The Cardinal and The Constable

The Cardinal and the Constable, chapter 5

Chapter 5.

         The Great Artist.

         “Merciful Lord, you alone judge the just man, you alone are bread for the righteous. I admit that I may have not always prayed as I ought. Verily, I sometimes asked, O God, out of the vanity of my heart, for selfish things. However, I bring to you a matter more important than preserving my happiness- or my hairline…

         Father, as thine own Son was falsely accused, I pray you deliver my son, Adreo who is unjustly held against his will…well, I think he is!”

         A sudden, uneasy quietness settled over the dim space where Fratelli knelt praying. Far from the cranky scowl he wore that morning, his face showed a stoic stillness. He cleared his throat and continued:

         “Lord Christ, I devoutly implore you to grant me wisdom where I lack it- and discretion also…”

         Unsure of what else to say, the cardinal hushed, nervously crossed himself and stood. Impatiently, he left the cathedral and encountered a woman clad in silken pink skirts. Shaking her auburn locks, peering with shrewd, green eyes, she politely grinned and greeted him:

         “Why, good evening Angelo!”

         “Hello Francine.”

         Fratelli started walking past her when she reached for his arm.

         “Oh Angelo, I have wonderful news,” she said.

         What now? He paused in his tracks, listening as she rambled:

         “I’m surprised you don’t already know this, being supposedly cultured as you are, but one of the greatest artists in all of Europe is coming here to Lucca. Have you heard of Gino Siglio? Of course you have. Well, his works are on display at the Museo D’Arte. Why don’t you come with me this evening?”

         “I am busy this evening,” Fratelli answered.

         Francine grimaced. 

         “Angelo, we never do anything together. It’s almost as if I don’t even have a nephew,” she lamented.

         Bristling, Fratelli responded, “Stop calling me “Angelo”.”

         Lifting a dainty, gloved hand, Francine giggled. Noticing his strained face, her smile faded. She glanced away, briefly distracted by a white bird that fluttered in treetops above, then re-addressed him:

         “I’m sorry…Your Eminence…Would you like to go out with your dear Aunt Francine this evening?”

         “Not tonight,” he replied, “I have other things to do.”

         “Come now. You can read your bible or powder your miter some other time.”

         Fratelli rolled his eyes.

        “That is all you think I do, isn’t it?” he asked.

        “Well, what do you do?”

         Fratelli scowled, pursing his lips lest he say something he might regret. Anxiously, his interlocking fingers reached and toyed with his golden ring. There was perhaps no way of changing her mind… He said a courteous farewell and darted out of sight.  

Inside, Fratelli sat in the parlor as Dina brought him a cold glass of water. He wiped some sweat from his forehead and gratefully drank. As soon as Dina began to leave, a boy with light, golden-brown hair- no older than thirteen, scampered in. He was Gianni, Dina’s newly adopted son. Right away, he set about curiously touching various books and statuettes in the room. Dina turned back to scold him when Fratelli instead spoke,