pleasure of what I had done?
No, I did not think Sofia wanted to hear that.
Instead, I said, “I thank you for your concern but this is far from over. I must remain strong to deal with what may be coming.”
That at least she seemed to understand. “Your courage is admirable but please, heed what I say. I count you among my dearest friends and I will be glad to listen whenever you need to talk.”
Oh, ho, she would not be! What, after all, would we discuss? The surge of power and release that overcame me when I killed, as though a demon buried deep within had broken free? The various and imaginative ways in which I contemplated ending Morozzi’s time in this world? The nightmare that I knew, in the aftermath of recent events, had to be upon me again soon?
I could never let my mask slip, not with Sofia or anyone else. To the world, I had to be simply Francesca Giordano, a poisoner to be sure and therefore to be feared. But still not that different from all those who make the hard bargains needed to live in a hard world. Let any discover otherwise and I was certain they would turn on me like ravening dogs and tear me asunder.
I was fumbling for something, really anything to say that would divert her when the door at the back of the shop opened. The man who entered was young, only a few years older than myself, tall and broad-shouldered. With his dark, curling hair, strong features, and black eyes, he could easily have been mistaken for a Spaniard. But David ben Eliezer was a Jew, one of the first I had met after discovering that my late father had himself been born into that tribe. Until recently, David had made his home in Rome but he had left the city the previous year in pursuit of Morozzi. At the sight of him I tensed, knowing as I did what his presence likely meant.
David pulled out a stool from beside the worktable and sat down. He looked tired but resolute. Nodding to us both, he said, “Should I be worried that the boy found me so quickly?”
“I told him where to look and he’s a good lad, he won’t say anything,” Sofia replied.
By which I gleaned that the leaders who oversaw the Jewish Quarter were not aware that David was back among them. As they considered him a dangerous rabble-rouser, that was just as well.
“Donna Francesca,” he said with a faint smile, as though we had been apart no time at all. “You look tired.”
Before I could reply, Sofia took it upon herself to say, “Someone tried to kill her last evening. It was the second attack in as many days.”
David’s eyebrows shot up. “I have heard nothing of this. What is happening?”
I made short work of telling him, minimizing the details as much as possible. Even so, he grasped the whole of it without difficulty, putting it together with his considerable knowledge of larger events. David made it his mission to know of anything and everything that might affect the safety of the Jews in Rome and throughout Christendom. The simmering conflict between Borgia and Cardinal della Rovere was no secret to him.
“Could Borgia be responsible?” he asked. “Would he go that far to convince you to kill della Rovere?”
Carefully, I replied, “It seems a little extreme, even for him. I think it more likely that Morozzi is behind what is happening. That is, if he has returned to Rome?”
David sighed and for a moment I had a glimpse of the toll the past months had taken on him. He had lost weight from a frame that had been spare to start and there were deep shadows under his eyes. But he rallied quickly and said, “He may have, I am not certain. Since his flight from Rome last year, he has kept busy cultivating those who share his hatred of us and are eager to work with him to bring about our extermination. He slipped out of Florence a fortnight ago. I tracked him as far as Ostia before he eluded me.”
“Does he know you have been watching him?” I asked, struck by the sudden thought that David himself could be in danger from the
No, I did not think Sofia wanted to hear that.
Instead, I said, “I thank you for your concern but this is far from over. I must remain strong to deal with what may be coming.”
That at least she seemed to understand. “Your courage is admirable but please, heed what I say. I count you among my dearest friends and I will be glad to listen whenever you need to talk.”
Oh, ho, she would not be! What, after all, would we discuss? The surge of power and release that overcame me when I killed, as though a demon buried deep within had broken free? The various and imaginative ways in which I contemplated ending Morozzi’s time in this world? The nightmare that I knew, in the aftermath of recent events, had to be upon me again soon?
I could never let my mask slip, not with Sofia or anyone else. To the world, I had to be simply Francesca Giordano, a poisoner to be sure and therefore to be feared. But still not that different from all those who make the hard bargains needed to live in a hard world. Let any discover otherwise and I was certain they would turn on me like ravening dogs and tear me asunder.
I was fumbling for something, really anything to say that would divert her when the door at the back of the shop opened. The man who entered was young, only a few years older than myself, tall and broad-shouldered. With his dark, curling hair, strong features, and black eyes, he could easily have been mistaken for a Spaniard. But David ben Eliezer was a Jew, one of the first I had met after discovering that my late father had himself been born into that tribe. Until recently, David had made his home in Rome but he had left the city the previous year in pursuit of Morozzi. At the sight of him I tensed, knowing as I did what his presence likely meant.
David pulled out a stool from beside the worktable and sat down. He looked tired but resolute. Nodding to us both, he said, “Should I be worried that the boy found me so quickly?”
“I told him where to look and he’s a good lad, he won’t say anything,” Sofia replied.
By which I gleaned that the leaders who oversaw the Jewish Quarter were not aware that David was back among them. As they considered him a dangerous rabble-rouser, that was just as well.
“Donna Francesca,” he said with a faint smile, as though we had been apart no time at all. “You look tired.”
Before I could reply, Sofia took it upon herself to say, “Someone tried to kill her last evening. It was the second attack in as many days.”
David’s eyebrows shot up. “I have heard nothing of this. What is happening?”
I made short work of telling him, minimizing the details as much as possible. Even so, he grasped the whole of it without difficulty, putting it together with his considerable knowledge of larger events. David made it his mission to know of anything and everything that might affect the safety of the Jews in Rome and throughout Christendom. The simmering conflict between Borgia and Cardinal della Rovere was no secret to him.
“Could Borgia be responsible?” he asked. “Would he go that far to convince you to kill della Rovere?”
Carefully, I replied, “It seems a little extreme, even for him. I think it more likely that Morozzi is behind what is happening. That is, if he has returned to Rome?”
David sighed and for a moment I had a glimpse of the toll the past months had taken on him. He had lost weight from a frame that had been spare to start and there were deep shadows under his eyes. But he rallied quickly and said, “He may have, I am not certain. Since his flight from Rome last year, he has kept busy cultivating those who share his hatred of us and are eager to work with him to bring about our extermination. He slipped out of Florence a fortnight ago. I tracked him as far as Ostia before he eluded me.”
“Does he know you have been watching him?” I asked, struck by the sudden thought that David himself could be in danger from the
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