, Your Grace?”

  “May I confide in you, Master Barone?” the bishop lowered his voice to a whisper.

  “Of course.”

  “It saddens me that such great works of art, poetry, philosophy and science are forbidden. I believe that such works are important to the improvement of civilization. How can we progress, as a people, if we deny the exploration and discussion inherent in the creation and expression of thought?” The bishop turned away from the tutor, hiding his face. He shook his head and walked back over to the couch where they had been sitting.

  “You are an unusual man, Your Grace.” Mario continued to peruse the bookshelf. “One full of surprises.”

  “Not unpleasant surprises, I hope?”

  Mario Barone smiled as he made his way to sit next to the Bishop. “Not unpleasant, no. One, in fact, whose sentiments reflect my own.”

  “Perhaps, then, I might confide in you about something.”

  “Of course, what is it?” the tutor said with worry.

  “I am concerned about Princess Sofia’s safety.” Again, the bishop stood. He placed the fingertips of his hands together, tapping them ever so slightly as he paced in front of Mario. “I am more relieved than you know that she has you to teach her.” He sat back down, closer to Mario, as he continued. “I am in a difficult position as her confessor and her bishop. It is my duty to protect her from heretical thoughts and ideas…to teach her the difference.” The Bishop looked directly into Master Barone’s eyes, searching them.

  Mario Barone’s face registered a mild look of fear. “Your Grace, I would never teach the Princess anything against the Church!”

  The Bishop placed his hand on Mario’s shoulder. “I believe you. And I trust that you have Princess Sofia’s best interests at heart. But I wonder if I might ask you a favor.”

  “Anything, Your Grace.”

  Bishop Capshaw brought his hands together, interlacing his fingers, and rested his chin on them momentarily. “I have reason to believe that the Princess may be in danger.”

  “How so?” Mario’s look was one of both fear and shock.

  “I am not at liberty to discuss the matter, and I am still investigating, but the important thing is that the time the Princess spends with me be absolutely confidential. I will continue to have Mary pick her up and deliver her to me at the church, but do not want James to know that she is with me.” The Bishop paused here and seemed hesitant to continue. Finally, he said, “This is the difficult part, Mario,” and here he rested his left hand on Mario’s thigh, “I believe it vital to Sofia’s safety that absolutely no one knows about her studies with me. Although her parents have assigned her religious studies to me, I don’t want to worry them with my fears about Sofia’s safety.”

  “Do you not think it wise for the king and queen to be apprised of the danger?” Mario asked.

  The Bishop drew his right hand across the tutor’s shoulders as he leaned against him. His left hand still rested on Mario’s thigh and slid slightly upward toward his groin as the Bishop leaned in to whisper. “Mario,” the Bishop drew himself close to the tutor and whispered in his ear, “it is from the queen I believe she is in danger. I can say no more.”

  The teacher said nothing, but adjusted his posture to try to hide his erection.

  “Now,” said the Bishop as he leaned back in his seat, “about Homer. What is your opinion of how he portrays Ganymede’s abduction by Zeus?”

  Chapter Forty Four

  Summer 1566

  In spite of Lord Carfaggi’s objection, Catherine announced plans to visit Radicondoli. She had made it a point to visit the hometowns of every other Privy Council member and had still not been to Carfaggi’s home. It was time.

  “Your Majesty,” Lord Carfaggi pleaded, “I have been in continual contact with my family, my friends and my business associates. I assure you they have things well under control. You needn’t bother yourself with a trip there.”

  “It’s no bother at all, Lord Carfaggi. I don’t wish to slight the good people of Radicondoli. They are as much a part of the kingdom of Montalcino as all my other subjects. And, I look forward to meeting with your family”.

  The threat Carfaggi posed during the years of his cousin’s reign as Pope diminished slightly after Carafa’s death, but Lord Carfaggi continued the harsh criticism of heresy; and he still had friends in high places in Rome and throughout the kingdom of Montalcino. The new Pope, Pius IV, was slightly more moderate in his views, but there were few changes with regard to the Inquisition.

  As Catherine thought about leaving for Radicondoli, she was aware that Sofia was more subdued than usual. One evening at dinner, Catherine watched as Sofia kept her head bowed and hands in prayer. She stayed in prayer long past the grace given by Bishop Capshaw.

  “Bella,” she nodded in the direction of Sofia. Her look conveyed her concern.

  Bella shook her head. “Something is troubling her. I have tried to get her to talk to me, but she just seems to disappear within herself.”

  “She has always been serious, but lately she seems perfectly unhappy. I think I will speak with Master Barone, perhaps her studies are weighing on her. She puts so much pressure on herself to excel at everything.”

  As the women spoke in low whispers at the main table, Mario Barone watched. He saw the Queen indicate her daughter to the Lady Isabella. He looked to the Bishop, who had also noted the focus of their concern. Bishop Capshaw looked at the tutor and sadly shook his head.

  “Your Majesty,” the Queen’s secretary announced, “Master Barone, the tutor, is here.”

  “Thank you, Antonio. Show him in.”

  “Your Majesty.” Mario Barone bowed.

  “Please sit, Master Barone. Would you like some wine?” she offered as she poured herself a cup.

  “No, thank you, Highness.”

  She sat in the seat next to him. “I will get right to the reason I called you. I have noticed disturbing changes in my daughter recently. I am concerned. How are her studies proceeding?”

  Mario raised his eyebrows, his shoulders shrugged slightly. “Her studies reflect no problems, Majesty. She is very bright, very attentive. Her ability to grasp more complex concepts is advanced for her age. I do not observe any difficulty with her learning.”

  “Would you say that she is eager regarding her studies?”

  “Quite eager, Highness. She and the boy, James, both seem to enjoy their lessons immensely.”

  Catherine got up from her chair and moved to the other side of her desk. She sat. Her brow knit together as she pondered her daughter’s recent behavior.

  “Majesty, if I may speak?” Master Barone intruded on her thoughts.

  “Please do.”

  “I would not be overly concerned. Princess Sofia is an excellent student. She is absorbing a lot of new information. It has been my experience that children often become more serious as they begin to understand more of what they are learning.”

  “You believe it will pass, then?” the queen asked.

  “There are no assurances, Majesty, but if the issue is simply a matter of adjusting to new information, then yes, I believe it will.”

  The Queen stood and walked over to the other side of her desk. “Thank you for your time, and your insights, Master Barone. Please let me know if you have any further thoughts.”

  Mario Barone bowed and left.

  When Mary arrived at the Church with Princess Sofia the Bishop was in prayer at the altar. His eyes were closed. It seemed he did not hear them enter, although the doors were quite noisy as they opened and closed.

  Mary coughed discreetly.

  The Bishop started and turned. “Ah, Ma
ry, I did not hear you enter.”

  Mary curtsied, left her charge and waited outside.

  “Sofia, come here.”

  Sofia rose and went to the altar to join the Bishop.

  “I was deep in prayer for your mother…and for you. Please kneel and join me in prayer.”

  Sofia dutifully knelt, bowed her head and closed her eyes tightly as the Bishop prayed.

  “Heavenly Father we beseech you to hear our humble prayers. The Princess and I love You. We know that You wish us to obey all of the rules of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. We know this is the one, true way to You and to heaven. We ask you to help the Queen, Sofia’s dear mother, to understand that You love her and we are desperate to save her from the fires of hell…and from the fires of earth.”

  He paused in his recitation and looked down at Sofia who was intently praying and listening to his every word. He continued, “Lord, we know from Your teachings that Father Timothy does not follow the law of the one, true Church. The Queen is fooled by his teachings and allows herself to be led by this false priest. Please help her to see that if she continues her visits there she will be endangering herself and her family. You know, Lord, as do I, that it is at the urging of the Lady Isabella that the Queen has fallen into the trap laid by Father Timothy. Help her. You have made clear your desire for us to identify heretics, but we love Queen Catherine. Help us to know what to do. We are your humble servants. Please guide us and direct us as You will. And, Lord, help the queen to understand that her relationship with the Lady Isabella is sinful. Amen.”

  “Amen,” whimpered Sofia through her tears.

  The journey to Radicondoli was shorter than many of the others they had made over the years. Barring difficulty, Radicondoli was only a few days from Montalcino Castle. However, Robert increased the number of soldiers travelling with the Queen. Since Carafa’s death, and the installation of Pope Julius, the number of fanatical attacks had risen. Robert wasn’t taking any chances.

  Bella no longer attended any of the town functions, preferring to stay in camp to work with James on his lessons.