Marco’s Journal : Deuteronomy Days

Yea, their day of disaster is near, and destiny rushes upon them.

I’ve been hearing a lot of Deuteronomy of late, with Brother Giovanni’s help. He likes preaching other texts, but he can’t deny a bible request; verse 32 has been keeping me going.

St Michael be praised! For the Lord sent us aid and the means to defeat our enemies, just as promised by Deuteronomy. With faith we had the courage to overcome - for fear is the weapon of true destruction. The witch Ornella ruled her slaves with fear, and the sorceror Caltagirone used greed and ambition to twist the hearts of men. Now they are dead, and here is the story of their ending.

After Cola left us in charge of Orenella’s quarters in the Three-Way House, with a whole 5 florins each as our reward, we were glad to be alive but only half-way to our revenge. We wanted to spy on the House of Crows, so he sent Trucco and some lads to take over our duties for a while. We noted the streets outside had been swept clean of bodies in double-quick time, and wondered who wanted all these corpses ? For Providence whispered in our ears and made a hunch out of curiosity. So we sniffed around and found many bodies had gone to the Mausoleum of Nerva where embalming took place for bodies with a long way to travel before the grave. Expensive, and these were the poor of Subura. The place was an ancient ruin, with a family business run by one Giancarlo Ricchi. We followed a wagon all the way from there to the House of Crows – so our hunch was right, someone was sending new recruits to the Necromancer. No rest for the wicked indeed; the Bardoni were hardly hung and soon he would have a new army.

Well that was a test of faith and no mistake. I could think of no way to assault the House of Crows guarded by a Witch, the Sorceror, Bardoni rabble, and a new set of dead henchmen besides. Brother Giovanni scolded me for my doubts and quoted Psalms and Proverbs as well was St Paul writing to the Romans some 13 centuries before. So - Hope Springs Eternal, he said. But I must doff my cap to his conviction, for soon enough Providence heard our prayers and sent us Deliverance.

Well the Pope did anyway.

One day Cola called us all to meet at the Three-Way House – ‘be ready for anything’ was the word. Well I brought all my war-gear, but I was not ready for the Archbishop of Toledo. He came on an ox-drawn carroccio, with a choir of monks singing, and some real hard nuts as his bodyguard. We all lined up to kiss his ring – Rocco piled in first, but I felt humility for my doubts and kept to the back of the line. Archbishop Albornoz never wavered as the line progressed, just held a big silver hammer on his shoulder, with a holy relic set in the steel. He looked the real deal – the Hammer of God.

He had heard of the Eternal City in chaos, a tyranny of evil men and witchcraft - this must end. Now. All three companies there said Amen and signed up for his crusade there and then. When he asked for a briefing on the den of witchcraft, I told him the sorceror would surely flee into the tunnels beneath the streets as his Grace kicked in the front door, just as he had done before. So straight-way we were charged with stopping up his escape route with our bodies. Cola told us this was vital for Rome and wrung his hands; I told him bluntly we would do it or die trying. He seemed to note our resolve and got out of our way. We threw on our armour, grabbed some extra lantern oil and food, and used the secret exit from Ornella’s quarters down into the darkness of the underworld.

Straight-way we took a wrong turn and somehow ended up in the chamber of the Maidens of the Midden. I have no idea how we went so far in error, but at least we have found a new route to the Baths of Diocletian. Rocco flattered them in his usual way, but they did not bless our steps as father Arturo declined to sing a song and dance a few steps for them. He persists in his belief that the maidens are demons from hell and even conversation with them could imperil his very soul. Strange how the holy father might be tarnished when Rocco’s soul seems utterly impervious.

Soon we had found our way again and approached the very passageway beneath the House of Crows. Rocco led the way, followed by myself, Giovanni, Arturo and then Lino and Renzo. They had older scores than we did against the Witch. A sudden honking of geese came from the shadows and then Rocco was engaged by a goat-man abomination and some horrible cross between a goose and a child! The sorceror had been busy with his necromantic arts for the tunnel was filled with these things and they blocked the way.

After a few stern blows, Rocco grew tired and we changed places; then I took the fight to these horrors. A swift changeover is an essential part of tunnel fighting, and Providence guided our steps. Straight-way I swung my falcione with vigour, for I had decided to attack relentlessly as the horrors felt no pain but had little skill with weapons. Kissing the Archbishop’s ring motivated me even more than a thirst for revenge, for Providence guided my hand - blow after blow I struck, never missing. Doing good has no end, they say. One after another the goat-men went down, until a huge serpent with the face of the witch Ornella slithered out into the passage to replace them. She wielded a bright sword, armoured with scales and lighting flashed from her eyes; truly a great evil to trouble the world. Still Providence sat upon my shoulder – her lightning missed me, and we traded blows until she slithered off at speed, followed by the last of the weird-geese.

Now we held the tunnel, masters of the field, and guarded the low passage which led from the House of Crows into the main tunnel. We all agreed there was no need to follow – let them come to us and face four to one at the entrance, with prayers behind on each side. We waited nearly an hour in the darkness, wondering what might be happening far above on the streets of Rome. Suddenly four weird-geese returned – some bearing a small dagger full of poison. All were hacked down swiftly, but one stabbed poor Rocco in the arm, and soon its venom burned in his blood. Right after the geese came a large man with a bull's head, bearing a great axe. He charged Lino, and buffeted him back against the tunnel wall. Behind him came the Witch-Wyrm once more, and the hulking idiot servant we had spared when we first drove the sorceror from his abode above. The idiot drank a potion and was transformed into a monstrous swollen hulk maddened by rage. Now chaos reigned: I fought the Witch-Wyrm alongside Father Arturo, while Rocco, Lino and Brother Giovanni fought the bull-headed man, and Renzo faced the raging hulk. The Witch struck down father Arturo with more lightning from her eyes and wrapped her coils around me. I drew a dagger and struck at it in a frenzy until darkness finally claimed me.

When I came to, and found myself alive, I learned that I had killed the serpent before it squeezed all the life from my body, and my comrades had overcome the hulk and the bull-man too, after a desperate struggle. Even Brother Giovanni had drawn the dagger I gave him and stabbed away until the end. Everyone upright was bashed and wounded, except for me – I lay as a man half-drowned, with no breath and sore ribs, but no deep wound at all.

Soon a voice called from the darkness offering gold for passage to escape. Although I could not stand, the voice of the sorceror roused in me the will to resist and spite him. I told him to go back and face his doom – we cared nought for his gold or pleading for mercy. Only death awaited him – by our blades or the Hammer of the Lord above. He chose poison instead and cheated his enemies of the satisfaction of putting him to death. Soon afterwards we heard the voice of our friend Noli calling for us, and could make our way painfully back up into the world above. We received the praise of the Archbishop for carrying out our mission faithfully, as we watched the House of Crows looted by his forces before being torn down and wrecked as an example. They hung up the dead body of the sorceror in the courtyard, and built a great pyre of ruin to burn all his unholy works. Us wounded got a cart ride back while the fun was happening.

That evening everyone came back to the Three-Way House to celebrate. Although exhausted, I managed a cup of wine and listened as Noli told us the Archbishop’s monks took a battering ram from his carroccio, smashed the front doors down right away, and marched within signing hymns. The Bardoni rabble were cut down by the armed soldiers supporting the monks, and they forced their way within the House without delay. A host of necromantic horrors quailed from the holy hymns, while the Archbishop laid into them with the Hammer of the Lord! One blow was enough to crush the evil spell binding them together. It was a slaughter.

Cola was delighted, and placed us back in charge of his portion of the Three-Way House with the Bardoni rent-books to ponder over.

So this chapter of our lives is over - we have lost everything in the wreckage of the battle but gained a new home and maybe a new living as well. All of us are alive and our enemies cast down into hell – St Michael be praised!

Marco’s Journal:Two Down,Two to Go

Saint Christopher be praised! We are safe and triumphant! The streets are abuzz with the news that the Conti and the Frangipani rode down the Bardoni gang and now garrison ‘The Three-Way House’ with our patron Cola. Read on, as I tell how that wonder turned out, and also what is not told in the streets.

As the hot afternoon wore on, we waited within the Three-Way House for the assault of the Bardoni. We closed all three gates on to the street, and jammed wicker hurdles in front of the inner doors before dropping the bar on each. Each gate had a room above with a hatch for unloading a cart, and there we piled up missiles and pots of olive oil and a brazier. Renzo and Lino led the defence of Carlo’s gate, helped by Astore, while Lorenzo and I held Gepetto’s gate. Two of the Sweeper’s urchins had thrown in their lot with us and acted as out lookouts and runners, while Rocco did a roving patrol with a crossbow in case of surprises. Soon we heard a commotion in the street outside.

Then Father Arturo went to the top floor of the old gatehouse, and led the nuns in a liturgy – singing out prayers for our deliverance and confusion to the enemy. He resisted a strange gust of wind which tried to disrupt the holy harmony, and I think I heard the witch cry out in pain far below. It was hard to be sure as a mob had gathered in the street below, whipped up by the Bardoni to storm the gates and release the nuns ‘kidnapped by the false priest’. It is strange what words can influence a mob when any questioning mind might poke a few holes in such a bag of hot air. Perhaps the witch was out there, befuddling minds, or maybe the Suburra mob would believe anything their patron told them.

Soon they took a ram to Carlo’s gate and axemen hacked at Gepetto’s. Missiles and hot oil from above repelled these tyros, and Lorenzo used his arts to ignite my oil as it sizzled on the shields and bodies below. The fire sent them screaming back into the street, where it took their masters a long while to urge them to another attempt. This went the same way as the first, and so we held them all off for an hour or so.

It was hot work for them, but we did not have much more oil to throw when we heard the clear call of a trumpet outside, answered by another bugle, and then the clatter of iron on stone and the cries of wounded men. We scrambled up to the top of the gatehouse once more to see knights riding down the mob with footsoldiers sweeping the streets behind them. We cheered as we saw the colours of the Frangipani with our friends Matteo and Noli riding with them, and also the colours of the Conti, and last of all Cola upon a horse with his followers on foot behind.

In a trice the mob were slaughtered and scattered, and so we were saved. We threw open all the gates and our saviours met in the courtyard : the Conti, the Frangipani and the Notary shook hands at the meeting of the Three Ways, and each looted a third of the palazzo. The Frangipani took Carlo’s portion, the Conti took Gepetto’s, and Cola took Ornella’s quarters. It was clear from the start that news of her hoard of ancient findings had reached him from Fra. Giovanni, who turned up at Cola’s heels to greet us all again. Well Met! For without his part, all would have come to naught for us.

The three allies agreed to garrison their portion of the palazzo against the return of the Bardoni, for although Carlo’s head was on a pikestaff, no sign of Gepetto or Ornella’s could be found amongst the slain men strewn about the street. So we caught our breath awhile, and remembered our prisoners in the cage. The Frenchman turned out to be a Gascon called Gaston de Buch who was much irked to be questioned by one of the English – for we learned at last that Noli was from that far-off land, and he bore no staff but instead a bow longer than a man’s height.

The Gascon bargained for his life. He was the debt collector for the Bardoni, and knew their business. He knew where Gepetto kept two mistresses, and would show us these safe-houses in exchange for his life. For two florins more he would aid us by asking for entrance. Matteo agreed we should search these at once, if only to prove he must have fled to the House of Crows with Ornella.

The other prisoner, was Scolisi, who kept the Bardoni accounts. We let him go as a maimed scribbler seemed to be little threat or use to anyone. Once again, Providence had whispered in my ear and our mercy would be rewarded. But more of that later.

So Noli, Rocco, Astore and Lorenzo went with Father Arturo and I out into the Suburra after dark, guided by Gaston de Buch to the nearest safe house. The Gascon urged the guard to let him in, as he had urgent news for Gepetto. He was told to wait, and the grille in the door snapped shut. If he was going for orders, it could only mean Gepetto was within. ‘Open It’ I hissed to Lorenzo. The lock held fast against his muttering for a little while, but then gave way. We rushed inside as the Gascon slouched against the wall, a blithe turncoat. Through a little courtyard, then up the stairs. On the first floor a crossbow shot streaked through my armour to stick in the wall behind, before an axeman covered a doorway as he reloaded beyond. The axeman knew his business, and soon I had to retreat after taking two great blows to my shoulder. One more would send me to a sick-bed for sure, or maybe worse. Rocco pressed on past me with Noli, and they followed both guards up to the second floor for a final desperate struggle. Whilst Father Arturo patched up my shoulder, Rocco gave his all to overcome the axeman and stab the already wounded Gepetto before collapsing from his wounds. Then Noli took a dagger to Gepetto’s throat, and the crossbowman threw down.

So Gepetto was taken; his mistress wept as I tied his hands and put a bag over his head. We let the crossbowman run for his life and quickly looted the place. I gained a haubergeon which might have been made for me, and a second which did not fit, a fine dagger, and a large bunch of strongbox keys. Then we made up a stretcher for poor Rocco and set off for home. Just outside we found the crossbowman with his throat cut and no sign of the Gaston; one less witness of his turned coat. The rascal seems unencumbered by mercy, despite what had been shown to him; he might as well be a Frenchman. Doubtless he will have much to explain to St Peter when justice catches up with him. Father Arturo carried the two haubergeons I had looted, while the sturdy Lorenzo and I carried poor Rocco back to the House of Three Ways. Once again, Providence led us safely through the dark and quiet alleys of the Suburra. Maybe the streets had seen enough blood for one day.

The young Conti noble and Matteo congratulated us on taking Gepetto prisoner and condemned him to hang the next morning. I spoke a few words to him in case he wanted a priest for his confession or to aid us in dealing with the sorcerer Caltagirone who had brought ruin down on his House, but he wanted neither. Instead he tried to buy his life with talk of a secret cypher for the records of his Suburra debtors. For an Angel jostled my head as I reported his scribbler killed by the Gascon when we had let him go alive; worn out I got the names confused. Cola thought this very cunning on my part, so I held my tongue about my error and thanked Providence once more. It turned out for the best as Cola now agreed with Matteo and the young Conti that Gepetto should hang in the morning – while he quietly sent Truco out to hunt the scribbler Scolisi down. That night we had the strongbox keys safe while the Conti searched for them in vain and Cola pondered his next move. For those rent books might give him the power to become a Patron of the Suburra and grow his influence accordingly. Then I lay down on Ornella’s feather bed and slept like a dead man, for it had been a very long day of trial and hard knocks.

In the morning a Conti herald went outside and proclaimed that Gepetto Bardone would hang for his many crimes that very morning. A crowd gathered to watch him swing from the top floor of the gatehouse – some cheered and some cried out for their patron; scuffles broke out among the factions. Bardone refused a priest once more, shrugged off the hangman and jumped off the parapet cursing us all : a long drop with a sudden stop. The three allies will leave him hanging there to rot as a statement of authority over the Suburra. Doubtless the Bardoni brothers will have much to debate with the damned; I find it hard to believe they found a place waiting for them in Heaven.

So two down and two to go. The witch and the sorcerer still abide in the House of Crows, and we must deal with them next. But not today - today we took poor Rocco to the Convent of Santa Bibita, whose nuns we had just rescued, and he rests there in their hospital.

***********

Marco’s Journal : Fools’ Gamble

Fooled ! We were all fooled ! Now I must scribble these words in haste, for once more we wait for battle to start, and I know not if these words will be my only legacy.

Just as Renzo, Lino and the urchins were ready to depart, as I scribbled in my Journal upstairs, I heard a voice calling from the courtyard. It was that villain Gepetto Bardone calling for Ornella:

• ‘Speak to Me !...Come On, Stop Sulking !…Come On, Auntie, Speak to Me !….

• silence

• ‘ Well Today’s the Day!….We are Going in Three hours…’

• ‘If You Want One of Those Things, You’ll have to Come Out…’

• silence

• ‘If You don’t Come Out, We Will Go Without You….’

• silence

• ‘Suit Yourself….In Three Hours...We Go ! ‘

Straight-way I made downstairs to stop them on the threshold - only just in time. We needed a new plan, for it was clear the nuns were going to meet their fate - and the sorcerer – very soon. Clearly there was not enough time to get the urchins away through the sewers, warn Cola at the Black Cat, and get our allies back here before they left. In haste we gave thought and wondered about letting the urchins out of the nearest courtyard gate while we rushed Gepetto’s door. Rosa suggested it might be safer for the children to get out from the sewers and one of the urchins tried to speak up. He choked on his words and I saw Rosa looking strangely at him – just a glance - but full of malice.

At last, after all these hours, I smelled the whiff of sorcery.

The devil is made of lies, Fra. Giovanni tells me, and looks after his own. So it was when I grabbed Rosa suddenly and held a knife to her throat…. for there was no throat there, nor any Rosa with it, just thin air and her...nearby. In a trice the scales fell from our eyes and her walking stick became a broom as she swept sturdy Rocco aside with a gesture and flew on it out of the basement door and off into the endless dark of the sewers.

The Witch Lives ! A Sweeper indeed.

We stood stunned for a moment, and then Renzo said ‘ That was Her. She had us. As soon as we saw her, we knew. But we had no will to resist, or to say anything.’ No wonder I thought he was kind-hearted to take her with the urchins, after her part in their keeping. But this was all spilled milk; she had fooled us all and we must move on. For surely she would fly straight to the sorcerer, or another way out – if she knew the way. In any case, daylight was burning down while we waited like rats in a trap. We must strike, the sooner the better.

First Lorenzo used his arts to get Fra. Giovanni safely out of a window and down to the street thirty feet below, so he could take word of our plight to Cola and our allies. Next we sallied out into the courtyard and hid behind the line of hurdles, while Renzo and Lino got the children out of the tunnel gate and into the streets of the Subura. Then we all pushed back the hurdles and charged for Gepetto’s door. Four large mastiffs delayed us for a few moments, but fled inside Carlo’s door when they tasted steel; Rocco dashed across the courtyard just as the watchman closed the door on the far side. A shoving match ensued, as Rocco tried to force the door open and the watchman tried to drop the bar inside. I managed to jam the back of a falcione in the crack, which gave Rocco a chance to gather his strength and force our way in at last. He chased the watchman up some stairs, while I covered his back from another guard stabbing from a doorway on the left. He was no mug, and it took a few blows from my falcata to back him into the guardroom; eventually he begged for quarter and threw down his arms. I made him an ill-favoured pope-stealing Frenchman from his barbarous accent.

Meanwhile Rocco cut down his opponent and rushed on up the stairs, followed by Astore and, rather more slowly, Father Arturo, who was singing a hymn accompanied from afar by the faint sound of a heavenly choir. Doubtless some holy work, I thought, although it turned out to be the nuns instead. Whilst I disarmed and questioned the French rascal, Rocco and Arturo were led a merry dance above by what turned out to be Gepetto Bardone who had been shooting down into the courtyard at my friends all the while we were forcing our way within. His aspect at home was more of an Italian dancing master, as he evaded Rocco and Astore with various displays of agility which left them chasing him back and forth in vain. Eventually he threw his sword down into the courtyard thirty feet below and made a death-defying swing above the courtyard using a decorative piece of iron-work to escape around a dead end and back into Ornella’s quarters. Truly the devil was looking after his own once more! From there, he could just walk out into the street from the same gate the children had used.

Now we were masters of the whole place, for Renzo, Lino and Lorenzo had forced their way inside Carlo’s door and overcome the two guardsmen within. They had caged the cowed dogs and freed a gaggle of nuns from a prison cell. I rounded up a few servants and put the lot in the same prison cell with our captured guards, after the nuns had bandaged up a few of their wounds. Father Arturo was complaining loudly about a crossbow wound - although it seemed to have done more damage to his priestly shirt than his body. Doubtless the Lord was looking after his own too. Lino had taken several such shots, and Renzo and Rocco had many cuts and bruises, but we all licked our wounds and took stock of our situation.

I explained to the nuns why they had been taken, and who had sent us here to rescue them and thwart the plans of this evil gang. I feared that if we just left this place and took them to safety, the Bardoni would return and the evil they do would just start up once more. The nuns had faith that Providence would watch over us until our allies could arrive and said we must hold fast against our enemies. All of us agreed to take that gamble, although it will be hard to hold this place against a determined gang of rogues. For we could see no other way to truly hurt the Bardoni. Now we have all their goods at hazard, and the nuns beside, and they must try and get them back.

So now we wait within the Bardoni palazzo, waiting for a challenge from outside. Then it will be cold steel once more, although maybe Providence will aid us again. Push will come to shove soon enough, I reckon.