The Man Who Seduced The Mona Lisa

After a few days, having finalized the last details, as planned, the tireless papal trustee left for Naples.

To accompany him on his secret mission was the brave Pietro , who had now fully recovered and was impatient to see the Neapolitan city that his father had spoken about so much when he was a child.

For Tristano, however, it was not the first time and following the usual impertinent insistence of his footman began to tell what happened to him almost three years before:

“I was as excited and curious as you are now. To think that I knew Naples only from an old Benedictine map my late grandfather had showed me to indicate the court my mother had served at when she was young. I joined Fra Roberto, my teacher and guide, who was well known at the time as Fra Roberto Caracciolo da Lecce, in the wonderful royal chapel of Naples and together we rushed to warn King Ferdinando d’Aragona of the imminent danger from the Turks on the eastern coast.

Shortly before a heartfelt letter from the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller had, in fact, informed the pontiff of the attempts of the Republic of Venice to impel the Ottoman Empire to mount an expedition against the Italian peninsula and specifically the Kingdom of Naples. This obviously raised unspeakable concerns not only for the Aragonese, but for the whole of Christianity.

However, Ferrante (the name his subjects gave to King Ferdinando), not only remained deaf to the warnings about the Turks but shortly thereafter, irresponsibly, instead, ordered the removal of 200 infantrymen from Otranto to use against Florence.

Thus, the grand vizier Gedik Ahmet Pascià, after a failed attempt at snatching Rhodes from the Knights of San Giovanni, landed undisturbed on the Brindisi coast with his fleet, where he turned his attention to the city of Otranto. Immediately he sent his legate to those white walls, guaranteeing that he would save the lives of the inhabitants of Otranto in exchange for their immediate and unconditional surrender. The latter, however, not only refused the conditions of the Turkish messenger but unfortunately killed him, sparking the foreseeable wrath of the fierce Ahmet Pascià.

During the summer the Turks burst into the city like bloodthirsty beasts and in a few minutes they overwhelmed all who opposed them.

The cathedral was the ultimate refuge for women, children, the elderly, the disabled, terrified inhabitants, the last bastion where they could barricade themselves when all other defenses had already fallen: the men reinforced the gates, the women with their little ones in their arms, lined up along the cosmogonic tree of life, the religious offered the last holy Eucharist… and like the first Christians they raised a sad liturgical song to God awaiting martyrdom; the cavalry broke through the door, the demons rushed in, raged over the crowd without distinction; in vain the archbishop ordered the infidels to stop but unheeding he himself was wounded and beheaded together with his own; neither women nor children were spared from their blind and murderous fury. Noblewomen were plundered and rendered naked, the youngest were raped repeatedly in the presence of their fathers and husbands held by the neck, their honor and spirit murdered before their body. The most cruel and heinous violence spread from the cathedral to the entire city. At first 800 men managed to escape to a hill but, also blocked by the Janissaries of the barbarian chief, they were passed one by one under the blade of a scimitar. The population was exterminated abominably. At day's end, the five thousand inhabitants were reduced to only a few dozen living, saved in exchange for their conversion to the Koran and the resounding payment of three hundred golden ducats.

Only when this wretched news reached court, did Ferrante understand the enormous sin he had committed of undervaluation and then he decided to entrust reconquest of those lands to his son Alfonso.

Paternally, the Holy Father wrote to all the lords of Italy, asking them to set aside their internal rivalries and to face the Ottoman threat together and, in exchange, granted plenary indulgence to the members of the newly formed Christian League. Given the seriousness and how critical the situation was, the Curia allocated 100,000 ducats for the construction of a fleet of 25 galleys and the equipping of 4,000 infantrymen.

In addition to the king of Naples, the appeal of Sixtus IV was answered by the king of Hungary, the Dukes of Milan and Ferrara, the Republics of Geneva and Florence. As expected, instead, no support came from Venice, which had signed a peace treaty with the Turks only the previous year and could not afford to block trade routes with the East again.

Despite the late but impressive Christian mobilization, the Ottomans, not only managed to hold the Land of Otranto and part of the Land of Bari and Basilicata firmly in their hands, they were ready to direct their army to the north on the Capitanata and to the west on Naples.

It was only thanks to our diplomacy that we managed to intercept a message from Muhammad II in Anatolia; which was then suitably modified and packaged and delivered to Ahmet Pascià with one of our spies. The Turkish captain swallowed the bait: he left Otranto temporarily with two-thirds of his men to embark for Valona; during the crossing he was surrounded by the ships that had been prepared by the Christian League and finally, after months of conquests and victories, suffered a devastating defeat, so heavy, so much so that he was forced to flee to Albania in a small boat.

The news of the naval victory and even more so of the fearful escape of the barbarian chief raised the morale of the Neapolitans and their allies… Duke Alfonso managed to reorganize a discreet army of mercenaries finally also supported operationally by the other Catholic nobles, who then perceived the possibility of winning back Otranto and Puglia. Spain sent 20 ships and Hungary 500 choice soldiers.

It was one of the most impressive naval sieges recalled by history: the colossal siege of Otranto.”

Meanwhile the horses were starting to become tired and needed clean water. Tristano then looked around and suspended his epic narrative.

Pietro was, as always, bewitched and dumbfounded, pensive, in the same way as children who have heard the Homeric or Virgilian poems told for the first time.

“And then? What happened? How did it end, sir?”

“Well, the rest is fairly recent: after the death of Muhammad II, the new sultan actually forbade Ahmet Pascià from returning to Italy. At the end of last summer, exhausted by hunger, thirst and the plague, the Ottomans surrendered and the Aragonese finally regained control of the city. According to some, the infamous Turkish leader is in prison or was even executed by his own men at Edirne. “O quam cito transit gloria mundi”, concluded Tristano.

“What, Excellence?”

“Nothing Pietro, nothing. Let's hurry up now. The generous and abundant breasts of the Parthenope siren await us… “

And spurring his steed forward, he quickened his pace, dragging an even more confused Pietro behind him.

VII

Don Ferrante and the reason for Naples

The ambush and the maid

After a couple of days they came to a sunny and busy capital, in the midst of a colorful market, anything could make one leap to the wildest fantasy: from fruit to furniture, from fish to hemp ropes, from music to sculptures, from sweets to livestock, from relics to prostitutes.

“Anyone who goes on a trip to Naples must prepare to get to know at least three divinities: pasta, mozza and struffoli”, said Tristano amusedly to his companion.

“I hope I get to know them all soon, sir”, replied Pietro.

They left the horses in a small, narrow stable and proceeded on foot through the lanes and alleys that divided the confusing exhibition district.

Soon, however, the two strangers realized they were being followed. So they tried to blend into the crowd, between the tents of the stalls, making their way through the intrusive merchants, but that ugly face seemed to know that environment better than anyone else and he certainly had no problem in maintaining his sinister close stalking. Pietro then decided to face him; he signaled to Tristano to turn through a narrow secondary alley and, as soon as the man emerged from the corner, he pulled his sword out to the side, trying to dissuade the pursuer.

To these were added immediately two others, moreover well equipped.

Threatening mockingly, they began to approach, lowering and coiling like loins on their prey. After a circling around, the scuffle began: the one with the dark feathered cap parried Pietro’s double attack, from right and from above, suddenly slashing at the height of his waist making the latter leap backwards. The other, wearing a more lively doublet, had a showy octagonal pomolo, a wide-bladed sword set with precious lapis lazuli; turned and raised his sword to heaven, inviting Tristano to do the same; he then charged the blow on the cinquedea, a short-bladed sword of the young pontiff, promptly blocked the blow, countering with the long iron and with a kick to the opponent's thigh. Meanwhile, the third, with the striped codpiece, pulled out a rapier and rushed to assist the first, alternating with this against the Bolognese swordsman; he sliced down the length of a man’s body, which was blocked by Di Giovanni who raised his arm and turned his sword upside down; then he scored a wide arc in the air and responded to the blow, forcing the opponent to change guard.

As the air heated with the sparks from the blades and the clashing of the blows on the helmets, they unwittingly went into the semi-dark alleys of the old city.

Pietro then made a wise backtrack and a small step forward accompanied by a threatening lunge; then after another hesitation he launched into the attack: he drew his sword very quickly from the bottom upwards and with a masterful twist of his wrist he sliced from right to left forcing the thug to open his arm leaving his body exposed; then he locked the blade with the buckler, and relentlessly struck the weapon in his chest.

On the other front, Tristano was in serious difficulty, as he struggled with a well-trained opponent, he quickly advanced with his left knee, hit to the right and vice versa, to simulate circling with his body, to enable a change in rhythm and guard, he sought any hesitation in the wavering defense of the diplomat. Pietro tried for a moment to help him and would have been able to if he hadn't had a hard bone to pick.

Suddenly from overhead, two huge white sheets that had been patched and weighted on the sides fell over the heads of the two Neapolitans, who became temporarily entangled. A whistle from a street urchin providentially showed Tristano and his assistant an escape route, and when the thugs were able to resume their pursuit, a door into a hypogean cellar had already swallowed up the two strangers, keeping them safe for a while.

Having escaped the danger, the latter were finally able to return to the alley that in the meantime had revived with a few poor folk, but they were unable to see or thank those little street urchins to whom they probably owed their lives; incredibly they had disappeared, as had the good Pietro's money bag!

In short, after spontaneous and dutiful curses, the two had a great laugh and in mid afternoon they reached Castel Nuovo.

There the elderly sovereign immediately welcomed them with finest tributes and considerations who, although at odds with the Pope, retained a particular sense of gratitude towards Tristano and a respect that went beyond their respective public roles: he probably saw in him his friend Latino.

Indeed, it was Cardinal Orsini, then apostolic legated a latere, who, bearing the bull of investiture granted by Pope Pius II and assisted by Cardinal Trevisan, by the archbishop of Nazareth in Barletta, Giacomo de Aurilia, by the archbishop of Taranto and by other numerous prelates, on February 4 AD 1459, during a sumptuous ceremony in the square in front of the castle of Barletta, crowned Ferdinando I of Naples blessing him with the triple title of king of Sicily, Jerusalem and Hungary. Latino had noted the episode and the events of the following days of the coronation on that diary page that had been strangely torn and had disappeared mysteriously from the cardinal's personal archive.

Don Ferrante and Don Tristano were closed in conclave for over two hours.

Before their departure, the pontifical official personally took care of removing the main diplomatic obstruction hindering any relationship between the Holy See and the Neapolitan court: he ensured that the royal secretariat became aware of a few secret missives, obviously false, that the Venetian ambassador to Naples had sent to his doge. In such dispatches the Neapolitan ruler was described as inept, vain, and a libertine. The reaction was immediate.

Thanks to the consequent repatriation of the man from Serenissima and the king's personal esteem, the interview was extremely cordial and, in the end, although Don Ferrante had not come to any decision, it seemed to Tristano that the sovereign was well disposed to considering the reasons set out and to analyze the scenario that had been proposed to him.

And in fact, he was right: two days later he recalled the young pupil of the defunct Cardinal Orsini and verbally informed him that the Kingdom of Naples would take part in the new alliance against Venice. The command would be entrusted to his son Alfonso, the Duke of Calabria, who would also take on the role of captain of the league. The agreement was later formalized and made official on Christmas day.

Tristano was extremely satisfied.

After a rich dinner based on Christmas pastries and sweets, certainly not disdained by the barons and the most courteous representatives of the Neapolitan nobility, the young man decided to retire to his apartment perhaps to try to relax by soaking in a warm tub the His Majesty had generously requested to be prepared.

The elderly woman, who had so thoughtfully set up the bathroom for him, while arranging the last linens in a closet, stared at him persistently. But the numb official paid no mind to her, as he was immersed in his thoughts and unsolved questions at least as far as he was in that steaming tub.

“You have the same eyes. Your mother was a saintly woman,” said the woman before disappearing behind the door of the room.

The one who had been caught dreaming spun around. Those words brought him back to reality like the tone of a bell.