Author's Note:
It flabbergasts me to see how many reviews and bits of positive feedback I've had for this story so thank you so much for letting me know in various ways that you like it. I also have no idea where this story is really going but I know that I am going to keep writing it and enjoying where Lucrezia and Cesare end up, so keep reading so you can see too! PS. I am pretty sure that in the series, Rodrigo calls her "the Arachnid" but the Classics student in me wants it to be "Arachne" because it's a bit cooler and I think there are similarities between Caterina and Lucrezia that ought to be highlighted…just don't bite my head off!
Chapter XII - Arachne
Caterina Sforza leaned back in her chair, gazing at the high ceiling of her great hall in the castle at Forli, utterly unsatisfied with how her campaign against the Spanish Pope was progressing. Rufio was still a profitable commodity but as for the rest of her plays in the game, they were a waste of time, effort and money. She was starting to run out of ideas and people to exploit now that Alfonso d'Aragon was no more, the second sons of the Romagna had defected to the Borgia cause, Lucrezia Borgia had escaped Naples and she held in her hand a report from Rufio that King Frederick was being uncooperative and would probably not be worth cultivating for their cause anymore. The last hand she held was the potential of the Pazzi family of Florence.
When she had played host to Cesare Borgia she had seen how he manipulated and played the game with much more alacrity than his brother did, but she still managed to confound him and his morally bankrupt father. Now, she realised she had only seen a miniscule amount of his adept mind and he was a much more worthy adversary than she originally thought. Though she still had a good chance of thwarting the Borgias, the chances were dwindling and she was losing the fight bit by bit.
"The contingent from the Pazzi family are here, my lady," an usher announced, "shall I send them in?"
With a curt gesture, she gave him permission to bring her newest allies before her and propose their offers and petition for their future rewards. It would all be the same as what the others had demanded but she had to be courteous and hear them out, but if after this day she had to promise the Borgia lands and estates to another treacherous or unworthy ally, then she would concede her cause.
"I am told you bring me joyous news from Florence?"
The elder of the two men in herald's clothes replied, "Yes, milady, Giacomo de' Pazzi sends his greetings and warm wishes. He also entrusted us with this letter to be seen only by your eyes, ma'am."
Caterina had to hand it to him, he knew his place in all this commotion and political conniving, for many messengers she had encountered were dour and surly creatures who seemed to never be truly aware to whom they were passing the documents entrusted to them or the messages they relayed by mouth.
Once she unrolled the sheet, she could do naught but laugh out loud, which she rarely did unless in the face of a Borgia, for it really was most unladylike and unseemly, but the words of the Pazzi were to her as though many Christmases had come at once. Rodrigo Borgia may have ensnared Piero de' Medici and his stooge, Niccolò Machiavelli and had their vast bank to support him, but now Caterina Sforza had the wealth of the Pazzi family, which almost equalled the Medici fortune, behind her. The difference between both Florentine families was slight and whatever could be given her to fund her crusade against the Borgia Pope and his offspring she would be grateful for.
"Please convey my sincere gratitude to your master and assure him that he shall – of course – receive his due regarding his preference of the Borgia estates and he has our backing when we are victorious to usurp the power of the Medici family. We do not forget our friends here in Forli. This is not Rome."
"Indeed, your ladyship," the younger responded with a voice that reminded her of her son, Benito's, "we shall take our leave now."
"You must stay the night. You must be weary from your travels and hungry too. Go to the kitchens, they will feed you a hearty meal for your troubles."
As the men were leaving her presence, she beckoned subtly for the younger to stay a moment longer and he was abandoned by his companion without ado to the Lady of Forli and Imola. Caterina only smiled at him and invited him to sit beside her, in the same seat Cesare Borgia had occupied during his visit to her stronghold.
"What is your name, boy?"
"Lodovico, Countess," he stuttered, his nerves warning him of the lady's amiable advances.
"Well, Lodovico," she said with a seductive smile, leaning across to hold his shuddering hand in her own, "you must tell me about yourself. Where are you from? How old are you? Do you have any family? How did you come to serve Giacomo de' Pazzi?"
"I am seventeen, milady, though I know I look young for my age," Caterina found his blush simply beautiful, "and I was born in Florence in the household of my lord's father. My mother is dead now but she was a chambermaid in the palazzo and she got my place for me. My companion who just left is my mother's younger brother, Giovanni, and he has cared for me ever since she passed away when I was eight years old. He is the only one left of my kin."
Hearing the way this young lad described his life so eloquently for one so young and yet so low of birth (though it had occurred to her that in the service of Ippolito de' Pazzi, the mother could well have borne his bastard) caused the resolute, childless lady's heart to soften towards this Adonis who was so like her boy, whom Cesare Borgia had snatched from her bosom.
"You are well-mannered, young man, you quite remind me of someone I knew once," Caterina said eerily as if lost in a pleasant dream.
"Who?"
She laughed at that. There was the evidence of his upbringing and station, but it was endearing to her, "You are forward, Lodovico, but I shall forgive you. You are very much like my son, Benito, who is dead now, but had he lived beyond sixteen years, he would have liked you, I am sure of it."
"I am honoured your ladyship thinks so."
"Tell me, do you know any songs? For my boy used to sing all day long. He was not much of a soldier, but he had the voice of a cherub."
After a minute's consideration, Lodovico shyly admitted to knowing one song he could sing for the lady who had flattered him and taken an odd interest in him that might please her. He rose from his place and began as his enraptured audience closed her eyes and floated in the heaven his tuneful, boyish voice created in her hall just for her.
"You are talented. You ought to be a musician not a common messenger, my lad. Giacomo misuses you terribly. Tell me one more thing," she began, staring intently at her company, "have you ever been in love, Lodovico?"
"I cannot say that I have, My Lady Sforza."
With a smile that reached the very pupils of her eyes, Caterina stood from her chair and knelt before the boy, whose eyes widened in confusion. She placed her hands deliberately on his lean legs and looked him in the eyes.
"You are sitting in the chair that bore the last man to come to my bed," she said, becoming gleeful as she witnessed how she confounded and beguiled him, "and do you know who that was?"
He shook his head, unsure if he really was supposed to be aware of what man this great lady whose fingers were entrancing him through their stroking of his thighs, had brought to her bed or if she was merely asking in jest to tease and taunt him, for young as he was, as he felt himself harden, he wished he could bed the Bitch of Forli who had shown him nothing but kindness just to tell all those who called her that name that they did not know her. Just because he had never been in love did not mean that he had never fucked a whore against an alley wall…he was Italian after all; she truly couldn't have thought he was a virgin.
"It was my greatest enemy's son, Cesare Borgia. He was quite an animal in the boudoir and he is an animal on the battlefield and in his mind he is as wily as a fox. He was quite the specimen to have betwixt my thighs," she said as she pushed herself against him more, "but I have another desire in me now, caro Lodovico, and I shall get what I want tonight. I would have you make love to me. Do not fuck me, do not prance about and tease me, but show me how someone who has not yet known love would make love to a beautiful woman."
Lodovico could not believe that this noblewoman was inviting him to her bedchamber. He was nothing but a lowly messenger in the house of the second greatest family in Florence and she was the Countess of Forli, who was going to bring the Borgia Pope to his knees before her. She had already had Cesare Borgia but the way she told it, it sounded as though the affair had been quick and physical, but if he could truly make love to this woman, she had it in her power to do much, if not all for him.
He felt brave in the wake of her words and he drew her up higher so that he could kiss her chastely on the mouth and suck longingly at her smooth lips.
An hour later, they both were covered in sweaty sheets and naked from their lovemaking and it had been as tender as Caterina had hoped it would be. He was certainly the one to fulfil her plan and he was quite the lover, though it was plain to her that he had been accustomed to fucking his partners and achieving his own pleasure with no regard for theirs, but she was immensely satisfied with his ministrations and if he rose to the task as he had tonight for the next week or so, then she would surely have exactly what she wanted from him.
"Are you content, My Lady Sforza?" Lodovico asked breathlessly.
She nodded. If she could not speak with all her authority, then she simply would not utter a word to this pageboy who – truth be told – had found his place in her heart but was still beneath her regardless of his recent performances."
As he stood to cleanse himself, he heard Caterina sit up, pulling the sheets with her to ask, "Do you know who Arachne is, Lodovico?"
It was cruel of her to wave his lack of education and commonness in his face after sex but he shook his head, though he understood the name to be Greek and thus, she was probably some heroine in a Greek myth or something similar.
"Well, I'll ask you this then," she said unashamed, "do you know what the Pope and his son call me when they believe they are beyond my spies?"
This game was wearisome to Lodovico, for yet again, he could only shake his head in response, for he knew that her nickname in the Vatican was the Bitch of Forli, but everyone knew that, so it could not be what she was referring to now.
"Well, the Pope in all his holiness and sanctity calls me the Arachne of Forli. Ovid, the Latin poet wrote of her bravery in defying the goddess, Pallas Minerva, who was the goddess of weaving. Arachne, a mortal princess, challenged the goddess to a weaving contest and instead of choosing the triumphs and benevolences of the divine beings of Olympus, she chose to show the goddess in her own art all the infidelities, the licentiousness and transgressions of the gods."
The listener was just about shrewd enough to understand where his great lady was going with her story. He saw that Caterina was glad she was the Pope of Rome's Arachne, for then he was the great goddess of weaving to her and she would display for the entire world to see and scorn his betrayals to the Holy See and Italy. He wanted, however, to learn of the story's end…
Caterina continued her tale, "Arachne's tapestry when it was complete was so beautiful and incomparable to Minerva's portrayal of her single offering to Athens, her city, that the goddess was enraged and cursed the princess for humiliating her and outshining her at her own craft to spend the rest of her days as a spider weaving webs that no human would ever appreciate her work again."
"Why do you wish to be compared with this princess then, Lady Caterina," he asked, "for it seems that she was ultimately defeated by her rival?"
She smiled, quietly confident, "Indeed she was, but I have learnt my lesson from her. She challenged the goddess alone, whereas I have friends and those who would challenge again should I fall, but fall I will not."
