Page 45 of The Medici Return

Half an hour ago a text had come from Stamm to Cotton’s phone informing them that Camilla Baines was not in Siena but outside of town, at a farm she owned. Stamm had provided directions and called ahead to make the necessary introductions, so she was expecting them.

Cotton left the main highway and turned south on one of thestrade regionale. The narrow, paved road twisted a path up into the hills bordered by more ridged vineyards, orchards, and oak forests. Occasionally lines of olive trees made an attractive diagonal pattern against stripes of red plow. A bright sun trimmed the few thin clouds overhead in a pink border. They passed a road crew removing the remnants of a recent rockfall. Finally they came to a gated entrance where a dirt road led inside, past a fence, toward an array of low brick buildings. The pasture in between was fenced on either side. Horses strolled about, grazing on thick emerald grass.

After learning about Camilla Baines Cotton had done some homework, trying to get a better feel for both her and the lay of the land.

Siena was divided into eighteen urban wards known ascontradas. Originally, they evolved from the times when the trades wereall grouped together within their own defined space. Then they became districts that supplied troops to defend Siena. Both purposes faded away and thecontradaslost their administrative and military functions, becoming more bastions of local patriotism, held together by tradition and the pride of their residents. Each had its own defined territory within the Sienese walls that came with an administrative center, museum, chapel, public square, and fountain. They also had their own songs, mottos, symbolic plant or animal, racing colors, and patron saints. The leaders were selected by vote and could be either male or female. They prided themselves in being classless. All members,contradaioli, were equal, whether rich or poor. They possessed their own government, constitution, and culture, like a mini city-state, headed by an electedpriore. Acapitanowas also elected, who assumed operational command of thecontradaeach year during the few days of the Palio.

Contradamembers paid dues, like a local tax, to offset expenses. Membership was determined by birth, blood, or choice. You could marry outside yourcontrada, but during the Palio those couples parted ways for a few days and generally celebrated with their own. There were four types ofcontradarelationships. Ally, friend, no relation, or enemy. Mostcontradashad a nemesiscontradathat was their avowed opponent. Most also had open allies. Those extremes had a tendency to shift from one Palio to the next. Each was named after an animal, object, or symbol. Eagle, Caterpillar, Snail, Little Owl, Dragon, Giraffe, Crested Porcupine, Unicorn, She-Wolf, Seashell, Goose, Wave, Panther, Forest, Tortoise, Golden Oak, Tower, and Valley of the Ram.

Camilla Baines served ascapitanofor Golden Oak.

One of only two women to ever hold such a high post.

“It is a little odd,” Richter said. “The Palio is tomorrow and Golden Oak is in the race, which means Camilla Baines should be a busy woman.”

He understood. “Yet she made time to see us. That means one of two things. Either she’s extremely curious or she wants something.”

He drove through the gate.

The land on either side was clothed with more orchards, olive trees, and cypresses. The tires churned up dust in his rearview mirrors as he gunned the car along the dirt track.

“My vote,” Richter said, “is she wants something.”

CHAPTER 30

STEFANO WORKED HIS WAY THROUGH A CROWD INFECTED WITHPalio fever. A mass celebration of municipal pride. He liked how one observer described it.A burlesque, with a touch of cruelty, that tens of thousands of people enjoy.It reminded him of the Calcio Storico, when Florentines behaved the same way every year for a ball game.

He’d stayed on station outside Charles Stamm’s apartment all night, until Cardinal Richter and another man emerged around 8:00A.M.Thankfully, he’d thought ahead and had a car and driver dispatched from the Vatican, waiting nearby if needed. He’d also snapped some pictures of the second man. Tall, broad-shouldered, sandy-blond hair. He’d forwarded those to Entity headquarters, and an identification came back fast.

Harold Earl “Cotton” Malone.

Ex-military. United States Navy commander. Trained fighter pilot. Obtained a law degree from Georgetown Law School. Worked for a short time as a navy litigator, then transferred to the Magellan Billet, a covert arm of the United States Justice Department. He received eight commendations for meritorious service in his twelve years there, all of which were refused. He suffered three serious injuries while on assignments, and a fourthcame in Mexico City during the assassination of a public prosecutor. Malone brought down three of the assailants but sustained a severe gunshot wound. After that incident he retired from the military and quit the Justice Department, moving to Copenhagen, Denmark, where he owned a rare-book shop.

But he still freelanced for the United States.

Malone’s presence raised two questions. Had Stamm involved him? Or was there another player on the board?

Richter and Malone had driven off and Stefano had sent the car at his disposal to follow discreetly. Ascolani had ordered him to keep Richter in their sights. Okay. Done. He’d moved in another direction, after receiving a short text from Ascolani.Come to Siena.Which he’d also done. He’d texted his boss on arrival and a reply had come fast.Upper gallery of Cathedral of St. Mary of the Assumption. At your convenience.

Which he knew meant now.

He continued to make his way toward the cathedral, the buildings and balconies draped with colorful banners. Every nook and cranny of Siena vibrated with the tingle of the celebration. There would be games in the streets, concerts, and baptisms of all those born during the previous year. So much to see, even more to feel. The famous parade was happening. All eighteencontradasparticipated, though only ten of those would race tomorrow. It had to be that way as the track could not accommodate them all. So a procedure had evolved. The eight who did not run in the previous race were automatically included. The remaining two were drawn by lot from the other ten. Here, though, in the streets, there was plenty of room for all.

Eachcontradafielded drummers, men-at-arms, horsemen, and flag wavers who performed with flawless agility. In the lead were the trumpeters dressed in medieval black-and-white tights and red tunics. Next came the standard-bearers marching in formation, followed by the flags of the mercers, apothecaries, painters, blacksmiths, and stonemasons. Then came the Capitano del Popolo astride a solid charger adorned in armor, with a page walkingahead bearing a sword and shield. He was the ceremonial head of the Palio. Strangely, no one appeared out of place or embarrassed by the odd regalia. Just the opposite, as the people of Siena seemed to walk with grace and ease into the fifteenth century.

Representatives of thecontradasthen appeared. One after the other. Last rode eachcontrada’sjockey upon a parade horse, the actual horse for the race at the end with only a cloth flung over its back.

Color abounded. Which he knew was important. White for glory. Red for strength. Blue for peace. Yellow for nobility. Eachcontradautilized a unique mix of the four colors, their territory across Siena marked by their flags angling from the buildings. Those individual color schemes were also incorporated into scarves the people wore around their necks, given to them when they were children but donned only twice a year. It was considered bad luck to wash the scarves, so they all bore the dirt and grime from past Palios.

He stopped for a moment.

One of thecontradasdrew level to where he stood. The men were dressed in tunics of yellow with black and blue edging, their hose yellow, the calf of each leg encircled by two blue bands.

Eagles.

The roll of a drum moved the air.

Several of them then faced one another and cast the flags they carried up thirty feet, catching them shaft-first. As if that were too easy they cast them up again, then turned their backs on the falling flags, catching them backward as they came down. Then they twirled them beneath their legs and tossed them back and forth like flaming torches, one to the other, while the crowd roared its approval. Thealzata. A talent unique to Siena, which harked back to when a banner on the battlefield was every soldier’s reference point. Lose the banner and they lost the fight. So its bearers learned to keep it high, which eventually developed into an art form.

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