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using it as a little desk. Presuming the templum protected
him from the two men whom Marni had called Visconti
and Transom, Rosemont took time to absorb information
from Miles s binder. Marni had mentioned that she,
Priscilla, and Miles would discuss someone called the
monk while he was gone; so Rosemont thumbed through
the pages until the word caught his eye in a translated jour-
nal. It was accompanied with a fax marked by four coffee
cup rings.
162 Barth Anderson
FAX
Prof. John C. Miles
Room 648
Hotel Garibaldi
5 pages to follow
February 6, 2003
Miles,
I found this document in an archive dump that Ligget
& LaSalle acquired from Milan s Biblioteca Mansutti
(a library devoted to the history of insurance in Italy!
Amazing what gems Europe has in its collections of
garbage). I think you ll find this one especially interest-
ing. As you suspected, Visconti betrayed the Mad
Monk (whose name is di Trafana). This is also the
earliest reference we ve found regarding di Trafana s
deck.
In this fax you ll find copies of both the three origi-
nal diary pages written in April of 1425 by a con-
tracted officer-for-hire (condotierre) and a translation
conducted by Dr. Rita Boris at the University of
Nottingham.
By the way, your last letter arrived opened. Future
correspondences should be faxed if possible.
Sincerely,
Everett
THE MAGICIAN AND THE FOOL 163
THE CONDOTIERRE S JOURNAL
April 8 I have come to believe that the astrologer, di
Trafana, is plotting some hardship upon our beloved
Duke. Chiefly, I believe di Trafana is the papal spy that F.
warned me about.
I cannot convey how suspecting this warms the cellars
of my cold, old heart.
April 17 The astrologer received my gifts and letter, as
I d hoped. My plan is to seek his advice about a costume
for the Duke s approaching March of the Triumphs.
No one knows very much about this foreigner with a
Milanese name (di Trafana), though I have asked about
him extensively among Duke Visconti s other condotierri.
He apparently comes from Rome, but he does not share a
Roman s typical love of the Vatican.
April 25 The astrologer has agreed to help me with my
costume for the March of the Triumphs, which is a great
ease to my mind, since he has actually read Petrarch, whose
poem Il Trionfi will be the influence for this festival, and I
cannot stomach modern poetry. But more important, he
has the complete confidence of Visconti, and I must ingra-
tiate myself to the Duke.
Questions before me: Does the Duke suspect this di
Trafana of intrigue as I do? The astrologer is the logical
candidate, as he is a foreigner. If the Duke does not sus-
pect him, why does he not? Perhaps the Duke knows
nothing of the Holy See s moves against him. Could I be
so fortunate?
164 Barth Anderson
April 26 Last night di Trafana received me in his
chambers in the very Citadel of Milan where dwells
Visconti himself, and I experienced a most startling
evening.
My first indication that the visit would proceed
strangely was the complete absence of halbardiers or par-
tisans. We would be speaking alone a highly unusual oc-
currence in the Citadel, the Duke s castle of a thousand
eyes. Di Trafana s chambers were filled with books and
charts, but also works of art, blocks of wood for making
woodprints, pots of paint and ink, and other such frivoli-
ties.
He is indeed a curious man. Petulant and easily an-
noyed, di Trafana could turn in a moment and wax Jovian
the next. This irregular demeanor was apparent from the
start. When I arrived, di Trafana invited me to ingest an
intoxicant that he called simply murm, but I declined.
Then he asked if I might like to dance while he sang.
Again, I made an excuse. I wondered if this were madness,
but as our initial conversation progressed into more famil-
iar matters, I determined this behavior indicated military
genius, conducting himself with unpredictability in order
to keep me, a rival in the Citadel s game of influence, un-
balanced and unsure.
When matters turned to the ball and Il Trionfi, di
Trafana said that selecting a costume would say as much
about me as selecting armor or heraldry might. Parlor
games for women and bored courtiers, to be sure, but I
yearn to impress, so I bid him tell me more.
At this juncture, he interrogated me: Which is more
important, wisdom or power?
THE MAGICIAN AND THE FOOL 165
Thinking that he was either seeking to flush out a trai-
tor on the Duke s behalf or interviewing a potential con-
spirator, I decided to test him. Power leads to wisdom as
a course of nature, said I. One need only examine a line
of men like the Viscontis for proof.
At this, di Trafana grew agitated. The most powerful
are typically unknowing and darkened of mind, I have at
last come to understand.
I asked him if he were referring to Duke Visconti.
Di Trafana said that the line of the Viscontis was
weak, that the current Duke was revealing himself to be a
shortsighted man. I found it extraordinary that the as-
trologer would unveil his mind to me thusly, as he was a
foreigner and his position in Milan precarious, even if he
currently enjoyed the love of the Duke. Seeing a potential
ally against our common benefactor, I asked him if he was
considering leaving the Duke s service.
Di Trafana said no, he hoped to yet convince the
Duke to embrace what di Trafana called the legacy of
Rome.
I thought that at last, here was the conspiracy, so I
asked if this legacy weren t a papal scheme. Has an in-
filtrator from the pontiff arrived in the Citadel, then?
A conspiracy of the order that di Trafana then de-
scribed, I had never dreamed upon. You think power
sits in the Vatican, di Trafana said to me. Even as you
rebel against that office, you northerners hand the pontiff
power. But I refuse. I refuse to see that office as anything
but mine.
The statement was incredible. You wish to be the
pontiff?
166 Barth Anderson
I am the pontiff, said he. The pope is nothing but
an impostor. Long before the coming of the Christians
and their Hanged God, I was pontifex the sacrificer on
the bridge and I was responsible for reminding Rome of
its legacy. I threw little boys made of bulrushes down into
the Tiber River so that all might remember what we d
lost, what we d become. Do you know who was thrown?
Do any now recall?
I said that I knew the old nursemaid tales as well as
any. Romulus and Remus, the babies who were saved
from the Tiber River and nursed by a she-wolf. To show
I understood the significance, I said, The founders of
Rome.
Romulus, di Trafana said in contempt. He was in
no need of being remembered in our rituals, for his name
is synonymous with Rome. But the other boy Remus.
He we gave back to the water in memory. He was the
greater magician, reader of lightning, and seer. Even in
death, he proved himself so. To embrace this legacy is to
upend the Vatican, the pope, and to rock the walls of
Romulus.
But the breadth and scope of this endeavor, a conspir-
acy to break the twin lock of Rome and Vatican upon the
northern city-states, left me breathless in my contempla-
tion of it. How might we rock the walls of Romulus, as-
trologer?
By finding the lost twin who hides in plain sight.
There lies our power and wisdom. Di Trafana then re-
moved from a richly carved, dark wooden box a small
pile of cards, neatly stacked. I know cards for play-
ing games of chance among my Turkish mercenaries, of
course, but there seemed to be a mere fifteen or so in to-
THE MAGICIAN AND THE FOOL 167
tal. What game could be played with them? They were
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