'It is growing late, and I understand that we must depart early tomorrow,' Sofia said. 'I should retire.'
Longo took a candle from the table and led her out of the dining room, into the open courtyard at the heart of the villa, and up a set of stairs. He stopped before a room overlooking the courtyard and opened the door.
'Good-night, Princess,' he said, but neither of them moved. They stood facing one another, silhouetted in the doorway. Their eyes met, and this time neither of them looked away. Suddenly Sofia stepped forward and kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm. Longo kissed her back, hard, but then she pulled away. Her cheeks and neck were flushed. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Longo looked into her eyes and saw confusion and panic. He took a step back, putting more distance between them.
'Forgive me,' Sofia said at last. 'That was wrong of me.' Longo said nothing, waiting for her to finish. 'I… Perhaps I should take another ship to Ostia tomorrow, if that is possible.'
Longo nodded. 'There is a ship sailing for Rome before sunrise tomorrow. I will see that you and Leontarsis are safely aboard.'
'Thank you, Signor Giustiniani,' Sofia said. Their eyes met again, and she looked away. 'And thank you for your kindness. Good-night, and God be with you.'
She slipped into her room and closed the door behind her. Longo stood there for several minutes until finally, he turned and walked slowly away. Longo returned to Genoa two days later. Julia was quiet and brooding throughout the trip and only answered his questions with curt replies. Longo guessed that she was still suffering from seasickness.
When they reached the Grimaldi palazzo, Julia hurried inside with hardly a word to Longo. He mounted his horse, but just before he rode out of the courtyard Grimaldi called out for him to wait. Longo turned to find him striding out of the palazzo, and Julia standing in the doorway, watching. Longo dismounted and clasped hands with Grimaldi.
'Did you have a good trip?' Grimaldi studied Longo.
'The sea was calm, and business is well.'
'Julia tells me that you spent a great deal of time alone with Princess Sofia. I trust that nothing untoward happened between you.'
'Of course not,' Longo said. But an image of Sofia kissing him burned in his mind, and he looked away.
'Good,' Grimaldi replied, 'because the time has come: Julia is ready to wed.'
'But she is young yet, is she not?'
'She is fourteen, old enough to bear children,' Grimaldi said. 'In two weeks' time, you will marry.' Longo did not reply. He thought of Sofia, laughing aboard la Fortuna as the sea spray hit her. 'It is not a suggestion, signor,' Grimaldi insisted.
'I will be honoured to marry her,' Longo replied.
Chapter 8
FEBRUARY 1450: ROME
Sofia stood before the tall, bronze doors of the pope's court, biting her lip as she waited for her first audience with Pope Nicholas. Leontarsis stood to her right, tugging at the jewelled collar of his ceremonial caftan, the letter from the Synaxis gripped tightly in his other hand. They had arrived in Rome a week earlier to find the pope gone, meeting with the German king Frederick III somewhere to the north. The delay had given Sofia time to explore the city. It was a marvel unlike any she had ever seen. Genoa, with its close-packed buildings perched over the bay, had impressed her, and she had been awed by Venice, a city magically built upon water. But Rome tugged at her heart in a way that those cities had not, perhaps because it was so very much like Constantinople. Rome, too, was filled with the ruins left by centuries of empire — the baths of Caracalla, the Colosseum and the forum — but unlike Constantinople, it was a bustling city, vibrant again after centuries of decay. New buildings were rising everywhere, many built from the very stones of ancient Rome. The old Roman forum had come to life once more, holding a daily market. Everywhere there were signs of prosperity. Constantinople was still the capital of the Roman Empire, but Rome was now the glory of Christendom.
And at the root of it all was Pope Nicholas. Sofia had learned all she could about him over the past week. Although only the son of a physician, he had risen quickly through the ranks of the church due to a prodigious memory and an insatiable love of learning. Elected a little under three years ago, he had already overseen the end of the Avignon Papacy and brokered an agreement with Frederick III that restored the rights of the pope vis-a-vis the German king. Now, he had turned his attention to the East. He wished to aid the Greeks, but he was firmly against any union that did not place him at the head of a unified church. He would not react well to the Synaxis' letter. Still, he loved Greek scholarship, and perhaps Sofia could use that to her advantage.
The doors before Sofia swung inward, revealing a long hall illuminated by rows of windows on either side and filled with expensively dressed courtiers and more humbly dressed religious men. As a herald announced them, Leontarsis and Sofia strode through the crowd, Sofia looking past the finery around her to the pope. She had expected an older man, grey-haired and emanating beatific authority, but Pope Nicholas V proved to be a handsome, polished man in his early fifties. He had sharp Italian features and deep, intelligent eyes ringed with black, the eyes of a man who read much and slept little. He was seated on a small throne in full papal regalia — white robes, a conical hat and a staff in his hand. When Leontarsis reached the foot of the throne, he knelt and kissed the pope's ring. Sofia followed suit. The pope bid them rise and welcomed them in Greek.
'Andronicus Bryennius Leontarsis, Princess Sofia, you are both welcome,' he began, his accent flawless. 'We are honoured by the presence of such illustrious ambassadors. I hope and pray that your stay will be a fruitful one.'
Leontarsis bowed again. 'Your Holiness, it is we who are honoured by your most gracious reception. On behalf of my lord, the emperor Constantine, I must express our thanks for your wise leadership of the unified Church and your constant friendship towards us. He offers his friendship in return and begs that you consider this letter from the Synaxis of Eastern bishops.'
'Ah yes, the unified Church,' Nicholas said as he took the letter and set it aside, unopened. 'I am sure that we will have much to discuss concerning the unified Church. But what of you, Princess Sofia? Do you also bring a message from your emperor? Or shall you allow your beauty to speak for you?'
So he was charming as well as handsome, Sofia thought. 'I never allow my beauty to speak for me,' she replied in Latin. And then in Italian, 'I find words to be much more eloquent.'
'Indeed, as the Bible says, "Speech finely framed delighteth the ears",' Nicholas quoted. 'But I am amazed. You are a linguist, then, as well as a beauty.'
'The two are not mutually exclusive, Your Holiness, although it has been truly said, "Men trust their ears less then their eyes".'
'Herodotus!' Nicholas exclaimed, clapping his hands together. 'You are a scholar then as well. All the better. I greatly prize scholarship. As you have no doubt read, "There is only one good — knowledge — and one evil — ignorance".'
'Surely, Socrates believed so,' Sofia said, and Nicholas beamed with pleasure. 'But scholarship alone is a poor teacher. Was it not Heraclitus who wrote, "Much learning does not teach understanding"?'
'Yes indeed,' Nicholas agreed. 'And you might have added, "there is nothing so ridiculous but some philosopher has said it".' He arched his eyebrows questioningly.
'Cicero, Your Holiness.'
Nicholas nodded his satisfaction. 'Your learning does you honour, Princess Sofia. I must introduce you to one of your learned countrymen who has done me the honour of residing at my court: the Cardinal Bessarion. He is a wise man, who has taught me much.'