She waited until the last moving words were said and then shooed all the painted hussies from the giant bed. Admiral Slovo stoically endured being clambered over by young female flesh and was polite enough to utter his thanks as each body passed. They moved as swiftly as they could, for fear of Lucrezia’s whip – there’d been enough of that in the night.
In private at last, the Duchess offered the Admiral a compliant smile. ‘There,’ she said, ‘I don’t suppose you always get such a warm welcome from the Vehme.’
Admiral was leaning over the side of the bed, ensuring that his boots (and thus the concealed stiletto) were still in easy reach. Only then could he relax sufficiently to frame a reply. ‘No indeed,’ he said. ‘Imposition on my own hospitality and bulk consumption of my wine is more the norm. Therefore I thank you for a night of quite exquisite diversion, not to mention surprises.’
‘How so?’ asked Lucrezia, intrigued. She had seen the Admiral as a challenge, a grand test of her bedroom skills, little expecting such a return in physical and mental stimulation.
‘I don’t refer to the extension of my erotic range, as you might think,’ he mused – and Lucrezia looked disappointed, ‘but to the revelations about your status. I must confess that I never suspected you of leadership of the Borgia clan, let alone membership of the Vehme. I am getting old and unobservant.’
Lucrezia was thinking her own thoughts about the passing of years and, at the advanced age of thirty, had been hopeful of a compliment on her continuing loveliness and her mettlesome performance in bed. However, she kindly overlooked the Admiral’s incivility. Those same years had provided ample opportunity to become hardened to the selfishness of men.
‘The deception was fully intentional,’ she said. ‘I am only too gratified to hear of its success. In each Borgia generation one member is pre-eminent by virtue of their ambition or drive. Daddy, I grant you, was a good Pope – religious considerations aside – and poor dead Cesare was excellent at frightening people. Juan and Joffre, whilst not much use for anything else, could at least breed and restock the line. I was the one chosen to lead, although forced to dissimulate and adopt a secret guiding role by my sex and the prejudice of the age. We haven’t done so badly out of it, all things considered, and the Vehme seemed to concur with the family’s appointment.’
‘Is that general Borgia knowledge?’ asked Slovo, rearranging their scarlet sheets to protect his modesty.
‘Oh no!’ said the Duchess, uncovering herself again. ‘That’s my own little secret. Besides, I’m not a full initiate, admitted into the perfection of their embrace. My Christian beliefs, increasingly persuasive as I … age, preclude me from that.’
‘Most commendable,’ said Admiral Slovo, and rested his head back on the opulent pillows. Through the window he could see across the City Square to where the Cathedral of St George faced the d’Este family ‘Tower of the Lions’ in which he now lay. Morning was already well advanced and the distant noise of commerce wafted up to disturb the idyll. ‘I hesitate to foreclose this interlude of delight,’ he said, ‘but shouldn’t we consider the return of Duke Alfonso?’
Lucrezia snorted her contempt.
‘If he visited my boudoir, I’d die of surprise rather than a cuckold’s revenge,’ she said. ‘True, early in our marriage, he built a “secret” passage between my rooms and his, hoping to take me unawares in illicit passion, but it remains unused. Perhaps that’s just as well since I’ve had it booby-trapped. But no, Admiral, I’d need to dress up as a cannon before he’d show any such interest as you fear!’
‘Yes,’ said Slovo, ‘when I met the Duke he did in fact speak to me of his great love for artillery – at some length.’
‘He spends his days at the cannon foundry he’s created – in search of the perfect piece of ordnance. Still, it does at least further the cause of the Ferraran State which he inherited and I run. Our army is well served, even if I am not.’
‘Many ladies of quality would envy your marital arrangements,’ said the Admiral, ‘wishing their husbands would attend more to Mars than Venus. Certainly, Duke Alfonso fought creditably when we were together last year at Ghiaradadda.’
‘Yes,’ said Lucrezia archly, ‘he saves his performances for the battlefield.’ Seeing the Admiral’s attention was distracted, she added, ‘Oh, I do apologize for the noise incidentally …’
Admiral Slovo was well aware of the cause of the sound of padding feet and the occasional sob coming from above. Duke Alfonso’s two half-brothers, Giulio and Ferrante, had been imprisoned there, one above the other in windowless cells, since a bungled coup attempt five years ago. What the Admiral could not know was that they were to remain there, fed by manna descending through a hole in the ceiling, unmentioned and unlamented by their family, for fifty-three and forty-three years respectively. It had amused Duke Alfonso to house them within audible range of his intimidating wife.
A Gascon priest, similarly involved, had been less favourably treated. Since no secular prince could lawfully execute a priest, Alfonso had housed him in an external hanging cage and was content to let winter or hunger do the deed. In the event, there had proven to be one kind person in the Castle and he or she had dropped the priest a cloth with which to hang himself. His body still resided in the cage, a gruesome sight for the Admiral to feast his eyes upon when he’d arrived.
Aware therefore of such tokens of Ducal displeasure, Admiral Slovo still felt he had good cause to fear Alfonso’s revenge. However, he was too courteous to return to the topic. Brushing her questing hand away from his privates, he said, ‘Rest at ease, Duchess,’ and levered himself out of bed, gathering his clothes for fear of further intimacy developing. ‘At least your husband made himself most useful to us. Among other things, the Ferraran artillery proved decisive in confounding the Venetians.’
‘And not just the Venetians,’ said Lucrezia with a sly smile.
‘Ah,’ said the Admiral, climbing into his tights. ‘So you’ve received a briefing about that then?’
‘About the Te Deum and the Filing Cabinet? Of course! I insisted on full disclosure from the Vehme as a pre-condition to declaring war on so powerful a neighbour as Venice. By the by, they positively sang your praises afterwards – and rightly so. It’s not everyone who gets to snuff out a religion.’
Slovo was brushing his straight, silver hair and turned to face the recumbent Duchess. ‘As I constantly state,’ he said, ‘I fear the “snuffed” candle will one day re-light. We have retained simplicity and man-scaled civilization for a few generations more, that is all.’
‘Well, as for the future,’ said Lucrezia, ‘the Vehme have other wonders for you to perform nearer to home.’
‘Surely not Capri?’
‘The Church.’
‘I wondered when they’d dare to tackle it!’ said Slovo. ‘They are aware, I hope, that they cannot count on my total engagement in this project?’
‘Oh yes,’ Lucrezia hurried to say. ‘You and I are in a similar case with our affection for Mother Church. Still, there is no harm in letting the Vehme chance their arm – and lose it.’
‘You make a good case, Madame,’ said the Admiral, in full agreement. ‘It is written that one must not put God to the test, but I recall nothing to that effect in scripture relating to his earthly representatives. It will be an interesting experiment. What do they want of me?’
‘Against so formidable an opponent, the Vehme first propose to divide before they conquer. Their aim is to split the Church.’
Slovo was helping himself to a reviving glass of wine. ‘Between saints and sinners?’ he asked as he poured. ‘Believers and the ambitious?’