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A Brood of Vipers

A Brood of Vipers

Titel: A Brood of Vipers
Autoren: Paul C. Doherty
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woman in every way except that she is only just over a yard in height.' Agrippa picked up his goblet and sipped carefully. 'Well,' he continued, 'this delightful group were lodged in apartments at Eltham Palace. Their visit was to be cordial. The Albrizzis enjoy a warm relationship with the English monarchy dating back to the present king's father's reign. Their reason for coming to England was to seal trade treaties as well as to explore Henry and Wolsey's position if the ruler of Florence, his Eminence Giulio de Medici, threw his cardinal's hat into the ring as the next pope.'
    'We have a pope,' Benjamin spoke up. 'The Dutchman Adrian of Utrecht, a zealous reformer of Holy Mother Church. Adrian has threatened to scour all the blemishes from Rome and is busily banishing the prostitutes, warlocks, wizards and courtesans from the city. I even understand he has threatened to defrock bishops found guilty of corruption, as well as forcibly remove any cardinal whose fingers are tainted by corruption.'
    'Yes, yes,' Agrippa murmured, narrowing his eyes. 'Pope Adrian is intent on cleansing the temple and driving out the money-changers and those who prey on God's people.' Agrippa glanced up; his eyes had that strange, colourless look. 'However, Rome is a sewer, a veritable Augean stables. Adrian is a sickly man. Those whom the Roman cardinals do not like tend to die rather sudden and mysterious deaths.'
    (Never was a word so truthfully spoken! Now, as you may know, I am a member of the old faith; priests come to my house to celebrate Mass and I still say my rosary before a statue of the Virgin. The Church of Rome has purged itself, cleaned out the corruption, but in my youth Rome was the anus of the world. Read the history books yourselves. I wager even the devil himself was frightened of the precious pair Rodrigo Borgia, or Pope Alexander VI as he took the title, and his beloved nephew Cesare on whom Machiavelli based his book The Prince. They no more believed in God than a fox does in flying. They had one principle only. No, I lie, they had two: 'the Borgias come first and nobody second' and 'do unto your enemy before he doeth it unto you'. However, more of that precious pair later!)
    On that warm, sunny day in an English garden, with the roses turning their faces to the sun and filling the air with their cloying perfume, such corruption seemed an age away. Nevertheless, Agrippa's silence and his sombre looks sent a shiver up my spine. Agrippa had his finger on the pulse of power; what he was doing, in fact, was prophesying the murder of a pope.
    'And how did Henry treat the Albrizzis?' Benjamin asked, breaking the silence.
    'Oh, like long-lost brothers. There was the usual exchange of gifts. They gave Henry a picture of him as a youth, praying before the tomb of his father. Henry declared himself most satisfied – he looked as handsome as an angel. I suppose he was before he turned life into one long drinking bout and never-ending banquet. They also gave him a beautiful diamond on a gold chain, some gold figurines and a Book of Hours. Henry responded with similar costly gifts -English swords and pure wool carpets. The trade negotiations were most harmonious, and why shouldn't they be? Florence is a healthy market for English wool.' Agrippa paused and sipped at his goblet. 'Everything was going well until murder intervened. Francesco Albrizzi went shopping in Cheapside with his daughter and son-in-law. All three parted to visit different stalls. A bang was heard – someone had fired a musket from an alleyway. Francesco was shot in the temple and died immediately.' Agrippa rolled the cup between his black-gloved hands. 'You can imagine the uproar? Sheriffs, law officers, commissioners and justices went through London's mean alleyways like a hot knife through the softest cheese.' Agrippa shook his head. 'But they found no trace of any assassin or of the arquebus that was used.' 'And the reason for the murder?' Benjamin asked.
    'God only knows! One thing is certain: very few footpads or professional assassins use arquebuses or handguns of any sort. And, if they did there would be whispers and the miscreant responsible for slaying such a powerful man would soon be betrayed to gain the substantial reward.' 'And the king?' I asked. 'He is horrified, furious with the city. He said he will suspend its liberties if the assassin proves to be a Londoner.'
    'I can't understand this,' I interrupted. 'Arquebuses are powerful pieces.
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