Chapter 5: Tondolo (1/2)
Young Tondolo led the new Pope through the long corridor covered with thick carpet and stopped outside a room. The smell of frankincense1 wafted through the crack of the tightly closed door. Legend has it that when Saint Leah was born, fragrant resin dripped from the trees nearby, which emitted a pungent and exotic fragrance after being burned by fire. This expensive incense from the East became a hallmark of the Holy See. During every major celebration, huge copper basins would be erected in the square, and barrels of incense would be poured into them. Thousands of florins worth of incense would be burned in a single day.
For example, in today’s Miracle Square, several large copper basins were continuously burning frankincense and myrrh. The entire city of Florence was filled with this heavy, solemn fragrance, and Rafael’s money was also being burned away like water.
Rafael sniffed and discerned a pungent mixture of pepper and laurel leaves in addition to the frankincense and myrrh. This was used to stimulate the patient’s mind. Usually, only patients who were completely unable to wake up before dying would be forced to use this method of stimulating the nerves – to allow him enough time to leave a last testament.
He glanced at Young Tondolo and pushed opened the door.
Palazzo Riccardi was originally the residence of Pope Riccardi III. In order to be elected Pope, he had donated all his wealth to the cardinals, including this palace, which had only recently been completed. After Cardinal Tondolo obtained Palazzo Riccardi, he did not make many renovations, so the palace still retained the square and regular style of the period of Pope Riccardi III.
The bedroom was not large, with purple velvet curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows tightly. Slender, classical columns supported a high ceiling. The rise and fall of the figure on the four-poster bed with curtains drawn was barely visible. Incense burned in the stove in front of the bed, but its peak had passed, and the smoke now drifted lazily outward.
Rafael’s brow furrowed briefly, then smoothed out.
Julius also carried the scent of myrrh and laurel leaves, indicating that he had spent a considerable amount of time in this room. What did he want to hear from Cardinal Tondolo? Was it really, as he had said, merely to learn what unfulfilled wishes Tondolo had?
Rafael was reluctant to maliciously speculate about his mentor, his guide, and the man who had sheltered him for so long in his youth, but...
He had long entrusted the patrol shifts of the guards outside the Pope’s chambers to Julius. He knew Julius’s mind and methods all too well. Yet, on the night of his death, there was no one outside the Pope’s bedroom. The assassin had boldly pushed open the door and walked right up to his bed.
Until he solved this mystery, he couldn’t give his precious trust to anyone.
Not even Julius.
Especially Julius.
Betrayal from someone close to you was more bitter than any wine in the world.
Rafael was unwilling to taste that bitterness again.
“Father, father, the Pope is here to visit you, father, wake up...” Young Tondolo stood behind the curtain, softly calling out to the sleeping Cardinal Tondolo. The old man in the bed had white hair and beard, his face was full of old wrinkles, and his body was thin and sunken into the fluffy down quilt, like a dry branch falling into cotton. If you didn’t look closely, you couldn’t even see that there was a person there.
Cardinal Tondolo, though barely in his early fifties, appeared as frail as an octogenarian. The wealth and splendor of Florence gave him a better life than most people, but it also drained the nutrients from his body in the last stage of his life.
Constant streams of visitors roused him from his slumber, large doses of spices and medicines dragged his life on a thread, while his relatives tried to squeeze more wealth from him. The resources in the hands of a cardinal were so huge that ordinary people could hardly imagine. While he had not yet been called by the Lord Almighty, everyone wanted to grab the greatest benefit for themselves.
Cardinal Tondolo’s face was gray and deathly pale, his cheeks sunken. He lay in a long slumber, his mind constantly wandering back to his youth, a time filled with vigor and vitality. Alas it’s great to be young. You had a flexible mind and quick thinking. He could wield a sword against bandits, debate endlessly with others over a single issue for days on end, and throw himself wholeheartedly into any task.
His life was neither long nor short, yet to him it felt like an eternity. His dearest friends had long passed, his wife had abandoned him, and none of his brothers and sisters survived. He had taken on the responsibility of carrying on their bloodline, caring for his nieces and nephews as if they were his own children. He educated them, arranged their marriages, managed their wealth, and elevated them to higher positions, all to ensure the prosperity and continuity of the Tondolo family. For this, he had even chosen to sell his soul...
‘Lord, is it possible for this soul to find salvation ...’
A voice, distant and then near, pulled at his clouded consciousness. With a hazy awareness, he recognized it as his son’s.
Piano, oh Piano, this overly naive and foolish child. Before his father had even drawn his last breath, he had already been manipulated by others. He even brought that venomous snake, Julius, to my bedside. When I am gone, what will become of that foolish boy? And what of the Tondolo family?
‘So, who is it this time?’
With a sense of weariness and disgust, Cardinal Tondolo forced his eyelids open. Through the dim, flickering light of the room, he saw a figure standing at his bedside. ℞�
Struggling to keep his eyes open, he could only make out a head of long, radiant golden hair. A familiar white-gold robe swirled closer as the figure leaned over him. The scent of green myrrh and spikenard, exclusive to the Pope, filled his nostrils. He had been surrounded by this fragrance day and night, and he could always count on seeing this familiar robe as soon as he opened his eyes.
Through his blurred vision, he saw a pair of purple eyes staring at him, with their ends narrow and long, as sharp as a knife.
He was very familiar with these eyes.
Could it be that his old friend had come back to pick him up?
Yes, yes, that’s right, he was the Pope, God’s representative on earth. After being called by the Lord, he would surely join the ranks of the angels. It was not strange for him to come to the mortal world to guide the souls of the dying...
Young Tondolo watched in horror as his father, the dying Cardinal Tondolo, suddenly burst into tears. From somewhere, the cardinal found the strength to raise his trembling hands towards the young Pope, his chest heaving as if in supplication.
“Delacroix... Derek! Derek! Please – Oh God, I’m so sorry you had to come...”