Medicine & Folklore: Agnodice - The first woman physician

By Mirella Patzer

I was born in 300 BC in ancient Greece, and in today's world, you know me only as a legend. Did I exist? Or did I not? I shall leave it to you to decide. Here is my story:

I was a noblewoman who dreamed of becoming a healer. More than anything, I wanted to practice medicine in an era when women were legally prohibited from the healing arts. The only way I could achieve my dream was to cut my hair and wear men's clothing. Encouraged by my father, I dressed thusly and soon become an avid student of the famous Alexandrian physician, Herophilus where I earned the highest marks.

After I finished my studies, as I walked the streets of Athens, I heard the screams of a woman in the throes of labor. I rushed to assist her. The woman, believing me to be a man, refused to allow me to touch her. Desperate to convince her otherwise, I lifted up my clothes and revealed that I was a woman. She allowed me to deliver her baby. Women everywhere soon flocked to me. To evade the authorities, I dressed as a man, not only during my studies but also whenever I practiced.

When my male colleagues discovered that requests for their services were dwindling, while mine were increasing, they accused me of seducing and raping the women patients.

I was subsequently arrested and charged. At my trial, the leading men of Athens condemned me. To save myself from the death penalty, I revealed I was really a woman. A crowd of my patients declared in front of the temple that if I were executed, they would die with me. The wives of the judges argued, "You are not spouses, but enemies since you are condemning her who discovered health for us."

Under pressure by the crowd, the judges acquitted me and allowed me to continue practicing medicine.

I continued to work mostly with women and have been credited with being one of the first women gynecologists in history.

Whether or not the legend of my life is true, it is a story which the world of medicine has long cherished.


Agnodice
B.C. 300

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Traitors & Turncoats: Isabella Marie Boyd

By Mirella Patzer

Born in Virginia, Isabella (Belle) was the eldest child of Benjamin Reed and Mary Rebecca (Glenn) Boyd. Despite the fact she was never considered pretty, she was a strong-willed and assertive child, afraid of nothing. Being of the female gender never hindered her. She could race through the forest or climb trees with the most spry of lads. With her mischievous, fun-loving, and strong personality, she clearly dominated all her brothers, sisters, cousins, and friends. 

 Well educated, she graduated from the Mount Washington Female College at Baltimore. Afterwards, her family arranged for her social debut in Washington where she soon gained a reputation for her good nature and fun-loving spirit.

Isabella Marie Boyd

May 9, 1844 – June 11, 1900

Her carefree life changed forever on July 4, 1861. A band of Union army soldiers rode up to their home. When they saw the Confederate flag flying, they tore it down and hung a Union flag in its place. This angered Belle, but she wisely bit her tongue and kept silent. That is until one of the soldiers cursed her mother. That was when she pulled out a pistol and shot the man down.

That got her arrested. A board of inquiry exonerated her, but she remained under suspicion. They posted sentries around her house and officers kept close track of all her activities. Not one to be easily intimidated, Belle acted as if it didn’t bother her in the least. In fact, she chose to profit from her restricted circumstances and struck up friendships with several of the men. Her charms worked especially well on Captain Daniel Keily who soon began revealing military secrets to her.

Captain Daniel Kiely is seated on the right

Along with the many flowers he sent her, came tidbits of important information, the details of which she conveyed to Confederate officers via her slave, Eliza Hopewell. Eliza would carry the messages in a hollowed-out watch case. It was not long, however, before Belle and Eliza were caught. Belle was once more arrested, but this time, if convicted, she faced the death penalty. Luck, however, was on her side and she was freed.

Having come so close to death would have scared most people. Not so Belle. The only lesson she learned was that she needed to find a better way to communicate.

One evening in mid-May 1862, Union General James Shields and his staff gathered in the parlor of the local hotel.

Union General James Shields

She hid in the closet in the room, eavesdropping through a knothole she had enlarged in the door. She learned that Shields had been ordered east from Front Royal, Virginia, a move that would reduce the Union Army's strength at Front Royal. 

That night, she rode through Union lines, using false papers to bluff her way past the sentries, and reported the news to Colonel Turner Ashby, who was scouting for the Confederates. She then returned to town.

Colonel Turner Ashby

When the Confederates advanced on Front Royal on May 23, she ran to greet General Stonewall Jackson's men, braving enemy fire that put bullet holes in her skirt.

Stonewall Jackson

She urged an officer to inform Jackson that the Yankee force was very small and told him to charge right down so he could them all. Well, Jackson did just that and that very same evening, he penned a note of gratitude to Belle. For her actions, sge was awarded the Southern Cross of Honor. Jackson also gave her captain and aide-de-camp status.

But her lover turned coat and he gave her up. She was arrested on July 29, 1862, and brought to the Old Capitol Prison in Washington where an inquiry was held on August 7, 1862 concerning violations of orders that she was to have kept in close custody.

Lady Luck continued to smile down upon her. She was held for a month before being released on August 29, 1862, when she was exchanged at Fort Monroe. She was later arrested and imprisoned a third time, but again was set free.

In 1864, she traveled to England where she met and married a Union naval officer named Samuel Wylde Hardinge. Never one to be happy with the quiet life, she became an actress in England.

After her husband, Samuel, died, she returned to the United States on November 11, 1869. There she met and married John Swainston Hammond in New Orleans. But their marriage was a bitter, acrimonious one and did not last. The couple divorced in 1884. She soon married Nathaniel Rue High. A year later, she began touring the country giving dramatic lectures of her life as a Civil War spy.

While touring the United States, at the age of 56, she suffered a fatal heart attack in Kilbourne City, Wisconsin on June 11, 1900. Her grave can be found in the Spring Grove Cemetery in Dells.

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The Scandalous Affairs of Vannozza dei Cattanei

Vannozza dei Cattanei

Born into the lowest levels of the Italian aristocracy, the beautiful and spirited Vannozza dei Cattanei was charismatic and clever enough to run not one, but two inns, or ‘osterias’ as they are called in Rome. It is likely there that her charms caught the attention of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, whom she scandalously entered into an affair with, despite his vows of celibacy. He later became Pope Julius II.

Giuliano della Rovere

Pope Julius II

In his elder years

In her inns, she lavishly entertained rich, ambitious cardinals. Soon, the affair with Giuliano petered out and she turned her attentions to Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, from a very wealthy Spanish family. She soon became his favorite mistress – not bad for a guy at the highest levels of the church who is supposed to abstain from the sin of lust.

Rodrigo Borgia

Pope Alexander VI

When it came to Rodrigo, she was obliging and compliant, never making demands, and always offering helpful suggestions. He showed his appreciation by letting her use several of his properties which she eventually managed to convince him to put solely in her name. Oh, but that’s not all he gave her. In addition to properties, she had full financial support and bought a vineyard, a country-house, and more inns in highly desirable areas of Rome. As the years passed, she bore Rodrigo four children: Juan, Cesare, Lucrezia, and Jofre.

But all good things must soon come to an end and it was no different for this adoring couple. The Vatican soon took note of their wayward son and his flagrant violation of the celibacy vows that he had taken upon entering the Church. If he wanted to be in the running to become the next pope, then poor Vanozza had to go. But how could he get rid of his social climbing, materialistic, wealth-grabbing lover? The answer was simple – marry her off to someone else, of course.

So Rodrigo presided over her wedding to Domenico d'Arignano, a wealthy man who died a few short years later. With Rodrigo’s help Vanozza married a man named Antonio da Brescia. When he died, in order to continue to keep the mother of his children at arms’ length, and a safe distance from Vatican eyes, Rodrigo chose another compliant husband for his ex-mistress - Giorgio di Croce. In exchange for marrying Vanozza, Rodrigo made him apostolic secretary. A good job, steady money, why not? So Vanozza married Giorgio and moved into the same neighborhood as Cardinal Borgia's Palace on the Piazza Sforza-Ceasarini.

Over the years, Vanozza continued to be Rodrigo’s friend and confidante to many of his darkest secrets. When her second husband died a wealthy man, Rodrigo set out yet again to find her another suitable husband. This time, he chose a Mantuan named Carlo Canale, who had many lucrative and useful connections. To seal the deal, Rodrigo provide a dowry of 1000 florins and another high level job.

As Vanozza grew older, she became a little wiser too. Establishing herself as a reformed sinner, she began donating to charities and supporting convents. She remained in touch with her children.

When she died, she was given a lavish funeral almost equally attended by Vatican officials as well as citizens.

Written by Mirella Patzer
History and Women

Guest Blog: Mirella Patzer

This week, we’re welcoming author Mirella Patzer whose title ORPHAN OF THE OLIVE TREE is a tale of love, jealousy, betrayal and forgiveness in medieval Italy. Mirella is here to talk about the novel and offer an ebook copy to a lucky winner. This giveaway is open internationally. Here's the blurb:

Two families bound by a blood oath. A dreadful curse and the casting of the evil eye that will shatter lives, and the dark family secret one woman will risk everything to keep buried. An absorbing novel about wicked intentions, medieval superstitions, a curse uttered in envy, undisclosed secrets, unstoppable destinies, and two generations of women and the extraordinary event that will vindicate or destroy them.

From two neighboring villas in the heart of the Tuscan countryside to the elegance of Siena; from a world steeped in ancient superstitions to a culture where family honor is paramount comes, this multi-layered novel of the lives, loves, secrets and strivings of two women and their families in the 13th century. Felicia Ventura dreams of a happy future raising a family, but her hopes are shattered because of a curse and the casting of the evil eye by her envious neighbor, a dark Sicilian beauty named Prudenza. Prudenza’s envy of Felicia turns into a dangerous, frenzied obsession and she revives an ancient superstition, spreading the rumor that Felicia’s twins were fathered by different men. The scandal destroys Felicia’s marriage. But when Prudenza gives birth to twin daughters of her own, she is desperate to save face and rids herself of one infant, keeping the child’s existence secret. As the years go by, the truth has a way of making itself known. Soon Prudenza’s deception will lead to the unraveling of everything she values in life.

**Q&A with Mirella Patzer**

What is the essence of the story you’ve penned and what inspired it?

Orphan of the Olive Tree is a family saga set in 13^th century Tuscany. Two neighboring families are bound by a blood oath to wed their eldest children to forever bind their families together. Prudenza, the matriarch of one family, and the villain of the novel, casts the evil eye against her nemesis, Felicia, and shatters her happy life. But when the tables are turned, Prudenza finds herself in trouble and desperate to guard her own dark family secret. It is a story steeped in ancient superstition about twins, curses, and the evil eye, and the power of love and destiny to overcome adversity. It is a story about wicked intentions, medieval superstitions, a curse uttered in envy, undisclosed secrets, unstoppable destinies, and two generations of women and the extraordinary event that will either vindicate or destroy them.

My own Italian family inspired these stories. As a child I lived with many Italian traditions, superstitions, and wives tales. It was great fun putting some of these old beliefs into a story. For instance, you will never find a peacock feather in an Italian home because the peacock feather appears to have the evil eye at its center. And once, when I wasn’t feeling well and acting out as a child, my mother and aunts actually did the water and oil incantation to cast out any evil that may have overtaken me.

At the same time I released Orphan of the Olive Tree, I also released The Contessa’s Vendetta. This novel is a thriller about a woman who is believed dead and buried because of the plague. When she returns home to her family, she learns her husband and best friend have betrayed her. She launches a diabolical plan of vendetta with shocking consequences.

  

What makes these books special to you?

Of all the books I’ve written, Orphan of the Olive Tree is definitely a favourite because it was the most fun to write. I permitted myself to let my characters run wild, showing us their best and their worst. I sought to shock and awe the readers by adding unusual circumstances and oodles of old superstitions while adhering closely to my research to keep the story true to the times. I love the medieval period. For many authors, research is ongoing and never ending. I have been researching the medieval period for more than ten years since most of novels or current works in progress are set anywhere from the 10^th century to the 17^th century, and I have a vast collection of books to prove it.

The Contessa’s Vendetta was also a delightfully fun story to work with because it is on the dark side. I set the story in the Veneto region of Italy where I have extensively travelled and have family and friends there. All the places in the novel were locations I personally visited and spent time at, thus evoking many, many fond memories.

  

Do you think some of the superstitions you came across in your research could be harmful?

Absolutely. Many common old time superstitions or practices that were once wide-spread are now known to be harmful today. To this day, many Italian people, including my relatives frown, and immediately make the anti-evil eye gesture by sticking their thumbs between their index and middle finger if someone compliments a baby. Or many Italians believe that a cool breeze of air or wind can be harmful to one’s health so they often wear scarves, undershirts, and keep their windows tightly closed.

To this day, my mother believes that serving a pregnant woman plenty of red wine is good for the baby. Research today proves it is harmful to the fetus with long lasting effects thereafter. My mother also still believes that a pregnant woman must immediately receive all her cravings or taste everything in her sight to prevent the child being born malformed or marked. With those kinds of beliefs, it’s pretty hard keeping to a safe weight gain during pregnancy and that is definitely harmful.

If you could go back to a period and place in history, where would you go and why?

I would love to visit 10^th century Europe, but as a member of the nobility, not as part of the common class. That would be too hard and too full of peril. I have been researching and writing the biography of Queen Mechtild, mother of Otto the Great, for many years now. She was kind and charitable, and later was canonized a saint. In my heart, I have grown to love and admire her. She is buried in Quedlinburg Germany along with her husband, Heinrich, and I would love to have known her.

Please share 3 things about yourself that most people don’t know about you.

My family’s vineyards south of Ortona, Italy on the Adriatic coast  were the sight of the Battle of the Moro River where many Canadian soldiers lost their lives trying to liberate my mother’s village from the grasp of the Germans. That was the battle that led to the infamous Battle of Ortona. My mother’s home was bombed and they lived in caves for 8 months while the war raged around them.

I am a descendant of Giacomo Sichirollo, the famous Italian Cardinal, scientist, author, and scholar from 18^th century Rovigo, Italy. His books are classics and can still be purchased from Italian bookstores.

Fifteen years ago, I dreamed the lottery numbers. The excitement of the dream woke me up and by the time I could gather my wits to write the numbers down, I had forgotten two of the six numbers. Not believing in prophetic dreams, I played the four numbers, but didn’t spend the extra money to play the other possible combinations. The jackpot was $10 million dollars. The numbers I dreamed were the winning numbers that night. Always believe in your dreams and act!

What is you currently working on?

Sometime during 2013 or early 2014, I hope to release two more novels. The first is The Prophetic Queen, a biographical novel of Queen Mechtild of Germany in the 10^th century. She was the wife of King Heinrich the Fowler and the mother of Otto the Great.

The other novel I am working on is Lady of Destiny, another medieval novel with strong romantic elements about a very strong woman who finds herself fleeing from a massacre in her convent and must find her own way in a perilous world.

Can you tell us where to find more information about you and your books and how readers can reach you?

The best place to learn more about me and/or contact me is by visiting me on my website and blogs:

http://mirellapatzer.com

http://historyandwomen.com

http://historicalnovelreview.blogspot.com

Thank you Mirella, and best of luck with Orphan of the Olive Tree!

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Excerpt Thursday: Orphan of the Olive Tree by Mirella Patzer

This week, we’re welcoming author Mirella Patzer whose title ORPHAN OF THE OLIVE TREE is a tale of love, jealousy, betrayal and forgiveness in medieval Italy. Join us Sunday, when Mirella will be here to talk about the novel and offer an ebook copy to a lucky winner. This giveaway is open internationally. Here's the blurb:

Two families bound by a blood oath. A dreadful curse and the casting of the evil eye that will shatter lives, and the dark family secret one woman will risk everything to keep buried. An absorbing novel about wicked intentions, medieval superstitions, a curse uttered in envy, undisclosed secrets, unstoppable destinies, and two generations of women and the extraordinary event that will vindicate or destroy them.

From two neighboring villas in the heart of the Tuscan countryside to the elegance of Siena; from a world steeped in ancient superstitions to a culture where family honor is paramount comes, this multi-layered novel of the lives, loves, secrets and strivings of two women and their families in the 13th century. Felicia Ventura dreams of a happy future raising a family, but her hopes are shattered because of a curse and the casting of the evil eye by her envious neighbor, a dark Sicilian beauty named Prudenza. Prudenza’s envy of Felicia turns into a dangerous, frenzied obsession and she revives an ancient superstition, spreading the rumor that Felicia’s twins were fathered by different men. The scandal destroys Felicia’s marriage. But when Prudenza gives birth to twin daughters of her own, she is desperate to save face and rids herself of one infant, keeping the child’s existence secret. As the years go by, the truth has a way of making itself known. Soon Prudenza’s deception will lead to the unraveling of everything she values in life.

**An Excerpt from Orphan of the Olive Tree**

Felicia hummed a merry tune as she crossed over the bridge to Villa Bianca. The fragrance of ripening fruit floated on the breeze. Because of her pregnancy, she craved lemons and wanted to pick some that hung ripe and hearty on the tree next to Prudenza’s villa. After picking enough to fill a small basket, she sat to visit with Prudenza beneath the shade of a fig tree at the perimeter of a small courtyard. She had brought her embroidery.

Felicia wanted to keep her good news a secret, but her delight was too profound and she felt as if she would burst if she did not share it. Prudenza would have to know eventually. She might as well tell her now. “I have some wonderful news, Prudenza. I am with child.” She felt herself blush at the memory of her carnal escapades and could not help but smile as she pulled another thread from her sewing box.

Prudenza’s eyes widened. A glint of surprise sparked in her eyes, and then quickly vanished. “I am pleased for you. When will the little puttino be born?”

“In March or April, after the flowers first bloom, I think.”

Prudenza stabbed her needle through the linen in the hoop she gripped. 

Felicia covered her burning cheeks with her hands before she removed the now shriveled mammetta from her pocket, and straightened its silk and velvet gown. “Enrico does not believe in superstitions, but I know he is wrong. This helped me to conceive.” Felicia caressed the doll then laid it on her lap. She ran her hands over her belly that had yet to reveal the new life it contained. 

“Have you told Enrico yet?” Prudenza asked casually, her face void of expression. 

“No, but tonight I will roast a capon and serve him our finest wine. He will be thrilled. We have yearned for a child for so long that I want to ensure our evening meal turns into a happy celebration.”

Prudenza did not make any response. Instead, she embroidered with zest, making stitches one right after the other without pause, her lips pinched tightly together.

Felicia studied her neighbor, who seemed to have taken the news strangely. Blessed with almost perfect bone structure, everyone who met Prudenza could not help but stare at her beautiful features, statuesque figure, creamy complexion, and wealth of black curls. Yet, a perplexing coldness lurked beneath her great beauty. Her undisguised need to be better than others and to own beautiful possessions had always disturbed Felicia. Such desires invited greed and jealousy into one’s heart. Poor Prudenza, nothing ever seemed to satisfy her. She filled her home with expensive vases and intricate tapestries, and wore gowns cut from the best quality cloth. Talented stonemasons had even carved the bench they sat on. Yet despite all her lavish possessions, she never seemed satisfied, never seemed happy. 

Prudenza looked up from her work. Envy glittered from her dark brown eyes as she locked her unwavering gaze upon Felicia. With chin jutted forward, the corners of her mouth formed into an odd smirk that appeared to be more of a sneer than a smile. “You are radiant and beautiful in your delight, Felicia. I am glad you and Enrico will soon be blessed with a child. May you and your new family enjoy a future filled with profound love, good fortune, and much happiness.” Prudenza enunciated every word slowly, clearly.

A cold shiver ran down Felicia’s back. The kind words her neighbor spoke contrasted with her stiff posture and false expression. Felicia forced herself to smile at what she sensed was a contrived compliment. “Grazie, Prudenza. I hope you and Carlo will soon undergo the same joy.” Unable to stand the intensity of Prudenza’s stare a moment longer, Felicia glanced away.

They sat in tense silence for a while longer. A strange uneasiness settled over Felicia as she watched Prudenza now ply her needle with an unusual calmness, a slight smile curving her lips as if she harbored a secret. Whatever had just transpired signaled their visit was over.

Felicia rose from her chair. “I must be getting back to start Enrico’s supper. Thank you for the lemons and your hospitality.”

Puzzled, Felicia’s uneasiness grew with every step as she crossed over the little footbridge on her way back home.

* * *

Half-mad with spite, Prudenza tightened her jaw as she watched Felicia walk away. I’ll make you pay for your selfishness, Felicia. She felt the tension in her face slacken and she grinned. Immersed in thoughts of pregnancy, that idiot Felicia had failed to notice the evil eye Prudenza had so effortlessly cast upon her. 

Satisfaction filled Prudenza. No one knew she was a jettatura, able to cast the evil eye. Her Sicilian grandmother had been a jettatura too, with a rare and feared ability she had passed on to Prudenza. It was all so easy. A few words of praise uttered while thoughts of envy churned deep inside her heart. In such a simple way, she cast the evil eye. Now all that remained was to wait. Bad luck would soon do the rest.

Prudenza emitted a satisfied sigh. Felicia would suffer many years to come. Of that, she was certain.

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BLOODSTONE CASTLE Winner!

We have a winner for Mirella Patzer's BLOODSTONE CASTLE giveaway:

ANGIE-LA!

Contact Mirella to give her your address. The book must be claimed by next Sunday or another winner will be drawn. Please stop back later to let us know what you thought of her book! Congratulations!

Guest Blogger: Mirella Patzer

This week we welcome Mirella Patzer to discuss her release from Grace Publishing, BLOODSTONE CASTLE, which is set in medieval Italy.

***

Bloodstone Castle stands sentinel on the shores of the Ligurian Sea. Secreted somewhere in its dungeons is an ancient Roman treasure of immense value.

Contessa Morena of Bloodstone Castle possesses a mysterious bloodstone pendant, the only proof the treasure exists. Since childhood, she has been promised in marriage to Duke Ernesto of Savona. Ernesto is a desperate man, a gambler who has lost his family's fortune, a man who resorts to murder, not once, not twice, but three times to keep from paying his debts and to hide his dirty secret. Marriage to the lovely Morena will make the treasure his and restore his power and desperate circumstances.

After the brutal murder of his father, Duke Amoro of Genoa swears two oaths. The first is to avenge his father's death. The second is to honour his father's dying wish and wed Morena of Bloodstone Castle and end the violent feud with between their two families. He severs his affair with his mistress, Laria, and departs for Bloodstone Castle to propose to Morena. But Morena refuses to marry him.

Her life thrown into chaos, Morena must choose between obligation and honour, truth and lies, good and evil. She must honour the betrothal her father arranged with Ernesto. Amoro continues to try to convince Morena otherwise.

***

So what does a typical writing day look like for you?

I usually spend my mornings tidying up and doing a little housework. Then I check email, check on my critique group, and sometimes update my blogs or write a book review. Then I write or research in the afternoon and evening. I usually go to bed around 9 P.M. and read for an hour or so.

What inspired you to become a writer?

The desire to write developed when I came across information on the Battle of the Moro River in World War II in Italy which occurred on my mother's vineyards. Their village was brutalized, their friends were killed, and they survived by hiding out in a cave for eight months after their home was blow up by the Germans. Their story of survival inspired me to write.

What draws you to the medieval era and Italy?

I am the eldest daughter of Italian immigrants who came to Canada in the late 1950s. From a very young age, I fell in love with Italy, its history, its beauty, its culture. I indulge my yearning for my Italian roots by researching and writing about Italy. As a child, I read every fairy tale book in my library several times over, year after year. I loved reading about princesses, queens, kings, knights. I have carried that with me all my life except that now I read and write medieval era novels.

What's the hardest part of writing, for you?

It takes a great deal of energy to be creative. And it takes several re-writes before I deem a chapter good enough to progress to the next. I change and fix almost constantly. Many author friends tell me to just write and not worry about polishing and editing until after one is finished their first draft. I'm too much of a perfectionist to take that advice, so writing takes me a little longer than most.

And the easiest part of writing?

I find editing and polishing the easiest. Once I have written the bones of a particular chapter, I love going back over it to add sights, smells, descriptions, reactions, details. That's when the scene really comes alive for me.

***

Excerpt:

The cold claws of death reached for Vittoria Monterossa, Contessa of Portovenere. In a childbed in the highest tower of Bloodstone Castle, her lifeblood waned. Despite the warm blaze from the hearth, Vittoria shivered. With much toil, she birthed the babe. A hive of activity surrounded her and the small cradle.

"Please, let me see," she pleaded.

"We must bathe and swaddle the child first, my lady," the midwife declared as she exchanged bloodied towels for fresh ones.

Vittoria could not see it, but she sensed the warm dampness of the ominous crimson stain, dark as midnight, that crept across the bed linens.

Fear lived in every cranny of the old midwife's wrinkled face as she worked to quell the incessant bleeding. She threw another blood-drenched cloth onto a growing pile in the corner. An attendant scurried over with a stack of fresh linens.

Two noblewomen, shocked to silence, stared at Vittoria. One reached for the babe, and set the mite into Vittoria's arms. The other woman stared unmoving as if afraid.

To Vittoria, only the bundle in her arms mattered. The daughter, for whom she laboured so long, suckled at her breast. She pulled the child close and inhaled sweet scent. Vittoria savoured a moment she knew would not last.

"How cruel for destiny to deny you a mother," Vittoria whispered. Tears flooded her eyes. She looked down to memorize the child's features. Vittoria ran a hand over the delicate pink face and dark threads of hair and heaved a forlorn sigh. The tiny baby would never remember the warm caress of a mother's touch. That knowledge left a bitter edge to these sweet final moments together.

Vittoria removed a golden necklace upon which hung a large bloodstone pendant encircled by gold filigree. Peculiar flecks of reddish brown that resembled splatters of blood blighted the large green gemstone.

The midwife gasped. "My lady, don't remove the amulet. Its powers will quell the blood."

Vittoria shook her head. She knew her fate. Not even the bloodstone could alter the eminent. Perhaps it lost its powers. No one in the room dared to argue. Her hands trembled. Vittoria draped the necklace over her daughter's tiny head and neck. The bauble looked immense against the baby's diminutive chest. She turned the familiar pendant around and ran her fingers across the ancient Roman writing on the back. Faded and worn from years of wear, the words remained discernible. Vittoria reached out for her dearest and oldest maidservant and read the words aloud.

Redder than the rose,
Whiter than the lilies,
Fairer than everything,
All will glory in thee.

"A mountain's worth of significance," Vittoria whispered. She paused to recover her energy. "For generations, my family handed the amulet down from mother to daughter."

The maidservant gave Vittoria's hand a squeeze.

"A mysterious legend decrees the jewel originated from a Roman treasure casket buried somewhere beneath Bloodstone Castle – a treasure many searched for, but none discovered. In childhood, I searched, but failed."

Desperate to convey a lifetime of love into the little soul, Vittoria leaned forward, and pressed her lips to her child's forehead. "Tell my daughter this."

With tearful eyes, the maidservant nodded.

Vittoria breathed a sigh of relief.

Time lingered then stopped altogether. Nothing mattered except the power of her love in this final farewell. At last, Vittoria pulled away and let her head sink back upon the lace-trimmed pillow.

The midwife lifted the child. The noblewomen crossed themselves. Vittoria's eyes fluttered. The room grew dark. Her body weakened with every breath. Tell my husband - her name is Morena. He must love her enough for both of us."

Her chest rose one last time.

***

***

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