They lived in different rooms, but they invariably spent their nights together. However, in the morning, before the arrival of the maid, Lucretia always returned to her bedroom, where Mario's small bed stood next to her bed.The kid was taught to call his father uncle. Stefano did not imagine how painful it would be for him to hear such an appeal. But he could not change anything and was glad at least that both - both Lucretia and Mario - were nearby.The son grew by leaps and bounds. By the age of six, to the great surprise of his father, he showed artistic abilities and an interest in painting. The boy sat at the table for hours, painting landscapes, portraits and still lifes.Stephanio was puzzled. He perfectly remembered how, a hundred years ago, his little son François was addicted to the same thing."What is this, a coincidence? Or is there something in my nature that gives my children a love of painting? What a strange joke of nature."He hired teachers, including an artist, an
As soon as he got out of the Old Oak, Stephanio jumped on his horse and galloped towards him. With every moment it became more and more difficult to stay in the saddle, the street blurred before his eyes, passers-by seemed to increase in size, and only by a huge effort of will he reached the inn, ran up to the second floor and locked himself in his room.Quiet joy seized him, he fell on the bed and began to look at the beams of the ceiling, feeling how he was filled with inexplicable bliss. Here the walls shook slightly, someone walked around the room, again and again, but this did not frighten him. On the contrary, he loved these incomprehensible creatures, loved everything that was around, he wanted to go downstairs and kiss the owner, go out into the street and hug everyone he met. Peace and happiness filled the soul, overflowing.And yet his mind was clear enough to understand: all this is just a consequence of the drunk elixir. You can’t run anywhere, you just need to lie down an
The new Pope was much younger than his predecessor and led a much more open lifestyle. He gave receptions and large audiences, so Stefano often saw him. The pontiff was a tall, dark-haired man with regular features, a mustache and a small graying beard. He carried himself with exceptional dignity and elegance, knew theology perfectly, could speak long and beautifully on theological topics, and even wrote poetry.More than once, looking at him, Stephanio thought:"How easy it is to touch this person and become the Pope yourself. He is quite young, active, I would be comfortable in his body. But how interesting is it to get everything ready without going your way to the top?"But one day a simple thought interrupted all thoughts on this topic: having moved to the Pope, he would lose Lucrezia and Mario. "No, that's completely impossible. I have to get the power myself."Stephanio went to all the open receptions that the Pope gave, kept close to him and tried in every possible way to attr
Andrea Calvo did not even want to think that Nagyo would become Bishop of Trevia. On the contrary, he decided to apply for this place himself and turned to the Vincini family for support. Those, mindful of the future relationship, promised to help.Very soon, Stefano became aware that a wealthy banking family was busy with the bishopric, which he considered almost his own. He made inquiries and quickly learned that Andrea Calvo, his old enemy, was behind it."Hasn't he calmed down? No, it can't be a coincidence. Of course, he knew that I was aiming for this place, and decided to get ahead of me. Well, we'll see."Despite the fact that Stefano had good patrons - several cardinals and Francesco d'Este, who had recently become the Duke of Modena and Reggio, promised him support - he was well aware that it would be difficult to cope with such a family as Vincini.At the next meeting with Roberto, who was late in Rome on business of the bishopric, Stephanio asked if he had met with Calvo.
Returning home, Andrea was horrified by what he had done. The blind fury that had seized him after the appointment of Nagio as bishop and the annulment of the marriage of Camillo with the girl Vincini had passed, and now he was at a loss. It seems that his mind really got confused, since he decided on such a thing. A priest who kills a woman right on the street, where someone could see him... What if he had been caught there? It's scary to think. And what a sin! It's one thing petty mischief, and quite another - murder.Andrea was not sure that he had gone unnoticed, and therefore he suspected that Nagyo might find out who was responsible for his grief. And I decided to make sure.A few days later, having buried love, Stefano sat by the fireplace and stared blankly at the fire. An almost forgotten bitter smile froze on his face. Someone knocked on the door, the maid ran to open it, but he did not hear it: all his thoughts were about Lucretia."Hello," came a harsh voice.Stephanio rai
The head of the Jesuits, Father Muzio Vitaleschi, decided that the order did not have sufficient influence on the Inquisition, and for this purpose, with the consent of the Pope, transferred many brothers from their positions to the tribunals. In one of them, Rimsky, Andrea Calvo was appointed.Although Andrea's career at the university was going well, and he was already a professor, the new position caused him jubilation. Belonging to the Inquisition made him almost omnipotent. Now he will figure out how to take revenge on the hated Nagyo!Calvo began serving in the tribunal, and two years later he managed to rise to the rank of assistant to the head, not least thanks to the influence of General Vitaleschi.What do you say, Guido? Lorenzo Vincini asked his brother.“I don’t even know,” he muttered thoughtfully, still holding the letter in his hands. Who is this Mario Ricci? Artist? Ugh, it's disgusting to even say. On the other side...Guido was seated in a massive armchair by the ta
During his next visit to Rome, Stefanio unexpectedly met Roberto Bantini at the Quirinal Palace.“Owl,” Stephanio rushed to him and then noticed that the old friend was dressed in cardinal clothes. The Bishop stood up in amazement, as if rooted to the spot.“Yes, yes,” Roberto smiled, “now I am a cardinal and I live here in Rome.“Congratulations,” Stephanio said sincerely. Of course, he felt a little annoyed that Bantini was ahead of him, but in fact he was glad for his friend. It's strange that I haven't heard about it.- Really weird. Where you stopped?- Cardinal Dethy's.Why not Mario? I heard he got married...“I don’t want to disturb the young ones,” Stephanio laughed.- Well, next time I ask you to me.- Well, since you are in Rome now, then, of course, I will not pass by.***“My dear Andrea, the unfortunate brother Siro writes to you. I still live in Mantua with a few servants, and my position is unenviable. However, I took up the pen not to upset you with the details of my
Dr. Gold sighed raggedly, his lips trembling.“Wait a second, John, now I’ll catch my breath and continue. I'm sorry, it's hard to remember.“Of course I understand,” the vicar nodded hastily.Ten minutes passed before Gold spoke again:- At first I was going to call on Roberto Bantini to inform him of what had happened and change clothes. But when Algardi told the details of the case, I decided not to waste time and immediately went to the inquisitorial tribunal.However, the gatherings refused to let me in: by the evening, if there were no urgent interrogations, the priests and secretaries dispersed. I tried to convince them, explained that I was the Bishop of Trevi and I needed to see a prisoner on urgent business, but they only laughed, because I was in secular clothes.Desperate, I was about to go to Bantini's to change into a cassock and return again, but at that moment the heavy sashes of the window above our heads parted and a voice was heard from above:- Let him go.The guar
Michael Gold paused, trying to catch his breath. He seemed to be reliving the terror that had seized him in the mountains of South America.“And Plath is gone?” exclaimed the vicar ruefully.Alas, John, yes. A strange insanity has deprived me of this most valuable relic!- What a pity! What do you think it was?“I have puzzled over this for three hundred years, explaining everything as the revenge of higher powers. It was only three years ago that I read an article in The Sunday Times that I think explains the panic attack that happened to me then. The article said that a certain John Balderston, director of the London Lyric Theater, was preparing a play for staging, where the characters were transported into the past as the action progressed. He wanted to come up with something spectacular so that the audience at that moment felt the psychological tension. And Mr. Balderston turned to his friend, the physicist Robert Wood, for help. He made a pipe, like an organ, but longer and thick
Gold wearily rubbed his face with his hands.“Those days are hard for me to remember, John. Then I committed one of the most shameful acts of my entire life. But I swear I'll be completely honest about everything.'I have no doubt, my friend,' nodded the vicar. - Few people could speak so frankly about themselves, not only good, but also bad.— So, we got into a small pirogue and sailed up the river. Usually, for the construction of boats, the Indians took a tree with a wide trunk and burned out the middle. But this boat turned out to be wicker and very light. The current here was weak, so Anka and Yakumama rowed tirelessly.About five hours later we landed on the shore, and I saw a path cut through the jungle, as wide as I had ever seen in these places. It turned out that the Indians dragged boats along it to another river, which they called the Serpent, and the Europeans - Madre de Dios. Even such a light pirogue as ours was not easy to drag, but we managed and by the evening reache
On one of the days of the Month of Seva, Apu Uma sent for Istvan. He hurried to the leader and found him in great agitation. Forgetting to offer mate to the guest, the Indian said:“Our scouts have spotted a white party, Amauta. They go through the jungle towards Antavara.The priest's heart jumped with joy, but at the same moment he thought - if the Europeans capture the village, they will also learn about the mines. No, this cannot be allowed.- How is it - "go"? After all, the selva is impassable.- How do we go? Cut through the road with knives and axes.— How many of them?The chief frowned and drew seven parallel lines on the dirt floor. Thirty-five people, Isstvan realized."And when will they get to us?"- In two or three days. We need to organize protection.“No,” the priest said thoughtfully. “We have to set up an ambush. Then, firstly, they will not find the village, and secondly, thanks to a surprise attack, we will have an advantage.After thinking for a moment, Apu Uma n
The Indians made a noise, and Istvan could not believe his ears. What nonsense? This is impossible! But no, he saw the living dead with his own eyes!"But the corpses didn't disappear until the third night," he muttered.The sorcerer chuckled and nodded again.— Yes, but here they bury in the wall. Apparently, in the ground they deteriorate faster. At first I did not know this and could not understand why they did not turn into nzambi. The first two had to be killed, their minds barely affected. Then I realized that here the body was lying in the wall and tried to pick it up later. This is how I determined from experience that it is best to raise the "dead" on the third night.- Can they be cured somehow? Return to normal life?- Of course not.How long do they exist in this state?- Who is like. If you feed them on time, then some of them last for four or five years.“Now tell me, why can’t they be killed?”- Why, maybe. They just don't feel pain and follow orders as long as they can
The Incas got up early. Not finding Istvan, they were alarmed. When he, half-dead from fatigue and experienced horror, dragged himself to the gate, he was greeted with a joyful uproar. Sampa Anka grabbed him under the armpits and helped him to the hut.“What happened to you, white brother? he kept asking. - Where have you been?"I'm sorry, Anka," Isstvan whispered, sinking onto the couch. “I’ll tell you everything, but right now I don’t have the strength.”He slept for almost a day and woke up cheerful, completely recovered from the shock of the night. Hardly waiting for the morning, Istvan went to Apu Uma and told about everything that he had to endure.Sampa Anka, who sat silently beside him, stared in horror at the priest, while the chief shook his head grimly.“You broke my ban, Amauta,” he said when Istvan finished his story.“Sorry, Great Leader, but I couldn’t help but watch your people die.“I understand that you were guided by a kind and brave heart. But what have you achieve
The next morning, having somewhat calmed down, they again retired to the hut.- Understand, spirits are not like that at all! Istvan admonished his friend. “They were real flesh and blood people. There must be some other explanation.“Okay,” he nodded obediently, “then explain to me what the secret is.”“That is what we must find out. Tell everything you know about them.Sampa Anka shrugged.- There is nothing to tell. Ordinary guys.What could unite them?- Nothing. Only that they all died.- When exactly?The young man frowned as he remembered.“Well… Vira eight moons ago. Llapi four moons earlier. The other two, it seems, shortly before your arrival.This information did not give Isstvan anything, but he stubbornly bombarded Anka with questions, trying to find at least some thread.Did any of them get sick?- It seems not.- So all four died according to the prediction of the sorcerer?After thinking, Sampa Anka nodded confidently."And their bodies disappeared on the third night?"
Returning to his room, Istvan was lost in thought. Let's say the evil Aya Naya really kills the Indians, but how and why? However, the methods may be different, for example, to send damage. For what purpose does he do this? And, most importantly, why do corpses disappear? Perhaps the spirit of the deceased raises his body and takes him somewhere? No, what nonsense!Isstvan's mind was in confusion. But he was a man of action, and therefore he soon questioned the leader and his son about all the details. It turned out that the bodies disappear on the third night after the funeral.When an old man died two weeks later at the other end of the village, Istvan decided to follow his grave.“This is unreasonable, brother,” Apu Uma admonished him, “and very dangerous. Only Viracocha knows what happens when the body disappears. Suddenly all living things around perish?“Believe me, Great Leader, I will find out the truth,” Isstvan replied grimly. “I don’t want an incomprehensible curse weighing
Listening to the leader, Istvan could not recover from amazement. So the Templars were in the West Indies long before Señor Columbus?“The Order was rich,” he reflected, “and could well equip an expedition to search for new lands. The Templars sailed here and found huge reserves of silver and gold. So that's where the legends about the untold wealth of the order came from! Some came to rule the Incas, others left, taking away priceless treasures on ships. And then what? They returned forever ... Probably, it was under Philip the Handsome, who banned the order and arrested everyone he could find. But many Templars escaped and lived here until their deaths. Why didn't they leave offspring? Posing as gods? Of course, they were monks! They could not have intercourse with women and remained faithful to their vow even in such conditions. How many times have I broken my vow of chastity? Eh..."This discovery shocked Istvan. All his knowledge of the history of the conquest of the West Indies
Religion occupied a huge place in the life of the tribe. Everywhere in the village and beyond there were so-called waki - sacred things and places. Uakoy could be anything - a bunch of stones stacked in a special way, a rock, a hill, a stream, a spring, an idol carved from wood, like standing on a kurikancha. The Indians carefully looked after all the Huacas. A special place of worship was Nayakuna Pirka - a long stone wall built to the east of the village, which consisted of separate cavities. In them, the inhabitants of the village buried the dead, closing each niche with a wooden door.As Istvan mastered Quechua, he learned more and more about the views of the Indians.“There are three worlds around us,” said Sampa Anka, “underground, earthly and divine. The underworld, Uku Pacha, is ruled by the ferocious god of death, Supai. All dead, unborn babies, some snakes, worms and seeds live there. In the earthly world, Kai Pacha, we are people, but also animals, birds, plants and ghosts.