Throughout this period, Cesare and-unknown to his brother-Giovanni, had been sharing their beautiful sister during a long holiday she was taking from her husband in Rome.
It was only two nights before the two brothers were due to leave Rome together to the crowning of Federigo that Cesare arrived, unexpectedly, at the apartment that Lucrezia had been given by her father. He let himself in, discreetly, with the key he'd had made for his own purposes, and walked into the apartment to find Lucrezia spread-eagled on a couch, her knees pulled up almost touching her breasts, urging her sweating brother Giovanni to greater efforts to satisfy her.
'They were making such a bustle with their squirmings and pantings that neither was aware of his presence until he spoke.
“I had no idea that we were all so in love with the family.”
His cutting tones broke through their abandonment and brought them both to a standstill. They lay together on the couch, staring at him in confusion. Lucrezia slowly put her legs down from their exaggerated position. Both lay, nude and panting, in a momentary, shocked silence.
Lucrezia gathered her wits first.
“Cesare, darling, you surely didn't think your rights on me were exclusive.” She gave a little laugh at the monstrosity of the thought and smoothed her round belly with her hand.
“I didn't expect to find my own brother sticking his prick in you.” His tone was hostile, controlled but dangerous. Again it was Lucrezia who spoke.
“You're sounding very moral all of a sudden, dear,” she said smoothly. “After all, Giovanni knows all about you and he doesn't mind.” She laughed again as if she was thoroughly enjoying the situation. She swung her legs off the couch and came toward Cesare, her big breasts pointing out at him. His eyes flickered. He was furious. It had shocked him to find his brother with her. He didn't analyze his feelings, but his reaction was very simple: he was consumed with a sudden, hating jealousy.
Lucrezia reached him and put her arms around his neck.
“I'm surprised at you, darling,” she said. “You sound jealous-anyone would think you were my husband.” She laughed a third time. Cesare caught her arms, holding the flesh so hard that she cried out. He pulled them from his neck and pushed her away-from him.
“You're just a whore,” he snarled at her.
Lucrezia colored, her eyes pinpointed, but she kept control of herself.
“You're being quite ridiculous, Cesare,” she snapped. “I think you'd better go and come back some evening when you've got a sense of proportion and reality.”
She looked around at Giovanni, who had slid slowly off the couch in front of them. “Besides,” she added spitefully, “Giovanni and I have some business to finish.”
For a moment it seemed that Cesare would strike her. His dark eyes raged furiously from her to her brother. Then he turned with a scowl and went out.
Lucrezia turned to Giovanni. Her eyes had assumed a wide, innocent look of wonder.
“Well, well,” she said, “would you ever have believed that-from him of all people?”
“Amazing,” Giovanni agreed. “I do believe he's really in love with you.”
Lucrezia looked thoughtful. Her eyes softened. She had already forgiven Cesare at the thought. Her mind wandered off on one of her now frequent fantasies.
Giovanni came over and stood behind her. He put his arms around her and pressed her breasts. She turned her face sideways toward him as she felt his hips pressing her rump and his trunk growing fat again.
“I wonder which of you I'd choose if I had to,” she mused. “Do you think Cesare's really angry?”
“It won't last long.”
He drew her back to the couch and pulled her down on it. She seemed to come suddenly back to the present, to become aware again and she opened her legs and put her arms up to him, opening her mouth and beckoning him with the deep, reawakened desire in her eyes. She closed her eyes with the sharp sensation as he drove into her and she dug her nails into his shoulders. For the moment she had made her choice.
Cesare was not outwardly hostile to his brother when they met the next night. Their mother, Vannozza-the truth had been admitted to them at last-was giving them a farewell supper in her vineyard at Trastevere.
They dined in the rose-surrounded terrace with a number of other guests-including their younger brother Giuffredo. The conversation was easy and quite gay although a close observer would probably have noticed that neither of the two older brothers addressed each other directly and hardly once so much as glanced at each other.
However, the two left together in the early hours, accompanied by a number of servants, and set out for Rome on horseback.
Within the city, Giovanni reined in his horse and took his leave. He announced to the company in general that he was going elsewhere to amuse himself. With one attendant, he set off toward the Jewish quarter.
Again, a very close observer whose attention was on Cesare rather than his brother would have noticed that a faint smile which contained both vengeance and a shade of triumph, fleeted over the former's face.
After the Duke of Gandia had left, the company continued on their way for a time until Cesare in turn announced that he, too, was going in search of a little relaxation. He set off alone in the opposite direction to that taken by his brother.
Giovanni trotted his horse gently down the narrow streets toward the river. He had said a passionate farewell to Lucrezia last night. Now there was a little-Jewish maid with a body like quicksilver that he wished to take his leave of in an equally passionate manner tonight.
He allowed thoughts. of Cesare to interrupt his excited anticipation of the fleshly joys in store for him. He didn't relish the journey with his brother tomorrow. He was aware that he was still culpable in his brother's eyes and the knowledge disquieted him; he knew how ruthless Cesare was capable of being.
With a quiet clatter of hooves, the two horses crossed a little, deserted square.
From it they passed into the gloom of another narrow street with the deeper oblong gloom of courtyard doorways.
They were near the river. Giovanni decided he could soon tell his servant to leave him. He didn't want the man making use of his knowledge of the little Jewess during his absence.
He called to the man, who was riding a little ahead of him.
“You may leave me now.”
The servant saluted, glad to be relieved at last of his duty, and cantered back the way they had come. Giovanni continued on his way down the narrow street.
Hardly had the sounds of his retreating servant died before something flew from a dark alley and hit him on the side of the head.
It dazed him but he remained in his saddle with an instinctive effort and drew his sword, turning wildly in the direction of the dark alley mouth.
Immediately he was pulled off his horse from behind in a sharp, muffled bustle of grunts and swishings and the sudden rearing of his mount. Flashes of silver flew rapidly in quick arcs and the next moment the body of the Duke of Gandia was being dragged into the alley, while his mount went trotting on without him.
“Is he dead?” a voice asked in the sheltering gloom of the alley.
“Aye, sir, he's dead all right,” came rough answering voices in loud whispers.
“Right. Sling him over my horse — and then lead on to the river.”
There was a bustling in the darkness, followed by a moment's silence and then three rough-looking men in the garb of sailors crept out of the dark passage and started off in a slanting direction from the path taken by the riderless horse. At the first corner one of them looked back and beckoned.
Another sailor came out of the darkness — and immediately behind him came a horse carrying a richly- cloaked figure with a mask. Behind Cesare on the horse, his brother lay dead with a dozen stabs in his back and chest.
