The Botticelli Secret - By Marina Fiorato Page 0,166

As if there could be anything about that roll that I didn’t know, after I’d carried it around like a third arm for twice sennights.

“Yes—just a marking—here.”

“Where!”

“Look.”

Now I had to give him credit, for I’d not noticed a tiny marking on one of the flat ends—a little squiggle carved into the wood. “It looks like a snake.”

“Or an S.”

“S for what?”

“Seven? Sforza?”

“Sigismund?” I added.

“Who?”

Now the pupil became the schoolmaster as I explained about my trip to Bolzano, and Sigismund, white-haired king of the Alps who had such an odd love-hate relationship with my mother, a mountain full of silver, and a ring on his thumb.

“Of course. I suspected we should look to the mountains for the figure of Zephyrus, but I must admit I had in my mind the city of Trento, which has enormous political significance for the peninsula, as the location for many religious councils. I thought, as you did, that the blue color was suggestive of cold, and the height may denote great altitude.” That’s not exactly how I’d have put it, but I graciously accepted the compliment. “Well done. And you learned of the archduke’s part in all this?”

I explained about the conversation I’d overheard and my midnight trip to the mine. He did not comment on my ill-thought-out adventure but went straight to the meat of the matter.

“Well, that’s all clear enough. The Seven are clearly minting their own currency, using the template of the English angel coin, which is gold, but making a version of silver. Silver being the metal that is most plentiful in Sigismund’s region and all the Hapsburg lands. That must be why Zephyrus has silver wings; he is a silver angel.”

I let him take credit for something I’d already divined, for he was in full flood as he explained all that I had heard on my mountain sojourn.

“The Zecca is the famous Venetian mint, as you now know—your home city, among its many superiorities, happens to boast the best money strikers in the world. Münzreiche, the arch-duke’s nickname, means ‘rich in coin,’ and a seam is a natural store of silver in the earth—it sounds like you entered one of the mine shafts yourself.”

“I did, and I also found a coin that they had struck.” I could not help but sound a note of pride.

“Show me.”

I reached into one sleeve, then the other. But the coin was gone. “Fuck!” I exclaimed, then looked at him through my lashes, waiting for the usual censure, which this time didn’t come. I expect he was used to worse in the ranks of il Moro’s army. “It was here. Shitting fucking mother of Christ and all the saints. I must’ve dropped it.” I was genuinely furious with myself—not only was it an important piece in our puzzle, but I’d retained my whore’s care of the coin and was looking forward to spending the thing when this was all over.

“Do not distress yourself. Can you remember what it was like? The design?”

“Yes. It had a profile portrait of Lorenzo il Magnifico, with his laurels in a sunburst, just like the symbol of Sol Invictus.”

He nodded. “So far so consistent. And on the other?”

“One word. It . . . I—” My mind was a blank.

“Well?” he barked.

“Don’t yell at me, you’re making it harder to remember,” I whined. But it was no good. The word, read once and lost in the sound of the carriage wheels as I drifted into sleep, was gone.

Brother Guido leaped to his feet and paced the room, eyes blazing. Angry, but not at me. “Evil, pernicious alliance! What must they be plotting? Could the Seven be planning to march into the mountains, north and east to the direction of Zephyrus, to overrun the Hapsburg lands? Perhaps they plot to overthrow the emperor, overrun the Holy Roman Empire, build an empire of their own?”

It sounded likely but for one thing. “But the emperor is in on it. Don’t you remember? When I overheard Sigismund and my mother talking in the great hall, Sigismund said his cousin the emperor had given my mother safe passage in the mountains and guaranteed protection from attack from the Hapsburg lands. And another thing too—when the coin was struck in the mine that night, Sigismund took it to give to the emperor. So the emperor clearly knows all about the Seven and has given his blessing. So that dog won’t bite.”

“You speak truly. But certain it is that there is war coming to someone’s door. For let