The horse whinnied and Vincenzio shifted in his seat and pulled on the reins so his mount slowed to a walk as they turned towards the wide, open square of Santa Croce. He must fix his mind on success; melancholic thinking would only beget failure. A donkey cart rumbled slowly past on its way to the morning market and the peasants doffed their caps. A few devout souls hurried across the square to early Mass but otherwise the space was empty. Vincenzio steered his horse down the broad length of the church and around the wall of the monastery until he came to a wooden door.

‘God’s blessings, I am relieved to see you.’ Friar Bartolomeo stood back to let him pass before shutting the door. ‘What happened to your face?’ Vincenzio told him of the attack and the friar crossed himself. ‘Are we mad to meet with Roberto?’

‘The fact is I cannot be certain who attacked me,’ Vincenzio answered. ‘Come now, show me to this emissary.’

The men hurried along the covered walkway. They spoke sparingly. Friar Bartolomeo’s thoughts were on suppressing the fear that quivered in his brow. Vincenzio focused on the meeting ahead; he was determined to be done as soon as possible so he could return to the business of his day.

‘I slipped away from lauds,’ the friar said in acknowledgement of the sound of chanting as they passed the novices in prayer. ‘We can attend early-morning prayers before you depart,’ he added as though in compensation.

Vincenzio followed him through a door that led to the novitiates’ corridor and brought them out by the Medici private chapel. How excellent is the work of Andrea della Robbia, he thought, as they passed the terracotta altarpiece; Lorenzo’s grandfather, Cosimo the Elder, always did have an eye for good art.

They kept to the shadows and passed across the outer edge of the main transept towards the entrance to the crypt. Vincenzio drew the hood of his cloak forward to shield his face though the few worshippers paid no heed to the soft pad of cloaked men.

‘Come, come,’ Friar Bartolomeo urged as he pulled out a heavy brass key and unlocked the door to the crypt. ‘It is better we move quickly. He waits for you below.’