Monna Vittoria de' Pazzi. Desperation loaned him extraordinary
eloquence (as he complacently reflected) in addressing this obdurate
woman, who had held out against his love-making for six weeks now.
15.
_How Perion Fought_
Demetrios and Perion, by the quick turn of fortune previously recorded,
were allied against all Christendom. They got arms at the Hôtel
d'Ebelin, and they rode out of the city of Megaris, where the bonfires
lighted over-night in Perion's honour were still smouldering, amid loud
execrations. Fra Battista had not delayed to spread the news of King
Theodoret's dilemma. The burghers yelled menaces; but, knowing that an
endeavour to constrain the passage of these champions would prove
unwholesome for at least a dozen of the arrestors, they cannily
confined their malice to a vocal demonstration.
Demetrios rode unhelmeted, intending that these snarling little people
of Megaris should plainly see the man whom they most feared and hated.
It was Perion who spoke first. They had passed the city walls, and had
mounted the hill which leads toward the Forest of Sannazaro. Their road
lay through a rocky pass above which the leaves of spring were like
sparse traceries on a blue cupola, for April had not come as yet.
"I meant," said Perion, "to hold you as the ransom of Dame Melicent. I
fear that is impossible. I, who am a landless man, have neither
servitors nor any castle wherein to retain you as a prisoner. I
earnestly desire to kill you, forthwith, in single combat; but when
your son Orestes knows that you are dead he will, so you report, kill
Melicent. And yet it may be you are lying."
Perion was of a tall imperious person, and accustomed to command. He
had black hair, grey eyes which challenged you, and a thin pleasant
face which was not pleasant now.
"You know that I am not a coward--." Demetrios began.
"Indeed," said Perion, "I believe you to be the hardiest warrior in the
world."
"Therefore I may without dishonour repeat to you that my death involves
the death of Melicent. Orestes hates her for his mother's sake. I
think, now we have fought so often, that each of us knows I do not fear
death. I grant I had Flamberge to wield, a magic weapon--" Demetrios
shook himself, like a dog coming from the water, for to consider an
extraneous invincibility was nauseous. "However! I who am Demetrios
protest I will not fight with you, that I will accept any insult rather
than risk my life in any quarrel extant, because I know the moment that
Orestes has made certain I am no longer to be feared he will take
vengeance on Dame Melicent."
"Prove this!" said Perion, and with deliberation he struck Demetrios.
Full in the face he struck the swart proconsul, and in the ensuing
silence you could hear a feeble breeze that strayed about the
tree-tops, but you could hear nothing else. And Perion, strong man, the
willing scourge of heathendom, had half a mind to weep.
Demetrios had not moved a finger. It was appalling. The proconsul's
countenance had throughout the hue of wood-ashes, but his fixed eyes
were like blown embers.
"I believe that it is proved," said Demetrios, "since both of us are
still alive." He whispered this.
"In fact the thing is settled," Perion agreed. "I know that nothing
save your love for Melicent could possibly induce you to decline a
proffered battle. When Demetrios enacts the poltroon I am the most
hasty of all men living to assert that the excellency of his reason is
indisputable. Let us get on! I have only five hundred sequins, but this
will be enough to buy your passage back to Quesiton. And inasmuch as we
are near the coast--"
"I think some others mean to have a spoon in that broth," Demetrios
returned. "For look, messire!" Perion saw that far beneath them a
company of retainers in white and purple were spurring up the hill. "It
is Duke Sigurd's livery," said Perion.
Demetrios forthwith interpreted and was amused by their common ruin. He
said, grinning:
"Pious Theodoret has sworn a truce of twenty-four hours, and in
consequence might not send any of his own lackeys after us. But there
was nothing to prevent the dropping of a hint into the ear of his
brother in-law, because you servitors of Christ excel in these
distinctions."
"This is hardly an opportunity for theological debate," Perion
considered. "And for the rest, time presses. It is your instant
business to escape." He gave his tiny bag of gold to his chief enemy.
"Make for Narenta. It is a free city and unfriendly to Theodoret. If I
survive I will come presently and fight with you for Melicent."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," Demetrios equably returned. "Am I the
person to permit the man whom I most hate--you who have struck me and
yet live!--to fight alone against some twenty adversaries! Oh, no, I
shall remain, since after all, there are only twenty."
"I was mistaken in you," Perion replied, "for I had thought you loved
Dame Melicent as I do. I find too late that you would estimate your
private honour as set against her welfare."
The two men looked upon each other. Long and long they looked, and the
heart of each was elated. "I comprehend," Demetrios said. He clapped
spurs to his horse and fled as a coward would have fled. This was one
occasion in his life when he overcame his pride, and should in
consequence be noted.
The heart of Perion was glad.
"Oh, but at times," said Perion, "I wish that I might honourably love
this infamous and lustful pagan."
Afterward Perion wheeled and met Duke Sigurd's men. Then like a reaper
cutting a field of wheat Sire Perion showed the sun his sword and went
about his work, not without harvesting.
In that narrow way nothing could be heard but the striking of blows on
armour and the clash of swords which bit at one another. The Comte de
la Forêt, for once, allowed himself the privilege of fighting in anger.
He went without a word toward this hopeless encounter, as a drunkard to
his bottle. First Perion killed Ruggiero of the Lamberti and after that
Perion raged as a wolf harrying sheep. Six other stalwart men he cut
down, like a dumb maniac among tapestries. His horse was slain and lay
blocking the road, making a barrier behind which Perion fought. Then
Perion encountered Giacomo di Forio, and while the two contended Gulio
the Red very warily cast his sword like a spear so that it penetrated
Perion's left shoulder and drew much blood. This hampered the lone
champion. Marzio threw a stone which struck on Perion's crest and broke
the fastenings of Perion's helmet. Instantly Giacomo gave him three
wounds, and Perion stumbled, the sunlight glossing his hair. He fell
and they took him. They robbed the corpses of their surcoats, which
they tore in strips. They made ropes of this bloodied finery, and with
these ropes they bound Perion of the Forest, whom twenty men had
conquered at last.
He laughed feebly, like a person bedrugged; but in the midst of this
superfluous defiance Perion swooned because of many injuries. He knew
that with fair luck Demetrios had a sufficient start. The heart of
Perion exulted, thinking that Melicent was saved.
It was the happier for him he was not ever destined to comprehend the
standards of Demetrios.
16.
_How Demetrios Meditated_
Demetrios came without any hindrance into Narenta, a free city. He
believed his Emperor must have sent galleys toward Christendom to get
tidings of his generalissimo, but in this city of merchants Demetrios
heard no report of them. Yet in the harbour he found a trading-ship
prepared for traffic in the country of the pagans; the sail was naked
to the wind, the anchor chain was already shortened at the bow.
Demetrios bargained with the captain of this vessel, and in the outcome
paid him four hundred sequins. In exchange the man agreed to touch at
the Needle of Ansignano that afternoon and take Demetrios aboard. Since
the proconsul had no passport, he could not with safety endeavour to
elude those officers of the Tribunal who must endorse the ship's
passage at Piaja.
Thus about sunset Demetrios waited the ship's coming, alone upon the
Needle. This promontory is like a Titan's finger of black rock thrust
out into the water. The day was perishing, and the querulous sea before
Demetrios was an unresting welter of gold and blood.
He thought of how he had won safely through a horde of dangers, and the
gross man chuckled. He considered that unquestioned rulership of every
person near Demetrios which awaited him oversea, and chiefly he thought
of Melicent whom he loved even better than he did the power to sneer at
everything the world contained. And the proconsul chuckled.
He said, aloud:
"I owe very much to Messire de la Forêt. I owe far more than I can
estimate. For, by this, those lackeys will have slain Messire de la
Forêt or else they will have taken Messire de la Forêt to King
Theodoret, who will piously make an end of this handsome idiot. Either
way, I shall enjoy tranquillity and shall possess my Melicent until I
die. Decidedly, I owe a deal to this self-satisfied tall fool."
Thus he contended with his irritation. It may be that the man was never
sane; it is certain that the mainspring of his least action was an
inordinate pride. Now hatred quickened, spreading from a flicker of
distaste; and his faculties were stupefied, as though he faced a
girdling conflagration. It was not possible to hate adequately this
Perion who had struck Demetrios of Anatolia and perhaps was not yet
dead; nor could Demetrios think of any sufficing requital for this
Perion who dared to be so tall and handsome and young-looking when
Demetrios was none of these things, for this Perion whom Melicent had
loved and loved to-day. And Demetrios of Anatolia had fought with a
charmed sword against a person such as this, safe as an angler matched
against a minnow; Demetrios of Anatolia, now at the last, accepted alms
from what had been until to-day a pertinacious gnat. Demetrios was
physically shaken by disgust at the situation, and in the sunset's
glare his swarthy countenance showed like that of Belial among the
damned.
"The life of Melicent hangs on my safe return to Nacumera.... Ey, what
is that to me!" the proconsul cried aloud. "The thought of Melicent is
sweeter than the thought of any god. It is not sweet enough to bribe me
into living as this Perion's debtor."
So when the ship touched at the Needle, a half-hour later, that spur of
rock was vacant. Demetrios had untethered his horse, had thrown away
his sword and other armour, and had torn his garments; afterward he
rolled in the first puddle he discovered. Thus he set out afoot, in
grimy rags--for no one marks a beggar upon the highway--and thus he
came again into the realm of King Theodoret, where certainly nobody
looked for Demetrios to come unarmed.
With the advantage of a quiet advent, as was quickly proven, he found
no check for a notorious leave-taking.
17.
_How a Minstrel Came_
Demetrios came to Megaris where Perion lay fettered in the Castle of
San' Alessandro, then a new building. Perion's trial, condemnation, and
so on, had consumed the better part of an hour, on account of the
drunkenness of one of the Inquisitors, who had vexatiously impeded
these formalities by singing love-songs; but in the end it had been
salutarily arranged that the Comte de la Forêt be torn apart by four
horses upon the St. Richard's day ensuing.
Demetrios, having gleaned this knowledge in a pothouse, purchased a
stout file, a scarlet cap and a lute. Ambrogio Bracciolini, head-gaoler
at the fortress--so the gossips told Demetrios--had been a jongleur in
youth, and minstrels were always welcome guests at San' Alessandro.
The gaoler was a very fat man with icy little eyes. Demetrios took his
measure to a hair's breadth as this Bracciolini straddled in the
doorway.
Demetrios had assumed an admirable air of simplicity.
"God give you joy, messire," he said, with a simper; "I come bringing a
precious balsam which cures all sorts of ills, and heals the troubles
both of body and mind. For what is better than to have a pleasant
companion to sing and tell merry tales, songs and facetious histories?"
"You appear to be something of a fool," Bracciolini considered, "but
all do not sleep who snore. Come, tell me what are your
accomplishments."
"I can play the lute, the violin, the flageolet, the harp, the syrinx
and the regals," the other replied; "also the Spanish penola that is
struck with a quill, the organistrum that a wheel turns round, the wait
so delightful, the rebeck so enchanting, the little gigue that chirps
up on high, and the great horn that booms like thunder."
Bracciolini said:
"That is something. But can you throw knives into the air and catch
them without cutting your fingers? Can you balance chairs and do tricks
with string? or imitate the cries of birds? or throw a somersault and
walk on your head? Ha, I thought not. The Gay Science is dying out, and
young practitioners neglect these subtile points. It was not so in my
day. However, you may come in."
So when night fell Demetrios and Bracciolini sat snug and sang of love,
of joy, and arms. The fire burned bright, and the floor was well
covered with gaily tinted mats. White wines and red were on the table.
Presently they turned to canzons of a more indecorous nature. Demetrios
sang the loves of Douzi and Ishtar, which the gaoler found remarkable.
He said so and crossed himself. "Man, man, you must have been afishing
in the mid-pit of hell to net such filth."
"I learned that song in Nacumera," said Demetrios, "when I was a
prisoner there with Messire de la Forêt. It was a favourite song with
him."
"Ay?" said Bracciolini. He looked at Demetrios very hard, and
Bracciolini pursed his lips as if to whistle. The gaoler scented from
afar a bribe, but the face of Demetrios was all vacant cheerfulness.
Bracciolini said, idly:
"So you served under him? I remember that he was taken by the heathen.
A woman ransomed him, they say."
Demetrios, able to tell a tale against any man, told now the tale of
Melicent's immolation, speaking with vivacity and truthfulness in all
points save that he represented himself to have been one of the
ransomed Free Companions.
Bracciolini's careful epilogue was that the proconsul had acted
foolishly in not keeping the emeralds.
"He gave his enemy a weapon against him," Bracciolini said, and waited.
"Oh, but that weapon was never used. Sire Perion found service at once,
under King Bernart, you will remember. Therefore Sire Perion hid away
these emeralds against future need--under an oak in Sannazaro, he told
me. I suppose they lie there yet."
"Humph!" said Bracciolini. He for a while was silent. Demetrios sat
adjusting the strings of the lute, not looking at him.
Bracciolini said, "There were eighteen of them, you tell me? and all
fine stones?"
"Ey?--oh, the emeralds? Yes, they were flawless, messire. The smallest
was larger than a robin's egg. But I recall another song we learned at
Nacumera--"
Demetrios sang the loves of Lucius and Fotis. Bracciolini grunted,
"Admirable" in an abstracted fashion, muttered something about the
duties of his office, and left the room. Demetrios heard him lock the
door outside and waited stolidly.
Presently Bracciolini returned in full armour, a naked sword in his
hand.
"My man,"--and his voice rasped--"I believe you to be a rogue. I
believe that you are contriving the escape of this infamous Comte de la
Forêt. I believe you are attempting to bribe me into conniving at
his escape. I shall do nothing of the sort, because, in the first
place, it would be an abominable violation of my oath of office, and in
the second place, it would result in my being hanged."
"Messire, I swear to you--!" Demetrios cried, in excellently feigned
perturbation.
"And in addition, I believe you have lied to me throughout. I do not
believe you ever saw this Comte de la Forêt. I very certainly do not
believe you are a friend of this Comte de la Forêt's, because in
that event you would never have been mad enough to admit it. The
statement is enough to hang you twice over. In short, the only thing I
can be certain of is that you are out of your wits."
"They say that I am moonstruck," Demetrios answered; "but I will tell
you a secret. There is a wisdom lies beyond the moon, and it is because
of this that the stars are glad and admirable."
"That appears to me to be nonsense," the gaoler commented; and he went
on: "Now I am going to confront you with Messire de la Forêt. If your
story prove to be false, it will be the worse for you."
"It is a true tale. But sensible men close the door to him who always
speaks the truth."
"These reflections are not to the purpose," Bracciolini submitted, and
continued his argument: "In that event Messire de la Forêt will
undoubtedly be moved by your fidelity in having sought out him whom all
the rest of the world has forsaken. You will remember that this same
fidelity has touched me to such an extent that I am granting you an
interview with your former master. Messire de la Forêt will naturally
reflect that a man once torn in four pieces has no particular use for
emeralds. He will, I repeat, be moved. In his emotion, in his
gratitude, in mere decency, he will reveal to you the location of those
eighteen stones, all flawless. If he should not evince a sufficiency of
such appropriate and laudable feeling, I tell you candidly, it will be
the worse for you. And now get on!"
Bracciolini pointed the way and Demetrios cringed through the door.
Bracciolini followed with drawn sword. The corridors were deserted. The
head-gaoler had seen to that.
His position was simple. Armed, he was certainly not afraid of any
combination between a weaponless man and a fettered one. If this
jongleur had lied, Bracciolini meant to kill him for his insolence.
Bracciolini's own haphazard youth had taught him that a jongleur had no
civil rights, was a creature to be beaten, robbed, or stabbed with
impunity.
Upon the other hand, if the vagabond's tale were true, one of two
things would happen. Either Perion would not be brought to tell where
the emeralds were hidden, in which event Bracciolini would kill the
jongleur for his bungling; or else the prisoner would tell everything
necessary, in which event Bracciolini would kill the jongleur for
knowing more than was convenient. This Bracciolini had an honest
respect for gems and considered them to be equally misplaced when under
an oak or in a vagabond's wallet.
Consideration of such avarice may well have heartened Demetrios when
the well-armoured gaoler knelt in order to unlock the door of Perion's
cell. As an asp leaps, the big and supple hands of the proconsul
gripped Bracciolini's neck from behind, and silenced speech.
Demetrios, who was not tall, lifted the gaoler as high as possible,
lest the beating of armoured feet upon the slabs disturb any of the
other keepers, and Demetrios strangled his dupe painstakingly. The
keys, as Demetrios reflected, were luckily attached to the belt of this
writhing thing, and in consequence had not jangled on the floor. It was
an inaudible affair and consumed in all some ten minutes. Then with the
sword of Bracciolini Demetrios cut Bracciolini's throat. In such
matters Demetrios was thorough.
18.
_How They Cried Quits_
Demetrios went into Perion's cell and filed away the chains of Perion
of the Forest. Demetrios thrust the gaoler's corpse under the bed, and
washed away all stains before the door of the cell, so that no awkward
traces might remain. Demetrios locked the door of an unoccupied
apartment and grinned as Old Legion must have done when Judas fell.
More thanks to Bracciolini's precautions, these two got safely from the
confines of San' Alessandro, and afterward from the city of Megaris.
They trudged on a familiar road. Perion would have spoken, but
Demetrios growled, "Not now, messire." They came by night to that pass
in Sannazaro which Perion had held against a score of men-at-arms.
Demetrios turned. Moonlight illuminated the warriors' faces and showed
the face of Demetrios as sly and leering. It was less the countenance
of a proud lord than a carved head on some old waterspout.
"Messire de la Forêt," Demetrios said, "now we cry quits. Here our ways
part till one of us has killed the other, as one of us must surely do."
You saw that Perion was tremulous with fury. "You knave," he said,
"because of your pride you have imperilled your accursed life--your
life on which the life of Melicent depends! You must need delay and
rescue me, while your spawn inflicted hideous infamies on Melicent! Oh,
I had never hated you until to-night!"
Demetrios was pleased.
"Behold the increment," he said, "of the turned cheek and of the
contriving of good for him that had despitefully used me! Be satisfied,
O young and zealous servitor of Love and Christ. I am alone, unarmed
and penniless, among a people whom I have never been at pains even to
despise. Presently I shall be taken by this vermin, and afterward I
shall be burned alive. Theodoret is quite resolved to make of me a
candle which will light his way to heaven."
"That is true," said Perion; "and I cannot permit that you be killed by
anyone save me, as soon as I can afford to kill you."
The two men talked together, leagued against entire Christendom.
Demetrios had thirty sequins and Perion no money at all. Then Perion
showed the ring which Melicent had given him, as a love-token, long
ago, when she was young and ignorant of misery. He valued it as he did
nothing else.
Perion said:
"Oh, very dear to me is this dear ring which once touched a finger of
that dear young Melicent whom you know nothing of! Its gold is my lost
youth, the gems of it are the tears she has shed because of me. Kiss
it, Messire Demetrios, as I do now for the last time. It is a favour
you have earned."
Then these two went as mendicants--for no one marks a beggar upon the
highway--into Narenta, and they sold this ring, in order that Demetrios
might be conveyed oversea, and that the life of Melicent might be
preserved. They found another vessel which was about to venture into
heathendom. Their gold was given to the captain; and, in exchange, the
bargain ran, his ship would touch at Assignano, a little after the
ensuing dawn, and take Demetrios aboard.
Thus the two lovers of Melicent foreplanned the future, and did not
admit into their accounting vagarious Dame Chance.
19.
_How Flamberge Was Lost_
These hunted men spent the following night upon the Needle, since there
it was not possible for an adversary to surprise them. Perion's was the
earlier watch, until midnight, and during this time Demetrios slept.
Then the proconsul took his equitable turn. When Perion awakened the
hour was after dawn.
What Perion noted first, and within thirty feet of him, was a tall
galley with blue and yellow sails. He perceived that the promontory was
thronged with heathen sailors, who were unlading the ship of various
bales and chests. Demetrios, now in the costume of his native country,
stood among them giving orders. And it seemed, too, to Perion, in the
moment of waking, that Dame Mélusine, whom Perion had loved so long
ago, also stood among them; yet, now that Perion rose and faced
Demetrios, she was not visible anywhere, and Perion wondered dimly over
his wild dream that she had been there at all. But more importunate
matters were in hand.
The proconsul grinned malevolently.
"This is a ship that once was mine," he said. "Do you not find it droll
that Euthyclos here should have loved me sufficiently to hazard his
life in order to come in search of me? Personally, I consider it
preposterous. For the rest, you slept so soundly, Messire de la Forêt,
that I was unwilling to waken you. Then, too, such was the advice of a
person who has some influence with the waterfolk, people say, and who
was perhaps the means of bringing this ship hither so opportunely. I do
not know. She is gone now, you see, intent as always on her own ends.
Well, well! her ways are not our ways, and it is wiser not to meddle
with them."
But Perion, unarmed and thus surrounded, understood only that he was
lost.
"Messire Demetrios," said Perion, "I never thought to ask a favour of
you. I ask it now. For the ring's sake, give me at least a knife,
Messire Demetrios. Let me die fighting."