Free The Palace by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page B

it is
typical of these people." He was silent, and when he spoke again, it was on
another subject. "The wagons have arrived. I told them to wait in the stables."
    "Very good." They were descending the grand staircase now, and Ruggiero
looked carefully about. "The largest of the boxes should go into the second
hidden room. The others can wait for my master to dispose of as he wishes."
    The tall alchemist walked on without speaking, but as he and Ruggiero crossed
the courtyard, he said, "I have studied the Great Work all my life, but never
have I known of another artifex who slept with his mattress on raw earth, or
lined his shoes with earth, or who mixed earth with the substance of his house.
Where is the merit in that?"
    Ruggiero was unperturbed. "It is a discipline of his own. My master wishes
always to remember the earth from which he sprang. All flesh is clay," he
reminded Joacim Branco. "It is the earth that nurtures, that sustains him."
    Joacim Branco scowled. "I understand that. But the Great Work should
transcend earth."
    "My master would not dispute that." He stood aside and let the alchemist pass
him as they entered the narrow hall that led from the courtyard to the stables.
    "It is well that he knows his limitations, and is not filled with pride,"
Joacim Branco said, somewhat mollified. "I find his austerity excessive, but his
intent is good."
    "I shall tell him you think so," Ruggiero murmured, and entered the stables.
    There were three heavily laden oxcarts in the stables and each was driven by
two draymen in Venezian clothing. "Well met, Cristofo," Ruggiero said to the
horsemen who had been the escort. "How was your journey?"
    "About what could be expected," Cristofo answered casually as he swung out of
the saddle. "There were two attempted robberies. I tell you, the brigands on the
roads are becoming dangerous. We fought them off, of course, and accounted for
ourselves successfully. But Sforza of Milano should look to his travelers.
Things were better when i Visconti ruled there." He shrugged philosophically.
"The athanor is in the second wagon, and we put the jewels there, too. Is it too
late to get a meal?"
    "No. There is food, if you want to take your draymen to the kitchen. The
cook's name is Amadeo and he is expecting you."
    Cristofo motioned to the men with him. "We eat," he said laconically.
    Ruggiero watched while the men left the wagons; then he told Cristofo where
to find the kitchen.
    When they were alone with the oxcarts, Joacim Branco began his inspection. He
moved from wagon to wagon, lifting lids and handling the various things he
found. The athanor particularly delighted him. "I have never seen one better
made. Surely we achieve the Egg in this. Ragoczy does well."
    "I'm pleased you approve," Ruggiero said, but his sarcasm was lost on Joacim
Branco.
    "We must start at the next new moon. It would be wrong to wait longer." He
touched the bricks of the athanor lovingly, lingeringly. "This is superb."
    Ruggiero did not dispute anything Joacim Branco said, but when the men
returned from their meal, he made sure it was the largest, earth-filled box that
was moved first.
    "But the athanor…" Joacim Branco protested.
    "My master wants his orders followed." Ruggiero spoke gently. "He said that
the largest box should be moved first, to his room. I intend to do as he
wished."
    Joacim Branco hesitated, then came down from the oxcart with the athanor.
With ill-concealed annoyance he helped the draymen move the largest box to
Ragoczy's room on the second floor of Palazzo San Germano.
***
    Text of a letter from Conte Giovanni Pico della Mirandola to the French
scholar Jean-Denis Gastone de Sangazure:
     
To that most able classicist and scholar, Pico della Mirandola sends Platonic
greetings, and asks that Gastone de Sangazure remember him to his distinguished
friends of the University of Paris.
    It has been much too long, my friend, since we have exchanged letters, and I