Da Vinci's Cases: Three Adventures of Young Leonardo

By Alfred Bekker

Da Vinci's Cases: Three Adventures of Young Leonardo

Da Vinci's Cases

by Alfred Bekker

360 pages

Three mysterious adventures of young Leonardo da Vinci:

Leonardo and the Mystery of the Villa Medici

Leonardo and the Conspirators of Florence

Leonardo and the Mystery of the Alchemist

The year 1462, location: the small village Vinci near Florence: Ten-year-old Leonardo and his friend Carlo experience a lot of adventures: a spy must be unmasked, the boys are kidnapped by disguised bandits and a testament has disappeared. Leonardo and Carlo need to find a solution in all cases.

Alfred Bekker, born in 1964, writes fantasy, historical novels, criminal novels and books for young readers. His historical adventures for young readers are full of suspense, stuff which even kids who hate reading cannot resist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BEKKERpublishing
• Release date: Jul 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781524210168

Alfred Bekker

Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Stranger

Lightning flashed from the gray clouds. It was raining cats and dogs and the dirty road the small town of Vinci was situated on, quickly turned into a swamp. Wind came up and shook shrubs and trees.

Why don’t you close the shutters, Leonardo?

Because I want to watch.

But it will rain into the room, if it gets worse!

Come to the window and look out, Carlo.

I don’t know ...

If we're lucky, we will see how a tree is cut. Just like last summer, do you remember?

Ten-year-old Carlo remembered very well.

His friend Leonardo, of the same age, was sitting at the open window and looking outside with fascination.

Actually, he had been occupied with trying to dissect a dead bird, which he had found in the woods yesterday. But the storm was more interesting than looking inside a bird. Leonardo had a good view of the surroundings from the room in which he lived in his grandfather’s house. It was upstairs and when sitting on the window-sill he could overlook the village to the nearby hills. In the last year a storm occurred which was extremely worse. At that time, Carlo was visiting his friend Leonardo, too, when suddenly it began to rain and to storm heavily. They had been sitting at the window and looking how the lightning was attracted by an ancient tree on one of the hills outside the village. Since then, the tree was split and Leonardo had been captured by a fascination for lightning and thunderstorms that thrilled him again and again whenever it began to rumble in the sky.

Carlo remembered well how Leonardo had wanted to examine the splitted tree the day after the storm. The boys had discovered traces of fire, but that was about all they had found.

Leonardo’s words of that time still sounded in Carlo’s ears. The flash has a much greater force than a man with an ax – just imagine how long a person would have to use an ax to split a tree! It must be a giant, otherwise he could never split the tree like this: from top to bottom! Therefore, I think that the flash has the power of a giant!

Carlo sighed and joined Leonardo at the window. Meanwhile, he got used to the fact that his friend was full of crazy ideas and always wanted to know all about everything. Even if Carlo thought that sometimes, he didn’t need to know anything. What was the sense, for example, of learning everything about the inside of a dead bird?

The fresh air that blew in now made Carlo breathe easier. In Leonardo’s room, it always smelled rather sharp, because he liked to dissect dead animals in order to find out how they were structured inside.

Mostly, however, he forgot to remove the leftovers, so that always some putrid odor of decay hung in the air.

What could you achieve if you had the power of lightning, Leonardo said. Imagine that you could capture this power somehow or invent a machine that produces lightning itself! Whereas a gang of woodcutters would need a whole month, by the help of such a machine you could finish the work in one day! And during war, you would not have to besiege fortified towns for several months, but this force could crush the fortresses!

Again and again, Leonardo was imagining the strangest inventions and he could talk about any fantastic machines so vividly, that you could believe in the realization of these inventions.

But how could you capture a lightning? asked Carlo, who asked himself once again from where all these ideas came to Leonardo.

That's the problem! If such a method had occurred to me, I would have tried to realize it for ages.

Leonardo! You cannot catch a lightning. How should that work? You might as well try to catch the sunlight!

You can capture the sunlight, Leonardo said.

So, how?

With mirrors. You can do it yourself from a mirror towards the other.

But sunlight also has the advantage that it cannot kill you, Carlo said. Three years ago, a farmer in the neighbor village was struck by lightning, because he stayed too long in his field during a thunderstorm. He was killed instantly. Leonardo did not answer.

Once, he cannot say anything against my arguments! thought Carlo, but he was not sure if his friend was maybe just thinking very intensively about something else. This, namely, happened somewhat often. He then sat there and just looked completely absent because he was thinking about something or just had one of his strange ideas. Then he did not even notice when somebody spoke to him. In any case, it was never boring with Leonardo and therefore Carlo liked to spend his time with him - though his friend was by far the weirdest boy in Vinci. In the roar of the storm, the more dense consecutive thunder and the patter of rain a different sound was now mixing that called Carlo’s attention. Hooves!

A little later, a horseman galloped the muddy road between Pisa and Florence along to the village of Vinci. The rider was wearing a cape, which to some extent protected him from the rain. The head was covered by a plate-shaped leather cap from which the water was dripping down. From the face of the man you could only see his eyes, because he had turned up his collar.

Who's that over there? asked Carlo. He nudged Leonardo. That guy there! I have never seen him before!

The rider reined in his horse and stopped. He looked around at the houses of Vinci.

He has already been here, Leonardo said. It's been about four weeks. But since it was night with full moon, I remember exactly, because I was trying to draw the dark spots which you see on the moon surface. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to draw them very well ...

A strange man ...

Anyway, he's armed. Under his cape a sword tip is looking out!

Leonardo shrugged. Maybe a mercenary who wants to become a part of the city guard of Florence.

Then he would not be here! said Carlo.

He might have been rejected because of no vacancy, Leonardo pointed out. And now he wants to try it again. But perhaps he is also the ambassador of a distant court, who should bring an important message to Florence! But it’s obvious that he must be a lord because of his clothes, his equipment, the saddle ... Leonardo said nothing more. Suddenly, an idea seemed to distract him.

Did you notice where he was riding to that night while you were watching him? asked Carlo.

No. I heard grandfather coming up the stairs and I went to bed quickly. Actually, I should have been asleep. Apparently I had made too much noise so he could hear me.

The rider now turned his horse to the side and then disappeared behind the church.

I bet he is now riding to our single guesthouse and wants to stay there, supposed Leonardo. If he wants to reach Florence today, he would not arrive there before the gates are closing.

Leonardo looked up at the sky. The flashes become more seldom. The thunder only was a distant rumble. The rain, however, even got harder.

What a pity, Leonardo said. The storm is dying down. I do not think that today a tree is splitted. He turned away from the window. Will you help me cutting the dead bird in pieces?

That's terrible! Carlo muttered in disgust.

I also have a lizard. If you wish, we can also dissect it.

You make me feel sick, Carlo said. Just imagine, you would be cut in pieces when you're dead!

If I were dead, I would not feel that even more, said Leonardo. So it would mean nothing to me. On the contrary! If a real doctor will examine my body, he can learn about how the human body works, so that better, more effective methods of healing could be developed! Therefore, after death, I might be useful.

Carlo frowned. Perhaps my father is right, he said.

With what?

That you are not quite right up top.

Carlo, dead animals are dead animals - nothing else! Have you never slaughtered?

Carlo sighed and looked out of the window again. He now had the choice: Either he walked through the rain home or he had to watch how Leonardo cut two dead animals apart.

There was a knock on the door of the only inn in Vinci. The landlord looked at his wife questioningly. It knocked a second time. Gianna, the ten-year-old daughter of the host, sat in a corner and played with her little sister. They used wooden dolls that their father had carved for them. The third knock sounded and now Gianna looked up and brushed back the long falling hair.

Hesitantly the host went to the door and opened. A dark figure stood there in the rain - wrapped in a cape and with a face almost entirely covered by the turned up collar. The water dripped from the leather cap. The host’s eyes slipped to the good leather boots and the point of the sword.

Come in, sir, the landlord said very submissively. The stranger stepped forward two steps. The water was dripping from his cloak. The look out of his blue eyes glided across the room, as if searching for something. Above the left eyebrow was a scar.

Where is he? His voice came muffled from under the collar.

The host turned to his daughter. Gianna! Tell the Portuguese the news! Tell him that his visitor has arrived ...

Gianna swallowed. The Portuguese - that was a very strange man, who had been quartered in the guest house of her father for several weeks. He almost never left his room, was wearing a dark beard that grew up under his eyes and bushy eyebrows that were very oblique giving him such a look that Gianna recalled descriptions of the devil. Actually, only the horns and the cloven hooves were missing.

No one knew his real name. He was only the Portuguese because he supposedly came from a country called Portugal. Gianna had, however, heard her parents talking about it. Her mother doubted that this far-away country called Portugal would exist at all. She rather believed that the guest was only pretending to be coming from far away, because he had committed any crime and now was hunted by the law.

But he paid on time - and twice as much as other guests, her husband had replied. This answer had terminated the discussion. The hosts needed the money urgently.

Come on, Gianna! What are you waiting for? the host shouted at his daughter.

Gianna went away from the sinister stranger with shyness and ran up the stairs to the upper floor. At the very end of the hallway was the room of the Portuguese. Gianna knocked.

Enough food I have! the Portuguese called through the door. Everything enough! He was difficult to understand, but  in the meantime, Gianna got somewhat used to his way to speak, so normally, she could understand him.

The man who always visits you has just arrived! Gianna said. Some noise could be heard from behind the door. Probably he was putting his things to the side. Gianna already knew that. Before opening the door when she brought him a meal, he always rummaged around for several moments. Once she had seen several open books and parchments scattered on the table. Gianna saw strange characters that had no resemblance to the letters and numbers she had to memorize in school.

Therefore, she feared that the stranger perhaps was a sorcerer who was occupied with black magic and performed some witch rituals by the help of those characters. Her heartbeat crazily pounded when the Portuguese finally opened the door. The look in his dark eyes was penetrating and let Gianna tremble with fear.

He looked tired, which was not surprising, because the light in his window often burned late at night.

What did you say? he asked, Gianna repeated her message: that someone was waiting for him on the bottom of the taproom.

The Portuguese narrowed his eyes. His bushy eyebrows seemed particularly scary now. Tell him to come up to me!

Gianna swallowed.

Yes, sir.

Chapter 2: The Sorcerer of the village inn

Carlo’s parents ran a small retail shop at the end of the village. It occupied the whole bottom floor of the small house where the family lived. Once a week father Cesare Maldini drove to Florence by horse and cart, from where he then returned with goods and news the following day. The next day when Carlo came home from school, his father was sitting at the table which stood in the midst of the store. Goods were everywhere, goods brought from Florence by Cesare Maldini. Bales of cloth as well as pitchers and tools.

Cesare Maldini was poring over a list and Carlo would have preferred to leave the room at once again when he saw it, because he knew exactly what would come now. But it was too late. His father had seen him.

Ah, that's a good thing you're here! he said. Come here, summarize these amounts please!

Carlo sighed. Actually, he wanted to visit Leonardo after school where he had been for whole two hours. Leonardo had gone to school for only two years. He had begun together with Carlo and Gianna, the daughter of the host. But first, the teachers couldn’t stand the constant questioning and the strange ideas Leonardo offered them – he drove them mad because he was a constant menace and secondly, probably no one was prepared or able to pay the school fees for Leonardo. In moments like these, Carlo wanted to be at Leonardo's place, because then he could not be forced by his father to perform those difficult bills. Probably he would have to spend half the afternoon here!

Come on Carlo, why do I send you to school?! his father said. Why should I pay all that money? Of course, so that you can continue my business one day and for this reason, you need the capability of calculating! How else you will know if somebody is cheating? Or if a business is worth, anyway?

Yes, yes, murmured Carlo.

He knew by heart what would come now. It was always the same litany. Cesare Maldini tried to explain how privileged he was because he could go to school. Father Maldini was forced to break up school early because his father died, and then, not enough money had been left to pay the school fee. And your mother - she was a peasant girl. Beautiful - but she has never seen a school from the inside, Cesare continued, waving his arms around in the air. Your mother and I have often regretted that we don’t know better how to write and arithmetic. What matters is that you can calculate! And as you live from our business as we do, it’s not asking too much that you do your very best and summarize these amounts. I am sure this can’t be too difficult.

Carlo realized that probably there was no way out.

All right, he sighed.

He sat down at the table and looked at the amount. In his head, he already began to calculate, but there was something else his father wanted to discuss with him.

Last night you came home very late, Carlo.

I was with Leonardo, I told mother.

I know. And that is the point to which I am getting. For my taste, you're much too often with this strange guy. His mother is already worried about him. She came this morning to buy a hoe.

Carlo knew that Leonardo's mother had been a maid who later married a farmer from the area. Leonardo's father was Ser Piero d'Antonio, a notary from Vinci. Early Leonardo's parents had come to the conclusion that it was the best when his grandfather took care of him, who had, moreover, been willing to do so. Now, some people asked themselves if the old man perhaps granted his grandson a little too much freedom.

The poor old man, Carlo’s father now said. I've heard that Leonardo has poisoned several of his chickens when he gave them seeds, which he had soaked into some self-mixed tincture which was said to make the animals lay more eggs.

That was a misunderstanding, said Carlo. Leonardo didn’t intend that.

"A misunderstanding, you say? But in spite of this, the chickens are dead and his grandfather had to slaughter them all at once!

This boy is crazy!"

No, he's not crazy, contradicted Carlo. He just has a lot of ideas and always finds something new to explore.

That's the problem, said Cesare. "These confused ideas. Machines which are useless but could hurt someone at best, healing tinctures which kill chickens, experiments which mostly cause damage ... I'm worried that one day, you also will develop such fantasies, do you understand?

But one day these working machines might exist, exactly like Leonardo imagines, said Carlo.

Do you see what I mean! The machines, of which you told me, will never be real - but you'll dream of such devilish stuff and that will distract you from exerting yourself in school and getting your life together! One day you might even have such crazy ideas.

But Carlo shook his head. At this point, you can rest assured, Father, he said.

Oh yes?

Such ideas as Leonardo I will probably never have! He was perfectly sure.

For Carlo’s taste it took far too long until he has finally finished the calculations and was allowed to leave the house. His father still had some concerns because of the bad influence which the daydreamer Leonardo could have on his son, but finally gave way.

And so Carlo went to the other side of the place where the house of Leonardo's grandfather was.

The road was still very muddy by the downpour yesterday. Probably it would also remain a few days like this. Carlo tried to stay at the edge. Although this time he went barefoot, so there were no shoes he could spot, he nevertheless did not want to sink deeply so that his legs were affected. When reaching the house of Leonardo's grandfather, he knocked on the door.

Come in, said a rough, hoarse voice.

Carlo entered. A tall, gray-haired man looked at him. Since his wife died, he was seen in Vinci as something strange. Some doubted that he was able to educate a boy like Leonardo and there was a lot of talk and whispers about both.

You go up, Carlo! said the grandfather. You know where to find Leonardo.

Yes.

Carlo went to the stairs and had covered the first three steps to the floor as the voice of the grandfather stopped him again. Listen Carlo – please take care that no mischief happens, will you?

Carlo swallowed. I'll do what I can, he promised, and the grandfather had to smile.

I know that it is difficult to stop something when he has taken it into his head, but if he does listen to someone, it’s you! He sighed heavily. Something like with the chickens I really don’t want to experience soon again! So consider what you do!

Carlo walked up the stairs and entered Leonardo's room a little later. Just before entering, he heard voices from behind the door. First, he thought that Leonardo began to talk to himself. Perhaps my father is right then and he's really on the way to becoming crazy, he thought.

But when he came through the door, he saw that his friend was not alone. Gianna was with him, the daughter of the host. Carlo greeted them briefly and then looked questioningly over to Leonardo.

I need your help, Leonardo, she said. Yesterday, this strange horseman was again in Vinci ...

I've seen him, Carlo interrupted. And Leonardo, too.

It was the same as last time. The stranger wanted to visit the Portuguese. My father told me to inform him. I’ve also brought him the meals, often enough. He always opens the door to his room slightly, so you cannot see anything.

But anyway, you have seen a bit in spite of this, suspected Leonardo.

Yes. The Portuguese has quite strange, thick books and large rolls of parchment with strange symbols on it. He did not observe me when I was catching a glimpse of them.

Leonardo did not seem to be on the ball. He had put several jugs on the table, which were located in the middle of the room. In each of these jugs there was any kind of substance Leonardo wanted to keep. Sometimes single organs of animals which he had cut in pieces and needed for experiments.

And how shall I help you now? asked Leonardo.

I have to find out what is the Portuguese is getting up in his room! There must be something that is not right, or he would not mind that one knows it!

Maybe this guest would just like to be alone, said Leonardo, who seemed to have little desire to take care of the matter. He knew Gianna from an early age and earlier the girl had accompanied the two boys sometimes when Leonardo led them into the surrounding forest to uncover some great mystery which had been hidden there. But after everyone had been stung badly when trying to explore a hornet's nest, she had not taken part in these excursions furthermore.

I fear that the Portuguese truly is a sorcerer, Gianna brought out now. But if that was true, then my parents could be prosecuted because they have granted him shelter. Probably he had been brought to trial elsewhere and had to flee.

Did you talk to your parents about this suspicion? asked Carlo.

Of course, again and again! exclaimed Gianna. But especially my father sees only the money the stranger regularly pays. That he may be picked up soon to be interrogated about the Portuguese, he does not want to admit!

Honestly, I would like to dissect the lizard now, Leonardo said. Yesterday I only treated the bird because it was too disgusting for Carlo to help me. Indeed, it is not so easy, the individual ...

Uh, I do not want to hear it! Gianna interjected. Keep that to yourself, please, I have bad dreams about it!

Leonardo shrugged. There is only one way to find out more about the structure of a body. You have to look into it. Unfortunately, you cannot see the organs in function, as the animal is already dead!

Well I am your friend, but I will continue to refuse to join in things like that, Carlo said with nearly solemn seriousness. So do not count on me in the future concerning such things.

You are not curious to know how a body is built from the inside?

Yes - but not so curious like you, Leonardo.

Leonardo sighed. Friends! If you need them most, they let you down!

And what about you? I need help and the only things you’re thinking about are the innards of this stupid lizard! Gianna went on disappointed. I thought you could possibly help me! What on earth will happen to me and my little sister if my parents are arrested?

Leonardo put away one of the jugs into which he had just looked very interestedly and which produced an extraordinarily bad smell – and for the first time he fully attended to Gianna.

Calm down, just because this Portuguese is a little strange, he does not necessarily have to be a sorcerer. If he is one yet, so no one will learn about it, because he lives very isolated.

You know exactly how fast rumors spread. Carlo’s father goes to Florence once a week and while traveling, he stops in each small village. Everyone knows how talkative he is and I assume that the rumors about the Portuguese have already spread in this way in the whole area!

It’s all we need now that you give me the fault if your parents would be arrested because they were so interested in money that they were willing to accommodate a servant of Satan! Carlo defended himself furiously.

It's just not everyone as wealthy as your father, who would certainly not need the money! replied Gianna. While between Carlo and Gianna a brief dispute began, Leonardo seemed absent. He seemed to be thinking about something.

I'll help you, Gianna, he finally said, ending abruptly the war of words between the other two. Gianna looked at Leonardo puzzled. Did she hear right? Why did the boy change his mind so quickly and completely?

You want to know whether this Portuguese performs any witch rituals in his room?

Exactly! Sometimes I do wonder whether he might have put a jinx on my parents, so that they do not realize the danger.

"I've told you that I will help you, Gianna, but then