Leonardo's Swans Read Free Page A

Republic, the old Castello d’Este with its famous four towers was quickly transformed from fortress to grand residential palazzo. The soldiers, along with their weapons and artillery, were moved to the older, colder, more stern quarters, while the family and members of the court occupied the newer and more spacious halls and apartments, decorated with the works of the greatest artists of the decades, all of whom had passed through Ferrara in the service of the Este family—Pisanello, Piero della Francesca, the Venetian Jacopo Bellini, Cosimo Tura.
    Isabella points out to her beloved Francesco and her uninterested sister an example of the new architecture, the Palazzo dei Diamante, the residence named from her father’s sobriquet, the Diamond. Twelve thousand diamond shapes jut into the air from the palazzo’s ominous façade—not exactly a subtle reminder of Duke Ercole’s omniscient power over Ferrara, but an effective one.
    “Do they call him the Diamond because he is worth so much?” Francesco asks.
    “It’s because he’s thin and sinewy and his body is cut in hard lines,” Beatrice pipes in, suddenly part of the conversation.
    “It’s because in negotiations, he’s as hard as the hardest rock,” Isabella says. “Something your family undoubtedly found out when they negotiated our marriage contract.”
    “I think he made a terrible deal for himself,” Francesco replies.
    “Why?” Isabella asks, now wishing to defend her father.
    “Because you are priceless, that’s why. If you were my daughter, I would know that you were too good for any man.”
    Beatrice skewers her face at Francesco, in mock disgust over his syrupy lover’s comment.
    “You probably stole that from some bad poet,” she says.
    “Or a stable boy courting a kitchen maid,” Isabella teases. It would not do to let Francesco know how deeply his every word affects her.
    B EATRICE looks restless. Isabella watches her sister’s eyes scan the city walls as if she is looking for an escape. Isabella gets jittery when she sees this mood descend over the younger girl. She can tell by the sudden, secretive smile and the darting eyes that Beatrice has a new surprise and is searching for just the right moment to reveal it. Beatrice is often predictable in her unpredictability.
    Isabella tries to distract her sister by beginning a new conversation. “My father’s latest project is to rebuild the city walls,” she says, gesturing to the towering redbrick fortifications, decorated with hand-carved medallions of the city’s symbols, and the crests and portraits of the illustrious members of the ruling Este family from days gone by.
    “At the top are wide footpaths. You can see all the way out into the countryside, beyond the Po River. If you like, you can circle the entire city.”
    “Or anticipate an invader, which is more likely what your father had in mind,” Francesco adds.
    “You men with your military minds!” Isabella says, flashing him a smile that lets him know that she is saying it with admiration.
    Before she can bring her lips back together, the thing that Isabella has anticipated and feared begins. Beatrice breaks from the other two, pulls back her horse’s head, and eggs him on up the brick stairs that lead to the top of the city walls. Isabella would like to simply be annoyed at her attention-seeking sister, but the problem is twofold. First, one is not allowed to take horses to the top of the wall. Second, and perhaps more serious, the project is not yet finished. Great gaping holes leave the brick walkways disconnected. But Beatrice is not one to think on these things. She is not particularly observant, nor does she plan ahead.
    Duke Ercole’s sentries on the walls’ top tier anticipate the runaway rider, ready to apprehend the unruly person, until they recognize the duke’s daughter. Everyone knows that she spent too many years with her indulgent grandfather in faraway Naples. Without the watchful eye of her mother