A Brood of Vipers

finished the wine and bread I had stolen. Benjamin was like a child, almost hugging himself with pleasure.
    'I told you, Roger, Maria is the weak link in the Albrizzi chain.'
    I sat, silently wondering why the little woman should make her approach so quickly. At last the bells chimed and Benjamin and I went downstairs. A servant, after I had threatened to boot him up the backside (he was smaller than me), agreed to show us where the boxwood garden was. It was a small pleasance overgrown with grass, a perfect square hedged with boxwood and with a stone bench on each side. The flower beds had long disappeared, giving way to Michaelmas daisies, buttercups and a few straggly rose bushes. 'Over here!' a voice whispered.
    We crossed to one of the benches and sat down. Maria was apparently hidden in some small cavity within the boxwood behind us. 'It is Maria?' I asked. 'No, it's Richard III, Crosspatch!' she hissed back. 'Are your wits as crooked as your eyes?' 'What do you want?' I demanded.
    'Oh, for God's sake!' Maria hissed. 'Look as if you are talking to each other, not to me! Sweet Lord, what a precious pair of turtle doves! You'll not survive in Florence. Baby chicks in a brood of vipers!' 'What do you want?' Benjamin asked authoritatively. "The truth.' 'And what is the truth?' 'Nothing is what it seems to be.' 'We have gathered that,' I replied sardonically. 'Shut up, Crosspatch, and listen! Beware of Giovanni the condottiero. He likes killing and he dislikes you. The Lady Bianca is a whore. She was playing the two-backed beast with her husband's brother.' 'Why was that?' 'The Lord Francesco was impotent.' 'How do you know that?'
    'Because, on a number of occasions, he asked me to service him.' I snorted with laughter.
    'With my hand. And I used to creep into their bedroom and watch him thrashing about. He was about as limp as you are.'
    Benjamin's eyes widened at the dwarf-woman's crude bluntness. I gestured to him to keep silent. 'Why are you telling us this?' I asked.
    'My loyalty was to the Lord Francesco. He could be a bully and a thug but he was kind to me. My parents were travelling players. When they died of the plague outside Florence, Lord Francesco took me into his household.' 'And the rest of the family?' I asked.
    'The son, Alessandro, is all bombast, but still very dangerous. He has ambitions of making the Albrizzi as great as the Medici in Florence.' 'And Enrico?'
    'A silent one, but still waters run deep. He is not an Albrizzi but a member of the powerful Catalina family. His mother died from the great plague just before Savonarola appeared in Florence. His father and elder brother were mysteriously murdered. Lord Francesco took Enrico into his own house.1
    'And Enrico's marriage to Francesco's daughter Beatrice united their fortunes.* 'Oh, well done, Onion-Eater!' 'And did Enrico welcome the alliance?' 'He does sometimes resent the Albrizzi shadow, but he holds his own. He has won the favour of Giulio de' Medici, Cardinal Prince of Florence.' 'Does he love the Lady Beatrice?' 'He's infatuated. She is as hot as a bitch on heat. I have seen her bedsport. She'd please any man.' 'You seem to see everything,' I murmured. 'There are advantages to being small, Onion-Skinner!' 'And Preneste?' 'Cunning and sly. He has a finger in every man's pie.' 'Which leaves the Lord Roderigo,' Benjamin said.
    'A cruel, ambitious man,' came the reply. 'A bounding ambition with the talent to match. If he had his way, the Medici would be driven out of Florence and the republic restored under Lord Roderigo Albrizzi.'
    We ceased talking as a servant clattered by, her wooden clogs crunching on the gravel path on the other side of the boxwood. 'But why the murder?' I asked.
    'God knows,' Maria replied. 'It could be the work of any or all of them. Handguns – arquebuses of the German sort – were ordered by the Lord Roderigo from gunsmiths in London. Before you ask, Onion-Smeller, yes, one of them could have been used in the destruction of Lord Francesco.' 'But why?' I asked.
    'Oh, Onion-Cruncher. Giovanni is Lord Roderigo's creature. Alessandro? Well, there was bad blood between him and his father. Beatrice resented her father's constant lectures about her morals, but probably cares about nothing as long as she is happy in bed. Preneste will support whoever holds power. Enrico may have found out about his wife!' Maria chuckled. 'But, if you are a gambling man, Shallot, I'd bet that the Lord Roderigo's ambition lies at the