The Royal Pawn of Venice

by Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull

  XXIV

  The immediate liberation of the Queen had seemed a well-nigh hopelessquest to the body of brave men who were on their way to Famagosta, topledge the loyalty of their city of Nikosia, so soon as news of theconspiracy had been proclaimed, and they had deemed it rather to be wonby strategy than prowess. For the Cyprian forces were few and werechiefly intrenched in the fortress of Famagosta--the most formidable ofall the strongholds of Cyprus--leaving no trained men at arms in thecity itself, which thus lay unprotected, close under the vigilance ofthe now hostile Citadel, whose commander, Saplana, had been a favoriteof the King but was now among the traitors. The Count of Tripoli wasforemost among the leaders of this intrigue and he was Governor of thecity of Famagosta! And scattered among this Cyprian corps to see theorders enforced, was a band of mercenaries _brought from Naples byRizzo_!

  The situation in Famagosta had been briefly indicated in the despatchwhich the courier of Bernardini had urged his spent and panting steed todeliver in Nikosia; there were also certain dark hints of rumors currentamong the outraged populace, that Rizzo, Chief-of-the-Council appointedto help the Queen, might soon be master of all the strongholds of theisland, having forced letters from the Queen commanding their surrenderto the envoys of the Chief-of-Council.

  Outside the cities news travels slowly, as all men know. For along thehighways there are no marke-places whence it may be proclaimed--there isno eager populace to tell it from mouth to mouth, and these treacherousorders might even reach the forts and be obeyed in all good faith, bytheir Commanders before they could have any suspicion of the revolt ofthe Council.

  Of the wisdom and foresight of the Queen's Venetian Chamberlain theAdmiral had ample proof; since the Bernardini's message of alarm, sentthe night before the mutiny, had arrived only a few hours before it hadbeen followed by his second despatch, in swift and terriblejustification.

  Because of these rumors Mutio di Costanzo, Admiral of Cyprus, hadordered messages of warning sent to the chief citadels, as he had beenable, before he left Nikosia; and also because of them, he rode to-daywith a so scanty following not having dared to leave any points ofvantage without sufficient guard.

  He turned and surveyed his little band of Knights with frowningbrows--his invincible Knights of the Golden Spurs--they seemed so few inthe face of the perplexities of his problem.

  Not that any thought of personal danger for himself or for them, in thefew against the many, entered into his difficulties; but that the factsmade failure a possibility; and there must be no failure.

  He raised his visor and each man saw his leader's face as the face of aconqueror.

  "_Coraggio_, Signori!" he cried; "our cause is just! God and SanGiovanni make strong our arms!"

  Well might he be proud of this noble company pressing forward silently,but with quickening pace, at sight of the urgency in their leader'sface.

  No noble house of Cyprus could boast more ancient lineage, nor so manyknights entitled to wear the golden spurs, nor more honorable trophiesof the valor dear to knightly hearts. They rode all in full armor, somebearing their famous shields of crimson with the quaint heraldic lionrampant on his golden bar--the device which all men knew had beengranted them for extraordinary proof of prowess centuries before.

  For this noble family the ancient city of Costanza had been named; andthe quaint church of Santa Maria di Costanza, rich in relics and indecoration, had been the private chapel of their historic Castle.

  To the assuring rhythm of their strenuous tramp the Admiral turned againto his unsolved problems. For the galleys of Cyprus had hitherto beenkept armed by force, but recently their crews had been disbanded, inobedience to a strange clause in the will of King Janus. Now, as Mutiodi Costanzo went on his way, wrapped in meditations that were notcheering, the question came to him--"_Why?_"

  Janus, whatever his gifts, had been no judge of men--possibly from toostrong reliance in his own power to conquer them by his personal charm.Had this disbanding been deftly suggested to the facile King by hisfriend, the arch-schemer of Naples?

  Was the wily Rizzo, even in those days, planning to leave Cyprusdefenceless?

  The Admiral gnashed his teeth and sent up a smothered cry to all thesaints that his wrath might not unnerve him to the point of losing hisiron grip upon himself.

  But the situation was not rendered less galling by the reflection thatthe port of Famagosta--the sole harbor of importance in the island--wascovered by the citadel commanded by a traitor; that just within the porta galley flaunting the colors of Naples, rode complacently; and thatthere were no longer any Cyprian ships-of-war ready for attack.

  But retribution must be near; for he knew that Bernardini had sentwarning followed by immediate details of the revolt, by secretmessengers, concealed in trading-ships to the Venetian fleet off theAfrican coast, and strong help must be at hand. To risk failure by apremature attack, for want of patience to endure a temporary disgrace,would be unmanly weakness. The Madonna be praised, the Chamberlain ofthe Queen was a man of resource; the people of the cities were devotedto her, and the end might be nearer than seemed possible.

  The Admiral was impatient for the conference with Bernardini who hadimplored him to come without delay.

  "At all hazards we shall hold the city-gate," the Chamberlain hadwritten in the first hours of that dark dawn. "With citadel and port incommand of the traitors and the Queen in their keeping, this post mayhave no importance in their eyes. _But our help must come fromwithout._"

  And now the little band of faithful knights were coming in sight of thecity-walls--massive and splendid--a monument to the Lusignans.

  "For our Queen and Cyprus!" the Admiral said solemnly, his hand upon hissword.

  The tone of the utterance made it a command.

  "So help us God our Seigneur, and San Giovanni!" the knights answeredhim in a breath, nerving themselves to attack and success: but they camesilently and with no sounds of battle--by order of their chief--notknowing whether to expect welcome or conflict, or whether secrecy mightbe well.

  At the tramp of their horses' feet the warden had advanced to the grilleof reconnoitre and withdrawn the small stone shutter for inspection; hishead appeared behind the bars, but he wore no tell-tale colors:

  "Open! in the name of the Queen! to Her Majesty's faithful vassals!"

  The Admiral spoke low--for secrecy might be the very discretion ofvalor: but fearlessly, for the words were a signal, and every knightstood ready.

  "Who challengeth? Speak low."

  Was it the word of caution, or a ruse de guerre?

  "One of Nikosia."

  The Admiral gave the password which Bernardini had sent in that hastynote, and listened, trembling as a brave man may with impatience to bewithin and at his post of duty, while one by one the bolts werewithdrawn, the portcullises were raised, and the signal to advance wasgiven--quite silently: the finger of the guard who had been detailed toaccompany them, was upon his lips.

  Not until he had conducted them beyond, into the city, did he speak: "Weknow not what echoes there may be within those walls," he said, pointingback to the ponderous gateway with its many vaulted passages.

  Then impatient, the Admiral asked for news.

  "Your Excellencies are expected: the citizens await you:" it was said ina tone that meant more than courtesy: Mutio di Costanzo scanned himnarrowly.

  "From whom dost hold thy orders?" he asked.

  "From the Signor Bernardini, commander of the city," the man answeredreadily.

  "Then speak."

  "The Signor Bernardini hath this night rescued our infant Prince fromthe galley of Naples----" He supplemented the statement with an angryoath coupled with Rizzo's name. "We know not where our Signor hathhidden him."

  "And the Queen?"

  The guard shook his head.

  "The Signor hath waited for help to come: it is said that her rescuewill be this day. In the Palazzo Reale the guard hath been trebled forher defense, and every man would give his life for the Qu
een."

  "Is there more?"

  "Aye, your Excellency: rumor hath it that that devil of a Rizzo hathforced Her Majesty to give him letters of surrender for every fortressof Cyprus, and that to-day he is gone, with other traitors, to receivethe keys of all our citadels. _Panagia mou!_ he is capable of everytreachery! If he were not within----" He indicated the fortress with ascowl of hatred, then made a motion which seemed to include the entirecity and plant the people, resolute, before the windows of the Queen.

  "And the Governor of Famagosta?"

  "That traitor Tripoli is in the train of the scoundrel Rizzo, bothfaring forth for other treacheries, thinking us safe enough to leave,with those spies of Naples on guard." His sputtering curses chokedfurther speech.

  "It shall be _now_," said Mutio di Costanzo: "conduct us to the SignorBernardini"--yet wondering at the silence of the streets as he passed.

  "Your Excellency," said the guard once more, in answer to his question,"it is the order of the Bernardini who hath commanded quiet and hathpromised, on his life, to restore the Queen to her people."

  The hasty conference in the Palazzo Reale, developed the fact that thecitizens of Famagosta, too furious for any considerations of expediency,had been with difficulty restrained from storming the Citadel anddemanding the Queen's instant release: and now that any trained force,however small, was upon their side, the critical moment had come. Men,women and children flocked into the deserted streets and eagerlyfollowed the cavalcade of Knights to the Piazza San Nicolo, where thecrowd was increasing every moment; and when Bernardini and Mutio diCostanzo appeared among them, they were greeted with cheers and vivas.

  "Regina!"

  "Madonna Nostra Reale!"

  "Regina!"

  "_Subito! Subito!_"

  The cries startled the silence of the streets, and further restraint wasimpossible.

  * * * * *

  "_Regina! Madonna Nostra Reale! Subito!_"

  The city rang with their shouts--the voice of a multitude magnificent inrighteous emotion--from the gruff tones of the men of the populacehoarse with anger, to the strident cries and sobs of the women and thehigh treble of little children; and clear and calm throughout thechorus, the clarion-notes of command.

  The mighty sound penetrated to the depths of the Citadel, waking theCyprian force from its stupor of despondency, rousing the dormantmanhood within them.

  It reached the chamber of the captive Queen, who had known no thrill ofhope since that night of horror.

  "My God! my God!" she cried, with streaming eyes. "I thankthee!--_Madonna mia Sanctissima!_ My people are calling for me!"

  * * * * *

  "In the name of Her Majesty!"

  "Surrender command to the Admiral of Cyprus!"

  To no mighty force could those strong bars have been more swiftlywithdrawn; nor was there need of contest to displace the tremblingguards of Naples, as the men of Cyprus within the fort hastened to obeythe mandate from without, saluting as the massive gates creaked upontheir hinges and protesting that further haste had been impossible.

  "Let every traitor crave mercy!" the Admiral thundered as he crossed thedrawbridge with his cavalcade: "and on your knees crave pardon of youroutraged Queen as we descend."

  "Signori!"--to the Knights of the Golden Spurs--"await us here--noneless loyal may stand on guard."

  * * * * *

  To-day the entire armament of the fortress was less than of wont; forRizzo and Tripoli, secure in their victory and confident that therewould be no uprising since none had yet been attempted, had nothesitated to take a considerable following with them to secure thesurrender of the other citadels of Cyprus "_by order of the Queen_." Forwas not Rizzo the happy holder of many pretty bits of parchment signedby the hand of "Caterina Regina" herself and attested by the royalsignet of Cyprus--which to disobey was treason? It would be a prettyfarce to insist upon the potency of that trembling signature wrestedfrom the captive Queen when she had worn no semblance of power--a farceto which the Neapolitan schemer was fully equal.

  None but a man who knew the famous stronghold of Famagosta so intimatelyas did the Admiral of Cyprus could thus quickly have made sure that thesurrender was complete and that no secret reserves of men and arms werekept back for further intrigues. To swear in those who would stand forCyprus--to banish the mercenaries of Naples and all who were insympathy with them to the dungeons below--to make sure of the color ofthe guards at port and passage--was not so much longer in the doing thanin the telling.

  And yet, to the young Queen and Margherita the moments had seemed hours:they stood close together; straining every faculty to interpret themeaning of the commotion below, within the fortress, alternating betweenhope and fear as, at intervals, the cries of the people reached themfrom the piazza, indistinct and broken by the thickness of the walls;now and again a fierce imprecation rising above the tumult--yet surelythere were tones of loyalty--voices calling for "Caterina Regina!"

  Caterina's strength was well-nigh spent--she had suffered so much; shecaught the hand of Margherita in agitation as the tramp of footstepsechoed through the corridor nearing the door of her chamber, andMargherita laid her other hand on Caterina's with an almost maternaltenderness, from the great pity within her.

  "Beloved Lady!" she cried reassuringly; "they bring us glad tidings."

  For she read it in their faces as the Bernardini and Mutio di Costanzoknelt in the low doorway to offer their homage.

  But the young Queen seemed to tremble between life and death as shestretched forth her arms to them with a low wail that almost unnervedthose strong faithful men.

  "My Boy! My Boy!--your Prince!"

  How may joy immeasurable be told in an instant's space, and oneschooled to agony not die from the swift change to such rapture ofcontent!

  For the Bernardini had answered her: "Safe in the Palazzo Reale: and thepeople are clamoring for their Queen!"

  And because the Dama Margherita had seen the great shining light in hiseyes her heart went out to him, and she knew that the safety of theRoyal infant meant a tale of loyalty and danger that Aluisi Bernardiniwould never tell.

  * * * * *

  But at last the Admiral and the Bernardini led Caterina forth into thepiazza, pale and calm--the glory of a great gladness in her eyes--thesuffering which had left deep traces in her face disguised by theexaltation of the moment so that she scarcely seemed less radiant thanwhen she had last stood there on the day of the coronation fete with herchild in her arms--as any woman of the people might have done, thetender, baby-cheek pressed close to hers.

  Some of them remembered it as they fell on their knees around her,kissing her hands, offering her homage--reparation--sobbing out theirdevotion:

  "Regina! Madonna Nostra Reale! Regina! Regina! May the Holy Mother blessher and our little King!"

  She was not a thing of State and jewels, cold and distant like the proudQueen Elena, but a tender human mother, fair and young, and her hearthad been all but broken when that wicked Chief of Council had stolenaway the child!--the people might gather close about her and weep andrejoice with her.

  "_Madonna Nostra Reale!_"

  The air was still ringing with the loyal shouts of the multitude whenVettore Soranzo with that eagerly expected Venetian fleet, weighedanchor in the port of Famagosta and with his men streamed through theunresisting gates of the Fortress into the Piazza San Nicolo, where theyoung Queen still stood radiant.

  * * * * *

  With the holy calm of night peace brooded over the distracted city andthe Cyprian stars looked down on the old, sweet story of mother andchild--as closely clasped beneath the gilded roof of the royal palace asunder the thatch of a peasant shed--smiling, forgetful of the days ofanguish that had parted them.