by Frank Payton
“I confess that you do, my Lady, but I would liefer see you as you were yestereve. But if you are to be our guide, let us away to see the delights of your fine city by the sea.”
We two rode together behind Marco and Niccolo, who served as the heralds of our approach. As Marco was familiar with his home city, only a brief word or two from Proserpina was needed for him to lead us along the way in which she wished to proceed. Giles brought up the rear of our little group, followed at a distance of twenty or thirty yards by the two archers.
Our passing along the busy streets, and through the fine squares, or piazzi, as Marco had taught me to say, caused great excitement amongst the people. Heads turned, fingers pointed, and other individuals were fetched from shops and houses to witness our little cavalcade. In time, we passed into a quieter section of the city where venerable palaces lined the streets. The facades of these fine houses were built of white and black marble, which was most striking. Here also were churches with similar decoration, and overlooking the harbour area stood a vast cathedral.
“There! Sir John!” cried Proserpina. “Behold our wondrous Cathedral of San Lorenzo, guarding the city and the ships in the harbour. Is it not truly beautiful?”
“Yes, it is very fine indeed, as fine as I have ever seen in either England or France. But more beautiful to me is a certain lady, who, from what I am told, lacks a bold knight to tell her so.”
She struggled to answer this, perhaps being surprised by my blunt approach. Rose-red blushes chased across her cheeks, and, for a moment she hung her head. Then despite her confusion she looked up at me undaunted. “I have heard few such words from our young men. They flee my presence, and run home to their mothers when they witness my nature, and my behaviour.” She sighed. “I confess, Ludovico is right. I am a harpy, and impatient with courtly dalliance. But now, from you, I have met that strength and directness for which I have pined in vain.”
“I had hoped to hear you speak thus, Proserpina, for I too am blunt and direct by my nature. I was born into a large family, free, but in an estate below your own nobility. When young, I laboured in a stinking tannery owned by my father. On his death, my elder brother, also named John, took the inheritance. Since I did not wish to be his slave, I went for an archer in the King’s army. Now, I am as you see me, raised to knighthood, and leader of an army in a foreign land. Despite this, I shall remain ever faithful to England and her King. Someday, I shall return there.” I paused. “Would you follow me?”
She drew in her breath. “I have heard that England is a cold, dark land, where rain falls daily, and the sun is rarely seen. It would be hard for me to live without the sun.” She looked at me from under long dark eyelashes. Any passerby seeing that glance would have known that here was no finely dressed youth.
I laughed at her feigned sadness. “We also have the sun in England, but we have much rain, it is true. Our countryside is wonderfully green because of it, and there are many rivers and small streams full of sound. The woods are thick and full of wild flowers, with many kinds of songbirds and animals. In winter we have snow and icy winds from the north and east. Even then the sun will shine forth from clear blue skies, and then there is no finer sight to be seen.”
This had caught her imagination, for her eyes shone, and she looked eager to ride to England that very day.
“I have only seen snow once, when we travelled north. Ludovico showed me the mountains of France, shining with snow, far away. Yes, I think I could follow you to England, my Giovanni.”
There was then no more to be said.
*****
Four days passed during which Proserpina and I rode out alone, she still in her boy’s disguise. After that first excursion I had deemed it safe enough for us to go without escort, and Ludovico seemed to accept that his sister would come to no harm. He revealed to me privately that she appeared to have changed greatly in her behaviour, especially towards himself.
“I confess myself amazed, nay, astounded at the change in her. Almost overnight, she has cast aside her childish ways. Perhaps Old Taddea was right from the very beginning. You are the right man to take her to wife.”
I clapped my hand to his shoulder. “It is a pleasant prospect, and I do not deny that I am greatly attracted to her, but a wife needs a settled home, and that I cannot offer yet, not here in Italy. This Monferrato affair is but an opening campaign. When it is over, the Company will move on to further employment.”
He nodded his understanding of the position. “Yes, and seemingly there will always be feuds between our cities to provide that work for you and your men. As to a home, there is an answer to that. You will recall that Proserpina spoke of property of her own?”
“I do.”
“This is indeed the case. My sister inherited the tenure of an estate from her maternal grandfather. On her death the property itself must descend to me, or my descendants, unless she herself first has a husband and subsequent issue of her own. Another condition is that Proserpina may not take up her inheritance until she does marry. Up to that time, I hold the estate for her. So you see, Sir John, the problem of a home is solved. As I have said before, both I and Proserpina—whom I love most dearly, although at times it may not appear to be so—owe you our lives. I would welcome you as a brother, and a valuable ally to our family.”
I was greatly moved by this declaration, and it was some little time before I could compose a suitable reply. There stood I, once a poor freeman and common archer of England, being offered entry to an ancient and noble family of one of the oldest city states in Italy.
“I am much affected by your words, Ludovico, and very grateful for your friendship and confidence in me, a stranger but newly come to your land. Let us say that when Monferrato can rest easy that his lands will not again be threatened by the Visconti, I shall return to Genoa and request the Lady Proserpina’s hand in marriage.
“This I pledge you now, and I shall only be diverted from this by sword, lance, arrow, or plague. My word, once given, is not lightly cast aside. Further, so that there shall be no misunderstanding between us, I will myself acquaint the Lady Proserpina with my mind and intent.” I thrust out my hand, and he took it in a firm grasp.
“I agree with all you that intend, and God preserve you safe until your return to us. But now, I have other tidings. On tomorrow’s morn, you and I will have an audience of the Doge and his Council. He has spoken to me on this matter, and is aware of my debt to you. He is also anxious to further good relations between Genoa and England. I have hinted also that you are known to and trusted by your King Edward, and his son, the Prince of Wales.”
“The King will most certainly be pleased to encourage trade between the merchants of Genoa, with its fine fleet of ships, and the ports of England. The wool trade is, I know, very important to him and to the country as a whole. Many goods from the East are traded by your people, and are much desired in my country.”
Ludovico smiled and continued. “Several friends of mine who are members of the Council have promised their support. As I told you, the Grimaldis and Orsinis still smart from their defeat at English hands, but I think they will not win the debate. It was a long time ago, and new matters have arisen which are of importance to both sides. I have little doubt that that we shall prevail. You will get your crossbowmen.”
*****
That conversation took place in late afternoon, after Proserpina and I had returned from our daily ride. On that occasion we had forsaken the city and harbour, and had ridden away up steeper and yet steeper little streets which became tracks, and then mere paths. We rode our labouring horses past groves of lemons and oranges, passing by vineyards and olive groves, and little white painted and red-tiled cottages which seemed to have themselves grown from the soil.
At length we were prevented from going further by the precipitous mountain slopes, which loomed above the city. After tethering the horses to small trees, we turned to look out over the city, and the sea.
“Oh, Giovanni,
how small Genoa appears from here,” cried Proserpina. “The ships in the harbour and out at sea are tiny, like children’s toys.” She was disappointed that her great city had shrunk thus in her sight. “Our great Cathedral, the churches, and palaces have become no more than small pebbles on the shore, and we must be giants to see them so.”
I laughed at her words. “Do not be so cast down. ‘Tis but a trick of sight and distance. When we return, the city will be as great as before. From here we see as giants, but then we shall be smaller than the buildings. But come, we must find water for the horses. See how they hang their heads.”
She spoke in a small voice. “You think me foolish? As a small child? Perhaps I am. Unlike you, I have travelled little: to our estate, which you saw on the road here, perhaps to a farm or two which we own. Once only, when I was very small, we visited my mother’s father at his castle far to the North. He was old and fierce, and had little patience with children. When he looked not, I drank all the wine in his cup. My mother was horrified, and would have sent me away with Taddea, but my grandfather roared with laughter, and pulled me on to his knee, and fed me with little cakes. I am afraid I was a trouble to all, even then.”
“You are not a trouble to me, Proserpina, do not think it. But now, we must find water.”
We began to cast about the area, looking for any kind of fall of water from above, or perhaps a spring. In that we were fortunate, for some little distance to our right we discovered a cleft in the rock-face. Out of this flowed a steady stream of crystal-clear water falling into a rocky bowl, probably carved out by its own action over many years. We brought the horses over, and let them drink their fill from the pool, then found them a patch of fresh green grass, hobbling them each with a length of leather strip.
“They will not stray far,” I told Proserpina. “And now the pool has cleared again from their drinking we should help ourselves, I think.” So saying, I flung myself down on the soft, springy, mountain grass, and, scooping up a double handful of the ice-cool water, doused my sweating head and face. After that I took up several more handfuls, and drank deeply. The water was fresh and sweet, being from the height of the mountain above.
As I began to rise, I felt a light touch upon my shoulder. Proserpina was kneeling by me. I turned and lay looking up at her. She smiled down at me.
“You looked like a small boy as you did that. I have seen village urchins do just the same.”
“Aye, and as a country urchin I have done it many a time in England. This takes me back across the years to Essex, with its woods and small streams. It is a good way to catch fish too, if there be any in the stream worth eating.”
We both fell silent. Waiting.
She reached up and pulled off her velvet cap. Her long hair cascaded down over her shoulders in a golden veil. Reaching up, I crooked my arm about her neck, and she came down to me, and for the first time our lips met and melted in a fragrant golden kiss.
*****
The Council Chamber of Simone Boccanera, Doge of Genoa, was high and lofty, hung about with bright banners and pennons. Sunlight streamed in from narrow windows set high up in the walls.
The Doge sat enthroned on an ornate chair raised on a low dais. About him were gathered senior councillors, greybeards for the most part. All were richly dressed in long robes trimmed with fur, turned with silk and velvet. Many wore jewelled chains and finger rings. As I strode into the hall at the head of my escort I was glad that we had taken considerable care over our own dress and could hold up our heads in such fine company. The chamber was filled on either side with other dignitaries and it was, all in all, a glittering concourse which marked our approach.
By this time I had acquired a reasonable grasp of day to day Italian, but on this occasion I ensured that Marco stood by my right shoulder as interpreter. I knew I could not afford to ruffle the feathers of some of these fine councillors by any misuse of their language.
Ludovico stepped forward from his place in the assembly.
“Your Excellency and Signori, may I present to you the illustrious English knight, Signore Giovanni Haccuud, Sir John, who is now in our midst to seek an alliance which will aid him in his exertions on behalf of Monferrato against the tyranny of Milan. Signore Giovanni is well known to Edward, King of England, and to his renowned son, Edward, Prince of Wales, who is acclaimed on all sides as the very flower of chivalry. I can humbly attest to the qualities of our guest, in that my beloved sister and I were rescued by him and his men from a band of foul brigands, and brought safe home to Genoa.”
“Indeed, we have heard some account of this distressing episode, and thank the good God for your deliverance. The fame of our guest truly goes before him, and he is welcome here. What is the burden of his request to us?” The Doge had a deep, resonant voice which seemed to fill the hall. “We are of course mindful of the qualities of the English and their King, and of the value of trade between England and Genoa.”
Ludovico would have answered here, but I put up my hand to stay him, and I replied through Marco.
“Your Excellency, it is an honour to be allowed to present myself before your Signori, and I thank you for your kind sentiments. In short, I need crossbowmen—the better for me and my Company to campaign against Milan. As you are doubtless aware, Monferrato petitioned the Pope for assistance, and it is he who laid it upon us to go to the aid of the Marquis. Genoa’s crossbows are renowned, and I would hire a goodly company to add to our strength.”
My words caused a rustle of conversation amongst the assembly, and already I could hear some dissenting voices raised in protest. I drew this to Ludovico’s attention.
“That is the faction which looks to Milan,” he whispered in my ear. “They defer to Bernabo in secret, and would favour closer alliance with him. Fortunately, they are in a minority. Although the Doge himself was reinstated in his office by the Viscontis, he values the freedom of the city.”
Marco spoke on my other side. “The matter of our losses at Crecy has been mentioned.”
“Who is it who now speaks to the Doge?” I asked, indicating one of the councillors.
“It is Carlo Grimaldi, once a commander of the crossbows. He is old now, and he was at Crecy. He may oppose you strongly, but I know him to be a fair and just man. We must wait and see.”
“I am placed in a quandary by your request, Signore Haccuud,” the Doge spoke again. “On one hand I hear voices raised against you, and on the other hand voices in favour of you. There are some here today who were present at Crecy Field, where many of our men were lost. I do not say that it was entirely due to your archers, but whatever the reason, they still smart from the defeat. Then again, those in favour of you point to the need for employment of our men. Many of our young men chafe in idleness, their training rendered of no use in periods of lasting peace. How will your proposition advantage us?”
Again I replied through Marco. “Your Excellency, allow me to say that I too was at Crecy, and witnessed all on that long day of bloodshed. Your own military men will know well that the outcome of battles often turns on almost insignificant happenings. At Crecy there came a sudden heavy rainstorm, which rendered the strings of your crossbows next to useless. I know it can take some time to detach the string from the bow, and place it in a dry spot about the body. With a longbow the case is very different. Its waxed string can be put away safely within ten heartbeats. Thus, when the storm passed, your men had wet bowstrings which did not cast their bolts to the fullest range. I will not speak of the indiscipline of the French, who rode your men down, except to say that upon that day they proved to be your enemy no less than we, who only did our duty by our King and his cause.”
The Doge turned to Grimaldi. “What have you to say to this, Messer? Is this the truth of the matter about which we have heard so much argument down the years?”
“Excellency,” said the old soldier, “it grieves me to say so, but it is a truth I have long harboured in my own mind. Wet, slack bowstrings, of crossbow or otherwi
se, will not cast properly. There is no denying this.”
“And the French?” asked the Doge.
“Neither their King nor his marshals could exercise control over their mounted knights, nor the men-at-arms,” said Grimaldi. “Thousands of them rode over us, hacking and stabbing, eager to rush upon their deaths into the hail of arrows. It has more than once been in my mind that we should have stood with the English that day, and shared in their victory over such caitiff allies.”
Another elderly notable thrust forward, clearly enraged by his fellow councillor. “If your men had had the common sense to place their bows under their pavises, their bowstrings would not have failed. The remainder of your opinion is mere foolishness.”
“If? If?” shouted the first. “If you had been at Crecy, if you had marched twenty miles in rain and mud to that benighted field! If you had been pushed about all day by arrogant French nobility encased in armour on their great horses! If you had been deprived of food, drink and rest before the battle, by our so-called allies, then I think you would have wished yourself on the same side as the English. But where were you, Messer? We all know you were here in Genoa, in your counting house, with your account books and your chests of gold and silver. You cared little for your fellow citizens of this great city, but greatly for the safety of your own skin!”
This drew the beginnings of a further outburst from the other man. Pale with rage, he commenced a torrent of words which I could not follow, but which stopped abruptly when the Doge held up his hand.
“That is enough! You forget yourself, and where you are. If you cannot carry yourself with dignity, you may withdraw.”
Thus dismissed, my opponent drew his robe around his portly figure, and stalked out of the chamber. As he passed I received from him a look of pure hatred. In reply I bowed slightly, and bestowed upon him a faint smile. This could have done little to calm his anger.