Light on Lucrezia - By Plaidy, Jean Page 0,44
will speak to my father.”
“I long for next week.”
They embraced and, as it was approaching midnight, he left her.
With his gentlemen-in-waiting, Tomaso Albanese and his squire, he left the Vatican and came into the Square. It was very quiet, as the place was deserted except for a group of pilgrims who huddled on the steps of St. Peter’s.
“It may well be,” said Alfonso to Albanese, “that this time next week we shall no longer have to make these journeys. My wife will be with me in Santa Maria.”
“I rejoice, my lord,” answered Albanese.
They had moved a little nearer to the group of pilgrims. Alfonso scarcely glanced at them because they were such a common sight; but as he walked on there was a sudden movement, a rustle, the sound of quick footsteps and, startled, Alfonso and his two men suddenly found themselves surrounded.
It happened in a few seconds. The pilgrims had thrown back their ragged cloaks, and their swords were poised ready for action. Alfonso realized that he had been ambushed and that his life was in imminent danger. But he was young and strong, and expert with the sword.
“On guard,” he shouted, and drew his sword, but even as he gave the order his shoulder was pierced, and the hot blood was streaming down the gold embroidery of his doublet.
Albanese and the Squire had drawn their swords and were giving a good account of themselves against the attackers; but the latter had the advantage in numbers, and Alfonso was already faint from loss of blood.
A sword of one of his assailants pierced his thigh, and with a groan he fell fainting to the ground. Two of the “pilgrims” then tried to pick him up and hustle him to a waiting horse, but the gallant Albanese and the Squire, while calling loudly for the Papal Guards, threw themselves into an attack against those who were seeking to remove Alfonso.
There was a shout from the precincts of the Vatican followed by the sound of running feet.
“Disperse!” cried one of the attackers, and they all leaped on to their horses and galloped away as the first of the Papal Guards made his appearance.
“We have been attacked!” cried Albanese. “Our master is in urgent need of attention.”
They picked up Alfonso and, with the help of the guards, carried him into the Vatican.
“My wife …” murmured the fainting Alfonso. “Take me to my wife … and no other.”
Lucrezia was with her father, sitting on one side of his bed while Sanchia sat on the other, and thus it was into the Pope’s bedchamber that Alfonso was carried.
Lucrezia gave a cry of horror as they laid Alfonso on the floor, and then with Sanchia she rushed to him and knelt beside him.
“Alfonso … my dearest!” cried Lucrezia.
Alfonso’s eyes were glazed. He looked appealingly into Lucrezia’s face. “Save me, Lucrezia,” he murmured. “Do not let him come near me …”
Sanchia gave orders to the men: “Call the physicians without delay. Some of you help us to get him to a bed. Bring hot water and bandages! Oh my brother, have no fear. We will save you.”
But he kept his eyes on Lucrezia as he said distinctly so that all could hear: “I know who has sought to kill me. It is your brother … Cesare!”
Then he closed his eyes; and all those in the room believed that he would never open them again.
Alfonso lay in the Borgia Tower, in a room the walls of which had been decorated by Pinturicchio. Sanchia was with him; so was Lucrezia; they had cut away his doublet and staunched the flow of blood while they waited for the physicians to come and dress his wounds.
“Together and alone we will nurse him,” said Sanchia to Lucrezia. “It is the only way if he is to live.”
Lucrezia agreed. She was conscious now of the reality of that terror which had overshadowed Alfonso’s happiness and she was determined to nurse him back to health. She knew against whom she had to protect him, and she was determined to do this.
“I will have beds made for us in this room,” she said.
“Beds for both of us,” added Sanchia. “Lucrezia, if he lives after this night’s outrage, we alone must prepare his food, and we must not leave the room together. One of us must always be here.”
“It shall be so,” said Lucrezia.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the Neapolitan ambassador.
“How fares my lord?” he asked.
“We cannot say yet,” answered Sanchia.
“His Holiness is insistent