—Leonardo da Vinci, The Notebooks of Delfina della Fazia Tito glanced side to side, as if to reassure himself no one was listening. Lowering his voice further, he went on in an urgent tone. “I told you that my uncle was a soldier. I have learned much from him, and I fear this subterfuge will be found out. And if it is not, I am certain that the duke will not release the Master back to us, no matter that he thinks an army waits outside his walls.” “That may be,” I agreed, “but if that happens, Il Moro’s true army will eventually arrive to take our place.” Tito shook his head. “But don’t you see? For all that the castle appears in disrepair, it has withstood many attacks before. They have a fine well and stores enough to last a long siege. Do you truly think Il Moro will want to spend weeks—or even months—waging war simply to rescue the Master and your father?” “But the flying machine—” “—is of no import,” he exclaimed, cutting my argument short.
