A Bolt From the Blue by Diane A. S. Stuckart Read Free Book Online Page A

different matter. He had left behind his own workshop and his own commissions—not to mention my mother and brothers—solely on Leonardo’s word. What promises the Master had made to entice him into the duke’s service, I could not guess, though I knew full well the Master’s persuasive ways. As clever with words as he was with his brush, Leonardo could talk a rabbit into a wolf’s jaws. Still, I could not think that he would bring my father to Milan on a fool’s mission. But from the expression on his face, Angelo della Fazia certainly had traveled all this way in the expectation of seeing something . . . larger.
    “First, I must swear you both to secrecy,” the Master reminded us, seeming unaware of our doubt. “Other than Ludovico himself, no one else has been privy to what I am about to reveal. The fate of Milan—indeed, of the entire world—might rest with this invention. And so, I must have your vows that you will not speak of what I am about to show you with anyone other than ourselves.”
    I must point out that Leonardo had been appointed Il Moro’s master of pageantry for a good reason, given that he knew how to add drama to the most mundane moments. He demonstrated that talent now as he paused, his hand upon the cloth, while a look of almost mystic fervor settled upon his handsome features. Despite my earlier doubt, my curiosity was piqued. Perhaps I had been too hasty in my rush to judgment, I told myself as I eagerly gave him my promise of silence.
    Nodding, his gaze flicked from me to my father as he awaited a second response. My father was frowning, but I guessed from the inquisitive tilt of his head that he had decided Leonardo would not have brought him all the way to Milan for a trifle.
    “Very well, Signor Leonardo, you have my vow, as well. I swear I shall reveal nothing of this matter to anyone else.”
    Leonardo gave a satisfied smile. “Then I shall hold you in suspense no longer. But prepare yourselves, for I am about to show you the future,” he declared and snatched away the cloth.

4

    A bird is an instrument working according to mathematical law, which instrument it is within the capacity of man to reproduce with all its movements.
    —Leonardo da Vinci, Codex Atlanticus
     
     
     
     
     
    M y father and I stared at what appeared at fi rst glance to be a linen and wood crucifi x; however, the requisite Christ figure was posed unlike any I had ever seen. Rather than resting supine with arms stretched wide, he was stretched at length upon his belly, hands and elbows to his sides. As for the crucifix’s crosspiece, it was constructed of cloth laid over delicate ribbed frame that seemed to resemble wings. Not so much those of a bird, perhaps, but more like the scalloped leathery appendages belonging to a bat.
    Certainly, this was no religious carving, after all. Then realization struck with a serpent’s swiftness, and I gazed up at Leonardo in wide-eyed disbelief.
    It should be said that the Master’s doings were of great interest here at Castle Sforza. From his glorious frescoes, which added color and gaiety to the fortress’s gloomy halls, to the elaborate pageants and parades, which provided feast day entertainment, all were subject to scrutiny by various and sundry of the castle’s inhabitants. Indeed, he was watched and discussed almost as closely as was Il Moro himself.
    During the past few weeks, the rumor passed among the castle servants—and always accompanied by a snicker or roll of the eyes—concerned a new machine that they called “Signor Leonardo’s folly.” I’d also overheard the occasional whisper from one apprentice or another who had claimed to have seen a drawing of this marvel. But while I had no doubt that the invention might exist upon paper as part of the Master’s copious output of sketches both whimsical and sublime, I had never believed he would attempt to build it.
    And yet, here it lay before my eyes.
    Properly awed, I asked in a respectful tone,