Ranuccio

As Margherita passed through the gate leading to the market of Montepulciano, she greeted the guards as they stared at her, hypnotized by her beauty. She was so stunning that wherever she went, people cleared the way for her, nearly bowing down. Such respect was only afforded to nobility. Margherita loved the attention she received and threw her charming smile in every direction.

Vendors, who were arguing loudly with each other, suddenly became silent when she passed. When she climbed up the cobbled street and had to momentarily stop to catch her breath and rest a bit, she was honored with a drink of sage from one of the vendors.

She continued to the top of the winding street until she observed a most magnificent view of the valley, with marshes surrounding the city that was reflected in the sunlight like flaming torches. Everything was so beautiful that young Margherita suddenly started to daydream. She leaned on the wall to observe the view. She closed her eyes and imagined a party hosted by the wealthy. All the women were dressed in beautiful gowns, musicians played string instruments, and clowns were juggling. Smoked pork was being served with a red wine of a special vintage; all the pleasures of this life passed through her mind. Everything seemed so real that she started dancing with her eyes closed and her hands outstretched, turning in circles and hopping from foot to foot. She suddenly tripped and fell face-first to the ground. She had rolled onto her back when someone grabbed her and helped her to her feet. "I am sorry," she apologized, "I don't know what got into me."

"Seems that you are enjoying yourself," replied the man who helped her to her feet.

"Permit me to introduce myself, madam. I am Ranuccio Cacciaconti. And who is this pretty woman?"

"My name is Margherita D'Acquaviva from Laviano.

"What brings the pretty woman to Montepulciano?" he asked.

"Today is my sixteenth birthday, and I decided to spend a bit of time in this beautiful city. I love city life, and I enjoy seeing all the beautiful outfits and the food in the stalls," she answered.

"If that is the case, then we must celebrate your birthday. So permit me to invite you for a delicious meal with my family. Are you prepared to accompany me?" he asked.

Margherita saw that the clear sky could still be seen at the top of the hills and estimated that there was still more than enough time until it would turn dark and should have to go home, so she nodded.

Ranuccio held out his arm, and Margherita took his elbow and accompanied him to his home. When they arrived at the northern gate, he suddenly veered off the path and climbed the stairs slightly ahead. She noticed that near the doorway stood a gatekeeper who rushed and opened the door.

When they entered the wide hall, it seemed to her that she still had not woken up from her dream. It was a small palace, furnished with dark chestnut wood and embroidered pillows woven with gold thread. The table in the center of the hall was packed with food in large bowls, fruits of various kinds, cheeses, smoked meats, jugs of red wine, and loaves of fresh, delicious-smelling bread and cakes.

A stunned Margherita never imagined that Ranuccio was the eldest son of one of the wealthiest families of Montepulciano, the Lidebrandino Cacciaconti family.

Although she was dressed simply, the servants honored her, not only because she was Ranuccio's guest but mainly on the grounds that whoever looked at her could not tear their eyes away from her. She was like a mythical goddess with a rare hypnotic beauty.

It was all a dream. Margherita, a young girl of sixteen years old, a simple peasant girl from Laviano, is invited into the palace of one of the richest and most influential families in Montepulciano. Their son Ranuccio, mesmerized by her beauty, aristocratic walk, and unusual wisdom, cannot take his eyes off her. Margherita herself does not believe what is happening to her and thought to herself, "If only it would never end."

After a hearty meal attended not only by the immediate family but also by other relatives and some of the knights who stood guard outside the palace, Margherita realized that it was getting dark and asked to go home. Ranuccio accompanied her to where she had left her horse. As she was leaving, Ranuccio leaned over to kiss her hand and asked if he could come and meet her at her home. Margherita did not answer; she just got on the horse and began to gallop down the hill towards Chiana Valley on her way home.

The horse made ​​its way through the marshes. As night fell and it got darker, the road became more dangerous. The swamps were like death traps when trying to cross them in the dark, as in places, the mud at the bottom was sticky and moist. However, the main danger was the gangs of robbers who lived in the thickets of the marshes and would attack and rob passersby, at times even killing them. Moreover, many people had disappeared in the marsh areas, and a young girl alone would certainly be easy prey.

Margherita did not think about the dangers that may be awaiting her, she just thought about the rich Ranuccio, whom she liked, and her angry father waiting for her at home.

The moonlight illuminated the trails Margherita knew well. The horse was going carefully, and he broke into a light run when he sensed danger, and then when he slowed down, Margherita did not urge him on. His walk was like floating on water, barely touching the ground, barely making a sound. Then, in the distance, she saw smoke coming from a bonfire and decided to bypass the area and not venture too close to the source of the fire. The road became muddier, and as a result, the horse had a difficult time walking, so Margherita jumped off his back, held the reins tightly, and walked beside him. That is how they went for some distance until the ground became rocky and stable. Then she climbed back on the horse and let him gallop on the main road that led to Laviano.

Margherita, who decided to ride straight home, constantly feared her father's reaction. On the way, she passed the little church where she stopped the horse, crossed herself, and said a silent prayer, pleading with the Creator that her father not treat her too harshly.

When she arrived home, she tied the horse up, brought him some hay and water, opened the front door, and walked in. She noticed that everyone was asleep, so she climbed the ladder to the living floor. It was dark because the oil lamp was extinguished. However, the bit of light that shone through between the window blinds was enough for her to see her way to her corner. She was exhausted and feeling every bone from the long and arduous trip; she lay down on the mattress, closed her eyes, and fell asleep in her clothes.

When Margherita woke the next morning, her father was standing over her, his face red with anger and holding a leather belt.

"I demand to know where you were the last two days without being granted permission. Don't lie to me because if you do, I will hit you here and now," he shouted. Her two step-brothers, who were standing nearby, were terrified.

"Father, I am sorry," Margherita began. "It was my birthday, and I asked the neighbor to lend me his horse. So I galloped around the village and went out to the marshy area, and lost my way. I suddenly encountered thieves and hid from them. When it got dark, I ran away and eventually found my way home. Nothing happened to me, and I did not meet anybody."

"Why do I not believe you? Why?" her father shouted. "Go right now to church and confess to the priest all your sins and misdeeds. Go right now before I lower this belt onto your beautiful face, which is causing shame to our family."

Margherita hurried back down the ladder, walked outside into the garden, and noticed that the horse was gone. She did not ask any questions, just quickly ran towards the church.

Before she entered the church, she stood in the doorway and thought about what to tell the priest. Should she lie as she had lied to her father?

She suddenly heard the priest's voice, "Come on, my child, confess before me. What brought you to me? May the good Lord forgive you and fill your heart with his love."

Margherita kneeled, clasped her hands and approached the partition, and whispered in a barely audible voice, "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned twice. Once, when I did not ask permission from my father to leave the house and the second time when I lied to him."

"Confess my child, and unload the heavy burden from your heart. Jesus forgives all sinners, but only those who come with a pure heart and tell the truth. There is no hope for liars, and they will burn in the fires of hell," the priest told her.

Margherita began to talk and told the priest all that had happened to her, withholding nothing. But, when she finished talking, silence reigned.

Margherita waited for a response, and when none came, she got up and moved closer to the confessional room where the priest was sitting. She was in shock when she found him drunk, in a deep sleep, and snoring like a pig.

When she returned home, her father had already left to work in the fields, and her stepmother was in the kitchen preparing a pot of meat and beans. She took out some old bread that was wrapped in cloth bags and put it into the juicy stew to thicken. She did not even glance in Margherita's direction when she said: "You only bring disgrace to our family with your reckless behavior." Margherita did not answer her, just climbed down the ladder and went to take care of the chickens in the yard.

That night, while lying in bed and looking at the stars through the wicket that was open to easing the summer heat, she started dreaming with open eyes about Ranuccio, about his beautiful house and the aristocracy to which he belonged. And she, a peasant girl from Laviano, whose stepmother ignored and alienated her and whose father, was of weak character and showed no love or affection to her at all. She was unwanted and a stranger in her own home. Tears streamed down her face as she cried softly while placing her hand over her mouth so that nobody would hear. Then, finally, she fell asleep.

Approximately two weeks after her return from Montepulciano, a messenger on horseback arrived in the village of Laviano, stopped in the center of town, pulled out a scroll tied to his waist strap, and began shouting.

"Hear Ye!, Hear Ye!. On the last day of this week, before nightfall, there will be a big celebration in town on the occasion of the non-aggression treaty that was signed today between the cities of Cortona and Montepulciano. This important agreement will provide stability to the region and leave the residents free to cultivate their land without fearing thieves in the area. Therefore, soldiers, officers, and all residents from both cities are invited to attend this historic and momentous occasion."

Margherita could not have felt luckier. Finally, finally, there was an opportunity for her to once again meet the man of her dreams, and perhaps, she innocently thought, Ranuccio would fall in love with her ​​ and take her to his palace to be his wife.

Margherita immediately began preparing for the big celebration. First, she took her clothes to the nearby stream to wash them in olive oil soap, which left them soft and fragrant.

Peasants were hired to do the preparatory work for the celebration. They cleaned the streets with brooms, prepared the stables and carriage house, and built benches from slabs of cypress trees that they cut down, while the women made decorations from colorful fabrics and straw baskets. As a result, the town took on a holiday atmosphere, and its residents prepared very diligently for the celebrations. It was a great honor for the city to be the host of such an important event.