by L. E. Waters
“You’re not allowed in here!” I shout at him.
His guards begin fighting our guards, as Don Michelotto and Cesare come to the foot of Alfonso’s bed.
“I have business with your husband!” He throws down three arrows on the bed.
Sancia yells, “I think you’ve done enough, Cesare, leave now!”
“Oh, you think I’ve landed him in this sick bed?”
“There’s no doubt it was you,” Sancia spits.
“I did not attack your weakling husband, but if I had, it would have been no more deserved!”
“What has Alfonso done to you?” I scream.
“Everything!” he screams back. “What hasn’t he taken from me?”
Alfonso stirs and tries to talk. “Lucrezia, I will handle this.” He attempts to sit up, wincing and holding his head.
“It is I who have been wronged,” Cesare says. “Your guards shot these arrows at me while I was walking in the courtyard. One nearly hit my head.”
“That is not true,” I state.
“It is true,” Alfonso replies. “I instructed them to kill him.”
Sancia looks proud, and I realize quickly that she must have delivered his order for him.
“Listen, you imp, you’re lucky it was Orsini and not Don Michelotto that met you on those steps. If he had, you would already be rotting in your Naples mausoleum!”
Cesare bends over Alfonso on the bed, and Sancia and I try to push him back, but he says slowly, “What has begun at breakfast will be finished by supper.”
He walks back out with Don Michelotto and his guards.
“I hate lying here like a useless child.” Alfonso throws his head back on the pillow but then winces in pain.
“Sancia, go to your cousin again and plead for him to come with an envoy to bring Alfonso to safety. I fear every night he’s still within these walls. I know the doctor says he can’t be moved yet, but tell him he’s in great peril.”
As she runs off, Alfonso studies me. “You’re so beautiful, my guardian angel.”
I lie across his chest and hold on tight. I feel fear running through me every moment; I can’t sleep unless Sancia is there. She’s the only one I can truly trust. I’ll send her with Alfonso to Naples and leave with Rodrigo as soon as Father will grant me permission. I hate the thought of leaving him.
Sancia quickly returns and breathless from running up the tower stairs, she says, “King Frederico replied he’ll send his men at once.” Smiling in triumph, she sits beside Alfonso on his bed.
“My two angels.” He takes her hand.
The next day, we hear the trumpets and peer out to see the beautiful sight of the small envoy with the colors and flags of Naples.
“They’ve made it!” I cry. “Sancia come look.”
Sancia runs over. “It’s a miracle! God is on our side!”
I tell his groomsmen, “Please, pack up the duke’s things. He’ll be leaving shortly.”
“Do you need to get your things as well, sister?” Alfonso asks.
“I have been ready for a week!” She smiles.
“Sancia, help me dress him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! It’s been a month and as much as I’d enjoy you dressing me, I think I’ll draw the line at my sister. Turn away, Sancia.”
“Fine.” She turns. “It hasn’t dawned on you that I’ve changed your bed sheets for a month, but I’ll let you salvage whatever dignity you have left.”
We all laugh.
“Easy, Lucrezia, easy!” He squeals as I try to get him into his pants too fast.
Once he’s dressed, Sancia’s hitting the bottom of his boots, trying to get them on. “Did they stab your foot too? It has swollen double the size!” She chuckles as she pinches both sides of his foot and tries in one motion to squish it into the stiff leather.
“Ouch! I think Cesare would be kinder to me!”
Sancia drops the boot and grabs her sides in laughter. We’ve been stressed for so long, it’s such a relief to feel everything will be okay. The door opens, and in walks a handsome white-haired man with at least twelve strong men behind him.
Sancia runs to him. “Uncle!”
She hugs him, and he gives her two kisses. “Lucrezia.” He bows. “Alfonso.” Another bow.
“Uncle, thank you for coming for me.”
“We had better hurry. At our entrance we saw three times our men rush to the opposite side of St. Peter’s in arms.”
He motions four men to go and lift Alfonso to carry him down. As they’re picking him up, Don Michelotto bursts through with two dozen men at the ready. “I’m under the orders of Cesare to keep the prisoner in the tower.”
“Prisoner?” I yell.
“Yes, he’s held until healed for the attempted murder of the Duke of Gandia.”
Sancia recoils. “The Duke of Gandia is already dead, murdered, and drowned by your master.”
“Seize them and bring them to the gaol. They’ve plotted to free the prisoner without the pope’s permission.”
“Why are you doing this, Michelotto?” I cry.
“I’m at the will of others, Duchess.” He bows his head and leaves, motioning his men to follow.
The soldiers lower Alfonso back down and let Michelotto’s men tie their hands and walk them out of the tower.
I run out of the room without thinking and hear Sancia close behind. I dash down the winding steps and head toward the pope’s apartments. When I throw the door open, Sancia has caught up, and Father sits straight up in his chair at our frantic interruption.
“Father! Father!” I can barely talk; I can’t catch my breath.
“What is it, child? Calm down!”
“They’ve imprisoned my uncle and the men from Alfonso’s envoy!” Sancia gets out.
“What envoy?”
“The envoy my king has sent to move Alfonso.”
“Who’s with Alfonso now?”
I see Sancia’s face lose all color, and I’m sure it mirrors mine. Without words, we both rush back up to the tower.
“Stupid women!” I cry as we clamor up the stairs.
“How could we fall into his trap!” Sancia cries.
Seeing the door, we know our worst fears have come true. Don Michelotto’s huge guards are blocking the door. Sancia and I throw ourselves at them, beating our fists on their armored chests.
“Let us by!”
“By order of the pope, I command you to step aside!” I scream.
They don’t budge.
“Alfonso!” Sancia shrieks.
The door opens, and Don Michelotto walks out, putting his gloves on. “He’s dead.”
“Aaaahhahhh!” I rip at him.
His guards pull me off him as Sancia runs into the room.
Her high-pitched scream makes my heart bleed as I realize what undoubtedly has just taken place.
I drop to the floor, and Michelotto says, “Leave her.”
I sob on the ground and then pull myself up to see Sancia draped across Alfonso’s still body. I sweep the covers up to hide the purple marks around his neck and fall on top of him, both lamenting at our great mistake.
“Brother!” she weeps over and over again.
“Husband!” I wail, as if we can undo time.
Chapter 10
As soon as the prisoners are released, Sancia readies to take Alfonso’s body with her uncle.
“I hate to leave you here, Lucrezia.”
“I can’t leave. I’m now the property of my father again. He’s forbidden me to go to his enemy.”
“I have to leave. I can’t stay one more day here, or I’ll kill Cesare myself.”
She gives me a kiss. “You must write me every day and visit when you can break away.”
“Leave a rose for me on his tomb.”
I start sobbing again and keep crying for hours in the dark room after she leaves. Knowing his body’s taken from me where I can’t go rips me in two. I know Father will look to marry me again, and that will mean I c
an’t be laid to rest beside Alfonso, ever.
I don’t eat for three weeks and only sleep or weep. I won’t get dressed or see Rodrigo. I pray for death to come every night, but every morning, my eyes open yet again.
Father comes in and draws the curtains.
I protest, “Leave them closed.”
“It’s time for you to get out of bed, Lucrezia.”
He sits beside me, making the mattress sag toward his weight.
“I’ll come out when I hear Cesare and Michelotto have been convicted of murder.”
“I too was furious and surprised at Cesare’s aggressive action, but he’s spoken to me and told me of how Alfonso sent his men to kill him in the courtyard. It’s only fair if he should seek revenge.”
I begin crying again. “Leave me.”
“Everyone’s talking about your absence from court since Alfonso’s death, and it taints the Borgia name—”
“I taint the Borgia name!” I sit up furiously in bed. “You and Cesare have destroyed the Borgia name! Everyone fears it, shakes at its mention, and you dare say I’m responsible for that!”
“It’s outbursts such as this that make me worry about your sanity. I’ll forgive you in this instance for your dishonor, but if you proceed to spew such venom for your brother and me, I’ll be forced to send you away so that no one can witness it.”
With that, he gets up to leave, and in a week, I’m sent off to grieve in the town of Nepi with Rodrigo. I dress head to toe in black and dress my whole envoy in black to show my grief to all who pass. Cesare comes daily to try to talk to me. I turn him away every day. I laugh, though, when I see him come armed with a hundred guards in full armor like he’s in jeopardy in my presence. I isolate myself and go for walks alone. Any time I can gather the energy, I have Rodrigo come in and see how fast he’s growing. He looks more and more like Alfonso every day. I’ll hold him back in my arms, gaze into his sparkling black eyes, and tickle him up to the two little moles on his jaw as he laughs so deeply he turns red. Only Rodrigo can make me laugh, but I feel unwell so frequently that it can be days before I see him again. I fear I will never function again.
I live for Rodrigo and for Sancia’s letters. Only she knows what a life without Alfonso feels like.
Sweet Sister,
I too am still mourning Alfonso’s loss. Every day I think of him and cry inside. The tragedy of his last moments still sends chills through me, and I will never have a light heart again. When you tell me you wish you were dead too, I understand how you must feel. Being a puppet in such careless hands. You must fear what your future will be, and that must extinguish all hope for any happiness. But when I hear you say that, Alfonso’s voice rings in my ear and tells me that he would never want you to be so unhappy without him, and he would want you to still shine for your son in his absence.
Even though I am away from you, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. It will be a joyful day when I get to kiss you and Rodrigo again.
Your sister always,
Sancia
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
A year passes and I still wear black, when a servant comes saying Cesare’s here again but without his guards.
“Bring him to me.”
Cesare walks in and kneels before me. Something takes over me, and I knock him in the head and don’t stop until my hands hurt. I fall over on him, and he holds me, saying, “I’m sorry,” again and again.
I pull myself together and sit across from him at the table in my room, where I take all my meals, not wanting to be social.
“You look beautiful even in black,” he flatters.
“I want to die.”
“What a waste that would be.” He puts his feet up on my table. “I bring you great news of potential riches beyond your wildest dreams.”
Only Cesare comes in and speaks this way after he sees how withdrawn I’ve become.
“Besides coming here to beg your forgiveness, I’ve been ransacking the Italian countryside, working my way toward Romagna. The only thing that stands in my way is the Duchy of Ferrara. The duke and his son Alfonso—”
I wince at the mention of his name.
“—are ammunition experts and present great challenge with their military prowess. Ferrara lies strategically between me and Romagna.”
I’m wondering how this concerns me.
“We need an alliance with Ferrara.”
“You’ll never get the Duke of Ferrara to consider me for marriage.”
Cesare laughs at how fast I catch on.
“Never say never, sister.” He pulls his legs back down to lean toward me. “Father and I have been working on this for months.”
I feel a twinge of anger that they’ve been advertising me in my anguish.
“First it was quite entertaining when Father offered you. Ercole d’Este wrote back that never would he give his son in marriage to a Borgia, with their frightful reputation. His son would never agree to such an unequal match with such upstart foreigners!” He laughs. “If Father and I didn’t have the sense of humor that we do, one would have been extremely insulted!” He gets up to continue his story from a more comfortable chair in front of the fire. “We persisted, and after an offer of two hundred thousand ducats in dowry and the threat of me and my allies’ attack, they started to come around. Ercole agreed as long as he received three things: a reduction of his annual contribution to the Church, the position of archpriest for his other son, and control of the cities of Cento and Pieve in addition to the Cesenatico harbor.”
I can’t believe he’s now telling me I’m betrothed again.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” He sits up. “Have you grown deaf in your mourning? This is wonderful news!”
“I have heard what you said and can hardly believe it. The Dukedom of Ferrara is far beyond our reach.”
“Not anymore. Your wedding is in a month. That’s as long as Father can generate the dowry.”
“And they’re letting me bring Rodrigo?”
“Oh, yes, that’s the fourth circumstance. Rodrigo will not go to Ferrara. In light of the… uh, um… scandal, Ercole thinks it’s best not to remind the people by his presence. He wants you to appear as a virgin bride.”
I feel sick again. How much is God going to ask me to bear?
I stand up. “Cesare, thank you for informing me, but I have a headache now and want to rest.”
“I understand. Father will be bringing an envoy within the week to bring you back to St. Peters to prepare for the joyous event.” He gives me a kiss on the lips and leaves.
Chapter 11
I write to Sancia immediately and beg her to come at once to Rome. It’s so nice having her with me again, but I know not to get too attached, since it’s only temporary. A month later, advisors sent from Ferrara come to have a marriage by proxy. Sancia stays away from wherever Cesare will be, so she declines coming to the wedding dinner. The whole capital is celebrating the much-talked-about union, and bells ring and beacons are lit as far as the eye can reach. Cesare and Father sit next to me and rejoice that night, but it’s bittersweet, since we all know Ferrara is quite a distance away.
“Lucrezia, you will enjoy this.”
Father pulls out from beside his chair a genealogy chart.
“What is this?”
“This is the Borgia family tree.” He starts smirking. “Ercole sent a request for our pedigree to be displayed for all at the wedding in Ferrara to see, so here it is.”
Cesare examines it closely. “I didn’t know that Don Pedro de Atares, lord of Borgia and pretender to the throne of Aragon, was directly related to us.”
Father begins to shake with laughter. “That’s because he’s not! He died childless, but not many know that.”
“Why lie?” I ask.
“Because Ercole is a smug son of a bitch and asked for this just to look better than us, so I spiced it up a bit.” He smiles proudly.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞�
��∞
I can’t sleep at all that night, knowing tomorrow will be the day I have to leave Rodrigo. I meet Sancia in the garden, and she holds my hand and pats my back.
“Lucrezia, you have no choice.”
Her eyes steady me. We both look on as nearly two-year-old Rodrigo runs around the garden, throwing rocks.
“I can only leave knowing he’ll have you.”
“I’ll take the best care of him and write to you about everything he does.”
I begin crying again.
“Will you tell him of me so he won’t forget?”
“I’ll talk of you so much he’ll feel as though you’re there.”
She gives me a long hug, and Rodrigo comes running into my arms, his cheeks rosy from the winter cold.
“Give Mama a kiss! I’ll be leaving, but Auntie Sancia will take good care of you.”
He puckers his tiny lips, gives me a kiss, and I watch them walk away with Sancia holding his little arm. When they’re out of sight, I break down.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Downtrodden from the sadness of the morning, I go to Father’s apartment. He’s there discussing with some advisors, and I sit at his feet with my head rested on his knee.
As soon as the advisors leave and we’re alone, he says, “Lucrezia, don’t look so distraught. This is the beginning of greatness for you.”
I say nothing.
“Cesare and I have worked very hard to achieve the unimaginable, something far beyond your birthright. You’ll someday be the Duchess of Ferrara!”
“I only wish Rodrigo could have come with me.”
“That’s a shame, but boys grow up fine without their mothers. He’ll have the best nurses to care for him and will want for nothing.”
He turns my head toward him with his hand under my chin. “You look lovely today.”
