Under the Witches' Moon: A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome

by Nathan Gallizier

  CHAPTER VI

  FROM DREAM TO DREAM

  Theodora's sleep had been broken and restless. She tossed and turnedupon her pillow. It was weary work to lie gazing with eyes wide openat the fantastic shadows cast by the flickering night lamp. It wasstill less productive of sleep to shut them tight and abandon herselfto the visions thus created which stood out in life-like colors andrefused to be dispelled. Do what she would to forget him, Tristan everand ever stood before her, towering like a demigod above the mean,effeminate throng that surrounded her. She could no longer analyze herfeelings. She believed herself to be bewitched. She had not reachedthe prime of womanhood without having sounded, as she thought, everychord of the human heart. Descendant from a family of courtesans, suchas had ruled Rome during the tenth century, she had tasted every cup,as she thought, that promised gratification and excitement. She hadbeen flattered, courted, loved, admired. Yet she had remained utterlycold to all these experiences, and none of her lovers could boast thather passion had endured beyond the hour. The terrible fascination sheexercised over all men made them slaves in her hands, blind instrumentsof her will. But, as the years went by, the utter disgust she felt withthese hordes of beasts that thronged her bowers, was only equalled bya mad desire for power, a struggle, which alone could bring to heroblivion. To rule had become a passion with the woman, who had no heartinterest that made life worth living. The fleeting passion for Basilhad long ceased to kindle a responsive fire in her veins. Fit but tobe her tool, she was determined to rid herself of him as soon as herambition should have been realized.

  Suddenly the unbelievable had come to pass. She had met a man. Not oneof those crawling, fawning reptiles who nightly desecrated her groves,but a man who might have steered her life into different channels, whomight have directed the flight of her soul to regions of light, insteadof chaining it to the dark abyss among the shadows. It was a newsensation altogether. This intense and passionate longing she had neverfelt before. But in its novelty it was absolutely painful. For the manwhom she craved with all the fibres of her being, to whom her soul wentout as it had never gone out to mortal, had scorned her.

  Her fame had proved more potent than her beauty.

  Tristan's continued indifference had roused in her all the demonsin her nature. Her first impulse had been revenge at any price. Hercompact with Basil was the fruit of her first madness. Even now shewould have rescinded it had Tristan but shown a softer, kindlierfeeling towards her. Some incongruous whim had prompted her to choosefor her instrument the very man whom in her heart she loathed, whoseattentions were an insult to her. For, in her own heart, Theodora heldherself to be some God-decreed thing, like the Laides and Thaides andPhrynes of old. She could not escape her destiny.

  With all her self-command Theodora's feelings had almost overpoweredher. Ever since the tidings of Tristan's supposed crime and captivityhad reached her ear, she had taxed her brain, though in vain, tobring about his rescue. For once her efforts were baffled and she meta resistance which all the tigerish ferocity of her nature couldnot overcome. Tristan was in the custody of the Church. In his guiltTheodora did not believe, rather did she suspect foul play at the handsof one of whom she would demand a terrible reckoning. She thought ofTristan night and day, and she was determined to save him, whatever thehazard,--save him for herself and her love. Her spies were at work, butmeanwhile she must sit idly by and wait--wait, though the blood coursedlike lava through her veins. She dared confide in none, nor could sheeven have speech with the man she loved. She had managed to curb herfeelings and to preserve an outward calm, while Persephone prepared herfor repose. The latter was much puzzled by her mistress's mood, but sheretired to her own couch carefree, while Theodora writhed in an agonysuch as she had never known before.

  Yet, fate had been kind to her,--kinder than she had dared to hope.By some fatal throw of chance the woman Tristan loved--her rival--hadfallen into her hands. While this circumstance did not in itself takethe sting of Tristan's insult from the wound, she would, at least, berevenged upon the cause of her suffering.

  When, on that memorable evening at the Arch of the Seven Candles, shehad first met Hellayne face to face, when first the truth had flashedupon her and she knew herself rejected for that white lily from theNorth, a hatred such as she had never known had crept into her heart,a hatred to which fresh fuel was added from the consciousness of herrival's beauty, her strength, her youth. With all the fire of hersouthern temperament she longed to meet this woman, to conquer her, totake from her the man she loved.

  Morning brought in its wake its unfailing accession ofclear-sightedness and practical resolve. Long before she rose she hadmade up her mind where and how to strike. Nothing remained but tochoose the weapon and to put a keener edge upon the steel.

  When Persephone came to assist her mistress, she wondered how the moodof the evening had passed. While attiring Theodora, the Circassiancould not but wonder at the marvellous beauty of this woman who hadbent the hearts of men to her desires like wind blown reeds, onlyto break them and cast them at their feet. Only on the previous daya new wooer had entered the lists; a man rude of speech and manner,vain withal and self-satisfied, had laid gifts at Theodora's feet.Roger de Laval was the great man's name. He came from some far away,fabled land, and it was rumored that he had come to Rome to seek histruant wife. Having surprised her in the arms of her lover, whom shehad followed, he had killed both. Such a temper was to the likingof Persephone, and, as her soft white fingers played around hermistress' throat, in the endeavor to fasten her rose-colored tunic, shecould hardly restrain herself from encircling that white throat andstrangling the woman who had spurned the attentions of one for whoselove she would have sacrificed her soul.

  "What of the Lady Hellayne?" Theodora broke the heavy silence.

  "She remains in the chamber which the Lady Theodora has assigned toher." Persephone replied.

  "Are the eunuchs at their post?"

  "Before her door and beneath her windows."

  Theodora gave a nod.

  "Bring the Lady Hellayne here!"

  "The Lady Theodora has not breakfasted."

  "I know! Yet I would not delay this meeting longer."

  Persephone hesitated.

  "The Lady Hellayne is in a perilous mood--"

  "I should love nothing better than to find her so," Theodora replied,extending her two snowy arms, whose steely strength Persephone knewso well. "I long for the conflict with this marble statue as I havenever longed for anything in my life. I could find it in my heart tobe happy if she destroyed me with those white hands that rival mine,if she but stepped out of her reserve, her marble calm, if her soulignited from mine."

  "If I know aught about her kind, the Lady Theodora will do well to bewary," Persephone replied demurely.

  The covert taunt had its instantaneous effect.

  "Deem you I fear this white siren from the North?" Theodora flashed,regarding herself in the bronze mirror and brushing a stray lock ofhair from her white brow.

  "What will you do with her, Lady Theodora?" Persephone purred.

  Theodora's face was very white.

  "There are times when nothing but the physical touch will satisfy. Andnow go and fetch hither the Lady Hellayne that I may hear from her ownlips how she fared under the roof of her rival."

  Persephone departed from the room, while Theodora arose and, steppingto the casement, looked out into the blossoming gardens that encircledher palace.

  Her beauty was regal indeed, as she stood there brooding, her bare armsdropping by her side. But for the expression of the eyes, in whicha turmoil of passion seemed to seethe, the wonderful face in reposewould have seemed that of an angel rather than a woman meditating thedestruction of another.

  After a time Persephone returned. By her side walked Hellayne.

  Her beauty seemed even enhanced by the expression of suffering revealedin the depths of her blue eyes. She wore a dark robe, almost severe inits straight lines. The loose sleeves revealed he
r white arms. Her hairwas tied in a Grecian knot.

  At a sign from Theodora Persephone left the room.

  For a moment the two women faced each other in silence, fixing eachother with their gaze, each trying to read the thoughts of the other.

  It was Hellayne who spoke.

  "The Lady Theodora has desired my presence."

  "It was my anxiety for your welfare, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied,inviting her to a seat, while she seated herself opposite her visitor."After the trying experiences of yesterday I do not wonder at theshadows that creep under your eyes. They but prove that my anxiety waswell founded. May I ask if you rested well?"

  "I owe you thanks, Lady Theodora, for your timely aid," Hellaynereplied in cold, passionless accents. "They tell me I was in direstraits, though I cannot conceive who should care to abduct one whowould so little repay the effort."

  "Enough to infatuate him, whoever he was, with a beauty as rare as itis wonderful," Theodora replied, forced to an expression of her ownadmiration at the sight of the exquisite face, the white throat, thewonderful arms and hands of her rival. "I but did what any woman woulddo for another whose life she saw imperilled. Your wonderful youthand strength will soon restore you to your former self. Deign then toaccept the hospitality of this abode until such a time."

  There was a pause during which each seemed to search the soul of theother.

  It was Hellayne who spoke.

  "I thank you, Lady Theodora. Nevertheless I intend to depart at theearliest. I can picture to myself the anxiety of the Blessed Sisters ofSanta Maria in Trastevere at my mysterious disappearance."

  "You intend taking holy orders?"

  Theodora's question was pregnant with a strange wonder.

  A negative gesture came in response.

  "The convent proved a haven of refuge to me when I was sorely tried."

  "Yet--you cannot return there," Theodora interposed. "You would notbe safe. Know you from whose minions my Africans rescued you on yestereve?"

  Hellayne's wide eyes were silent questioners.

  "Then listen well and ponder. You were in the power of the Lord Basil.And that which he desires he usually obtains."

  Hellayne covered her face with her hands.

  "The Lord Basil!"

  "You know him, Lady Hellayne?"

  "Slightly. He was wont to call upon the man I once called my husband."

  "The man you deserted for another."

  Hellayne's eyes glittered like steel.

  "That is a matter which concerns only myself, Lady Theodora," she saidcoldly. "You saved my honor--perchance my life. For this I thank you. Ishall depart at once."

  She walked to the door, opened it and recoiled.

  Before it stood two Africans with gleaming scimitars.

  White to the lips, Hellayne closed the door and faced Theodora.

  "Lady Theodora--why are these there?"

  Theodora's smouldering gaze met the fire in the other woman's eyes.

  "Those who come to the bowers of Theodora, remain," she said slowly.

  "Am I to understand that you will detain me by force within these wallsof infamy?"

  "Your language is a trifle harsh, fairest Lady Hellayne," Theodorareplied mockingly. "Your over-wrought nerves must bear the burden ofthe blame. Yet, whatever it may please you to call the place whereTheodora dwells, always remember, I am Theodora. You have heard of mebefore."

  "Yes--I have heard of you before!"

  The calm and cutting contempt which lingered in these words stungTheodora like a whip-lash.

  "You know then, Lady Hellayne, it is your will against mine! We havemet before!"

  "You mean to detain me here, against my will?"

  "Whether I detain you or no--shall depend upon yourself. We are twowomen--young,--beautiful--passionate--determined to win that which wedeem our happiness. I will be plain with you. All the reverses andheartaches of months and days are wiped out in this glorious momentwhen I hold you here in my power. For once my guardian angel, if I canstill boast of one, has been kind to me. He has delivered you into myhands--and I shall bend or break you!"

  Hellayne listened to this outburst of passion with outward calm, thoughher heart beat so wildly that she thought the other woman must hear itthrough the deadly silence which prevailed for a space.

  "You will bend or break me, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne replied with apathetic shrug. "There is nothing that you could do that would evenleave a memory. I have suffered that in life which makes you to me butthe nightmare of an evil dream."

  "We shall see, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied, her passion kindlingat the other woman's calm.

  "What then is the ransom you desire, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne continuedsardonically. "A woman of your kind desires but one thing--and gold Ido not possess--"

  Theodora's eyes scanned Hellayne's pale face.

  "Lady Hellayne," she said slowly, "of all the things in heaven or onearth there is but one I desire: Tristan,--the man you love--the manwho loves you with a passion so idolatrous that, did I possess but theone thousandth atom of what he gives to your ice cold heart, I shoulddeem myself blessed above all women on earth. Give him to me--renouncehim--and you are free to go wherever your fancy may lead you."

  Hellayne regarded the speaker as if she thought she had gone mad.

  "Give him to you?" she said, hardly above a whisper, but her tone stungTheodora to the quick.

  "To me!" she said. "Look at me! Am I not beautiful? Am I not createdto make man happy? What woman may match herself with me? Even yourpale beauty, Lady Hellayne, is but as a disembodied wraith as comparedto mine. To me! To me! You are young, Lady Hellayne. What can thesacrifice matter to you? To you it can mean little. There are othermen with whom you may be happy. For me it spells salvation--or eternaldoom! For I love him, I love him with my whole heart and soul, lovehim as never I loved the thing called man before! He has shown to meone glimpse of heaven, and now I mean to have him, to atone for apast that was my evil inheritance, to taste life ere I too descendto those shadowy regions whence there is no return. Lady Hellayne,"she continued, hardly noting the expression of horror and loathingthat had crept into Hellayne's countenance. "You have heard ofme--you know who I am--and what! Those who went before me were thesame, generations, perchance. It rankles in our blood. But there issalvation--even for such as myself. To few it comes, but I have seenthe star. It is the love of a man, pure and true. Where such a oneis found, even the darkness of the grave is dispelled. I have livedand loved, Lady Hellayne! I have been loved as few women have. I havehurled myself into this mad whirlpool to forget--but forget I couldnot. Man, the beast, is ever ready to drag the woman who cries for lifeand its true meaning back into the mire. He alone of all has spurnedme--he alone has resisted the deadly lure of my charms. Never have Ispoken to woman before as I am speaking to you, Lady Hellayne. Hear myprayer!--Renounce him!"

  Hellayne stared mute at the speaker, as if her tongue refused herutterance. Was she going mad? Theodora, the courtesan queen ofRome, trying to obtain salvation by taking from her her lover? Shecould almost have found it in her heart to laugh aloud. A death-bedrepentance that made the devils laugh! In her virginal purity Hellaynecould not fathom what was going on in the soul of a woman who hadsuddenly awakened to the terror of her life and was snatching at thelast straw to save herself from drowning in the cesspool of vice.

  Theodora, with her woman's intuition, saw what was going on in theother woman's soul. She noted the slow transformation from amazement tohorror, and from horror to defiance. She saw Hellayne slowly raisingherself to her full height, and approaching her, who had risen, untilher breath fanned her cheek.

  "Give him to you, Lady Theodora? Surely you must be mad to even dreamof so monstrous a thing."

  She was very white, and her hands were clenched as if she forciblyrestrained herself from flying at her opponent's throat.

  Theodora's self-restraint was slowly waning. She knew she had pleadedin vain. She knew Hellayne did not unders
tand, or, if she understood,did not believe.

  She spoke calmly, yet there was something in her voice that warnedHellayne of the impending storm.

  "Listen, Lady Hellayne," she said. "You are alone in Rome! At the mercyof any one who desires you! Your lover is accused of the most heinouscrime. He has taken the consecrated wafer from the chapel in theLateran and, who knows, from how many other churches in Rome."

  Hellayne's eyes sank into those of the other woman.

  "No one knows better than yourself, Lady Theodora, how utterly falseand infamous this accusation is. Tristan is a devout son of the Church.His whole life bears testimony thereof."

  "If the Consistory pronounce him guilty, who will believe himinnocent?" came the mocking reply.

  "His God--his conscience--and I," Hellayne replied quietly.

  "Will that save his life--which is forfeit?" Theodora interposed.

  "Where is he? Oh, where is he?"

  For a moment Hellayne gave way to her emotions.

  "He lies in the vaults of Castel San Angelo," Theodora replied,"awaiting his doom."

  "Oh, God! Oh, God!" Hellayne moaned, covering her face with her handsand sobbing convulsively.

  "His rescue--though difficult of achievement--lies with you," Theodorasaid, veiling her inmost feelings. She was staking all on the lastthrow.

  "With me?" Hellayne turned to her piteously.

  "I will tell you," Theodora interposed, placing her white hands onHellayne's shoulders. "The Consistory has spoken--" she lied--"and nopower on earth can save your lover from his doom save--myself!"

  "How may that be?"

  "I know the ways of the Emperor's Tomb. Its denizens obey me! If youlove him as I do you will bring the sacrifice and save his life."

  "Oh, save him if you can, Lady Theodora," Hellayne prayed, her handsclosing round Theodora's wrists. "Save him--save him."

  "I shall, if you will do this thing, I ask," Theodora replied, sinkingher dark orbs into the blue depths of Hellayne's.

  "What am I to do?"

  "It is easy. Here are stylus and tablet. Write to the Lord Basilto meet you at the Groves of Theodora. A hint of love, passion,promise--fulfillment of his desires--then give it to me. It shall saveyour lover."

  For a moment Hellayne stared wild-eyed at the woman. It was as if shehad heard a voice, the meaning of which she no longer understood.

  Then, in her unimpassioned voice, she turned to Theodora.

  "Only the fiend himself and Theodora could ask as much!"

  The blood was coursing like a stream of lava through Theodora's veins.

  Would Hellayne but step out of her reserve! Would she but abandon hericy calm!

  "Then you refuse?" she flashed.

  "I defy you," Hellayne replied. "Do your worst! Rather would I see himdead than defiled by such as you!"

  "Would you, indeed?" Theodora returned with a deadly calm."Nevertheless, when first we met, he, for the mere asking, gave to mea scarf of blue samite, a chased dagger, tokens from the woman he hadloved."

  Theodora paused, to watch the effect of the poison shaft she had sped.She saw by Hellayne's agonized expression that it had struck home.

  "For the last time, Lady Hellayne, do my bidding!"

  Hellayne had regained her self-possession. With a supreme effort shefought down the pain in her heart.

  "Never!" came the firm reply.

  "Then I shall take him from you!"

  "Deem you, I have aught to fear from such as you?" Hellayne saidslowly, the blue fire of her eyes burning on the pale face of Theodora."Deem you, that Tristan would defile his manhood with the courtesanqueen of Rome?"

  A gasp, a choking outcry, and Theodora's white hands closed roundHellayne's throat. Though their touch burnt her like fire, Hellayne didnot even raise her hands.

  Fearlessly she gazed into Theodora's face.

  "I am waiting," she said with the same passionless voice, but there wassomething in her eyes that gave the other woman pause.

  Theodora's hands fell limply by her side. What she read in Hellayne'seyes had caused her, perchance, for the first time, to blanch.

  She clapped her hands.

  The door opened and Persephone stood on the threshold.

  She had listened, and not a word of their discourse had escaped herwatchful ears.

  "The Lady Hellayne desires to return to her chamber," Theodora turnedto the Circassian, and without another word Hellayne followed her guide.

  Yet, as she did so, her head was turned towards Theodora and in hereyes was an expression so inscrutable that Theodora turned away with ashudder, as the door closed behind their retreating forms, leaving heralone with her overmastering agony.