A Brood of Vipers

marzipan, sugared almonds, pine seeds and pots of sweetmeats. Naturally, we scuttled away to sit by ourselves on a small garden seat. Everyone else ignored us. We watched the cardinal intently.
    'He claimed he was just passing,' a merry voice piped up behind us. 'Oh, don't turn round!' The lady of the boxwood had returned.
    'Must you always hide in bushes?' I snarled. 'For God's sake, come out!' 'Sod off, Crosspatch!'
    'Roger is right,' Benjamin said quietly. 'Too much subterfuge, and suspicions will be aroused.'
    We heard a scuffling in the bushes. I thought the little minx had fled but she suddenly appeared before us, dipping her fingers into my bowl of fruit. She stood in her purple, gold-fringed little dress staring up at us, her head cocked to one side like a merry sparrow.
    'The cardinal claims he was just passing,' she repeated. 'For in Florence you only call in on your friends.' 'So, Lord Roderigo is the cardinal's enemy?' I asked. Maria bubbled with laughter and licked her fingers. 'Watch him, Crosspatch.'
    I stared across the lighted garden and noticed how the cardinal refused to eat or drink anything until the blackamoor had tasted it.
    'Well,' Maria jibed. 'What do you think, Crosspatch?' Her grin widened. 'Dinner parties in Florence are very dangerous occasions.'
    'Who is the Lord Giulio?' I asked. 'I mean, what are his origins?'
    Maria paused to clear her mouth. 'He's the bastard son of Lorenzo the Magnificent's brother. One day Lorenzo and his brother were attending Mass in the cathedral when assassins struck. Lorenzo escaped with a neck wound, but his brother was killed. Lorenzo later discovered that his dead brother had sired a bastard child.' Maria's voice fell to a whisper. That bastard child is now a Cardinal Prince of the Church and ruler of Florence. He trusts no one! Not a crumb, not a drop of wine passes his lips which has not been tasted by others.' 'And who's the monk with him?' Benjamin asked. Maria popped a sugared almond into her mouth. 'If I told you that,' she muttered, 'they'd know I'd been talking to you about more than the weather or the customs of Florence.'
    And, spinning on her heel, the Lady of the Boxwood trotted away.
    Benjamin and I shrank deeper into our flowered portico. Maria's words had slightly upset my digestion.
    'You think it's safe, Master?' I murmured, pointing to the food.
    'Oh, yes,' Benjamin replied. 'Why do you think we eat like this, Roger?' His face creased into a smile. 'No one knows which piece of meat you are going to pick up and you watch as they pour the wine.'
    Benjamin paused as musicians at the far corner of the garden, hidden by a privet hedge, struck up a lilting romantic tune which tugged at the heart-strings and provoked whispering dreams.
    'Paradise,' Benjamin whispered. 'Yet there are more demons here than angels. What do we have so far, eh, Roger? A man shot in a London street. Another killed on board ship and sent into a watery grave by an assassin who resents our interference.' He swilled the wine round in his cup and stared around at the brilliantly dressed members of the household. 'They all have cause for murder. It's time we closed with them. If the Lord Roderigo wants the truth, then we will have to stand on people's toes.'
    I was about to reply when the cardinal suddenly broke off chatting to the Lady Bianca. He placed his wine cup on a small garden table and swept across to meet us. His two strange companions flitted, shadow-like, behind him. Benjamin and I shoved our plates aside. 'Kneel!' my master hissed. We did so. I smelt fragrant perfume and saw the fringe of a purple robe above the cream, gold-edged boots of the cardinal. 'No, no, rise.' The voice was soft, the English perfect. Benjamin and I clambered to our feet.
    The cardinal extended one long, cool hand. First my master, then I, kissed his ring. Close to, the cardinal looked more friendly, less haughty.
    'Signors, welcome to Florence.' He studied Benjamin carefully. 'You are the Lord Cardinal Wolsey's nephew. I see the likeness.'
    (I never did but, there again, I tried not to see Wolsey in anything, unless I had to!)
    He asked questions about our journey and drew closer, still smiling.
    'Do not change the expressions on your faces,' he whispered. He glanced sideways at me. 'Keep that ingratiating smile upon you. We are in the presence of assassins. The Lord Francesco was my friend. I regret that I cannot bestow such a title on the Lord Roderigo, his brother. Have you any idea