The Royal Pawn of Venice
Page 32
XXXII
The times were perilous, and it behooved those whose duty it was to keepthe wheels of the machine sufficiently lubricated to run withoutover-much creaking, to see that not only were all possible precautionstaken to secure the Queen's safety, but that everything that mightpromote the loyalty of the uncertain Cyprian nobility should beencouraged.
Some of the older Greek families lived like petty rulers within theirown estates, holding absolute sway over their vassals and enforcingtheir allegiance at least to the point of not daring to act inopposition to whatever political views their lords might choose toadopt. Yet the fact that an old patrician was not in sympathy with theCrown was by no means an assurance of loyalty to Carlotta; it mightsimply mean that he was waiting to select one from among the manybanners that were eager to float over his happy island of Cyprus--orthat a more fervent hope possessed him of gathering to his own standardthe various malcontents and of wearing, with true Cyprian magnificence,the royal honors that he craved;--as why should he not? since more thanone of those ancient Cyprian families claimed kinship by marriage withthe royal house of Lusignan.
Thus it had been decreed by the powers behind the throne that the seatof government should be removed to Nikosia,--the most loyal of all thecities of the realm, whose jealousy at her loss of prestige in beingsupplanted in this dignity by the less important city of Famagostashould be wisely taken into account; and great preparations were beingmade for the royal progress about to take place, by which it was hopedto stimulate an increased pride in the Government among the populace andthe citizens.
Great hopes were also entertained by the Admiral Mutio di Costanzo, theBernardini, Dama Margherita and Madama di Thenouris that the _HighCourt_--an institution distinctively Cyprian, which had not been heldsince the death of Janus, but of which a session had now been proclaimedthroughout the island--would assemble a throng of nobles with theirvassals and would prove a strong appeal to their loyalty.
The old Cyprian gentlewoman, Madama di Thenouris, under advice of theAdmiral and the Council, had held long frank talks with the Lady of theBernardini.
"We love our gentle Queen," she said with feeling; "and we do ourpossible to uphold her. But she also--she must show herself among thenobles--she must claim their loyalty. Hath she the strength to riseabove her grief and try to rule? There hath been enough of mourning forthe temper of this people; we must have action. We are likechildren--half-barbaric--more easily swayed by trifles that pleaseus--not of such sober poise as the people of Venice; but the good Lordhath made us thus."
But Caterina was ready to do her part. "Whatever the customs of thecountry doth require," she answered without hesitation, "I shall havethe strength, since it is for my people. Only, cara Madama di Thenouris,thou and the Zia will provide what is best--I cannot think about thesethings--they seem like trifles; till I grow stronger," she addedtimidly, in a tone of appeal.
"Nay, beloved Lady; they are but trifles; we will spare you thought ofthem, that the real matters may help the sooner to win your interest.But it will not be displeasing to your Majesty to see your maidens aboutyou in robes of white--to hold a fairer memory of the infant King, inhis innocence and charm, than these robes of woe?" She touched the heavymourning folds of the Queen's garments, as she spoke.
Caterina started in surprise; but she answered in a moment, with alittle effort, "Aye--it will be sweeter--mine also, cara Madama; sincenever can the grief be less. The Holy Mother, and my _figliodilettissimo_--it is enough that they know. And it is for his people!"
Yet in the loneliness of the night, after she had made her last prayerat the tomb of Janus, and lighted the last taper with her own hands forhim in the Duomo San Nicolo, and wept her last tears before the altarwhere, but a few short months ago her little son had been baptized andcrowned--kneeling on the slab that bore her baby's name--the sense ofdesolation overpowered her.
"Even this little comfort I must lose," she cried; "Madonna mia--Janusand my boy seemed nearer here! They leave me nothing--nothing!"
But later in her own chamber, alone in the solemn stillness, deep inher heart an appeal that could not be uttered because of its intensity,her strained gaze fastened on the brilliant, star-lit skies as if shewould pierce the mysteries of life and death and surprise some effluenceof spirit-love--some smile of tenderness from the angel of her littlechild--a strange calm came to her--a dim perception of eternalvalues--of the nothingness of time and place--of the everlastingness ofany love that has been true.--Then slowly she sank upon her knees, stilllooking upward, and the anguish lessened and peace and strengthdescended upon her soul--a gift from the holiness of the night.
It was in such vigils, since her great sorrows had come to her, that thedesolate girl-queen had learned her life-lessons--and she was no longerafraid of their solemnity, coming thus into closer friendship with herown soul and a more implicit faith.
"Dear Father in Heaven!" she cried. "Thou knowest it is because I lovethem that I leave them, to do their life-work! and Thou wilt grant mewisdom! If but I knew--if but I knew my people's need!"
* * * * *
At that most perfect hour of early evening when the sun was sinkingrapidly behind the mountains in a flood of gold and crimson glory, andthe air was filled with a delicious wandering breeze, soft andrefreshing after the heat of the day and laden with the perfumes of athousand flowers, the Queen set forth upon her journey.
She was accompanied by her full court of knights and maidens, a guard ofinfantry and escort of cavalry, with many mounted nobles besides, to doher honor,--a sumptuous cavalcade of at least two hundred horse; withsuch state had the Council of the Realm thought fit to decree the royalprogress. With them came forth the dignitaries of Famagosta and othernobles, as was the custom of those days in bidding a ceremoniousfarewell--to journey with the royal train a league beyond the city whichthe Queen was leaving to take up her residence in Nikosia.
And thus the cavalcade proceeded on its way, pausing anon, for thegreetings of the villagers who came forth to meet them and offerhomage--Caterina slow-pacing on her snow-white palfrey--six knights fromamong the noblest in the land in constant attendance at her bridle,giving place continually to the new group pressing forward to claimtheir part of this so honorable service.
They had journeyed thus for an evening and a long day, with but theneedful pauses for rest and refreshment, when they saw before them inthe distance, embowered in delicious gardens of palms and cypresses andrich masses of bloom, the domes and minarets of the city ofNikosia--slender and white and lace-like against the deep blue sky--andclimbing the hillside, high above the city, the turrets and crenellatedwalls of its far-famed citadel.
The chances of travel had often brought the Signor Bernardini and DamaMargherita together, and there had been much friendly talk between themof things which both held dear and in which their hopes for the quietingof the kingdom had a large share. She was flushed and eager beyond herwont, when they first came in sight of the distant city of Nikosia, andhe laid his hand upon her bridle and lowered his voice. "Let us nothasten," he said entreatingly; "the journey hath been so beautiful; andour bourne is all too near."
"Nay--not too near--for Her Majesty may well be weary."
"The Dama Margherita hath ever a thought for others," he answered her."_And for me?_--will she not grant me to reach the bourne I covet?"
"How may I help to that of which I know nothing?" she askedinadvertently, her thoughts being full of the problems they haddiscussed touching the Queen: then suddenly lifting her eyes and meetinghis, she turned her head away in confusion.
"Then I will make confession----" he began eagerly.
"Nay; I am no priest," she answered, touching her horse with her whip.
He followed, disconcerted; but she, repenting, soon quieted her pace andturned her face to him again, serene as of wont.
"I would fain tell thee my secret, Margherita," he pleaded.
She lacked the courage to reprove him wh
ile he lingered on her name withan accent that turned it to music.
"Nay--if it be a secret, tell it not: for women have tongues."
"Have they also hearts?" he asked.
"Not those who yield them," she said; "but only those who hold themfast."
"_Is_ my secret a secret, Margherita?"
"Your Excellency--a member of the Council of the Realm hath so reportedit," she answered, laughing frankly. "Who am I, that I should questionhis judgment?"
"Thou art thyself," he said half banteringly--half seriously, andwatching to see how she would take it. "To none other would I so defer."
"Not to the Queen?" she asked, still playfully.
But he was serious at once. "Aye--ever to the Queen, in duty bound--bykinsman's ties--by knighthood's vows--by my honor, by her sorrows, andby my will--yet this hindereth not that there should be one----"
"Methinks my stirrup is caught fast in the housing!" she interruptedwith an exclamation of dismay: and there was naught to do for theBernardini but to dismount and readjust it,--she--talking brightly thewhile, of many things for which at that moment he cared naught; andless, because it was she who spoke.
But when they were riding side by side again, and the city was comingnearer, he would not be put off for any whim of hers.
"If thou hast discovered my secret--which I would fain know--mostworshipful Dama Margherita,--I would that thou shouldst proclaim itwherever thy tongue listeth. '_Quel che Iblin e, non si puo trovar!_'"
He knew that the old Cyprian proverb, "Such another as Iblin is, may notbe found," was the pride of her house, and would reach the tenderestspot in her loyal heart.
She turned to him gravely: "Dear Signor Bernardini, let it not bespoken between us," she said. "For the Queen hath sore need of us--ofour every thought and care."
"Might we not serve her better so?" he pleaded.
But she shook her head. "Thou who hast been all faith and service,counting thy life naught--thou knowest. She in her trouble should seethat we think but of her."
"Is this thy answer--most worshipful Margherita?"
Again she turned her eyes to his--serene and deep--no hint of trouble inthem.
"There hath been no question," she said; "there can be no answer, wherethere hath been no question."
And although he would fain have spoken further, he could not: for thatbrief moment in which her eyes held his--half-commanding--whollytrusting--was like the sealing of a vow to do her bidding.
Then as she turned away, the echo of a name floated towardshim--"Aluisi!" so spoken as no one had ever uttered it before.--Or hadhe surprised it, written on her soul, in that deep gaze, which she hadpermitted?
* * * * *
But now the sudden sunset glory of that Eastern clime flamed in theskies, touching the domes and pinnacles of this city of delights withflecks of crimson and purple and molten gold, illuminating the lovelyCyprian landscape with a never-to-be-forgotten light--and Nikosia stoodforth radiant against the background of dark environing hills, clothedto their summits with kingly cedars--while in the far distance the seaflashed its silver setting, melting into the opal of the clouds whichseemed to rise from its breast.
Was it this fleeting radiance of color that always stirred the birds tosudden, joyous song at the charmed hour of sunset?--that outpoured uponthe heavenly breeze, for which the long day often panted, this flood ofperfume of a thousand odors? Or was it only because it was Cyprus andfor her magic beauty she had indeed been named of all the isles ofGreece, "L'Isola Fortunata," beloved of the gods?
But now from the splendid city came sounds of rejoicing--music andvivas--through the gates thrown wide, the tramp of a multitude issuingforth to welcome their Queen, with the homage of loyal hearts,--and herown throbbed almost to breaking. The Vice-Roy and Admiral, Mutio diCostanzo, with his escort of Knights of the Golden Spurs came bringingthe keys of the city which had stood for the Queen against the mandatesof the Council of the Realm; Stefano Caduna, Leader of the people,stalwart and faithful, brave as a lion, with his devoted guild abouthim--the judges of the courts and the chief men of the municipality; achapter of the Knights of St. John, in their white mantles andeight-pointed crosses of red--the new primate of Nikosia, with all thehierarchy of his province of diverse creeds--the burghers--the nobles ofthe city--they made a welcome that stirred the soul of Caterina andfilled it with a hope warm as the presage of the glowing skies.
"_Viva la Regina--La ben-venuta!_"
The people shouted her name; they thronged to swell the royalprocession as she rode through the garlanded streets, in regal state,under the golden canopy which they had brought to do her honor, upheldover her fair young head by four mounted knights of the most ancienthouses of Nikosia. Before the portico of the Duomo Santa Soffia thecavalcade came to pause, while Caterina dismounted--the people clingingabout her to kiss her hand, to prove their loyalty--until pale fromemotion she left them, and passed with all her noble company under thefretted arches of the vast portal, to offer up her orisons--her firstact in this city of her adoption, a service of faith and adoration--herfirst resting-place in her new home, the altar of the church which wasone in all lands.