course of the procession. `Whatever it is, don't think,' he said to Spina. `Keep walking. You are a prince of the Church.'
Spina was sweating and trembling as he changed his clothing in the vestry of the cathedral. He could feel only the threatening presence of Bernaba Minerbetti. D'Ailly sat beside him and spoke to him soothingly. `What did you see in the crowd, Spina?'
'Nothing. 'A delusion.'
`A deadly enemy?'
Do you want to confess to me?'
`There is no sin to be shriven. I feel pain but I have done nothing yet.'
`You should talk to me about it. That would help you.'
Only I know what will help me,' Spina said. He left the cathedral alone, almost disabled by the,, knowledge that Bernaba Minerbetti was in Konstanz. She had gone to Cossa. She had told him everything. She was telling that terrible story about. the trent-uno to everyone. He had to stop her. He had to find her and be revenged on her.
When Bernaba returned to the offices of the marchesa's syndicate, she was shaken and her face was colourless.
`Bernaba!, What happened to, you?' the marchesa asked her. `Spina.'
`What about; Spina?'
`You should have seen his face. He wanted to screw me and kill me at the same time.'
`I can't believe it! You mean nothing has changed after thirty-five years?'
`He is the ultimate Sicilian. He forgets nothing. He feeds on anything which has damaged his past: I tell you, `He wanted to kill me.'
`What can he do? You have the pope and Cosimo di Medici behind you.'
`You don't understand, Decima. You didn't see his face.' When I got back to our house in the Engelsongasse and saw my wife's frightened, face, I crossed the room with two bounds and lifted her up into my arms. She began to sob. 'I really caught it today, Franco,' she said.
`What happened?'
`The marchesa thought it would he a big joke if I stood in the crowd and smiled at Spina as he went by in procession.'
`You didn't do it?'
`He saw me. He went crazy. He is going to find me and try to kill me.'
`Why should Decima care if Spina ever sees you again?' `I don't know.'
`She must have explained something:'
`She said Spina was trouble for Cossa and it would be useful if we could have a hold over him.' -
'We?'
`I'm telling you what she said.'
`I don't understand. How did the marchesa get into this?' `Franco, get me a glass of wine. I think I caught a cold or something.'
When I was sure my wife was asleep, 1 put on a greatcoat and a fur hat and trudged through, the snow to the papal palace to begin the working night with Cossa. I pulled up a chair across the work table in
Cossa's study. `Something evil is happening, Cossa,' I said.
`Like what?'
`The marchesa told Bernaba that it would be a good joke if Bernaba popped up in the front row of the procession and gave Spina a big smile.'
`I saw her out there' It came to him. 'Spina? Spina?'
'The. marchesa told Bernaba that Spina was trouble for you and that we could do with a hold over him.' `What happened?'
'He tried to break out of the procession and go after her in the crowd. Bernaba said he looked insane. He wanted to kill her.' `But Decima knew that would happen.' `Yes. That is why I say something funny is going on.' `Why would Decima want to set Bernaba up?'
`Well! Think about it. She wants to use Bernaba as bait to get at Spina.''
`Why?’
`Ask her tonight. You have to straighten this out, Cossa. We have to protect, Bernaba.'
`I'll protect her right now. Get an escort together. When I have dealt with that murdering duke, Bernaba is going back to Bologna.' His face was blank. He rubbed his nose and said, `Tell her to leave a note for Decima saying that her mother is dying in Bari and that she had to go there. Before she goes, she must set up the women in Decima's house to watch her and report to you. Send a messenger to the marchesa telling her to be here for dinner at two o'clock tomorrow morning.'
`Do you want Palo to head Bernaba's escort?'
`What use would Palo be? He is a specialist. We want Captain Munger of my guard to take care of Bernaba. He is steady and he is dangerous.''
On the day after the first session of the Council of Konstanz all those weeks before, Cossa had sent another warm letter to the Duke of Milan, inviting him personally to attend on the other nations of Europe at Konstanz and to dine with him on the second night after his arrival, whenever that would be. The answer carne swiftly from Milan. The young duke was highly honoured by the pope's gesture of friendship and hospitality and was resolved to attend Konstanz during the last week of january 1415.
The news seemed to, send a shock tremor through the episcopal palace. It halted the pope's participation in any of the business of the conference until he had gone over every detail of the vengeance he had been planning since the moment the news of Catherine Visconti's murder had crashed down upon him. He locked himself in a small study with me, Luigi Palo and Bernaba.
`When he comes here, we will have a superb dinner. I thought at first a dinner for twelve or so – many cardinals and some beautiful women – the finest wines – but now I think it will be better if it is a dinner for just three of us – Franco Ellera, the duke and me because that will flatter him more and put him more off his guard if he feels that the pope wants to honour him by, dining with him so intimately. We will dine, in the wine cellar of this palace. Very colourful and enormously convivial for such happy company. And soundproof. We will speak of his mother, of the turmoil in Milan since her death, and of superficial things. We will be charming. We will laugh and I will praise him. Then, when the dinner is done, I will begin to speak more closely about his mother's death' – Cossa sunk his face into his hands upon the table – `then I shall tell him how he is going to die.'
`How is he going to die?' Palo asked,
`You will break his bones and I will talk to him. Then we will leave him alone for the first night.'
Palo grinned.
`On the second night we will begin to open him up and pack the wounds with salt,' Cossa said.
`We will have to do it carefully or he won't last through the second night,' Palo said.
`It is too much,' I said. `This isn't vengeance, this is pleasure, Cossa. You have sickened me.'
`What would you do?' Cossa asked me hotly. `Just put' a knife in his heart?'
`An eye for an eye,' I said. `His mother died, peacefully and painlessly, So should he. He should be poisoned slowly enough for you to tell him you have done it and why you have done it and that he is the last Visconti.
`He must suffer!' Cossa shouted.
52
On the night of the second day after the Duke of Milan reached Konstanz, he arrived at the episcopal palace with an escort of thirty mounted men and two bodyguards for his dinner with the pope. While we waited for His Holiness to join us, I explained to the duke that the Holy Father had planned to honour him with a most intimate and unusual dinner – just the three of us in the wine cellar of the palace. The young man was enormously
