The time had come to unveil his masterpiece. The duke of Milan was holding a ball to honor his mistress and the birth of their new daughter the next week. It would be the perfect event.
He used his last coins to buy presentable clothes. The market seller assured him the outfit was the height of Florentine fashion. The voluminous cape had thick pleats made of ornate brocade, fully lined. He paired it with blue hose, parti-colored boots, and a matching hat. They were among the finest clothes he’d ever owned.
He managed to secure an invitation to the ball from one of his studio mates. By now they had all seen Rinalto’s finished work, and rumors were spreading throughout Milan that a special deck of cards would be presented to the duke’s mistress. Rinalto was taking his first step into high society and had little time to prepare. In Milan, every mannerism was an art. He practiced throwing back the sleeve of his cape all week.
*
The city was ready for a celebration. The duke had recently beheaded his latest wife, and the people hoped the birth of his mistress’s child would improve his mood. Most of the attendees had never seen the tyrant. He was a suspicious and paranoid man who distrusted people so much that he changed beds several times a night for safety. Rinalto was not the only one curious to see the duke in person.
Rinalto’s curiosity quickly turned to horror when he caught a glimpse of the surly fat toad hobbling around on deformed feet. The duke’s protruding eyes surveyed the room. He looked ready to order someone’s execution, which was disheartening since his advisors had assured the people in attendance that his lordship was in high spirits. Rinalto almost lost his courage.
All the nobles were deep in their cups, pretending the fear in the room did not exist. Rinalto’s mother had always warned him to be wary when approaching the seat of power. If she were still alive, she would have advised him to keep his cards, return to his studio, and cherish his modest life. But when Rinalto saw that Viviana was watching him from across the room, the warmth in her eyes steeled his nerves. Without giving himself another moment to doubt his actions, he approached the duke’s mistress.
“If I may be so bold to present this token in honor of your celebration tonight.” He knelt before her and opened the wooden box of cards with a bow of his head. “A gift for you, my lady.”
His heart thundered in his chest as he waited for her to look inside the box. She gasped with pleasure when she pulled out the deck. “Who made these?”
He dared to raise his eyes to her. “I did, my lady.”
With great excitement, she called the duke over. Soon a whole crowd had gathered, and the duke’s inner circle began to pass around the cards. Rinalto could hardly believe that Michelino da Besozzo, the most celebrated artist of the day, was holding his work in his hands.
“Exquisite.” Besozzo gave him an assessing look.
The duke seemed thrilled. “Ingenious! Think of the trick games we can play.” He turned to Besozzo. “I must have one like it!”
Besozzo bowed meekly. “Of course.”
The duke held out a card and squinted. “See how he’s painted my coat of arms and mottos.… He’s even made the coins in my currency.” He looked back at Rinalto. “Well done,” he praised. “Well done!”
With those two words, said not once but twice, Rinalto was granted a seat at Milan’s table. Before the end of the night, he received a dozen commissions for identical decks.
Throughout the evening he caught Viviana staring at him. As the ball neared its end, he steeled his nerves and finally approached. He bowed low with a flourish.
“Your playing cards have made quite an impression,” she said.
The praise and the ever-flowing wine made him bold. “I painted them to win your notice,” he confessed with bright eyes and flushed cheeks.
Viviana looked astonished, then gave a tinkling laugh.
“As an acceptable suitor, of course…,” he bumbled. He realized that he was saying too much with little aplomb. He tried to throw back the sleeve of his cape and failed miserably. Viviana giggled again.
“And now I must I leave before I make a bigger fool of myself,” he said and turned to escape.
“Wait!” She placed her hand on his arm. “Is it true her gown has red sleeves and there’s a white dog?”
In response Rinalto plucked a rare striped rose of scarlet and gold from a nearby vase. “She also has your hair.” He handed her the flower and hurried away.
Viviana held the flower to her lips and watched Rinalto head to the door, where he was waylaid by the crowd.
Tonight Rinalto was a shining star. Although he did not know it, he had completely endeared himself to the one person he had hoped to impress.
*
Viviana and Rinalto married with her parents’ blessing within the year. On their wedding night Rinalto gave Viviana an exquisite handmade wooden card box made of rosewood, which was crafted with inlaid floral designs. Inside lay Hayl’s original deck, along with a set of Mamluk cards he had painted to match. But Viviana never played the Tarocchi card games that were popular in the salons. She kept her treasured cards in Rinalto’s engraved wooden box instead.
This new type of deck, with its seventy-eight cards, made its way from Milan to Ferrara, Venice to Bologna and Florence, and then throughout Europe. No one ever questioned the cards’ origins. So they stayed hidden, like most symbols do, in plain sight, until one man in France recognized them for what they were.
Justice
Semele’s mouth dropped open in a silent “Oh.”
She had been translating for the past two hours on the train to New Haven when she recognized the name Filippo Maria Visconti. He had been the duke of Milan and had commissioned the Visconti Tarot Decks, the oldest-known tarot decks in existence. They were even named after him. Semele knew this because the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library housed one of the decks—her father, Joseph Cavnow, had been a curator there. On several occasions she had seen the library’s Visconti Tarot Deck, also called the Cary-Yale Tarot Deck after the collector who donated them. Were Ionna’s cards tarot cards?
Here she was heading right toward the Visconti Deck, and she was beginning to sense that it wasn’t an accident.
When the train arrived, she decided not to tell her mother she was in town just yet. First she needed to stop by the library to see the duke’s cards.
*
The Beinecke Library’s unusual architecture gave the illusion that it hovered in the air. Strategically placed pyramid columns raised the building off the ground, and instead of windows, opaque marble shielded the sunlight, changing colors throughout the day. The effect always made the library seem alive. Growing up, Semele had called it “the magic square.”