A Brood of Vipers

His beloved sister, I suspected, must have told him about our conversation the previous evening. 'You slept well, Inglese?' Roderigo asked.
    'A most comfortable bed,' Benjamin replied tactfully. 'But scarcely the best introduction to Florence. Poor Preneste's room…?' 'Gutted,' Roderigo replied. 'We are fortunate the fire did not spread. If it had, we might have lost the entire villa.' 'And the cause?' Benjamin queried. Lord Roderigo's eyes slid away. He leaned over and snatched a carafe of watered wine, slopping it into his cup. 'Probably a lazy servant. Perhaps the men who took Preneste's corpse up left a candle burning too near the bed drapes?'
    'Did you know the villa is being watched?' Benjamin abruptly asked. I was pleased to see Alessandro almost choke on his apple.
    'What?' Lord Roderigo took the goblet from his lips. 'What do you mean?'
    Benjamin described what we had seen in the garden after the fire. Roderigo listened intently and spread his hands.
    'The Master of the Eight has his spies everywhere,' he said bitterly.
    Turning to Alessandro, he spoke quickly in Italian. The young man paled. He answered evasively and the hauteur drained from his face.
    'What is the matter?' Benjamin asked sharply. 'Lord Roderigo, I do not wish to be obtrusive, but we are guests in your house and we, too, may be in danger. Why should Florence's secret police be watching this villa?'
    'Because,' Roderigo replied slowly, 'there are some in this family who cannot be trusted. They have shown what I can only term an undue interest in the new learning from Germany – Master Luther has made his presence felt even here. The Eight, and the Inquisition, are busily ferreting out any who have leanings in that direction?'
    Alessandro's pallor face assured me that Roderigo was talking about him.
    'But you can ask His Eminence the same question,' Roderigo declared, smiling at Benjamin. 'A messenger came from the Medici Palace. His Grace the Cardinal would like to meet you there at noon. Giovanni will take you.'
    'Can I come?' a voice piped up from the doorway. Maria appeared, looking even more doll-like in a ruby-coloured dress decorated at the hem and cuff with white linen and with her auburn tresses down. 'Can I come?' she repeated.
    Suddenly three or four oranges appeared in her hand. She began to juggle with these as she walked towards us. I admired her skill, the deft quickness of her hands. She put the oranges on the floor and gracefully cartwheeled towards us. I caught a flurry of white petticoats, glimpsed little black shoes with rose buttons, then she was before me, slightly red-faced and tight-lipped, breathing through her nose to maintain her poise. 'Good morning, Crosspatch,' she said, smiling.
    'There's little amusement here,' Alessandro said tartly. 'None of your tricks, Maria. Master Preneste is dead.' He looked darkly at me. 'And I don't care what uncle says, the fire that gutted his room is suspicious.'
    'Master Preneste,' Maria replied, 'was a stupid, dirty man who dabbled in the shadows and got his just desserts.' 'Maria!' Roderigo exclaimed.
    She shrugged her dainty shoulders and clambered on to the bench, squeezing her little body between me and Benjamin.
    'Can I go into Florence? If I am not needed here,' – she glared spitefully at Alessandro – 'then perhaps it's best if I am gone.' 'Half-woman!' Alessandro replied maliciously. 'Better that than no man!' she replied.
    Alessandro leaned across the table, hand raised to smack her. I caught his wrist and held it tightly.
    (Yes, yes, I am a coward born and bred. I always wear brown hose and, when a fight starts, old Shallot is on his hands and knees crawling for the nearest door, but I can't stand bullies!) 'Let go of my wrist!'
    Alessandro's face looked so petulant that I laughed. Before Roderigo could intervene, Alessandro brought his other hand up and slapped me across the face. I let go of his wrist.
    'Apologize! Alessandro, apologize!' Roderigo demanded. 'Apologize now!' Alessandro bit the quick of his thumb and spat towards me.
    (I later learnt this was the most offensive insult any Italian could bestow. I told Will Shakespeare about it and he used it at the beginning of his play Romeo and Juliet. It started a duel then and it did the same at the Villa Albrizzi.) Lord Roderigo grasped my arm.
    'Signor Shallot, Alessandro is hot-headed. Moreover, you are only a servant. There is no need to accept his challenge.' Benjamin murmured his agreement.
    'I agree,' I