Machiavelli sat on his horse in a hesitant manner, and the two attendants beside him were exchanging words, but he could no longer bother to reprimand them.

Machiavelli felt that he might be really out of luck, and that he might even be in for a catastrophe soon.

He had always been able to get a good job in the city hall of Florence because of his diplomatic skills, but this was obviously not enough for Machiavelli, who had some ambitions.

Because of this, when he coincidentally received Savonarola's appreciation, he immediately showed great loyalty to the consuls.

It was because of this loyalty that he was able to travel to Pisa again.

In Savonarola's view, he saw this mission to Pisa as a rare opportunity, and he did not think that he would always be a diplomat, but hoped that through his observations of Pisa he would find something useful for himself and for Florence, and perhaps that would help him to get a higher position in the government in the future.

But he never imagined that Savonarola, who he regarded as a nobleman, would actually be overthrown!

As a well-known follower of Savonarola, Machiavelli knew exactly what he would be treated with, for he still remembered the methods used by the popular defenders against their enemies before.

Machiavelli thought of staying in Pisa, or even going to the Count of Montina altogether, believing that he would be of some use to the Count, especially since he thought that he had sensed the Count's great ambitions, and that he could do a good job with the Count.

But what he didn't expect was that Alexander didn't react to his performance.

Neither his impassioned plea for the rescue of his old master, nor his subsequent deliberate hesitation to return to Florence, seemed to impress the count.

Although Alexander ordered Machiavelli to follow his army, he never revealed whether he would take him in, which made Machiavelli more and more panicked as he got closer to Florence.

Machiavelli was not mistaken, and Alexander did not care about his affairs at all.

Alexander didn't have much thought about Machiavelli except for a little emotion when he met him and his great reputation in later generations.

At this time, Machiavelli did not write the famous "On Livy" or the "Treatise on the Monarch", which made him discredited in later generations, and now he is just a little learned and ambitious Florentine petty bureaucrat.

Even if he had written those works, Alexander would not have thought that he would have used this man.

In Alexander's view, Machiavelli was more theoretical than practical, as evidenced by his later ambitions to organize the Florentine Militia, but his vulnerability to the restored Medici army.

And even those writings, Alexander did not think that they really played any role in reality.

The distance from Pisa to Florence was not far, and as Alexander's army approached the King's Hill on the outskirts of Lorentine, he encountered a small group that was also on its way to Florence.

It was a Vatican order led by an archbishop, and Massimo was in the ranks.

The Order had apparently arrived earlier than Alexander's army, and they had been waiting on King's Hill for most of the day, leading Alexander to believe that the Pope had sent Nomelo to give him the edict after he had sent the order.

Alexander noticed that the archbishop was a close confidant of Alexander VI, which made him understand the Pope's intentions.

Obviously, when he heard about the Florentine riots, Alexander VI did not send Caesar or anyone else to lead the army, but sent a religious order, which is enough to show the Pope's attitude towards the Florentine riots.

As for Alexander VI ordering him to march into Florence, this is because the Pope knew very well that Alexander at this time would not have any ambitions for Florence.

After all, the succession declaration that left Lucrezia in Pisa to give birth and forced Tomneo to sign had already exposed Alexander's purpose to everyone, and if he showed his Florentine ambitions again at this time, I believe that many people would be willing to see him suffer a heavy setback.

Florence was now a hot problem, which is why Alexander VI preferred to give up such a good opportunity and send only one order instead of an army.

Alexander sat on his horse and looked at the city surrounded by mountains in the distance below.

Florence, one of the most dazzling cities in an era of alternating darkness and light, is not an exaggeration to say that what happened in this city has influenced the fate of the whole world in the future.

But now Alexander did not want to enter the city.

Next to him, Massimo licked his lips, and unlike Alexander, Massimo showed a hint of disgust on his face, he didn't seem to like or even hate Florence.

"I heard you've been here for a while, too?"

Hearing Alexander's inquiry, Massimo immediately nodded: "My lord, I have told you before, I have been in the most noble courts, such as in the Vigeran Palace of the Sforza family in Milan, where I have listened to the prayers and confessions of the noblewomen, and ......"

"I suppose you must have listened to their confessions in your bedroom and bed," Alexander squinted at Massimo, "I heard that you caught a duchess and a countess in Rome, and then the husband barricaded the three of you in a room. ”

"It's definitely slander," Mashimo denied in a righteous tone, "I didn't expect Busako to have such a habit of chewing his tongue, but I assure you that he must have misunderstood." ”

"Tell me, Mahimo, what would you do if you were to be the abbot of St. Mark's Monastery?"

Alexander suddenly interrupted Massimo and asked him.

Although he had vaguely guessed this possibility when he came, when he actually heard someone say this, Massimo paused for a moment, and then twisted his neck a little stiffly to look at the city that straddled both sides of the Arno River below.

The beautiful buildings of the city were not yet visible, but that didn't stop Asseimo from flashing back to the places that fascinated him when he thought about it.

"No, no, I can't do that, my lord," Massimo finally shook his head a little uneasily, "I know what I am, and I've been in that convent, and I promise you I don't want to go back." ”

Ignoring Mashimo's complaints, Alexander looked at the city in the distance, raised his whip and made strange circles in the air.

"Don't make up your mind too early about Assemo, maybe you'll soon find yourself enjoying the abbot's job when you get there." Alexander's tone changed as he spoke, and his tone became much more serious: "The Pope asked me to help you, and I am willing to spend money for you, but I want you to prove that you are worth more than the Pope said." ”

Alexander raised his head slightly, looking at the blue sky.

"Remember when we first met in Naples," Alexander smiled, "none of us would have thought that we would be talking about this in Florence now." Don't let me down Massimo, don't let me down. ”

Massimo looked at Alexander, a little stunned, knowing that Alexander was reminding him of the promise he had made when he first met him in Naples.

At that time, Alexander once hinted that as long as he followed him, he could have an extraordinary future.

Now it seems that his promise has been fulfilled, Massimo has a new identity and an enviable status, and he is even highly regarded by the Pope.

But now, outside of Florence, when Alexandria has become a popular figure in Rome, in Tuscany and Romagna, and when he has become a decent religious leader, what does it mean to hint at the promise again?

Mahimo's eyes became hot, and looking at the city below, the monk muttered to himself, "I hate this city, I hate Florence." ”

Machiavelli wrapped his crimson turban tightly, and even though it wasn't too hot for the month, the nervousness made beads of sweat break out on his forehead.

From afar, he saw a group of soldiers guarding the city gates, his heart beating faster with the cold light of their weapons flashing in the sunlight, and if it weren't for the fear of arousing suspicion because of the proximity, he might have turned and fled.

Machiavelli was well acquainted with the Sazis, and he knew what the family had done in the past against the Medici, and how the Medici had taken revenge on the Sazis and their accomplices.

In the same way, he knew how the original opponents who took the opportunity to return to Florence after the Medic family was overthrown treated the supporters of the Medici family who did not have time to escape.

It was because he was so familiar with this that Machiavelli was worried about his situation.

He knew that Sazi could not let go of Savonarola's supporters, and that he, as a fellow party of Savonarola, would definitely be in a bad situation if he was discovered.

Machiavelli nervously followed the people in front of him towards the checkpoint, and when he entered the gate, his legs were stiff and straight from nervousness.

But when he walked up the rue de Coroche and saw the stone dome of the imposing cathedral from afar, Machiavelli suddenly exhaled.

"Florence," he whispered, first in a whispered voice, and then tugging vigorously at the turban from his head, "to the Baptistery, where there seems to be a place to stay first." ”

Machiavelli instructed his entourage, and since noticing that Alexander did not seem interested in him, Machiavelli had carefully considered his situation.

He knew that he would not be willing to flee or remain incognito, and his passion for power made him ready to take another risk.

He intends to return to Florence and find a way to meet Sazi if he has the chance.

And the scenes he saw along the way, Machiavelli was a little more sure of his decision,

The purge of Savonarola's comrades had clearly plunged the city into turmoil, and he had seen on more than one occasion escorting some people through the streets, some of whom he could even name.

Those people were all followers of Savonarola.

Machiavelli was also a follower of Savonarola, but that didn't stop him from changing sides.

A large number of government officials have been arrested, leaving a mess that needs to be cleaned up.

Machiavelli believed that as long as he showed loyalty enough, Sazi would not turn him down.

After all, Sazi is not the kind of person who thinks that everything is perfect as long as he is spiritually pure, he is an aristocrat, but also a politician, he knows what the city and the people in the city need, but before that, at least someone has to help him.

Two more men were pushed across the narrow streets, and Machiavelli, who had dismounted, bowed his head cautiously, and had noticed that the man who was being escorted in front seemed to be a very fanatical supporter of Savonarola, who was also one of the organizers of the Popular Defenders.

Almost passing by, the men did not notice Machiavelli, and looking at their distant backs, Machiavelli hurried into a large compound with his entourage.

"This should be it."

Machiavelli recalled, then walked up to a house and knocked hard.

"Who's out there?"

A young-sounding and slightly nervous voice came.

"I want to spend the night here," Machiavelli said to the door, and then he added, "James Columbus asked me to come." ”

There was silence in the room, and time passed slowly, and just when Machiavelli thought that the other party was not going to open the door, the door creaked and opened a crack.

A young man looked warily at Machiavelli standing outside the door, while his gaze quickly looked around.

"You say you got you here from James?"

"Yes," Machiavelli replied, and then, fearing that he would not be able to answer at all, "I was introduced to me by a mutual friend of his, and he said that you were James when he was in Florence, a good fellow, and that you would certainly help me." ”

Roenzo Sabatini looked at Machiavelli again warily before opening the door completely.

"You're Florentine?" Sabatini stared at Machiavelli, "I can see that your tone and demeanor indicate that you are a Florentine, and only Florentines look so self-righteous." ”

"Now this self-righteous Florentine needs your help, young man." Machiavelli unceremoniously walked over to a chair and sat down.

"Are you in trouble," Sabatini looked at the two attendants outside the door, "If you want to hide with me for a while, you can't, I'm just a student and don't want to get into trouble." ”

"I'm just borrowing here, and I'll pay the rent." Machiavelli looked out the window.

He didn't dare to go home, and he had to hide from the people who were searching for Savonarola's comrades.

He knew that if he was caught by those men before he saw Sazi, the lightest thing that awaited him would be imprisonment and flesh suffering, and if he was unlucky, he would probably be executed.

Sabatini seemed to hesitate, and it took him a moment before he reluctantly nodded.

"Okay, you can live here, but my entourage won't be able to live here if they want to find another house." Sabatini pointed outside, "Let's find a house here, people have been taken away in the past two days, and they will definitely not come back." ”

Machiavelli could hear a faint smell of blood in Sabatini's words.

"I've just come from Pisa, Archon...... I mean Savonarola, do you know how he's doing now? ”

"I heard that he was locked up in the city hall." Sabatini shook his head, "I don't know what happened, I just know that 2 days ago someone stormed the monastery of St. Mark, and then a lot of people were arrested, in addition to some officials and civilians, but the most arrested were the popular guards." ”

"This is a disaster," Machiavelli whispered as he looked out the window, then turned back to Sabatinev and smiled, "But don't worry young people, I heard that the Pope has sent a messenger, and they will restore order to the city as soon as possible." As she spoke, Machiavelli muttered to himself in a voice that he could only hear, "As long as I don't get taken by those men before then." ”

As Mahimo rode into the gates, he stopped in the middle of the doorway, a little strangely.

Of course, he blocked the people who were coming in and out.

Many people couldn't help but cast angry glances at him, but no one dared to scold him.

Massimo looked up at the gatehouse above him, then down again at the stone path beneath his feet, and this time urged his horse forward and away from the gate.

"What is this monk doing, idiot?"

A gatekeeper scolded dissatisfiedly, and was immediately stopped by the companion next to him in a low voice.

"You're crazy, he's a messenger sent by the Pope, don't you want to die?"

"Oh, is the Pope finally in charge of Florence now," the mercenary asked with a slight sneer, "and his orders were worthless in the city." ”

"It's none of our business," his companion warned, "but I think 'that guy' might be out of luck this time." ”

Hearing the words of this mercenary, whether it was the previous mercenary or the passers-by who happened to hear it, although they all knew that 'that person' was now locked up in the city hall, they still couldn't help but turn their heads and look in the direction of St. Mark's Abbey.

St. Mark's Monastery is located in the heart of the city, just north of the city of Florence, and it just so happens that if you stand on the small wall of the abbey, you can see the famous University of Florence.

Further afield at the University of Florence is the famous Palazzo Medici.

Assemo slowly walked through the Medici Palace, which had been closed for many years, and then passed the square courtyard of the University of Florence, which was closed, and finally came to the entrance of the Monastery of St. Mark, where two guards stood at the door.

The monastery was quiet, except for a few corners where you could see blood stains that had not had time to wipe it clean, and no one would have thought that there had been a terrible riot here not long ago.

The door of the little house in Savonarola was open and the inside looked chaotic, the floor was littered with manuscript papers, and when Massimo pushed open the half-hidden door, he kicked something under his feet.

He looked down and saw a wooden plate, and a few dirty, trampled pieces of cooked lettuce, and a few pieces of black bread thrown on the ground.

It was breakfast that had not yet had time to eat, and on the table Massimo saw a jar.

He walked over and sniffed it, it was clear water.

A black monastic robe was casually thrown on the ground, indicating that the owner of the house had not even had time to put on his coat and was taken away.

Several manuscripts covered in footprints caught Mashimo's attention, and he picked them up and looked at them in the light that was not bright.

He saw that it was written in a rather scribbled font: "The greedy rich use all means to squeeze the blood and sweat of the poor, and then take out a few copper plates to do good deeds in exchange for peace of conscience, which is a viciousness that God will never allow, poverty is God's arrangement for people's fate, but it is by no means a reason for the rich to be unkind." ”

Looking at the handwriting on the manuscript, Massimo was slightly distracted, and after a while he put the manuscript away, then picked up the chair that fell to the ground and sat down, looking at the scattered table in front of him, Massimo couldn't help but whisper softly: "My lord, what do you want me to do here......