‘What say you to his letter?’ Roberto asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly. ‘I am charged to stay within the city walls, but we will need more soldiers than can be procured in Florence, and Piero looks to the families he’s supported in the past who live in the country estates between here and Pistoia.’

Vincenzio sighed. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said, brushing his acquiescence aside with a wave of his hand as though that would diminish the impact of the letter’s demand. ‘Piero has my commitment, though the amount he demands I give up to his cause will cut a most painful hole in my profits.’

‘What does the letter say?’ Friar Bartolomeo asked nervously.

‘I am to use my own purse to buy Medici support from the country estates Piero has listed.’ Vincenzio paused. ‘And I am to provide for him a list of men from these families who commit to join the Medici forces when the time comes.’

The friar raised his hands and brought them together as though he were about to pray. ‘Please God, this goes well.’

Roberto pulled out a second smaller pouch from his cloak and handed it to Vincenzio. ‘This is from Piero, in gratitude for your loyalty.’

Vincenzio took the money, though it was a token amount. ‘Any journey must wait until my work travels. At the end of the month I visit my shop in Prato and I will make it known I hope to seek out new customers. I have a need to travel on to Pistoia for family reasons. In that way I can stop at these family estates without suspicion.’

‘I have given you safe cover for a night but I am nervous that your presence here puts us all in danger,’ Friar Bartolomeo said to Roberto.

‘Piero would not put God’s house in jeopardy,’ Vincenzio answered before Roberto had a chance to speak. ‘Tell the good friar he has no need to worry. A soldier does not hide behind monks’ robes.’ He spoke lightly but there was a steeliness in his voice.

‘As you say,’ Roberto answered. ‘I will not stay another night in the monastery. There are others I can call on.’

‘So be it.’ Vincenzio made ready to depart. ‘We will leave you to make your plans; better we do not know where you sleep tonight.’

He stopped at the bottom of the stone steps and swung round. Roberto stood like a sentinel amongst the tombs. ‘A civilised Florence is what has always set us apart and will once again.’ Then Vincenzio turned and took the steps two at a time so that Friar Bartolomeo had to hurry to keep up.

When they reappeared in the church, it was littered with monks and good people come to prime prayers. Vincenzio and Friar Bartolomeo joined the worshippers. A pigeon flew above their heads, battering into one of the stone columns as if disoriented by the noise below.