Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  “To the north, Signore. To the north, like the wind. We looked for them no more, but attended to the Count and our wounded comrade. We also had to carry the body of poor Fabrizio back to his house, to his widow and children. He did his best, Signore, but lost his life in the Count’s service.”

  “You also brought the prisoner Alessandro here.” I added, “And gave him a good beating into the bargain.”

  “Yes, Signore,” he said shamefacedly. “Perhaps we should not have done that, but we were so angry.”

  “I understand, but it is good that you did not kill him in your anger, for he has told me much that I wished to know. He is only a poor seaman, not a man-at-arms.”

  I dismissed them then, and later gave Gaetano a purse of silver florins to share amongst them all, making sure that the widow of the dead Fabrizio received a double share. I sat back in my chair and took a sip of wine which Huw had poured for me. I pulled a face at its sourness. Father Pietro smiled.

  “Your Innkeeper’s wine is better than this,” I said. “What do you make of all we have just heard? They are not used to the field of battle, which I think explains the confused account.”

  “I agree, but one thing stands out, and that is the description of the horse. Its rider would certainly appear to be Scacci. Alessandro’s account is thus confirmed.”

  “Yes. I feel I should now seek a private audience of Simone Boccanera. He at least should remember the incident in his Council Chamber on the occasion of my first visit here. I will arrange for a letter to be sent to him without delay.”

  ******

  My letter to Boccanera was carried by Niccolo, who relished that kind of duty. I found him to be a good lad, willing to help wherever and whenever needed. As a kinsman of Ludovico and Proserpina he had entry to places where it would have been difficult for me, a foreigner, to go. He was fond of dashing about on his black mare, and loved a measure of military display, but as Roger Capsey had said when Niccolo arrived at Romagnano, he would be no match for any of us at swordplay. Later, I was able to get one of Jack Onsloe’s men-at-arms to teach him a few points and tricks of fighting with the sword. It saved his life, I know, on more than one occasion.

  He left for Genoa in a flurry of excitement, accompanied by one of the house servants, armed this time with a sword, and I had perforce to contain my impatience until his return.

  *****

  To ease the passage of time, I asked Giles to ride out with me into the countryside in order to explore what lay to the northwards, where Scacci and his men had fled taking Proserpina with them. Alain Mawe came with us, and another of his ventaine, an archer from Cheshire by the name of Tom Nurley. He was a silent sort, dark and serious of face, dressed in the green and white of his kind. Giles told me that Tom had been at Poitiers, and there took captive a high born French noble, for which deed he had received a purse of gold from the Prince’s own hand.

  “I chose him from amongst the others, as he is said to have the long sight,” Alain said. “It could be useful. He was one of our foreriders.”

  In addition I summoned Tesoro, the servant spokesman who had been present at the abduction, to accompany me. “For I wish to see the place where the attack took place, Tesoro.”

  “I will show you gladly, Signore, though my heart fears to return to such a place of sorrow.”

  Thus we five rode out of the walled courtyard, and through the well-ordered fields and vineyards of Ludovico’s estate. It was a fine morning, and in other times I would have enjoyed the excursion, but as it was I felt myself bound by a serious intent. We came at last to a place of open grass fields, where cattle grazed under the sharp eyes of several herdsmen. I had seen Tesoro looking carefully at the ground as we passed, and so was not surprised when he suddenly reined in his horse.

  “Here, Signore, is the place,” he announced. “You can see where the ground is still churned up by horses’ hooves.” He pointed downwards.

  I dismounted and gave Boy’s reins over to him. Giles joined me and we walked over the area, looking about us.

  “Not much to be seen here,” Giles said. “There has been a light rain since, and the cattle have wandered over here as well.”

  “As I can see, but let us see what we may find, anyway.” I called to the others, “Dismount and search this area. Keep your eyes open for anything which may help.”

  Thus we searched about on the ground, but apart from the cut and broken pieces of the servants’ staves with which they had sought to repel Orlando Scacci and his men, there was nothing. At the last, I fetched Tesoro to point out the direction in which the attackers had fled.

  “As I said, Signore, to the north, over there.” He pointed towards the blue shadow of low hills, which overtopped a wooded area some distance off. “That was their way. The last I saw of them was when they passed under the trees. They were riding fast until then.”

  “Very well, we will go the same way.”

  We all took to horse again and headed for the woods, which were about three miles away, by my reckoning. Gradually the trees grew in our sight until we were right under the apron of the woods. The trees were dark and old, a tangle of chestnut, walnut and oak, with an undergrowth of young trees and bushes. We paused at this barrier, and Giles spoke up.

  “Now then, Tom, you’re a forester, I’m told. Find us a way through these woods, if there be one.”

  Tom pushed his archer’s helmet back from his forehead and scratched his brow. “I’ll have to ride along a bit, Master Ashurst, there’s no way here.” He set off, first to our right, ambling along and looking at both the ground and the trees, disappearing from our sight at intervals, either in folds in the earth, or amongst the trees. At about a half-mile away he turned back, and eventually rejoined us.

  “There’s naught that way, Sir John,” he reported, as he passed us, going to our left.

  I slid from Boy’s saddle and let him wander off a little to graze. The others followed suit, and we threw ourselves on the lush springy grass to rest. I pulled a stalk of grass from its leafy sheath and sucked at its sweet wetness, and thought of Proserpina and when we found our love, high on the sunlit hills above Genoa. The sun was warm on my face, and I began to slide into a dreaming sleep that was abruptly interrupted.

  A hoarse call from Tom, away to our left by some hundreds of yards, made us spring to our feet. We swiftly recovered the horses and swung up once more into the saddle. A quick canter, and we clustered around the dour archer who wordlessly handed me a scrap of green silk surely rent from a woman’s apparel.

  I held it to my face and smelled again the perfume which, although faded, I knew to be the one favoured by Proserpina.

  “I found that caught on a bush over there, Sir John. It be from a lady’s dress I reckon, and there’s an opening in the trees, and the tracks of about eight or nine horses, I’d say.”

  “That was well done, Tom. I’ll not forget it. Let us see where this path leads us. Keep a sharp lookout for any more traces of their passage. Tesoro, is this the colour my Lady wore that day?”

  He nodded silently, with a sad face.

  I tucked the piece of silk into the scrip at my belt, and urged Boy forward, following Tom into the cool, green shade. The wood was quiet; any birds which had been singing had fallen silent at our approach. There was an earthy, mouldy smell of last year’s decaying leaves.

  “This path was used, not long ago,” Tom said. “There’s hoof marks going back as well as forward. I’ll wager this is the way your lady was brought, Sir John.”

  “We shall see. Can you see through to the other side of this wood?”

  “Not yet. It’s thick grown, and has not been tended for years. The path is still good though.”

  We carried on in silence for at least another mile before the tangle of trees and bushes thinned out a little. I reined in and held up my hand to stop the others, then sent Tom forward on foot to see what he might.

  After a short time he turned and beckoned me to join him. I dis
mounted and followed. Still keeping within the shelter of the trees, we stood looking out over rolling open countryside. Tom pointed away to a range of low hills, a little to the right.

  “There, Sir John: a big house, or a small castle. See that tower? To the left is a village, I reckon. See, there are red roofs.”

  “You have eyes like an eagle, Tom, but yes, I can just make out where you mean. Now, if there is a tower, a lookout should be able to see any approach in daylight. That is, if there lies the place we are seeking—and we don’t know that yet. We’ll go back now.”

  We returned to the others and remounted our horses. Then we retraced our way through the woods. As we did I wondered if I was riding away from Proserpina, but I had no other course. It would be folly to take armed men against an innocent household and village. I had to await the outcome of my talks with Boccanera, and I needed word of Scacci from the Innkeeper.

  *****

  I dismounted at the door of Ludovico’s estate house. Rummaging in my small saddlebag, I took out an apple which I had saved and offered it to Boy, holding it on the flat of my hand. He took it, crunching the fruit in his large teeth with enjoyment. I stroked my hand down his nose, and he threw up his head as a horse will, and suffered Huw to lead him off to the stables. Giles went off with the two archers, and the servants returned to their duties under Gaetano’s sharp eyes.

  “He is a very big horse, Signore,” said Niccolo, who had been awaiting my return.

  I laughed at his admiration. “And a very brave one. He has never failed me in a charge into battle, and has killed men with his hooves. More than once he has passed through fire for me, which is something most of his kind will not do. Once we had to swim a raging river to escape pursuers, but he did it for me. Now, what word do you have for me from the Doge? First, however, come into the Great Hall, as there may be those out here with large ears for what they should not hear.”

  I took off my helmet as I spoke and gave it to Niccolo to carry for me; I unbuckled my sword-belt and carried it slung over my shoulder. My face felt hot, and I wiped the sweat away with a corner of my jupon, and several times ran my fingers through my hair, which felt as though harvest mice were running about in it.

  There was no one in the Great Hall, and I sat down in a carven wooden chair near a window which looked out over the ornamental garden. The thought came to me that it was there that I saw the dark shadow of Orlando Scacci on the moonlit night of soft hoofbeats, and my later dream of the carrying off of Proserpina. These thoughts were interrupted by a servant who ran into the Hall to ask what I required. I waved him way, not wanting to begin wine drinking so early, and certainly not before taking some food. Niccolo stood waiting.

  “Now then, what sayeth the Doge?”

  “His Excellency invites you to a small reception at his residence on the morrow, Signore.”

  “Is the Doge aware of why I am here once more in Liguria?”

  “I... I think so, Signore,” stammered the boy, clearly somewhat embarrassed.

  “I see, and had he enquired of you concerning the matter?”

  “Yes, Signore. I said merely that it involved your intended marriage to the Lady Proserpina. He seemed satisfied with my reply.”

  An idea was forming in my mind. It might be that Boccanera had deduced the real reason for my visit, knew something of the matter and had issued the invitation to divert the curious.

  “Was the Doge’s Secretary present at your interview with Messer Boccanera?”

  “No, Signore.”

  That was something worthy of note, I thought. “Thank you, Niccolo. You have done very well, and I shall not forget this service. There is, however, one more thing which you can do for me, if you are willing.”

  He brightened, as if at first he had feared dismissal. “Of course, Signore, anything.”

  “On the morrow, I wish you to ride out on the road towards Milan, and keep a look out for a traveller on a grey horse. If you find the right man, it will be Marco Bandini, though he will be poorly dressed, and mayhap dirty and muddy. Do you remember him?”

  “Your squire, Signore? Yes, I remember him. I will do as you wish, early in the morning. When I meet him, what shall I say?”

  “Tell him to come here, clean himself and change into his best apparel. He must then ride to the Doge’s residence. I will need him there."

  “And if I do not find him, Signore? What then? Shall I seek you in Genoa?”

  “In either event, come to the Doge’s residence, with Marco or without him. Be off with you swiftly now. I shall visit the Count.”

  I thrust myself away from the comfort of the chair and made my way to Ludovico’s room, where I knew I would also find Father Pietro. I arrived to find the Count sitting in a chair, and was greeted with a smile. His face was still pale and haggard. The sword wound had woefully sapped his strength, and the red velvet robe which wrapped about him showed his much reduced frame. Grey hairs showed above his brow, and he was certainly very ill, but he tried manfully to make his voice strong and clear.

  “Giovanni! It is good to see you. You find me in better point than of late, but I am still very tired. What have you to say to me today? I hear you have been out and about in my countryside. Have you found anything of use or interest?”

  “I am pleased to find you in good spirits,” I said. “And, yes, I think our ride today has renewed my hopes. If it does not tire you, I will tell of our discoveries.”

  Thus I gave him and Father Pietro a good account of the day, but before I had finished Ludovico had fallen into sleep. I looked at the priest. He laughed quietly.

  “I am afraid your talk has sent our friend to sleep. It will do no harm, and you can repeat the details tomorrow. I will fetch Hal Peasegood to him, and between us we will put Ludovico back in his bed. Do not worry: I shall look in from time to time, and your healer is very attentive to his duties.”

  “It is well I brought him here,” I said. “I will leave Ludovico in your care for the night. Shall you be at the evening meal? Yes? Then I shall see you there.”

  I left Ludovico’s chamber with a heavy heart, hoping that Proserpina would be found and brought home before an even greater tragedy visited her family.

  *****

  Simone Boccanera received his guests in the private garden with its sun-sparkled fountains, bright flowers and fragrant herbs, where a few short months before we had met to discuss the business of recruiting crossbowmen for the Company. The captive leopard still lounged lazily in his cage and gazed listlessly at the onlookers who had gathered to view the unusual beast at close quarters. Several unhooded falcons were also displayed, shifting uneasily on their perches, stretching out their wings and flexing their razored talons. Unlike many, I have a dislike for these birds, since as a boy I had seen a hawk stoop on to a man’s head and tear out one of his eyes.

  I had left Savignone early that morning together with Giles, Huw and Alain Mawe, together with four archers from his ventaine. Jack Onsloe remained behind in command. As before, Giles and I had arrayed ourselves in rich attire with gold chains and other jewellery in an effort to match the brilliance of the Genoese. Huw was also dressed as befitted the page to a knight of my standing. The three of us were met by the Doge’s Secretary, Antonio Certaldo. He greeted us gravely, clad in sombre black, although I noted that his attire was of the finest quality. His sole concession to decoration was an engraved signet ring worn on the fourth finger of his right hand. He bowed low.

  “It is an honour and a pleasure to welcome you once more, Signore Haccuud. His Excellency had heard that you were nearby at the Savignone estate, and hastened to renew his acquaintance with you. Perhaps you will take some refreshment?”

  He crooked a finger at a passing servant who bore a tray of silver cups which brimmed with red wine. We each took one and inclined our heads in thanks. I raised my cup.

  “Thank you for your greetings, Messer Certaldo. We drink to the health of His Excellency, to your good self, and to the contin
ued prosperity of the city of Genoa.”

  “That is most kind, and similarly I wish you good fortune,” he replied, and bowing, melted away into the throng.

  “Black crow!” muttered Giles, tossing down the contents of his cup and looking around for more. “These people make my blood run cold, with their black clothes and fawning manners. I wouldn’t trust him with a farthing of mine. Give me a plain spoken archer or man-at-arms, say I.”

  “So say we all, Giles, but these are the people we need to help us for the nonce. We must perforce play the game on the board of their choosing, and in their fashion. Now, come with me over to the corner there, and I promise you will see a rare sight.”

  We moved towards where I knew the Doge’s leopard was held and jostled with the crowd to see the beast. Giles gazed round-eyed at the sight of the huge spotted cat as it lay with one large paw placed to hold down a large piece of meat, at which it tore with bloodied ivory teeth.

  “God’s Blood, Sir John, I’d not like to meet that demon without my sword to hand. It would be fine to hunt it down with bow in hand and arrow on string, though.” He turned to me bright-eyed at the thought, and then touched my arm. “Here comes one who seeks you, I think.”

  I looked over to where he pointed, and saw the richly clad figure of Simone Boccanera walking towards me through the throng, which parted respectfully at his passage.

  “Yes, Giles, he does. It is the Doge, the most powerful man in Genoa, so mind your manners.”

  “Signore Giovanni! It is good to see you in our midst again, so soon after your last visit.” He extended his hand in welcome, and lowered his voice. “It is a sorrowful errand on which you come amongst us again, and we shall talk later upon the matter.” Raising his voice, he spoke again. “I see you have a different companion, am I to make his acquaintance?”

  Thus I presented Giles, who took the Doge’s hand and bowed low.

  “Master Ashurst is our Captain of Archers, Your Excellency. He has been comparing methods with Messer Andreas Varazzo, who leads your crossbowmen presently in our service.”