Wsim24b

Alfonso, Duke of Bisceglie, came to Rome secretly in July of 1498. He was a good-looking kid, and charmed everyone who met him - especially his bride-to-be. Lucrezia was 19 years old, now, and Alfonso was a year younger. They both seemed to fall in love immediately.

Sancia was thrilled. Her good friend was marrying her brother. She laughed, she sang, and she was incredibly turned on.

- "If only it could be a double wedding." she said.

Never mind that she was already married. She wanted to play out her little fantasy that she and I were celebrating

our

marriage, which somehow involved her riding me as if I was a prize-winner at the Palio.

Lucrezia and Alfonso were married on July 21st, in a fairly private ceremony, to which the ambassadors were not invited. Of course, it wouldn't have been a Borgia family affair without some kind of scandal, but I was mildly embarrassed to be indirectly involved.

Juan de Cardona was a 29 year old Sicilian, a third generation Italian who nonetheless still considered himself Spanish. He was a soldier of fortune, and a very bright young man. Unfortunately, he was also one of the ugliest fellows I'd ever met.

He wasn't hideous; that might have helped. His dark hair was thin and lifeless, his complexion sallow. His eyes drooped, and there was nothing he could do about the dark circles beneath them. His nose was small and rather pointy. His mouth turned down at the corners, giving him a permanently unhappy expression.

Courtiers avoided him, as if his ugliness was somehow contagious, or unlucky. But from the moment I met him, I quite liked Cardona. He was intelligent, and even if he'd never fought in a major battle or siege, he was quite knowledgeable about military matters. I quickly took him under my wing, in the spring of 1498, and we had several very useful discussions with Ugo de Moncada and Ramiro de Lorqua.

Unfortunately, Cardona was not particularly well-informed about intimate relationships in the Apostolic Palace - specifically, between Sancia and me. He made a comment (or asked a question), which was heard by some of Sancia's servants. More words were exchanged, and... well, a brawl broke out. Then swords were drawn. The servers at the wedding feast couldn't get by to serve the sweetmeats and sugared almonds.

Fortunately, no one was killed, or even injured. There was some pushing and shoving, shouted insults, and the naked steel, of course. When I spoke to Cardona afterwards, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd said to set off Sancia's servants.

She wasn't very understanding. For someone who wasn't a

real

princess, Sancia was pretty accustomed to getting her own way. She wanted me to punish Cardona (and the Ramires brothers, plus Vicente, who had saved my life outside Elena's house). I just shook my head.

- "If you can't control your people, perhaps you're not the man I thought you were." she snapped.

- "Alright." I said. Then I walked out. That was definitely not something she was used to. But she had to learn that I wasn't going to kiss her ass (at least, not in that way).

It was only after that exchange that the Pope said "Time to look for other allies."

- "What?"

- "Ferdinand of Aragon is playing hardball; he won't give us back Gandia. He won't give us anything. Not even troops. Federigo agreed to have Alfonso marry Lucrezia, but he won't let you marry Carlotta. They obviously think that I have no other choice."

- "You didn't really expect him to give up Carlotta, did you?"

- "No. Well, maybe... but he could have offered something else. And Ferdinand could have, too. He just wants to make sure that

he

ends up with Naples. But he needs to be reminded that there are other claims to that throne."

- "Wait..." There was only one other major claim that I knew of. "France?"

- "I sent a friendly mission to King Charles back in March. My nephew, Cardinal Valencia."

- "Three months ago?" I was shocked - and impressed. "That's... incredible foresight."

- "Just keeping my options open." said the Pope, looking just a little smug. "But negotiations were... interrupted."

Charles VIII had died in April, after banging his head in a doorway.

"That," said my boss, "may have been a great blessing."

- "It's the same player. Admiral Colenso." I said.

- "Maybe. I'm still not 100% sure it's him. But either way, the new King has issues that the old one didn't."

Charles hadn't fathered a legitimate son. He was succeeded by his cousin (and brother-in-law), the former Duke of Orleans, who now became Louis XII.

Louis did have problems. The old King, Louis XI, had forced him to marry his disabled cousin, Jeanne de France. Louis XI was a first-class prick; he knew that Jeanne was supposed to be sterile. The marriage was his way of eliminating the Orleans branch of the French royal family.

Obviously, the new King wanted out of his marriage, which would require an annulment - which you can only get from the Pope. But Louis faced some time constraints, as well, because he knew who he wanted for his next wife: Anne of Brittany, who had been married to Charles VIII.

Anne was Duchess of Brittany in her own right. She had been betrothed to Maximilian of Austria (the future Holy Roman Emperor), and even married him by proxy. This was something that Charles VIII of France could not allow. He started a war.

Somehow, Charles not only forced Anne to renounce her marriage, but also convinced her to marry

him

! More incredibly, the couple were genuinely in love. Anne wasn't put off by his ugliness, or by his notorious philandering.

None of their children survived, though, so the French throne passed to Louis - who desperately wanted to marry Anne and father a child by her, to keep Brittany from falling into hostile hands.

- "Interesting..." I said.

- "That's not all, of course. Whoever the player behind Louis is - Admiral Colenso, or someone else - he wants more than that. An annulment, first, then a dispensation to marry Anne. He also wants a Cardinal's hat for his good friend and advisor, Georges D'Amboise, the Archbishop of Rouen. And then there's the little matter of Milan."

- "Holy shit!"

- "Exactly." said the Pope.

The simulation players had to follow the rules of their game. They couldn't just declare war on anyone, at any time. They needed a legitimate claim. As King of France, Louis had a valid claim to Naples. As Duke of Orleans, he also had a claim to the Duchy of Milan.

- "He'll invade Italy. Again." I said. "There's no Holy League left to stop him."

Ludovico Il Moro of Milan had turned his coat yet again, and made peace with Louis. Venice, furious with Ludovico (and traditionally anti-Milan anyway) was edging closer to France. Florence had shown itself to be near useless. If France did invade again, that would leave only the Papacy, Naples, and Spain to oppose them - and that would make Federigo and the Pope completely dependent on Ferdinand of Aragon.

Louis could get his annulment, divide his opponents,

and

obtain Papal recognition of his conquests - so long as he met the Pope's price.

"What would you get in return?" I asked him.

- "Lots." The Pope passed me a piece of paper.

1st, The King of France will support Pilgrim's project of marriage with Carlotta of Naples

2nd, The King will grant him the county of Valence, and its revenues of 20,000 gold francs per annum

3rd, Pilgrim will be appointed commander of a Corps of 100 lances, to be maintained by the King at Pilgrim's orders, in Italy or elsewhere. The King may expand this corps to 200 or 300 lances.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. That was heavy cavalry. A lance was the smallest unit, consisting of six men. That meant nearly 2,000 heavy cavalry. But there was more.

4th, Pilgrim will receive a personal subsidy of 20,000 gold francs per annum from the French Crown

5th, Once Milan is conquered, Pilgrim will be granted the Lordship of Asti

6th, Pilgrim will be invested with the collar of the Order of Saint Michael

- "This is..."

- "Pretty much everything you could ask for." said the Pope. "Right?"

It was. Except...

- "How can we trust him?"

My boss shrugged. Now he looked more like Admiral D'Onofrio.

- "Things change, Pilgrim. The situation is different."

- "He had your son Cesare murdered." I said. "He sent Anna, Faraz and Will to kidnap you. Then he negotiated for me. If Alberini hadn't got me out, would I still be alive?" Then I had a sudden suspicion. "Did they have anything to do with Juan's murder?"

He shook his head. "I've got no proof of anything like that. And I understand how you feel. You're right to be suspicious. Can we trust Louis? Honestly? I don't know. But I don't trust Ferdinand of Aragon any further than I can throw him."

I understood the problem. Who do you trust, in a game like this? Or in Renaissance Italy, where treachery was considered just one more means of achieving your goals? France's offer wasn't just better; it was immeasurably better.

Except for one small detail: I would have to go to France.

Carlotta of Naples was there, visiting relatives. King Louis would have to personally grant me the promised lands and honours in a feudal ceremony.

But Captain Teck would be there, with Tasha and Faraz. Was this all just an elaborate trick to get me to France so that they could kill me?

- "They wouldn't have to go to that much trouble." said Alexander. "They could find a way to get at you here. But it would look very bad if the Pope's son was assassinated on French soil."

Easy for him to say; I would be the one going into the lions' den.

***

Baron de Villeneuve arrived in August, with letters from King Louis. He would escort me on the journey to France.

The Pope had been gathering rich gifts for me to take along, and then fussing over the composition of my party, up to and including what they would wear.

- "You have to put on a good show." he insisted. "They'll be measuring you by how you look - you and all of your escort."

- "I agree - which is why we shouldn't overdo it. Remember the French invasion? They dressed more plainly, and called some of the Italians 'clowns'. Besides, I'm asking for troops, and for money. How will it look if we spend a fortune on clothing and equipment?"

- "We have to make an effort." he grumbled.

- "We have to get it right - so that it appeals to French tastes."

The Pope and I did agree on horses. My whole party had to be well mounted, and I wanted some splendid coursers to give as gifts. I knew that the French would appreciate that.

Then we began arguing about who would accompany me.

In the meantime, Lucrezia had begun treating me differently. She'd always been very friendly, but now she became downright affectionate. She called me 'Big Brother', and sometimes sat beside me, with her hand on my arm. She would greet me with a hug. Her new husband just beamed at her; he was clearly besotted with Lucrezia, and she with him.

Sancia treated me differently, too. She was no fool, and she didn't like it one bit when she found out that I would be going to France.

- "Why?" she asked, point blank.

- "Because my father has asked me to."

- "Why you? Why doesn't he send a cardinal?"

It was a good question, which I couldn't answer. "Perhaps you should ask him, Sancia."

- "I did. He wouldn't tell me anything, which is why I'm asking you."

- "I can't tell you any more."

Sancia frowned. "I don't like this, Pilgrim. You had best remember who your friends are."

I didn't know if she meant Naples, or Spain - or herself.

Elena was sad and mopey. She'd been thrilled, at first, to find out that I was the Pope's son, but we hadn't seen each other all that much since I'd been ordered to stop visiting her house. I had asked her to come to the Palace a few times, but I still felt awkward doing that - plus I didn't want to upset Sancia. I'd only invited Elena twice in the past six weeks.

It was time to make it up to her. I brought her to a lavish set of rooms, with a table set for two, and treated her to a dinner featuring the types of foods she might have heard of, but never tasted. It was much too rich or too delicate for my liking, but Elena was thrilled.

After that, I took her to bed for a marathon session that lasted almost until dawn. It was for my benefit as much as hers; I wanted to imprint her lush body on my memory.

We rose late. That afternoon, I took her for a walk in the Palace garden, after which I introduced her to the gardener - Gina.

I left them alone for an hour, to get acquainted and have a talk.

Dangerous? Not at all. Neither of them was jealous. They had at least one thing in common: me. They could laugh at my foibles together, and make common cause - the association of Pilgrim's under-appreciated mistresses. In fact, I hoped that they might even become friends.

I spent that night with Gina.

- "Why did you bring Elena?" she asked. "To the gardens, I mean."

- "So that she could see your beautiful work, and meet you."

Gina thought about that.

- "I liked her."

- "You sound surprised."

- "I'd pictured her, in my mind. I imagined what she was like. And of course she was nothing like what I expected. She was..."

I waited for her to complete her thought.

"She's like me, in some ways. And yet completely different."

- "How so?"

Gina was smiling, but she shook her head. "Don't play innocent. You know very well what I mean. Physically? We might have come out of the same mould. But her life has been completely different. We've been living in two very different worlds."

- "And you'll remain that way." I said. "When I have a household of my own, Elena will stay in her house. Whereas you, Gina, will be coming with me."

I thought that my words would please her, but instead she turned her face away.

"Gina?"

I had to take her by the shoulder, and turn her back towards me. She wouldn't meet my eye.

- "I don't know why you'd want me." she said. "Five years now, we've been together, and I haven't been able to give you a child."

That was NOT what I'd expected to hear. Where had that come from? Gina had already borne a child; if anything, she should have been wondering what was wrong with me. How could I possibly explain my ISEC implant, which acted as a contraceptive even as it protected me from sexually transmitted diseases?

- "It's not you, Gina. It's my... my medicine."

- "Medicine?"

- "I have an apothecary. He made me a... a potion, to protect me from the French pox. The last thing I would want is to pass on that horrid disease to you. But while it protects me, it also... prevents conception."

Wow, I was good. That was close enough to the truth, yet couched in terms that she could understand.

"When I'm ready to have children... we could have one, together."

She looked up at me, then, and smiled.

- "Truly?"

- "You'd make a wonderful mother." I said. I don't think that I'd ever said such a thing to a woman in my entire life. My two lives. But it was just what Gina wanted - or needed - to hear.

We made love in a variety of ways. No, I don't mean positions; Gina and I cuddled, and spooned, but we also rocked the bed. I took her from behind, against the wall. I spent the next five nights with her.

Sancia thought that she was punishing me, by denying me access to her bed. That just gave me more time for Gina.

On the 1st of October, I left for France.

***

I left Miguel (Michelotto) with the Pope, as a bodyguard. He could also carry out any dirty work the boss needed done. Besides, Miguel would have stood out too much in my party, both for his size and his ugliness.

I had more than enough company. Diego and Pedro Ramires were there, with Vicente as a third bodyguard. Ramiro de Lorqua came along, as my butler and chamberlain. There were also two dozen Spanish and Italian gentlemen, including Giulio degli Alberini, the head of our intelligence network.

On top of that, we had fifty pages, squires and grooms, eight baggage carts, forty baggage mules, a string of jennets and sixteen coursers (heavy chargers), most intended as gifts.

We rode to the port of Ostia, where French ships waited for us. From there, we sailed to Marseilles, a journey that took the better part of two weeks. I was once again glad that I'd had ISEC training; I'd learned to sail and handle small boats, so that I wasn't entirely out of my element on the French ships, which were three-masted carracks.

We were welcomed in Marseilles by a salvo of artillery. The King had sent an honour guard of 400 archers. The next few days were spent sightseeing and meeting local notables. I could have done without that, but it was part of the official programme - and there was going to be plenty more of it.

From there we travelled 100 kilometres, to Avignon. In the 14th century, one of the Popes decided to make Avignon his capital. Six Popes made it their headquarters, until the seventh returned to Rome. But then came the Great Schism, when there were two (and even three) popes at once, with Christendom split in two, depending on which Pope (or anti-Pope) they chose to recognize.

Avignon was Papal territory, a small enclave inside the Kingdom of France, bordering the Duchy of Burgundy. The town was dominated by a massive Papal Palace, now the home of the Papal Legate, none other than Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere.

He'd made his peace with my boss last year, but this was my first meeting with him since Velletri, four years ago, where Alberini had helped me escape from the French. The Cardinal honoured me by coming to meet us two miles outside the town.

We embraced, for show, both of us a little wary. I was surprised to see della Rovere with a noticeable rash on his face, a clear symptom of the French pox, as it was now known in Italy - syphilis. Giuliano was short-tempered, coarse, and given to bad language. But he seemed prepared to welcome us in style.

- "He can pick the winning side." said de Lorqua.

Inside Avignon, there was a lavish reception for us, featuring decorations, tableaux, and gifts of silverware and preserved fruits (the significance of the fruit escaped me). On the First of November - All Saints' Day - there was the moresca, traditional dance representing the medieval wars between Moors and Christians. It was normally performed by men, but as a favour to me, they had women do the dancing.

Some dancers had bells attached to them, while others carried sticks and even a couple of swords. It was, in fact, a pantomime, like a ballet. Several of the dancers were quite striking, and I had the opportunity to thank a couple of them personally - and privately - over the next few nights.

We spent ten days in Avignon, punctuated by more public receptions, a few more private receptions, and an interesting discovery by Alberini. He had half a dozen of his own men among our gentlemen, pages, and grooms. One of them recognized a traveller from Milan.

- "I wondered what a supporter of the Sforzas was doing here." said Alberini. "Ludovico Il Moro knows that King Louis is preparing to reassert his claim to Milan. But why send an agent to Avignon?"

- "Della Rovere." I said.

- "My thought exactly. So we waylaid the man, and relieved him of a few ducats... and a letter."

Alberini handed it to me. I clapped him on the shoulder.

- "You're a pearl, Giulio. More than that - you're beyond price." By this time, I knew my friend. Yes, he liked money, but Alberini was primarily motivated by loyalty, and by a love of the game. He'd have made an excellent ISEC agent - if he could have survived the training.

The letter read:

Madama Margherita,

You will understand how I came to Avignon to speak with Lorenzo of the matter which we discussed together, so that our interest may be well served in this matter. Lorenzo has received me with the best possible countenance, and has told me that he is all mine, and will be at my disposition. Thus I believe that he will do all that he can.