CHAPTER
ONE
In late August, 1620, two young horsemen were riding through a forest
on the road from Toledo to Madrid.
Suddenly, in front of them, a man jumped down from the low branches of a
huge oak and grabbed the bridles of their horses. One of the young men drew his
sword, but he saw a pistol in the hand of the robust fellow who was stopping
them.
- Easy, boys, - the man growled. - Get down and drop your swords.
The two young travelers looked back and saw three more men approaching
them.
- Let’s obey them, - said one of the horsemen quietly.
They dismounted and dropped their swords to the ground.
- All right, - said the man with the pistol, gesturing to one of his
helpers to pick up the swords. He appeared to be the chief of the bandits. -
Pass me your purses and all your valuables.
As both young men hesitated, the second bandit rudely tore a purse off the string hidden
inside the shirt of one of them, while a third robber grabbed a purse from the
belt of the other. They threw the purses to their chief.
- Ah, the blond boy’s purse is pretty heavy, - said the chief with a
pleasant smile. He reached into the purse. - Jesus Maria! Gold! It’s full of
gold! Take their bags from the horses, - he added, addressing his men. - Well,
my boys, before I decide what I will do with you you
tell me who you are and where you are going.
- I don’t see why we should conceal our identities, - said the blond
youth. - You will find our papers and letters of recommendation in our bags
anyway. My name is Geronimo Colonna and my friend’s Giulio
Mazarini.
- Ah, Italians. No wonder you mangle our words. What’s your business in
Spain?
- We are traveling to Madrid to study at the university of Alcala de Henares.
- Hey, Pedro, - shouted one of the bandits. - A paper with fancy seals
in his bag.
- What’s that? - the chief perused the paper.
- It says Geronimo Colonna - that’s you. What’s in it?
- It’s a letter of recommendation.
- Ah, I see, to Count Olivares himself! You are a bigwig, hey? And signed “Grand Constable Colonna.” Who is he? your father?
- Yes.
- And who is the other youngster? Hey, you, is your father a general?
- No, - said Giulio, - he is in the service
of Constable Colonna.
- Ah, so you are a servant, a lackey.
- No, - said Geronimo, - he is my friend.
- With an almost empty purse he must be a lackey.
- Well, my boys, - he continued, - if you had nothing we would let you
go, without the horses of course. But you have money; in such a case, we
usually take the money and either kill the poor devil or tie him up to a tree –
we need time to disappear, you know.
Geronimo and Giulio exchanged glances.
- But don’t fret. You turn out to be pretty special. We won’t kill you.
We’ll keep you with us until we get a ransom. By the way, if he were your
lackey, - he pointed at Giulio, - we would ask for
him one tenth of what we ask for you, but since he is your “friend” we’ll have
to get for him as much as for you. . . Hey, Jose, tie up their hands.