Chapter One

I was once a young man riding the long train of my uncle, Pope Calixtus III. I began a career within the Roman Catholic Church. I was full of energy, passion, and a certain amount of intelligence. This led to lucrative appointments– a Cardinal-Deacon at the age of twenty-five, then Vice-Chancellor. With each new Pope, I gained wealth, status, and influence. 

Knowing Pope Innocent VIII lay dying in his bed creates heated arguments between Cardinals on the impending Conclave. As the Pope is being breastfed by a plump woman— a treatment one of his doctors swears will bring our Holy Father back to his earthly concerns, I knew I had to act quickly to ensure that the Conclave came out to my favor. 

Needing to clear my head, I head quickly to the busy inn of my once lover, Vannozza, mother to my children. She greets me at the door with a familiar smell of grapes and rosemary.

“My dear, your worries lay heavy on your shoulders,” she speaks as she rubs my knotted shoulder.

“Ah. But what ambitions do not carry some type of burden,” I quip, placing my hand on her warm working hand. “I need reassurances that I can trust those that have said they will vote for me,” I exclaim as I pound my fist on the wooden table. 

I stand up and walk towards a huge window overlooking Vannozza’s vineyards. She is shrewd and a gracious host. As I step closer to the window, I see Cesare and Lucrezia sitting close together, both their heads in a single book. So unlike the adventurous Juan, who was most likely causing mischief in the kitchens or fighting with the local ruffians. My children gave me great joy, and as soon as I wear the Papal Crown, I will publicly recognize them as my own offsprings and heirs of my loins. Vannozza glides across the room, although she has grown more rotund in these past years. She pours us both a drink.

Chapter Two

“There may be a way,” she hints. Her fingers lightly brush mine as she hands me a cup of her finest wine. “Although it may cost more than what you want to pay, Rodrigo,” she warns with her woman’s intuition. 

“But don’t you see that I am ready to give up all my wealth to see this plan through?” I exclaim. “Don’t you see what this could mean for the children? Surely you wouldn’t deprive the children of wealth and titles?” I question her just as the children bound noisily into the room.

My children greet me with a curtsy and bows as they find me standing in their Mother’s receiving room. I wave off their informality and take them each in my big arms. They are growing up so quickly. I question them on their education and tease my beautiful daughter with an impending marriage should Papa’s plan work.

Before embarking on their next adventure, my three children hug and kiss me, then their mother. 

Now that the children are gone, I pull Vanozza into my arms and press my lips against hers. “Please, I am asking you to help me.”

“When I was a small girl, I was told stories of a benevolent demon named Marchosias, who helps his summoner by answering all questions with the truth and a fierce warrior,” her voice quivers as she continues. “Once an Angel, but cast to the eternal flames of Hell where he rules over 30 legions.”

“Does anyone know the incantation to call this fallen angel?” I question her curiously.

“There is an old woman on the outskirts of the city, beyond the wall, who knows the words to summon the demon,” she whispers as she draws a map to where I can find the old Strega.

Chapter Three

I find the old one who knows the words needed to summon the mighty Marquis from Hell. Keeping my face hidden, I barter with her for her knowledge. The toothless woman swipes the purse with her claws. She cackles hysterically before whispering the words into my ear. The smell of her rotting teeth overtakes me, and I rush out the stifling hut. Her laughter follows me.

I repeat the phrase, making sure it sticks to my mind. As soon as my creaking carriage stops, I jump out eager to find out if the warty woman’s spell worked. Night fell over Rome like silk, while slinky shadows are left behind. The smell of burnt incense caresses my nose like a lover as I make my way to my dark room. 

Once in my room, I begin to prepare myself. What I am about to do is sacrilege, a sin against God. My palms sweat, and my mind buzzes with quotes from the Holy Bible. My thick tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, that fleshy indented spot in the mouth. I light candles and take in three deep breaths as I listen to the small fire crackling in the hearth. Barely audible, I whisper the spell out loud to the shadows dancing on the wall. 

As soon as my tongue touches the back of my teeth– the spell recited– the candles snuff out with a warm draft of air. I can make out something darting around the room with wings of the magical griffin yet the tail of a venomous snake. Was the night playing tricks on me? Or has the spell actually worked? O’ God, I pray that I can contain the demon as Solomon had. 

The demon lands with a thud, and I can see the furry muzzle of a she-wolf. Her teeth dangerously sharp, like the blade I usually carried on my person. Her eyes shine with hope and longing. What a magnificent creature, I start to think as I realize that the floor was wet where I was standing. Fear will cause a mortal to lose function of their body. I remember my father teaching me that lesson as a child. 

Marchosias shakes her head, and a puff of smoke exits her mouth as she laughs at my present state. I yank at the coverlet on my bed and toss it over my embarrassment as a young child might. The demon’s wolf head starts to look more human as the wings and fur disappear. Left standing in front of me is a slender, beautiful angel.

Her hair is chestnut brown, and her eyes are liquid and soulful. Her smallish tits are just the perfect size. My eyes drink in the vision before me. I could never pass over a morsel such as this. Already there were whispers in Rome and abroad of my illegitimate children by Vanozza. I cared not for their whispers behind doors.

I find my tongue loosens from its spot in my dry mouth. “Are you truly the demon, Marchosias?” I question the naked sprite.

“Yes, it is true,” she dazzles me with her smile as she speaks. “What is it you have summoned me for?” She asks as she gracefully moves toward me. 

“I have certain goals which I believe you may help me achieve,” I whisper in her ear as I pull her into my arms. “You will be my good luck charm, and informer,” I murmur onto her soft lips before I taste them. 

Her lithe body responds to mine. “I am willing to help you in your ambitions. But how will you address me in public?” She bats her eyes seductively, and I think she must read minds.

“La Bella will be the name I call you, for you are the most beautiful. And you shall be rewarded for your service in more ways than one,” I slap her bottom playfully.

She snaps her fingers and the candles spark with life. Her side teeth gleam in the light as she smiles at me. She truly is the she-wolf I need. “Shall we begin, I don’t think you have much time. The old Pope shall meet his creator soon,” she reminds me of the task at hand, her eyes promising pleasure afterward. 

Chapter Four

Pope Innocent VIII died on 25 July 1492. The conclave is carried out during the hottest season. The cardinals, sweaty miserable men, are ready to be back to their comforts. I am filled with such confidence and humility all at once that I visit each Cardinal and offer what comforts I can– an extra meal, an extra villa, and a pretty powerful speech about the corruption of The Holy See. 

I, Rodrigo Borgia, was elected on 11 August 1492, assuming the powerful name, Alexander VI. I give La Bella a set of rooms in the Apostolic Palace, situated near my own apartments.  I also bring Lucrezia into my household under the watchful eye of Andrea Orsini, until the time she is wed properly. 

I am now the earthly representative for our Lord and Father. I oversee the whole Catholic nations and act as their loving and just Father. I am finally where I belonged, on St. Peter’s Throne just as the demon promised, but she delivers so much more. La Bella gives me the love and support I need to carry the heavy burden I asked to carry. I will never part from my she-wolf demon who suckles a child of Rome, my child— just like in the legends of Rome.