Most of the lamps and torches in the narrow hallways of the monastery had been extinguished by the time Pietro Paletti made his way toward his cell on the second floor. Head bowed, hands folded at the rope belt around his waist, he padded softly across the stone tiles to the small chamber he had been assigned by Abbot Cisone upon his recent arrival at San Marco.
It was late in the evening and the few lamps still burning left only a disquieting semi-darkness in the hallways and small chapels along his path. At the monastery, night prayers – compline – had just ended and the monks were retreating to their private quarters to pray in silence and beg forgiveness for past sins and forbearance for future weaknesses.
compline – Pietro reached his cell, gently swung the wooden door closed, and f
