The Royal Pawn of Venice
XIV
Hagios Johannes, the holiest man in Cyprus, stood waiting in the vast,empty presence-chamber of the young Queen; for, since the sudden deathof Janus, there had been no court-life in this palace of Potamia, andthe gloom hung most heavily over the more sumptuous halls of ceremony.
Hagios Johannes--_the holy John_--they called this prior of the House ofPriests from Troodos--the Mountain of the Holy Cross--after the name ofthe earlier Saint who had made the spot famous for the holiness of hisliving, for his boundless charity and the wisdom of his judgments, sothat the people had gone to him in ceaseless procession with their sinsand woes in the days of primitive Christianity in Cyprus, and hadreturned to their peasant homes the stronger to endure and to renounce.Johannes the Lesser, this one called himself--being truly great anddevout of heart, so that his vision was wise and true as that of HagiosJohannes the Greater.
A curtain at the further end of the audience-chamber parted to admit astately figure in mourning-robes, as the Lady Beata of the Bernardiniadvanced to meet him, bringing the message that the Queen would receivehim in an inner cabinet.
"She is very worn and tired, most Reverend Father, and in years so nearto childhood that the nobility and strength of her resolve aremarvellous. And the comfort that she seeketh of thee she doth mostsorely need."
The eyes of this strong and faithful friend gleamed with unshed tears asshe turned them upon the prior, in tender appeal.
But to Hagios Johannes all courts were strange; the life of his mountainoverflowed with possibilities of ministration which busied all hispowers, and it was the first time that he had ever entered any of thepalaces of the luxurious Kings of Cyprus--of which, perhaps, this summerpalace of Potamia was the most sumptuous. The long corridors of preciousmarbles, with intricate carvings and gleamings of gold and mosaicdispleased him, though he had no knowledge of their worth or beauty; buthe stood aghast at the magnificence of the audience-chamber, and thehuge Assyrian bulls which guarded the entrance gave a hint of paganpower and oppression which instantly angered him.
The appeal of the gracious Lady Beata but roused his indignation.
He was a stern, wild figure with his flowing beard, his long hairfalling straight and unkempt about his brown throat; and his sombremonk's garment was wrought on breast and shoulders with a salient crossof natural thorns--the symbol of those monks of Troodos--the Mountain ofthe Holy Cross; and the Lady Beata trembled for the interview that wasto be, as he answered her rudely:
"The dwellers in palaces of ivory have naught to do with wild men of themountains who live close to nature and care only for suffering humanity.I have Christ's work to do; let others bring her rose-leaves and honeyedwords."
She laid a gentle, detaining hand upon him as he thrust aside thecurtain of the inner chamber.
"Most Reverend Father, are not the words of our Lord and Saviour, aswell for those who suffer in palaces, as for the wanderers and poor uponthe earth?
"Are not the wounds of the spirit as deep in anguish as those of thephysical man?
"May not the burdens of rulers be greater than those of the ruled?--Havecompassion upon our Queen!"
"Christ knoweth not kings," he answered her, as he shook off her lighttouch--"save only those who bow to Him: and the mighty amongmen--aye--even he who calleth himself His Vicar upon earth--are puffedup with pride and know in their hearts no virtue in this--His sacredsymbol." He pressed his rough hand hard against the thorns upon hisbreast as he spoke. "Hath not he--this false and sumptuous Vicar--butnow asserted that we, of the Holy Greek Church have no part in theCommunion of the Holy Catholic Church on earth? Did Christ call theLatins only?" he ended fiercely.
It was a grievance that rankled; and Hagios Johannes had not learned thegracious art of self-control, being accustomed to feel that whatever hethought or wished was good--his hatred as well as that which appealed tohim--since he honestly sought nothing for himself, despising riches andstation from the depths of his soul, with an open scorn for the greatones of earth and an imperious assertion of his own methods andjudgments which he would have denounced in any earthly ruler, howeverwise. He never dreamed himself an autocrat over that continuous streamof pilgrims who made their way into the House of Priests on Troodos:they were chiefly peasants, rude in ways and understanding, whoseaccustomedness to absolute methods and short words made their obediencethe swifter; and the few more learned ones who came to consult him knewthat in his heart he was faithful and seldom treasured the offenseagainst him--though they may have decried his wisdom. But these camemore rarely as his absolutism grew upon him, and the prophet of themountains came down to the cities of the plains only to see the luxuryof them--the sin and godliness of them, and to denounce them, inunmeasured words.
Within his soul, although he did not confess it to himself, thegenerations of men were separated by a wide impassable gulf--the richand ruling class, the godless, on one side; the poor, the suffering andlowly--the to-be-saved,--on the other, and none ever passed across thedeep abyss. He would have challenged any man who counted _him, FatherJohannes_, in his hempen garment studded with thorns, among the rulersof men!
The youthful Queen, weary and worn indeed from the perplexities andstruggle of the two long nights and days that had elapsed since she hadsent her Councillor on his quest of "the holiest man in Cyprus," rosefrom her couch as the prior entered and advanced to meet him with agracious reverence.
But he, unconscious of any rudeness, spoke at once, without turning hiseyes upon her, and offering no homage.
"I am a plain man from the Mountain of the Holy Cross, your Majesty; Iknow naught of the ways of Courts. The matter should be great thatcalleth me from my work. Let it be presented, that I may be dismissed."
She was almost too weak to stand, and the rebuff smote her to the quick;her lip trembled slightly, but she only stretched out her hand to herbeloved friend, drawing her close and leaning lightly upon her shoulder,that she might feel the support of loving companionship in her greatneed.
Father Johannes had been vaguely conscious of some movement in thechamber and involuntarily he turned towards this royal lady whom, asyet, he had never seen, but whose urgent summons had roused hisindignation.
She looked so young and fair and simple in her heavy folds ofmourning--so worn from vigil, with the lines of anguish and of a strangestrength written in her white girl-face--that she might have been thevision of some youthful saint, wearing the rough cross of Troodos uponher breast, beneath her robe: and for a moment, the holy man wasstartled--did such heavenly visions, in truth, visit the palaces of thegreat?
There was a moment of stillness in which his wonder grew.
The breeze blew faintly in through the great arched openings, behindwhich rose the mountain chain that led to his own Troodos; there werethe groves of pine, darkly green, below the hills, with their deepsolitudes for prayer and meditation between the vast gnarled trunks; andthe group of the two noble women before him--severely simple--was avision of love and womanly grace and spiritual need; the younger one,all pleading and pain, clinging to the elder who closely enfolded her,her face strong in the strength of love. It was not like any life thathe had ever seen--this holy man, whose personal life had been solitaryand whose knowledge of human love, as it is known in happy homes, haddied long years ago with the passing of the mother who had borne him inher heart. It might be that he needed such a vision to redeem his spiritfrom the harshness which sin and pride in high places, and want andcrime and poverty of spirit among ignoble ones, had made him grow tothink the whole of life!
He was very weary and his vision was not clear; for the previous day hadbeen a solemn fast, and he had walked far and long since the earlymorning, that he might be the less delayed. He felt like kneeling wherehe stood--if perchance it should be a vision!--But he only bowed hishead and waited--and his weakness passed.
The younger one--the maiden with that strange mystery of pain andstrength in her white face, was coming towards him.
"Father,"
she said, "hath none offered thee refreshment? Thou mustindeed be weary, for the way is long. Zia, let us be served here--insight of the great forest that will seem like home to our good Padre."
"Nay, nay," he interposed quickly, with an effort to shake off thisincomprehensible spell and return to his wonted mood of protest, "for Ihave never banqueted in the palace of a Queen--your Majesty."
"Let it be brought," Caterina said, turning to the Lady Beata, "a simplemeal; for I myself have need, having tasted nothing since the long vigilof the night--being too sore from my great perplexity." For she divinedthat she must be alone with the prior to melt his mood, which grievedher; but she had not the less faith in his judgment for his hatred ofroyalty, and at all costs she had the grace to crave for truth in thequestions she would ask of him.
"My Father," she said with winning gentleness when they were alone, "wewill speak together as father and daughter--it will be better so, for Iwas not born to Majesty, and I have sent to ask of thee thy counsel, forlife is difficult. And for my hospitality--is it not offered to thepilgrim in thy House of Priests of the Troodista? Hath not our LordHimself commanded the giving of the cup of water?"
He was startled at her learning: surely it was rare that women out ofholy orders had such knowledge of Christian traditions. He looked at herreverently, still wondering, and would have spoken to excuse his roughspeech, but that he knew not how to frame a thought so strange and new.
She motioned him to a seat where a table had been spread under the deeparches that looked toward the forest. There were wines and fruits intempting chalices of rainbow glass and low baskets of ivory andchiselled silver, cooling with snow from the mountain; figs fromLefcara; _caistas_, golden and delicious, emitting a fragrance ofglorified nectarine that rivalled the perfume of the wine itself;pomegranates--the gift of a goddess to the thirsty Cyprian land,planted, as was well known, by the royal hand of Aphrodite herself, eachfruit holding a fair refreshment for a torrid Cyprian day in itssparkling, semilucent, ruby pulp: ortolans from the sea-coast, steepedin wine.
The table was a slab of oriental alabaster, polished like a jewel,upheld by griffins with outthrust tongues curiously contorted andentwined. But beyond the silken curtains of the palace-windows theforest and the hills, with a wandering breath of coolness from themountain-breeze, drew and welcomed him, with some faint, new perceptionof the oneness of God's earth.
She had banished with a glance the maiden who stood waiting with herlute to give the customary accompaniment to the meal, and they werequite alone.
He crumbled his bread and swallowed his wine like a hungry man, drawingthe wild, purple figs nearer, unconscious of the dainties which she didnot press upon him, while he tasted the familiar food--the food whichhis Lord Christ had blessed to man's uses. So, also, the luxury of theservice passed unnoticed, as he fixed his eyes on the distant darks ofhis own forest, with the "Troodista" rising on a peak far, faraway--that haven of distressed souls to whom he was a father ofconsolation. Her fingers toyed with the fruit that lay untasted beforeher, while the difficulty of speech struggled within her. Yet he felt,subtly, as he kept his eyes upon the hills, that he was in sight of theshadow of a soul in pain, and he waited--for once, oblivious of thedistance between a palace and a convent.
"Thou art born a Greek, my Father?" she questioned. "Thou art a priestof the Greek Church--which my people love?"
The commanding habit of a lifetime was strong upon him and again hisresentment rose to quench the softer mood which was possessing him, andof which he was afraid.
"I knew not that I had been summoned from my work for Christ to answerof myself," he said sternly. "If thou hast need of counsel, tell itquickly."
Again her lip quivered at the hurt, but she put it aside bravely, as sherose and moved backward for a pace further into the shadow. "I ask itfor my people's sake--I being their Queen," she said, "and knowing thatmy people are rather Greek in feeling, I would do naught to hurt them."
How tenderly the words "my people" fell from the lips of this young,Venetian woman, who seemed almost a child--had their imperious GrecianQueen, Elena Paleologue ever so uttered them? Had she not named a boy tothe highest See in the gift of their church--with no thought offitness--but solely that he might be put aside lest he come between herand her greed of domination? Had she not plotted murder and whateverelse might lie between her and the accomplishment of her will? His heartmelted within him, and he rose and followed Caterina into the chamber.
"The most Holy Father of Rome hath of late been prejudiced against theKing--my husband--and I sought for one who might give me counsel,unprejudiced."
If she had been a wily diplomat she could not better have wielded theprior's mood than by this unconscious utterance.
"So help me God, I will strive to help thee in counsel," he answeredfervently. "But are there not men, set apart as Councillors for therealm, to aid one so young in the ruling of her kingdom?"
"Aye, Father," she admitted sadly, "but it is to steady mine ownjudgment _to judge of theirs_--that I have sent for thee. The questionis not for Court Councillors, but for one who hath no part nor lot inthis matter--who is often in meditation on holy matters, and hath wonwisdom."
He made a motion of deprecation, but she went on speaking in her clear,even voice, still questioning: "Thou knowest well the history of thekings of Lusignan?"
He bowed his head in assent.
"And the history of the life of the King--my husband?" She dwelt on theword with inexpressible tenderness--the slight pause that followed itwas like unuttered music.
Did she know? Was it possible that she knew? he asked himself.
But the question came again.
"And the provisions of his will--for myself and for--for others?" A waveof color had flushed her cheek and brow.
He looked at her searchingly, seeking for words that might best comfort."I know them," he said, "the provisions of the will having been told meby your Majesty's messenger: and I, being a Greek, and the friend of thepeople, that which toucheth them, toucheth me. My daughter, the sins ofthe race descend from father to son, and are in the blood; and therehath been no loving care of holy women about his childhood--which shouldbe remembered and win forgiveness."
"It is no question of forgiveness," she answered proudly, "of which Iwould speak with thee--_that_ lieth between our Holy Mother in Heavenand the souls of those who suffer." She seemed to dismiss the subjectwith an imperious wave of her slight hand. "It is a question of humanjudgment in which that of a holy man may avail, but in which thisknowledge is necessary--else had it not been spoken of."
She paused for a moment to gather strength, while the old man watchedher in growing wonder--so young--so wronged--so tender--so brave--sostrong to endure!
Hagios Johannes the elder had been known through the long years of hiscanonization as _Lampadisti_, the _illumined_: and as the priorlistened, he prayed with fervor that the wisdom of his saintedpredecessor might descend upon his soul.
"My Father," she resumed with a great effort, "I knew not of thishistory of the last of our Kings of Cyprus, until my marriage had beenmade.... I knew not of any right of Carlotta, being _own_ daughter tothe King, the father of my husband"--again that tremulous pause ofunuttered music--"to contest the crown with him, until I learned it inCyprus, these few weeks past."
Her head drooped lower, but she went on resolutely. "I knew not, until Icame to Cyprus--for they who knew and should have told me, held theknowledge from me--that any might question the right of Janus--myhusband--to this kingdom of Cyprus--he being only son to the King. For Iknew not that his mother was _not_ the Queen, until I came hither."
She paused again to gather strength, lifting her guileless great eyes tohis, in agonized appeal, while he watched her dumbly.
"And now, my Father," she said, throwing back her head with suddenvigor, and with the dignity of a great resolve, "this is my question,which hath come to me in the watches of the night and will not bedenied, and for which I have summoned th
ee. I--being wife to Janus, whohath been crowned King of this people--and I, with him, crowned Queen;and by his will left Queen of Cyprus--with Council, appointed by him, tohelp me rule; shall I, a Christian woman--a Venetian and _not_ aCyprian--his widow--_hold this kingdom against Carlotta_, who isdaughter to the King, the father of my husband--and to the rightfulQueen, Elena--his father's lawful wife?"
He was dumbfounded and could not answer her at once; but while he soughtfor words he bowed his head in mute reverence.
"My daughter," he said at length, "hath this question been put to theeby any men of Cyprus?"
"Nay, Father; but it hath come to me in these sad nights, because I fainwould do the _right_--that which is well for my people: and life is verydifficult."
"My people," again, uttered with the accent of a mother who folds herchild to her heart--it was a revelation; but he must probe more deeplybefore he could answer her.
"And this palace--and all the palaces of this estate?" he asked slowly,as if he could not comprehend her. "Thou wouldst renounce this splendorwhen none hath asked it of thee?"
"I would even bear the weight of it, if it be _right_," she said,"though rest were sweeter."
"Thou wouldst be free, perchance, to seek thy home in Venice?"
"Nay, nay!" she exclaimed, shrinking from him--"never Veniceagain--since she hath sent me hither, knowing all, and told me not. Icannot go back to Venice!"
He pondered gravely.
"Then what is thy will, my daughter?"
"To do the right!" she cried vehemently; "out of my own great sorrow toexpiate the wrong! May it not be, my Father, if I shrink not from theright at any cost?"
"I will consider," he said, "since thy will is strong for thissacrifice."
"Sacrifice!" she cried, in her amazement breaking all reserve. "Oh,Father! To call _this_ 'sacrifice,' when the very light of life is gonefrom me! He was so beautiful and gracious--with such a light in hiseyes--and I thought--oh, I _thought_ we were so happy! And now--oh, God,it breaks my heart--I _loved_ him!"
"Daughter----"
"May not the suffering of one atone for another's sin?" she questionedfeverishly.
"Nay--leave that thought, it is too heavy for thee: and not revealed tomen, that they may declare it."
"Pray for him, Father! Thou wilt pray for him--thou and all those whocome to thee. There will be many, many prayers and God will hear. Forhis people loved him--none could stay from loving him, he was sowinsome. Mother of Mercies, thou wilt take my anguish for hisatonement!--_Oh I suffer!_"
The words came in a low moan, wrung from her unaware. Father Johannescaught the small hands which she had flung out before her clenched, inher passionate struggle for control, and with faltering motions ofunaccustomed gentleness, he soothed her until she had grown quieter andhe could unclasp them. Then he spoke strange words, out of a greatcompassion:
"Christ knoweth; for He is Love--and He will save!"
"There is more," she gasped with her spent voice--"but I dare not nameit--the thought of it is torture. But it is not true; Madonna mia! it_is not_ true!"
The strong man could bear no more; he groaned in spirit and ground hishands against his breast--his lip curling with scorn at the pain of hisown torn flesh. "Tell it!" he commanded; "it _cannot_ be true."
She looked at him, hope dawning in her stricken face. "The words theyspeak--they who are his enemies--that he had forsworn his faith: it isnot true."
"It is the very machination of the Evil One!" he thundered. "I know theslander and the man who fathered it, for spite. And may Heaven forgiveits maker--for he hath need--standing high in the holy place of Earth. I_know_ it is not true!"
He looked his faith into her eyes until he had banished her terror, andshe put out her wan hand, grateful, for his assurance.
Then he turned from her abruptly and wandered away to weigh herquestion, looking into the depths of the great forest while he ponderedand prayed to be enlightened. He must have sight of his own solitudes ifhe would keep his judgment free, and though she called to him, timidly,thinking he had forgotten her, he made no answer, being not yet ready.Surely, it could not be God's will that so fine a spirit should resignher claim to their uneasy crown!
It was long before he returned to her side, for the shadows werelengthening and a crimson light flamed in the West.
"Daughter," he said with deep solemnity, "it hath come to me with fulllight in answer to thy question, that thou, being crowned Queen andconsecrated in the Duomo of Nikosia, together with King Janus, thyhusband--whom this people loved--and decreed by him to hold this realm,which--for the first time in many years, and by his hand, is now unitedunder one sovereign, that thy duty biddeth thee hold and rule it againstall other claimants--were it even Carlotta who hath once been called itsQueen.
"Rule thou this people with the fear of Heaven in thy true heart--so Godshall make thee wise!"
She came slowly, as to a heavy task, and knelt before him, with claspedhands, kissing the crucifix which he held out to her; the red lightstreamed through the arches with a fierce illumination.
"Father--and Janus!" she cried--"hear my vow!
"To do for my people as Heaven and the Madonna shall teach me: to bearthem in my heart and seek their happiness; to live for them alone! Andif harm hath been--oh God, if harm hath been done--to nerve me to themore strenuous duty, that wrong may be forgiven!"