Love-at-Arms

  CHAPTER XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO

  Monna Valentina and her ladies dined at noon in a small chamber openingfrom the great hall, and thither were bidden Francesco and Gonzaga. Thecompany was waited upon by the two pages, whilst Fra Domenico, witha snow-white apron girt about his portentous waist, brought up thesteaming viands from the kitchen where he had prepared them; for, likea true conventual, he was something of a master in the confection--and avery glutton in the consumption--of delectable comestibles. The kitchenwas to him as the shrine of some minor cult, and if his breviaryand beads commanded from him the half of the ecstatic fervour of hisdevotions to pot and pan, to cauldron and to spit, then was canonisationindeed assured him.

  He set before them that day a dinner than which a better no princecommanded, unless it were the Pope. There were ortolans, shot in thevalley, done with truffles, that made the epicurean Gonzaga roll hiseyes, translated through the medium of his palate into a very paradiseof sensual delight. There was a hare, trapped on the hillside, andstewed in Malmsey, of a flavour so delicate that Gonzaga was regrettinghim his heavy indulgence in the ortolans; there was trout, fresh caughtin the stream below, and a wondrous pasty that turned liquid in themouth. To wash down these good things there was stout red wine of Pugliaand more delicate Malvasia, for in his provisioning of the fortressGonzaga had contrived that, at least, they should not go thirsty.

  "For a garrison awaiting siege you fare mighty well at Roccaleone," wasFrancesco's comment on that excellent repast.

  It was the fool who answered him. He sat out of sight upon the floor,hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now andagain would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she mighthave treated a favourite hound.

  "You have the friar to thank for it," said he, in a muffled voice, forhis mouth was crammed with pasty. "Let me be damned when I die, if Imake him not my confessor. The man who can so minister to bodies shoulddeal amazingly well with souls. Fra Domenico, you shall confess me aftersunset."

  "You need me not," answered the monk, in disdainful wrath. "There is abeatitude for such as you--'Blessed are the poor in spirit.'"

  "And is there no curse for such as you?" flashed back the fool. "Does itsay nowhere--'Damned are the gross of flesh, the fat and rotund gluttonswho fashion themselves a god of their own bellies'?"

  With his sandalled foot the friar caught the fool a surreptitious kick.

  "Be still, you adder, you bag of venom."

  Fearing worse, the fool gathered himself up.

  "Beware!" he cried shrilly. "Bethink you, friar, that anger is acardinal sin. Beware, I say!"

  Fra Domenico checked his upraised hand, and fell to muttering scraps ofLatin, his lids veiling his suddenly down-cast eyes. Thus Peppe gainedthe door.

  "Say, friar; in my ear, now--Was that a hare you stewed, or an outwornsandal?"

  "Now, God forgive me," roared the monk, springing towards him.

  "For your cooking? Aye, pray--on your knees." He dodged a blow, ducked,and doubled back into the room. "A cook, you? Pish! you tun of conventlard! Your ortolans were burnt, your trout swam in grease, yourpasty----"

  What the pasty may have been the company was not to learn, for FraDomenico, crimson of face, had swooped down upon the fool, and wouldhave caught him but that he dived under the table by Valentina's skirts,and craved her protection from this gross maniac that held himself acook.

  "Now, hold your wrath, father," she said, laughing with the rest. "Hedoes but plague you. Bear with him for the sake of that beautitude youcited, which has fired him to reprisals."

  Mollified, but still grumbling threats of a beating to be bestowed onPeppe when the opportunity should better serve him, the friar turned tohis domestic duties. They rose soon after, and at Gonzaga's suggestionValentina paused in the great hall to issue orders that Fortemani bebrought before her for judgment. In a score of ways, since their comingto Roccaleone, had Ercole been wanting in that respect to which Gonzagaheld himself entitled, and this opportunity he seized with eagerness tovent his vindictive rancour.

  Valentina begged of Francesco that he, too, would stay, and help themwith his wide experience, a phrase that sent an unpleasant pang throughthe heart of Romeo Gonzaga. It was perhaps as much to assert himselfas to gratify his rancour against Fortemani, that, having despatched asoldier to fetch the prisoner, he turned to suggest curtly that Ercoleshould be hanged at once.

  "What boots a trial?" he demanded. "We were all witnesses of hisinsubordination, and for that there can be but one punishment. Let theanimal hang!"

  "But the trial is of your own suggestion," she protested.

  "Nay, Madonna. I but suggested judgment. It is since you have beggedMesser Francesco, here, to assist us that I opine you mean to give theknave a trial."

  "Would you credit this dear Gonzaga with so much bloodthirstiness?" sheasked Francesco. "Do you, sir, share his opinion that the captain shouldhang unheard? I fear me you do, for, from what I have seen of them, yourways do not incline to gentleness."

  Gonzaga smiled, gathering from that sentence how truly she apprised thecoarse nature of this stranger. Francesco's answer surprised them.

  "Nay, I hold Messer Gonzaga's an ill counsel. Show mercy to Fortemaninow, where he expects none, and you will have made a faithful servant ofhim. I know his kind."

  "Ser Francesco speaks without the knowledge that we have, Madonna,"was Gonzaga's rude comment. "An example must be made if we would haverespect and orderliness from these men."

  "Then make it an example of mercy," suggested Francesco sweetly.

  "Well, we shall see," was Valentina's answer. "I like your counsel,Messer Francesco, and yet I see a certain wisdom in Gonzaga's words.Though in such a case as this I would sooner consort with folly thanhave a man's death upon my conscience. But here he comes, and, at least,we'll give him trial. Maybe he is penitent by now."

  Gonzaga sneered, and took his place on the right of Valentina's chair,Francesco standing on her left; and in this fashion they disposedthemselves to hold judgment upon the captain of her forces.

  He was brought in between two mailed men-at-arms, his hands pinionedbehind him, his tread heavy as that of a man in fear, his eyes directedsullenly upon the waiting trio, but sullenest of all upon Francesco, whohad so signally encompassed his discomfiture. Valentina spread a handto Gonzaga, and from Gonzaga waved it slightly in the direction of theBully. Responsive to that gesture, Gonzaga faced the pinioned captaintruculently.

  "You know your offence, knave," he bawled at him. "Have you aught tourge that may deter us from hanging you?"

  Fortemani raised his brows a moment in surprise at this ferocity fromone whom he had always deemed a very woman. Then he uttered a laugh ofsuch contempt that the colour sprang to Gonzaga's cheek.

  "Take him out----" he began furiously, when Valentina interposed,setting a hand upon his arm.

  "Nay, nay, Gonzaga, your methods are all wrong. Tell him---- Nay, I willquestion him myself. Messer Fortemani, you have been guilty of an act ofgross abuse. You and your men were hired for me by Messer Gonzaga, andto you was given the honourable office of captain over them, that youmight lead them in this service of mine in the ways of duty, submission,and loyalty. Instead of that, you were the instigator of that outragethis morning, when murder was almost done upon an inoffensive man whowas my guest. What have you to say?"

  "That I was not the instigator," he answered sullenly.

  "It is all one," she returned, "for at least it was done with yoursanction, and you took a share in that cruel sport, instead ofrestraining it, as was clearly your duty. It is upon you, the captain,that the responsibility rests."

  "Lady," he explained, "they are wild souls, but very true."

  "True to their wildness, maybe," she answered him disdainfully. Then sheproceeded: "You will remember that twice before has Messer Gonzaga hadoccasion to admonish you. These last two nights your men have behavedriotously within my walls. There has been hard drinking, there has beendicing
, and such brawling once or twice as led me to think there wouldbe throats cut among your ranks. You were warned by Messer Gonzaga tohold your followers in better leash, and yet to-day, without so much asdrunkenness to excuse them, we have this vile affair, with yourself fora ringleader in it."

  There followed a pause, during which Ercole stood with bent head likeone who thinks, and Francesco turned his wonder-laden glance upon thisslight girl with the gentle brown eyes which had been so tender andpitiful. Marvelling at the greatness of her spirit, he grew--allunconsciously--the more enslaved.

  Gonzaga, all unconcerned in this, eyed Fortemani in expectation of hisanswer.

  "Madonna," said the bully at last, "what can you look for from such atroop as this? Messer Gonzaga cannot have expected me to enlist acolytesfor a business that he told me bordered upon outlawry. Touching theirdrunkenness and the trifle of rioting, what soldiers have not thesefaults? When they have them not, neither have they merit. The man thatis tame in times of peace is a skulking woman in times of war. Forthe rest, whence came the wine they drank? It was of Messer Gonzaga'sproviding."

  "You lie, hound!" blazed Gonzaga. "I provided wine for Madonna's table,not for the men."

  "Yet some found its way to them; which is well. For water on the stomachmakes a man poor-spirited. Where is the sin of a little indulgence,Madonna?" he went on, turning again to Valentina. "These men ofmine will prove their mettle when it comes to blows. They are dogsperhaps--but mastiffs every one of them, and would lose a hundred livesin your service if they had them."

  "Aye, if they had them," put in Gonzaga sourly; "but having no more thanone apiece, they'll not care to spare it."

  "Nay, there you wrong them," cried Fortemani, with heat. "Give them aleader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, andthey will go anywhere at his bidding."

  "And there," put in Gonzaga quickly, "you bring us back to the mainissue. Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have doneworse. You have been insubordinate when you should not only have beenorderly, but have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by mylights, you should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna," heconcluded, turning to Valentina. "Let the example be made."

  "But, Madonna----" began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his ruggedcountenance.

  Gonzaga silenced him.

  "Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and forinsubordination there is but one penalty."

  The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit toretort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him.

  "Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man iswrong. There has been no insubordination."

  "How?" she questioned, turning to the Count. "None, say you?"

  "A Solomon is arisen," sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; "Waste not wordswith him, Madonna," he pursued. "Our business is with Fortemani."

  "But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right."

  "Your heart is over-tender," answered Romeo impatiently. But she hadturned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaningclearer.

  "Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against MesserGonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then,and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he hasdone none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant,it is true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was underno promise of loyalty to Lanciotto."

  They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdominstead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen,Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, andMadonna with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. Theywrangled a while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornfulof both Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held theground he had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders,acknowledged herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment.

  "You are in earnest, Madonna?" quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst ablack scowl disfigured the serenity of Gonzaga's brow.

  "I am indeed. Deal with him as you account best and most just, and itshall fare with him precisely as you ordain."

  Francesco turned to the men-at-arms. "Unbind him, one of you," he saidshortly.

  "I believe that you are mad," cried Gonzaga, in a frenzy, but his moodsprang rather from the chagrin of seeing his interloper prevail where hehad failed. "Madonna, do not heed him."

  "I pray you let be, my good Gonzaga," she answered soothingly, andGonzaga, ready to faint from spite, obeyed her.

  "Leave him there, and go," was Paolo's next order to the men, and theydeparted, leaving the astonished Fortemani standing alone, unbound andsheepish.

  "Now mark me well, Messer Fortemani," Francesco admonished him. "Youdid a cowardly thing, unworthy of the soldier that you would have menbelieve you. And for that, I think, the punishment you received at myhands has been sufficient, in that the indignity to which I submittedyou has shaken your standing with your followers. Go back to them nowand retrieve what you have lost, and see that in the future you areworthier. Let this be a lesson to you, Messer Fortemani. You have goneperilously near hanging, and you have had it proved to you that inmoments of peril your men are ready to raise their hands against you.Why is that? Because you have not sought their respect. You have beentoo much a fellow of theirs in their drinking and their brawling,instead of holding yourself aloof with dignity."

  "Lord, I have learnt my lesson!" answered the cowed bully.

  "Then act upon it. Resume your command, and discipline your men to abetter order. Madonna, here, and Messer Gonzaga will forget this thing.Is it not so, Madonna? Is it not so, Messer Gonzaga?"

  Swayed by his will and by an intuition that told her that to whateverend he might be working, he was working wisely, Valentina gave Fortemanithe assurance Francesco begged, and Gonzaga was forced grudgingly tofollow her example.

  Fortemani bowed low, his face pale and his limbs trembling as not evenfear had made them tremble. He advanced towards Valentina, and sinkingon one knee, he humbly kissed the hem of her gown.

  "Your clemency, Madonna, shall give you no regret. I will serve you tothe death, lady, and you, lord." At the last words he raised his eyesto Francesco's calm face. Then, without so much as a glance at thedisappointed Gonzaga, he rose, and bowing again--a very courtier--hewithdrew.

  The closing of the door was to Gonzaga a signal to break out in atorrent of bitter reproofs against Francesco, reproofs that were stemmedmidway by Valentina.

  "You are beside yourself, Gonzaga," she exclaimed. "What has been done,has been done with my sanction. I do not doubt the wisdom of it."

  "Do you not? God send you never may! But that man will know no peaceuntil he is avenged on us."

  "Messer Gonzaga," returned Francesco, with an incomparable politeness,"I am an older man than are you, and maybe that I have seen more warringand more of such men. There is a certain valour lurks in that bullyfor all his blustering boastfulness and swagger, and there is, too, acertain sense of justice. Mercy he has had to-day, and time will showhow right I am in having pardoned him in Madonna's name. I tell you,sir, that nowhere has Monna Valentina a more faithful servant than he isnow likely to become."

  "I believe you, Messer Francesco. Indeed, I am sure your act was wisdomitself."

  Gonzaga gnawed his lip.

  "I may be wrong," said he, in grudging acquiescence. "I hope, indeed, Imay be."