In the morning, Rocco and Bettina go in search of Marisa, who they believe is trying to keep a watch on the House of Crows. As they approach their destination, Rocco is made by some ruffians in one of the local taverns. He and Bettina split up - Bettina to search out Marisa; Rocco to go the Baths of Diocletian to seek out Fra Michele and let him know the news and talk to Renzo. They meet up later, Bettina with Marisa in tow, and return to the Deliziosa.
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Updated: Apr 28, 2025
Rocco is troubled by his dreams reminding him of his promise to the Graces. However, today is a work day. He and Marco, Astore, Fra. Giovanni and Father Arturo make their way over to the Black Cat, in a group for safety. They proceed without incident, the streets being somewhat quieter than before, the battle for the Colliseo being over - or at least suspended for now. However, Rocco has a suspicion that the house was watched and that their movements dogged. At the Black Cat they meet Trucco and agree that at least for now they might as well be the liaison for Fra Michele at the Baths of Diocletian.
On their return to the Hose of Crows they receive a visitor. A dapper fellow who gives his name as Gepetto Bardone, knocks politely at the door. He is flanked by a couple of bruisers. Although he is courteous in his demeanour, it soon becomes clear that he is here to demand protection money. They decline. He leaves suggesting that it might have been better had they listened to his reasonable demands.
The following morning they leave by a clandestine route, nipping over the garden wall and make their way to the rendezvous for Fra Michele. Rocco negotiates his way inside with the aid of Venetian gold. He and Renzo have a wary conversation where each hints at a greater knowledge but neither come clean, though Renzo does voice his admiration for Cola and his ideas for a better Rome. He also knows of the Bardoni - a Suburra gang - and has nothing good to say of them. His henchman, Lino guides Rocco to the rent in the ground that they use as a midden. Rocco wields away with his pruning hook at the foliage around the hole.
Gerdening done, the group make their way to the Black Cat once more. Traversing the city is difficult today, there appears to be widespread disorder in the area around the half-built Colonna Palazzo. When they finally make it to the Black Cat, it is quite late in the afternoon. Trucco has heard of the Bardoni and says more or less the same of them as Renzo. They are a Suburra gang and comprise two brothers of whom Gepetto is the elder and the brains of the outfit. His brother Carlo has an evil reputation for violence and breeds savage dogs. There is an aunt, known as Signora Scopatora, who is a well-known fence. They must be going up in the world if they are now trying to collect rents on the Viminale.
Returning to the House of the Crows proves difficult, for the situation around the Palazzo Colonna resembles a pitched battle. The most direct route would take them through the Suburra, but they are reluctant to risk that. They eventually take a very circuitous route up the Quirinale, where they run into a street robbery in progress. They rescue what proves to be a couple of Jews and their donkey from a bunch of street toughs. One of the Jews is badly injured. They realise that the Deliziosa is nearby so they seek shelter there and succour for the wounded man.
They are flabbergasted to find Bettina there. She has bad news. A band of ruffians came to the House of Crows that afternoon with a battering ram. She and Marisa shot a few crossbow bolts and skipped out the back. Marisa is hanging around to see what she can find out about their attackers. She came to the only place she knew in Rome - the Deliziosa, in the hope that they could get a message to the Black Cat. It was a miracle that they showed up here too.
Marco’s Journal
Now I must scribble these thoughts in haste, for we are in peril and homeless once more, with many new problems to solve.
But I should start at the beginning.
For weeks the mood in the city had turned ugly; armed men walked openly in the streets and sought to rob the meek or squabble with other bands of ruffians. It seems the great houses push against each other in earnest, and lesser rivals follow suit, all the way down to the rabble in the street. In such times being outside one’s door is fraught with peril, but you cannot earn your bread sitting within. Rocco felt our house was being watched, so we took care not to wander alone in the streets, but went to work in a group, and varied our route from the House of Crows to the Black Cat.
Rocco had made a promise to the Maidens of the Midden that dwell in the darkness far beneath the ruined Baths of Diocletian – apparently the shaft of sunlight that brightens their squalid abode is being blocked by green growth above, and shadows linger even in the underworld. So his task was to find the hole where today’s rubbish is thrown down from the ruins above, and do some weeding. It being dangerous to walk the streets alone in these times of chaos, we agreed to help Rocco fulfil his promise, however strange the task might seem and with no obvious reward. But we have been comrades since we met on the road to Rome, and my other companions all felt the same.
We needed to find a hole in a maze of ruins occupied by a host of the desperately poor, governed by a small band who had taken over after the pirates had been scoured out by the Venetians. But the mendicant Fra Michele lives in those ruins, and he had been our guide into Rome so many months ago. So we spoke to Trucco at the Black Cat, and he was happy to give us his task of meeting Michele in two days to check he was well and see if he had any news for Cola. If we took over that duty of regular contact, it would save him many tiresome journeys across Rome as the House of Crows was much closer than the Black Cat to the Baths of Diocletian.
The streets were quiet on our way home; apparently the Frangipani assault on the Colosseum had been repelled by the ruffian gangs within, and no-one molested us. But the air was full of tension, and every alley seemed to have eyes watching us. It was the same the next day, so we stayed behind our locked doors and left the troubles on the streets outside; it was our last morning of peaceful contemplation.
In the early afternoon our house-guard Bettina called us, saying a man in the street was asking for entry. It was one Geppetto Bardoni - the local crime-lord. Geppetto asked to come in with his men, which Rocco politely declined. So he spoke his business to us, which was blackmail. Pay 25 florins and 5 more each month, or else. It was put more politely, but it was plain enough. We declined to pay, as such people offer no real protection and their demands only grow larger with time. If you cannot pay, you are in their debt, and your troubles grow accordingly. Our defiance ended the meeting; Geppetto said we would meet again soon, but in less happy circumstances. Now we felt under siege, for soon they would come to our door or attack us in the street. That night I sharpened my blades and pondered what to do.
Before dawn the next morning we took a ladder and climbed from our garden into the side alley. With no gate or door on that side, we hoped to evade any spies and let them think we remained within. In the cool early light we made our way by the back streets to the Baths of Diocletian, avoiding a rioting mob which was assaulting a half-built palazzo defended by guardsmen in the colours of the Colonna. These fellows had hardly had their breakfast before starting a pitched battle on the streets of Rome! Chaos had descended, indeed.
Nearby the ruins we met our old friend Michele in a small bar, and told him what we were up to. He said he would introduce us to Renzo, the ‘protector’ of the ruins but advised us to speak truthfully to him and avoid deception. We stood back while Rocco bartered with Renzo and eventually was taken within the Baths to do his worst with the weeds around their rubbish hole. Renzo drove a hard bargain, for it cost Rocco ten Venetian ducats for a guide and an hour within the Baths, but he returned pleased with his gardening. We left Renzo wondering what mischief we were really up to, while checking our ducats were real coins. But he knew of the Bardoni gang, and gave us some useful information, although it hardly lifted our spirits. He thought them a very bad lot, and he should know as he had surely come up the hard way in the same district of Rome.
As the afternoon progressed we tried to make our way back home, but the riot was now a full pitched battle with cavalry against the mob, and whichever way we went seemed difficult. After walking in circles for hours we declined to enter the maze of alleys in the district controlled by the Bardoni mob, given our recent conversation with Geppetto, and instead began a long climb up the Quirinale hill as evening approached.
We were still miles from home and getting short-tempered with the endless obstacles Fate seemed to put in our path for no good reason. Now I think it might have been the work of Saint Christopher, for travellers were in peril, including – as it turned out - ourselves.
As we passed a dark alley, we saw an old man being attacked by armed men, while a youth lay stunned at his feet. In the background a donkey was protesting loudly, as other thieves tried to drag it away. The frustration of our day boiled over. In a trice, we piled in. Rocco led the way, followed by Astore and I. Rocco engaged an axeman with his staff, while Astore dashed up a side alley to out-flank the donkey-thieves. Soon Rocco had pushed past the first axeman and engaged another behind him, allowing me to enter the fray. A few blows and the hapless youth went down and surrendered. The next man did the same as I closed on him, leaving Rocco to pursue the donkey thieves round the corner. With a few shrewd thrusts of his blade Astore had already dealt with them, and they fled for their lives. Meanwhile Father Arturo and Fra Giovanni were treating the unconscious youth and the old man.
Apparently they were Jews from Siena who had just arrived in the chaos of Rome and had chosen their guides unwisely. Those rascals had lead them far away from their destination in the Jewish quarter and planned to kill them and steal all their possessions in the back alley we found them. The poor old man was wounded and alone in a city on fire, with his nephew prostrate at his feet. We all knew he would not make it to the next street if we left him. By the will of Providence, kindness filled all our hearts, and Brother Arturo reminded us of the parable of the good Samaritan, and the words of Jesus: ‘Go and Do Likewise’.
So I told the old man we would not desert him, but take him to our own home, although in all this chaos we might not be safe even there. Now it was getting dark, and none of us had taken a lantern as we expected to be home long before dusk. So Rocco carried the lad and I led the donkey, while Astore led us all round a few corners to our old friend Donna Giulia at the Deliziosa, so we could borrow a lantern and a few links to light our way. We found Donna and her girls in the Deliziosa, and with them a bigger surprise – Bettina. She told us the Bardoni gang had arrived that afternoon with a battering ram and gone through the front door - right quick - after a couple of hard blows. Our house-guards had escaped using the same ladder we had used at dawn, after wounding two of the dozen armed attackers with
crossbow shots. Behold ! In all the chaos of the streets, out of all the bars in Rome, Providence had brought us together so we could learn that the House of Crows was taken, and armed men lay in wait for us. It seems Saint Christopher was looking out for us as much as the old Jew.
So here we are, with few possessions and little money - our goods and home looted, and the Bardoni gang waiting for us. Not to mention two Jews and a donkey to deliver to safety, across a city engulfed in madness.
Let’s just hope Saint Christopher is not done for the night yet.
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