Delphi Collected Works of Max Brand US

by Max Brand

  “Easily,” said Tizzo. “I have seen Antonio Bardi, plotted with him the opening of Perugia, and heard the voice of Marozzo announcing that a double guard is on the walls. Perugia buzzes like a hornet’s nest. It is known everywhere that you have escaped, that Lady Beatrice is inside the walls, and that I am here, also. We have from now until daylight to devise a means of getting out of Perugia. As soon as the sun is up, we shall be found, even if we squeeze ourselves into a rathole.”

  It was much later when Tizzo looked up and saw the pale blue-green invading the sky and making the stars a trifle dim.

  “Day is almost here,” he said, “and we are no nearer the solution.”

  “True,” said Melrose. “But the glory is, Tizzo, that when we are found, I shall be able to swing a sword and die like a man. Strength has come back to me!”

  The girl stirred a little. She, abandoning the problem to the two men, had been sound asleep, her head on the shoulder of Tizzo. Now she yawned and stretched, then rose, settled her hat on her head, and looked about her.

  “What have you decided, my masters?” she asked.

  “We have decided that Perugia is as good a place as the next one to die in,” said Tizzo.

  “We could try to get over the wall at some low place,” said the girl.

  “The walls have a double guard,” said Tizzo. “We might begin to climb down, but we’d be full of crossbow quarrels before ever we got to the bottom of the great walls.”

  “Can we bribe the guard at a gate?”

  “I’ve thought of that. But nothing we can offer will be worth a tithe of the immense reward that Jeronimo della Penna will give for our capture.”

  “That is true, of course,” said the girl.

  She began to walk up and down, whistling very softly.

  Then she said: “Tizzo, if I cannot follow you, you must follow me.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “In silence and with a little hope,” she answered. “Come! Let us go!”

  CHAPTER 45

  ALFREDO, THE SON of Lorenzo, got to the stable shed, fed his mules, harnessed them, watered them, and at last led them out to hitch them to the vast two-wheeled cart whose creakings and squeakings could be heard almost through Perugia. The cart was heaped with a load of rubbish of all sorts, collected in the latter half of the preceding day.

  But as he brought the mules out, pulling their stubborn heads along with a powerful hand, he saw three figures, dim in the half-light of the dawn, standing in his yard. One, the largest by far of the three, leaned against the wall, as though very weary. Another remained near the big man, wrapped in a cloak.

  The third, a mere strip of a boy, advanced toward him, saying: “Well met, Alfredo!”

  Alfredo picked a good thick club off the top of the loaded cart.

  “Before daylight there are no good meetings,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “A friend,” said the stripling.

  “You lie,” said Alfredo. “I have no friends except the gray mule, there. He would do something for me in a time of trouble, I think.”

  “Nevertheless, I am a friend,” said the youth.

  “Prove it,” said the carter.

  “One day the carriage of a noble passed and thrust your cart off the road. The cart was broken in the ditch. The next day I brought you money to buy a new one.”

  “May all the highblood in Perugia be damned!” said the carter. “The Baglioni first, because they are the leeches, the bloodsuckers, who grow rich on the labor of the poor men. Their taxes eat the marrow out of my bones. But a curse on all men who drive in swift carriages, drawn by galloping, blooded horses; a curse, and a double curse on them all. Now, as for this story you tell me, you have heard of the thing, but the truth is it was the noble Lady Beatrice herself who brought me the money the next day — the queen of heaven bring her happiness in return for it! — and as for you, you are a liar.”

  “I have told a few lies in my time,” said the girl, “but I am the Lady Beatrice.

  “And this is the Englishman who escaped from the prison of Jeronimo della Penna. This is the baron of Melrose.”

  “This mule next to you — that seems a mule,” said the carter, “is really the winged horse of the poet. Do you think I am a half-wit, my lad? Come, Come! Trouble me no more.”

  “And this,” said the girl, “is Tizzo.”

  The carter, stunned, continued to stare at her for a long time. “Let me see you,” he said. “It is true that you are a woman. Yes. No man ever had legs as sleek and small about the knees as those. But the Lady Beatrice — she would never be fool enough to come here to me for help. And — if that is the great Tizzo, the Firebrand — here — here — look here! This is the thick top of a jousting helmet; yonder is my own ax.

  “Let him try to split this fragment, if he is the man with the magic in his hands!”

  He put a round bit of arched steel on the ground as he spoke but Tizzo, stepping forward, produced his own ax from beneath his cloak.

  “If that is honest steel,” he said, “I shall give you the proof you ask, friend.”

  With that, he flourished the ax through two brief circles, and then struck a flashing blow. The whole head of the ax sank into the ground; the steel helmet top was shorn straight in two.

  Alfredo the carter actually dropped to his knees, and, picking up the two fragments of the steel, stared from one hand to the other.

  At last he looked up with a groan of wonder.

  “No other man in Perugia could do such an enchantment!” he exclaimed. “And it is true that you are Tizzo! And if that is true, all the rest — and — God the Father, this is the Lady Beatrice!”

  He rose slowly to his feet.

  “My Lady,” he said, “ten thousand people are searching for the three of you. Half of Perugia will be given to the man who discovers you. What made you come to me?”

  “Because you carry a load of rubbish out of the town every morning. And this morning you shall carry the three of us in the rest of the worthless stuff.”

  It was not hard to arrange the hiding place. It was done by removing part of the rubbish from the cart and then constructing a little shelter with the use of two hurdles and some crosspieces. Into this stifling hut the three crept, crushed close together, and over the hurdles the carter heaped enough to restore the appearance of the load. After that, Tizzo could hear him calling out to his mules. The cart started with a lurch.

  The wheels were so big that the cart kept jerking from side to side as the wagon passed down the slope of a street over the big cobbles. The carter, walking beside it, kept calling out to the mules. The piece of wood which he used as a brake screamed continually through the friction.

  After a time the cart stopped. There was the familiar, telltale clinking of steel as armored men moved near.

  “I’m Alfredo, son of Lorenzo,” called the carter. “And here’s the load of rubbish that I’m taking into the country this morning.”

  “You won’t take it this morning,” said a commanding voice. “Haul it back to your house. There are orders that nothing, not even a mouse, is to dare to leave Perugia today.”

  “Consider, my captain,” said Alfredo, “that if I turn back, I must haul the weight up the hill. And have pity on my poor mules and myself.”

  “Consider you, fellow?” said the captain. “Would I be such a fool as to consider you when I have myself to consider? Shall I put my head under a sword for the sake of a carter? No, I still have wits left to me.”

  “Let me at least leave the cart here near the gate. Then I can haul it out tomorrow. But to pull the load back up the hill—”

  “Shall I leave the street blocked near the gate? Do as you’re ordered and get the stuff away from here!”

  “Well,” said the carter, “I call you to witness that I have tried to do as his highness commanded me, but the captain of the gate has prevented me.”

  “What highness?” asked the captain.

  “Jeronimo
della Penna. He swore to harry the skin off my body with whips unless I had finished clearing his courtyard of rubbish today,” replied the carter.

  “Ah?” said the captain. “Are you working for Jeronimo della Penna? Did he tell you to do that?”

  “Della Penna is not having any building work done in his courtyard — none that I know of,” said another voice.

  “Not in the courtyard,” said Alfredo. “The work is being done inside the house, but the rubbish of the old walls is heaped in the second courtyard.”

  At this, there was a small laugh. The captain said: “Well, get on your way! If della Penna has given you commands, I suppose they must be executed. Otherwise whips will take the skin off my body. And that’s a tune with different words to it. Get on with you!”

  The cart started forward with another lurch. Again the brake started screaming, but it was a delightful music in the ears of Tizzo. Presently the bumps grew less hard and regular. The wheels were continually rising and descending, making the entire cart rock like a small boat going over waves, so Tizzo could guess that they were voyaging over the ruts and the bumps of the long white road that led among the hills toward the town of Perugia.

  For a long time that journey continued before the cart halted again, and the voice of Alfredo called: “Your highnesses, we are around the shoulder of a hill, and the sight of Perugia is shut off from us. Shall I empty the rubbish here?”

  “Yes, empty it here,” said Tizzo.

  And presently the stuff was being raked away and poured noisily down to the ground beside the road. At last, the three could issue, brushing the dust from their clothes, coughing the dust from their lungs.

  CHAPTER 46

  TIZZO WAS STANDING in the fine quarters of Giovanpaolo, who had taken over the villa of a rich merchant.

  He on one side of the table, big Henry of Melrose on the other, attacked a great roast of veal with their knives and fingers and drank plentifully of good red wine. Lady Beatrice, still in her boyish costume, walked up and down the room eating, with all the hungry abandon of a true boy, some bits of cold chicken and stopping at the table to sip wine. While Giovanpaolo, work thrust aside for the moment, enriched his eyes with the picture before him.

  There was another member of the group, for a short time, and that was the carter, Alfredo, son of Lorenzo. He, dusty cap in hand, blinked his one eye at Giovanpaolo and was unable to name the reward he expected. He could only say: “Another pair of mules would be a blessing to the four who now work for me, your highness!”

  “You shall have ten pairs of mules,” said Giovanpaolo.

  “No, in the name of God!” cried Alfredo. “For where should I put ten pairs in my shed?”

  “You shall have larger quarters!” exclaimed Giovanpaolo.

  Alfredo shook his head, saying: “Too big a bite of good fortune may choke me. Let me swallow happiness morsel by morsel, my lord. But when Perugia is retaken—”

  “Are you sure that we shall retake it, Alfredo?” asked Giovanpaolo.

  “The wisdom of your lordship will surround it,” said Alfredo, “and the fire of Tizzo will burn a way through the gates. Oh, yes, Perugia will be yours again, and soon! But when it is taken, if I could have the honor of running at the side of Tizzo and watching the ax of his honor at work on the heads of traitors, I would have something that would keep me in talk whenever I sat down to a cup of wine, so long as I live.”

  “You shall not run beside me; you shall ride on the finest warhorse in the camp. What else will you have, Alfredo?” said Tizzo.

  “Leave to go away for a little while and catch my breath,” said Alfredo.

  “So!” said Giovanpaolo, when the carter had gone. “I felt like a one-armed man — I felt like poor young della Penna, Tizzo, when you were gone from me. But why did you go, Beatrice?”

  “Because,” said the girl, “I had to see Tizzo again if only to tell him that his brain is as wild and as dizzy as the color of his hair.”

  “She had to come,” said Tizzo, “in order to show me the trap I was entering, and spring it by throwing herself into danger; she had to come in order to save my father and myself in the first great moment of danger; she had to come in order with her fine wit to have us both carried safely again out of the town.”

  “My lord of Melrose,” said Giovanpaolo, “now that you have come to us, you will always be welcome. Your strength will make itself felt when we storm the city. But tell me only one thing: Why did you let Tizzo go this long time without telling him that he is your flesh and blood?”

  “Because like a fool I thought that the time had not yet come,” said the Englishman. “What had the boy got from me? A chance to win hard knocks in the world, only! But I hoped that before long I would be able to give him a house and lands and fine horses and a whole armory of axes and swords and spears and everything else that he prizes most in the world. When I could, one day, take him into that paradise and say: ‘Tizzo, all this is yours; it is your father who gives it!’ Then, when I could do that, I felt that he might incline to forgive me. But, as I said before, I was a fool.”

  “Nothing is folly that has a glorious ending,” answered Giovanpaolo. “When you have eaten, Tizzo, tell me what you have done.”

  “No, Giovanpaolo. I’ll simply tell you what to do. Have your scouts, every day, sharpen their eyes when they ride toward Perugia, and above all, let them look toward the tower of the house of Antonio Bardi. For, one day, many flags will appear on that house, and one of them will be red. In whatever direction that red flag is placed, be sure that the same night the gate toward which it is set will be in the hands of our friends and will be opened. The Lady Atlanta, Luigi Falcone, Bardi, have all been drawn into a pact. They will act for you.”

  “Have you done that?” cried Giovanpaolo. “Then, if only the time comes before the lord of Camerino has advanced his men to the rescue of the town, we have still one chance in three of conquering Perugia!”

  * * * * *

  The lord of Camerino, in fact, did not advance suddenly to the relief of the city of Perugia. He was gathering a strong force, and it was plain that his thought was actually to meet Giovanpaolo in the field and beat him out of it with sheer numbers. Merely to throw his forces into the city was not to his taste.

  And so a few days intervened which were a priceless gift to Henry of Melrose, among the rest. For, every day, he was twenty hours in bed, and four hours on horseback or exercising gingerly with weapons, feeling his way back to a strength which grew momently. And this same leisure time was used by young Tizzo in adoring his Lady Beatrice, in drinking wine with boon companions — for the entire camp was his companion — in playing dice, in riding races against the other youngsters on their finest horses, in fencing, wrestling, running, leaping, practicing with his great blue-bladed ax, in twanging a harp and composing songs to his own music, in the reading of a curious old Greek manuscript which Giovanpaolo, knowing his taste, had presented to him, in thumbing out little models of clay — for one day he swore that he would be a sculptor like that great broken-nosed genius, Michelangelo — in sleeping, eating, laughing, laboring, and filling every day to the brim with his abundant activities. For every moment his flame-blue eyes were open, they were employed with the first object or the first thought that came his way.

  Lady Beatrice said to him: “Do you love me, Tizzo?”

  He answered: “Love you? No! Love is no word for it. I love your beauty and hate your smallness; I worship your dignity and despise your arrogance; I adore and I detest you. I revere and I scorn you. If you were an inch taller I should spend all my days on my knees giving up offerings to your beauty. If you were a shade more gentle, I should perish from the greatness of my devotion. If you had not the claws of a cat as well as the velvet grace of one, I should die, instantly, because my heart would burst with joy. Therefore, never change, Beatrice!”

  “If there were ten of me,” said the Lady Beatrice, “I might be enough to keep a tenth part of your thoughts
for the tenth part of a year. But as it is, you must be off every moment to some other diversion. Where are you going now, you dizzy-wit?”

  “I must keep an appointment, my love,” said Tizzo. “Beatrice, I must go at once to see Giovanpaolo. He wishes to speak with me on a matter of the greatest importance, an affair of the attack, and I am late for the appointment already!”

  He rose at once and went to find the quarters of his friend.

  * * * * *

  He found there, not only Giovanpaolo, but also his father, and the leaders of the host, who quickly gave him place until he was close to Giovanpaolo.

  And Giovanpaolo said to him, with a smile: “What have I interrupted? Hawking, hunting, fencing, jousting, racing, drinking, gambling, story-telling, idling, or merely silly talk?”

  “I have been doing all those things,” answered Tizzo, gloomily. “And I was thinking, on my way here, that a man who serves the great is never his own master.”

  “That is true,” answered Giovanpaolo. “And whenever you are the true master, God help those who are your enemies — or your servants, perhaps. They will be rich today and beggared tomorrow. But, to the point. We have had scouts out toward Perugia all this time, and at last one has returned with a sweating horse to say that flags fly from the tower of the house of Antonio Bardi, and one of those flags is red, and lies in the direction of the gate of San Pietro.”

  “Then the city is ours!” cried Tizzo, in a fervor.

  “True, Tizzo, true,” said Giovanpaolo, “if we may take the gate of San Pietro and so master a friendly ward and the lower city. But still the main city will be lost to us, and in the higher city is all the strength and the force of Perugia.”

  “We may take the gate of San Pietro,” said Tizzo, “and then we must rush on to the next gate into the city.”