April 2, 1444
Alessandro di Rossi
Alessandro di Rossi
The invitation warned not to arrive early. One would have thought of it as an advisory, surrounded with flowery letters and perfumed paper. But for someone in my profession, one must learn to read between the lines. And what I learned was most intriguing.
I arrived at the Red Lamb Inn just before sundown. The proprietor, Sigismund, was surprised to learn I was a guest of the Lord Claudius Giovanni. He had been told that we would be arriving on the 3rd. Immediately, he set about cleaning the main room and cooking the stew. Though I protested and said it was unnecessary, he continued on.
He showed me to my room when I asked for a place to rest. It was small and spare, but not rundown as the inns I had passed on my way here from the Holy Land. The travel had been long and weary. I decided to take a nap after washing up.
I awoke a few candlemarks later; I hadn't meant to fall asleep so deeply. I suppose the journey was taxing. The sun had completely set and the moon had just risen. Below, I could hear people talking, though their voices were subdued, almost whispering. Dressed in my cassock, I went down to the common room to eat and learn more of my host from the common folk. However, conversation soon died when they realized there was a stranger in their midst.
Smiling as friendly as I could, I sat in a quiet corner and waited for Sigismund to arrive with a bowl of stew. All eyes were on me in those few moments. I think I understood what Moses must have felt when he returned to Egypt. When Sigismund arrived with the food, I began to eat heartily; conversation among the other occupants of the tavern began once again since I seemed no more than a priest.
I say this because I overheard an old man sigh in relief. They all assumed I did not understand Slavic. I did not correct them as this kind of assumption has served me well over the years, especially in my travels. It allows me to know what people truly feel, since they may be intimidated to talk to a man of the Church.
Bits and pieces of conversation drifted from the farmers and shopkeepers. Most were regarding the coming harvest and the safety of roads between here and Wallachia. Tradesmen could not travel south as the war between Christians and Moors had reached Transylvania. Hunyadi's plea of support from the Holy Roman Empire remained unheeded.
I was told the reason why and it makes me ill knowing that this was a political move by the Holy See. Just as my move to Prague came as a result of it; I was tasked to monitor the political situation and ensure that Hunyadi remained pressed for support. As if by divine Providence, I was given that opportunity.
The invitation came a few months ago by messenger. Claudius Giovanni, Earl of Stavlachia, requested my presence for dinner. To what purpose, I did not know. I had the vaguest feeling that he was interested in me as I was in his political leanings. As a native of Italy, I know of the Giovanni and the considerable wealth they have accumulated. Wealth they have used to buy land and acquire titles. I also know of less savory rumors.
Though peasants are prone to exaggerate, I found their stories similar to those told in my native land. Servants from the Giovanni manse are known to become sick with a wasting disease. This is usually evidenced by a deathly pallor due to an imbalance of humors. Most of the prominent members of the family exhibit this. They also share an aversion to sunlight. As a result, they have become more nocturnal.
One would think that this would put a strain in their business dealings and day to day activities. But due to their considerable financial clout, people are more than willing to do business with them regardless if it night or day.
Finishing the stew, I felt I had learned more than enough for the night. The Cardinal may be interested to know of these things, especially the rumors being similar here as they are in Italy. I felt it best to retire to my room and draft a letter to him.
I arrived at the Red Lamb Inn just before sundown. The proprietor, Sigismund, was surprised to learn I was a guest of the Lord Claudius Giovanni. He had been told that we would be arriving on the 3rd. Immediately, he set about cleaning the main room and cooking the stew. Though I protested and said it was unnecessary, he continued on.
He showed me to my room when I asked for a place to rest. It was small and spare, but not rundown as the inns I had passed on my way here from the Holy Land. The travel had been long and weary. I decided to take a nap after washing up.
I awoke a few candlemarks later; I hadn't meant to fall asleep so deeply. I suppose the journey was taxing. The sun had completely set and the moon had just risen. Below, I could hear people talking, though their voices were subdued, almost whispering. Dressed in my cassock, I went down to the common room to eat and learn more of my host from the common folk. However, conversation soon died when they realized there was a stranger in their midst.
Smiling as friendly as I could, I sat in a quiet corner and waited for Sigismund to arrive with a bowl of stew. All eyes were on me in those few moments. I think I understood what Moses must have felt when he returned to Egypt. When Sigismund arrived with the food, I began to eat heartily; conversation among the other occupants of the tavern began once again since I seemed no more than a priest.
I say this because I overheard an old man sigh in relief. They all assumed I did not understand Slavic. I did not correct them as this kind of assumption has served me well over the years, especially in my travels. It allows me to know what people truly feel, since they may be intimidated to talk to a man of the Church.
Bits and pieces of conversation drifted from the farmers and shopkeepers. Most were regarding the coming harvest and the safety of roads between here and Wallachia. Tradesmen could not travel south as the war between Christians and Moors had reached Transylvania. Hunyadi's plea of support from the Holy Roman Empire remained unheeded.
I was told the reason why and it makes me ill knowing that this was a political move by the Holy See. Just as my move to Prague came as a result of it; I was tasked to monitor the political situation and ensure that Hunyadi remained pressed for support. As if by divine Providence, I was given that opportunity.
The invitation came a few months ago by messenger. Claudius Giovanni, Earl of Stavlachia, requested my presence for dinner. To what purpose, I did not know. I had the vaguest feeling that he was interested in me as I was in his political leanings. As a native of Italy, I know of the Giovanni and the considerable wealth they have accumulated. Wealth they have used to buy land and acquire titles. I also know of less savory rumors.
Though peasants are prone to exaggerate, I found their stories similar to those told in my native land. Servants from the Giovanni manse are known to become sick with a wasting disease. This is usually evidenced by a deathly pallor due to an imbalance of humors. Most of the prominent members of the family exhibit this. They also share an aversion to sunlight. As a result, they have become more nocturnal.
One would think that this would put a strain in their business dealings and day to day activities. But due to their considerable financial clout, people are more than willing to do business with them regardless if it night or day.
Finishing the stew, I felt I had learned more than enough for the night. The Cardinal may be interested to know of these things, especially the rumors being similar here as they are in Italy. I felt it best to retire to my room and draft a letter to him.
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