Joan of the Sword Hand
Page 36
CHAPTER XXXV
A PERILOUS HONEYMOON
Never was day so largely and gloriously blue since Courtland was a cityas the first morning of the married life of Maurice and Margaret vonLynar, Count and Countess von Loeen. The summer floods had subsided, andthe tawny dye had gone clean out of the Alla, which was now as clear asaquamarine, and laved rather than fretted the dark green piles of theSummer Palace.
The Princesses (so they said without) were more than ever inseparable.They were constantly talking confidentially together, for all the worldlike schoolgirls with a secret. Doubtless Prince Louis's fair sister waspersuading the unruly wife to return to her duty. Doubtless it wasso--ah, yes, doubtless!
"Better that Prince Louis should do his own embassage in such a matterin his proper person," said the good-wives of Thorn. "For me, I wouldnot listen to any sister if my man came not to my feet himself. The LadyJoan is in the right of it--a feckless lover, no true man!"
"Aye," said the men, agreeing for once, "a paper-backed princeling! Godwot, were it our Conrad we should soon hear other of it! There would benone of this shilly-shallying back-and-forth work then! We would givehalf a year's income in golden gulden for a good lusty heir to thePrincipalities--with that foul Muscovite Ivan yearning to lay the knoutacross our backs!"
"There is something toward to-day," said a decent widow woman who livedin the Koenigstrasse to her neighbour. "My son, who as you know is achorister, is gone to practise the Wedding Hymn in the cathedral. I amgoing thither to get a good place. I will not miss it, whatever it is.Perhaps they are going to make the Princess Joan do penance for herfault, in a white sheet with a candle in her hand a yard long! Thatwould be rare sport. I would not miss it for so much as four farthings!"
And with that the chorister's mother hobbled off, telling everybody shemet the same story. And so in half an hour the news had spread all overthe city, and there began to be the makings of quite a respectable crowdin the Dom Platz of Courtland.
It was half-past eleven when the archers of the guard appeared at theentrance of the square which leads from the palace. Behind them, rankupon rank, could be seen the lances of the wild Cossacks of PrinceIvan's escort who had remained behind when the Muscovite army went backto the Russian plains. Their dusky goat-hair tents, which had longcovered the banks of the Alla, had now been struck and were laded uponbaggage-horses and sumpter mules.
"The Prince of Muscovy delays only for the ceremony, whatever it maybe!" the people said, admiring at their own prevision.
And the better sort added privately, "We shall be well rid of him!" Butthe baser grieved for the loss of the largesse which he scattered abroadin good Muscovite silver, unclipped and unalloyed, with themint-master's hammer-stroke clean and clear to the margin. For with suchPrince Ivan knew how to make himself beloved, holding man's honour andwoman's love at the price of so few and so many gold pieces, andthinking well or ill of them according to their own valuation. Therabble of Courtland, whose price was only silver, he counted as nobetter than the trodden dirt of the highway.
Meanwhile, in the river parlour of the Summer Palace, the two Princesseswere talking together even as the people had said. The PrincessMargaret sat on a low stool, leaning her elbow on her companion's kneeand gazing up at him. And though she sometimes looked away, it was notfor long, and Maurice, meeting her ever-recurrent regard, found that anew thing had come into her eyes.
Presently a low tapping was heard at the inner door, from which apassage communicated with the rooms of the Princess Margaret. TheSparhawk would have risen, for the moment forgetful of his disguise, butwith a slight pressure of her arm upon his knee the Princess restrainedhim.
"Enter!" she called aloud in her clear imperious voice.
Thora entered hurriedly, and, closing the door behind her, she stoodwith the latch in her hand. "My Princess," she said in a voice that waslittle more than a whisper, "I have heard ill news. They are making thecathedral ready for a wedding. The Cossacks have struck their tents. Ithink a plot is on foot to marry you this day to Prince Ivan, and tocarry you off with him to Moscow."
The Sparhawk sprang to his feet and laid his hand on the place where hissword-hilt should have been.
"Never," he cried; "it is impossible! The Princess is----"
He was about to add, "She is married already," but with a quick gestureof warning Margaret stopped him.
"Who told you this?" she queried, turning again to Thora of Bornholm.
"Johannes Rode of the Prince's guard told me a moment ago," sheanswered. "He has just returned from the Muscovite camp."
"I thank you, Thora--I shall not forget this faithfulness," saidMargaret. "Now you have my leave to go!" The Princess spoke calmly, andto the ear even a little coldly.
The door closed upon the Swedish maiden. Margaret and Maurice turned toeach other with one pregnant instinct and took hands.
"Already!" said Margaret faintly, going back into the woman; "they mighthave left us alone a little longer. How shall we meet this? What shallwe do? I had counted on this one day."
"Margaret," answered the Sparhawk impulsively, "this shall not daunt us.We would have told your brother Louis one day. We will tell him now.Duchess Joan is safe out of his reach, Kernsberg is revictualled, theMuscovite army returned. There is no need to keep up the masquerade anylonger. Whatever may come of it, let us go to your brother. That willend it swiftly, at all events."
The Princess put away his restraining clasp and came closer to him.
"No--no," she cried: "you must not. You do not know my brother. He iswholly under the influence of Ivan of Muscovy. Louis would slay you forhaving cheated him of his bride--Ivan for having forestalled him withme."
"But you cannot marry Ivan. That were an outrage against the laws of Godand man!"
"Marry Ivan!" she cried, to the full as impulsively as her lover; "notthough they set ravens to pick the live flesh off my bones! But it isthe thought of torture and death for you--that I cannot abide. We mustcontinue to deceive them. Let me think!--let me think!"
Hastily she barred the door which led out upon the corridor. Then takingMaurice's hand once more she led him over to the window, from which shecould see the green Alla cutting its way through the city bounds andpresently escaping into the yet greener corn lands on its way to thesea.
"It is for this one day's delay that we must plan. To-night we willcertainly escape. I can trust certain of those of my household. I havetried them before.... I have it. Maurice, you must be taken ill--liedown on this couch away from the light. There is a rumour of the BlackDeath in the city--we must build on that. They say an Astrakhan traderis dead of it already. For one day we may stave it off with this. It isthe poor best we can do. Lie down, I will call Thora. She is staunch andfully to be trusted."
The Princess Margaret went to the inner door and clapped her handssharply.
The fair-haired Swedish maiden came running to her. She had been waitingfor such a signal.
"Thora," said her mistress in a quick whisper, "we must put off thismarriage. I would sooner die than marry Ivan. You have that drug youspoke of--that which gives the appearance of sickness unto death withoutthe reality. The Lady Joan must be ill, very ill. You understand, wemust deceive even the Prince's physicians."
The girl nodded with quick understanding, and, turning, she sped away upthe inner stair to her own sleeping-chamber, the key of which (as wasthe custom in Courtland) she carried in her pocket.
"This will keep you from being suspected--as in public places you wouldhave been," whispered Margaret to her young husband. "What Thora thinksor knows does not matter. I can trust Thora with my life--nay, what isfar more, with yours."
A light tap and the girl re-entered, a tall phial in her hand. With aswift look at her mistress to obtain permission, she went up to thecouch upon which the Sparhawk had lain down. Then with a deft hand sheopened the bottle, and pouring a little of a colourless liquid into acup she gave it him to drink. In a few minutes a sickly pallor slowlyove
rspread Maurice von Lynar's brow. His eyes appeared injected, thelips paled to a grey white, beads of perspiration stood on the forehead,and his whole countenance took on the hue and expression of mortalsickness.
"Now," said Thora, when she had finished, "will the noble lady deign toswallow one of these pellicles, and in ten minutes not a leech in thecountry will be able to pronounce that she is not suffering from adangerous disease."
"You are sure, Thora," said the Princess Margaret almost fiercely,laying her hand on her tirewoman's wrist, "that there is no harm in allthis? Remember, on your life be it!"
The placid, flaxen-haired woman turned with the little silver box in herhand.
"Danger there is, dear mistress," she said softly, "but not, I think, sogreat danger as we are already in. But I will prove my honesty----"
She took first a little of the liquid, and immediately after swallowedone of the white pellicles she had given Maurice.
"It will be as well," she said, "when the Prince's wiseacre physicianscome, that they should find another sickening of the same disease."
Thora of Bornholm passed about the couch and took up a waiting-maid'sstation some way behind.
"All is ready," she said softly.
"We will forestall them," answered the Princess. "Thora, send and bidPrince Louis come hither quickly."
"And shall I also ask him to send hither his most skilled doctors ofhealing?" added the girl. "I will despatch Johannes Rode. He will goquickly and answer as I bid him with discretion--and without askingquestions."
And with the noiseless tread peculiar to most blonde women of largephysique, Thora disappeared through the private door by which she hadentered.
The Princess Margaret kneeled down by the couch and looked into the faceof the Sparhawk. Even she who had seen the wonder was amazed and almostfrightened by the ghastly effect the drug had wrought in such shortspace.
"You are sure that you do not feel any ill effects--you are perfectlywell?" she said, with tremulous anxiety in her voice.
The Sparhawk smiled and nodded reassuringly up at her.
"Never better," he said. "My nerves are iron, my muscles steel. I feelas if, for my Margaret's sake, I could vanquish an army of PrinceIvan's single-handed!"
The Princess rose from her place and unlocked the main door.
"We will be ready for them," she said. "All must appear as though we hadno motive for concealment."
And, having drawn the curtains somewhat closer, she kneeled down againby the couch. There was no sound in the room as the youthful husband andwife thus waited their fate hand in hand, save only the soft continuoussibilance of their whispered converse, and from without the deeper noteof the Alla sapping the Palace walls.