“Why did you keep those diaries hidden? Why did your father and his before him do the same?”
“No one cared what we knew or what he had.”
“But the pledge? The promise to pay the debt. What about that?”
“That document is gone. It has been five hundred years.”
That he did not want to hear.
But it did answer the question. His family had simply not possessed the drive or ability to do anything meaningful. And without DNA technology their claim to be a royal Medici would have fallen on deaf ears. He was the first of his family to have all the necessary tools.
“Nonna.” He thought the more intimate name might soften the bitter nerves. “I have four problems. The first is establishing that there was a legal marriage between Anna Maria and Raffaello de’ Pazzi. The second is locating Pazzi’s grave. The third is proving a genetic connection between Pazzi and me. The final dilemma is finding the Medici copy of the Pledge of Christ.”
“It does not exist.”
“How do you know that?”
She said nothing.
But she’d been right on one thing. TheywereMedici.
It rests safely under a watchful eye and this verse will lead the way.
Those words had to mean something, along with what came after.
Know the darkened world has long missed the night and day, which while the shade still hung before his eyes, shone like a guide unto steps afar. Ne’er will the sweet and heavenly tones resound, silent be the harmonies of his sweet lyre, only in Raffaello’s bright world can it be found.
What had Anna Maria meant?
Then it hit him.
Only in Raffaello’s bright world can it be found.
Of course. Now he knew.
CHAPTER 48
COTTON HAD WATCHED AS THEPORCUPINE JOCKEY WHISPERED WITHtwo others, the conversations short, but nods of the heads had signaled thepartitit, an agreement.
“It is critical you pay attention to who the Porcupine approaches,” Camilla said. “They will be your enemy.”
He’d also studied all thecontradacolors and now knew that the trouble would come from the Tortoises and Panthers. The two flanked him on either side at the starting rope, one in the fifth position the other in the seventh. Coincidence? Hardly. The Porcupines had waited for the starting order to be revealed, then chosen their allies wisely. No telling how much money had passed on a promise. The Porcupine was two horses over toward the inside in the fourth position. Nothing about the glare the bearded jockey threw his way signaled friendly.
Nine horses pranced anxiously at the starting rope. The tenth horse, from the Dragons, remained behind them, ready to start the race with a dash toward the starting line. Therincorsawas apparently reveling in his power position since he’d already teased a start twice only to stop short and retreat behind the pack. Cotton’s two minders on either side were keeping their mounts close to his, which Leone clearly did not appreciate. One kept shifting on his hooves, returning every bump into him one for one.
Horses generally shied away from a fight, fleeing problems, not embracing them. Cotton stroked Leone’s neck, calming her, but noticed that the ears were constantly shifting. Pointed forward meant the focus was on the horses. Ears back? She was listening to her rider. Pinned straight down? That meant she was pissed. And all of that was compounded by a fun fact he learned from his grandfather. Horses could not focus directly ahead. Only at the periphery. Leone would have to turn her head to see, and she was doing just that, agitated at the horses to her right and left, ears straight down.
Watch out.
The crowd was becoming impatient with the Dragon’s flirtations with the starting rope. They wanted the race to start.
So did he.
“You two need to stay out of this,” he said in Italian to the jockeys on either side. “It will not end well. I don’t give a damn about rules.”
Neither replied.
But both stepped up their assaults on Leone with their own mounts.