Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  I threw myself from Boy’s saddle, and, followed by closely by Ludovico and at some little distance by Marco, I ran towards my Lady’s room. We were met at the door by Hal.

  “God be thanked, Sir John, and you, my Lord; your lady has at last opened her eyes and spoken to us,” he said, and stood aside for us to enter.

  We two pressed on into the chamber and placed ourselves one on each side of the bed. Proserpina lay propped against a heap of pillows. Her lovely eyes were bright, and filled with tears, of gladness I thought, and her colour was restored. She held out a hand to each of us. They were warm and alive, not icy cold as they had been.

  “I have woken from an awful dream,” she said. “One of darkness and strange imaginings, full of horror.” She shuddered at the recollection.

  Ludovico reached out and took her in his arms. “My dearest sister, I know not what to say, or how I can express my joy at seeing you returned to us. Now you must thank Giovanni here, for all his help in freeing you from that brigand Scacci.”

  Then at last I embraced my love, after what had seemed an eternity. I was unable to speak, being overcome with a mixture of love and relief at her recovery.

  “Oh, Gianni,” she said, “I thought never to see you again, nor go riding in the hills with you.”

  “My dear, dear love. I am able to say little now, but in time all shall be told, and until then know that you have my undying love.”

  At this she buried her face against me and wept such tears of joy that I thought they would never cease. We were lost in each other, and when we came to ourselves once more, we were alone. The sun had set, but our love for each other had been rekindled.

  *****

  The days then passed swiftly towards Proserpina’s full recovery, and on a bright day we rode out of the estate with a gaily dressed throng, towards Genoa and the great Cathedral of San Lorenzo. We were to be formally betrothed, and a Mass celebrated in thanks to God for my Lady’s deliverance. The two young Scaccis, Rafaello and Lorenzo, had been invited to be with us. We were as anxious as they that their family should be reinstated in society. Their help in freeing Proserpina from the Convent of the Holy Mother had been made known to all, for which they were very grateful.

  In the matter of the convent itself, Father Pietro had told the story of the whole affair to his Bishop, who had lost no time in sending envoys to investigate. It was to be many months before I heard of the matter again and was told that the convent had been closed, the sisters disposed of amongst more conventional houses of religion. To the Bishop’s annoyance, the Abbess had disappeared, never to be seen again. After being cleansed and deconsecrated the buildings of the convent were de-roofed and left to fall into ruin. Few travellers had ever passed that way, and that was a fit end to it.

  Chapter 11

  Confrontation

  After the Mass and our betrothal, the whole glittering company celebrated the occasion at dinner in the Great Hall at Savignone. Relations and friends of the di Lucanti family were gathered there, even the ancient uncles Domenico and Matteo, clad for once in clothes more befitting their position than the threadbare robes they habitually wore.

  I had fitted out with new clothes all the men who had remained with me. Alain Malwe was resplendent in the latest fashion from Genoa, whilst the men had new white tunics with the Cross of Saint George in red upon them, together with new quilted aketons, hose and leather shoes. I had also presented all eight with new daggers, or knives, and belts according to their fancy. Proserpina and Ludovico sat at the centre of the high table. I was placed to my Lady’s left, and on either side were various members of the di Lucanti family. Marco and Alain were immediately below on the side table to my left, whilst the men were lower down with Gaetano the Steward, and Giuliano the Count’s Secretary.

  We tasted course after course, each one seemingly more delicious and of more splendid appearance than the last. The good red wine of Liguria flowed as from a river, and there were many who over-indulged and were carried from the table before the evening was over. I had ordered my people to be on their guard, to drink but to remain sober.

  One other guest was there at the table that night, and at my request. Father Pietro sat with us. I had told Proserpina of the part which the good priest had played in her release, and she gave him her heartfelt thanks in no small measure.

  At that time we were not to know that the Abbess’s prophecy was to come to pass, all too soon. Within the two moons foretold by her, Father Pietro was dead—thrown from his horse, frightened by a cat which leapt from a tree on to its head, clawing and biting. On falling, Pietro struck his head upon a stone and died instantly. On the evening of the banquet however, he was his usual gravely kind, slightly humorous self.

  I was not to know of his death for some time, being away on campaign, but I was sorely saddened by the news.

  Into the midst of this joyous evening Fate sent the news I was expecting, dreading almost, for it was to tear me from my Lady’s side and place me once more in mortal danger. The door at the end of the hall was flung open and through it came the slight, black clad figure of Niccolo, dwarfed by Simon Bawdesley and Rob Allsebrook.

  The noise of voices and music died as the trio passed between the two tables. Niccolo was pale and would have stumbled but for the strong arms of his companions. They halted before the high table. Niccolo drew himself up, stepped forward a pace and bowed.

  “Signore Conte mio, Signore Giovanni, Madonna Proserpina, I bring word from the north.”

  I rose to my feet, and turned to Ludovico. “It would be better if we heard this in private, I think. Proserpina, you will forgive me, I hope, for a short while.”

  She bowed her head in assent, and I turned to leave. The Count followed, and we made our way to the private chamber where he conducted his business affairs. As I left the table I looked at Marco, caught his eye and nodded imperceptibly. He left his place and followed us.

  *****

  “Well, Niccolo, what do you have to tell us?” I asked when we all were seated.

  He drew a deep breath. “It is not good news, Signore. Messer Brise went with me to see Albrecht Sterz, as you instructed. I told him your intention. He did not take it well, and swore that you were bewitched away from your duty to the Company by the Lady Proserpina.”

  “What?” I cried, half rising from my chair. “Albrecht said that!”

  “Yes,” said Niccolo, unhappily. “But, Signore, he looked very ill, not himself. Messer Brise told me he had been drinking too much wine of late.”

  “I see. What else is there?” I asked.

  “Messer Sterz said that the Company had suffered several reverses. Attacks towards Milan had been thrown back by the soldiers of Count Landau. These failed attacks had involved your English as well the Almains.”

  “I shall have to return,” I told the others. Albrecht is clearly not himself. He has been ill since the plague struck us. He never really did recover. Anything else?”

  “Yes, Signore. Messer Brise told me that there is a rumour that Milan has approached von Felsingen, with offers of gold, to defect and join the forces of the Count Conrad Landau. Nothing has happened as yet, though.”

  “I cannot say I am surprised. You have done well, all of you. Go now and take your rest, but eat and drink first. Sit with Marco, Niccolo, and you, Simon and Rob, with Alain Malwe. I will see you again on the morrow.”

  After they had left for the Hall, I turned to Ludovico.

  “You heard? Now you know the difficulties before me. I have to leave, but I will speak to Proserpina myself, if you agree.”

  He laid a hand upon my arm. “I am concerned for you, my friend. Your troubles exceed mine own, indeed, compared with you I am carefree. If in any way I can help you, you have only to ask.”

  “Whilst I am away, look after Proserpina for me. I shall try to explain everything to her in the morning, but it will be difficult for her, I know.”

  *****

  “I knew you could not stay l
ong, Gianni,” said Proserpina, as we walked in the garden after breaking our fast. “When Niccolo and his escort came into the Hall at dinner last night, I knew that the news they brought would take you away from me. It has been so short a time. Are we fated not to be together?”

  “Mine is the life a of a soldier, my love,” I replied. “When matters arise that mean I must return to my duty, then I must go. Albrecht Sterz is ill, and there may have been desertions to Milan on the part of one of his marshals and some hundreds of his men. Also, I am told that the Company has been driven back several times. If this continues, more men will drift away, and that I cannot afford. I must return to rally them again and restore their spirits.”

  She took my hand and drew me into the shelter of an arbor. “Let us sit here a while, Gianni, where we cannot be seen. I feel that eyes watch us, even when we are alone.”

  So we sat together and I took her in my arms and kissed her, not once but many times, and we whispered those sweetnesses to each other which lovers will do. Then she wept, but after a while she looked up and smiled through her tears.

  “I weep because you are going away, and doubtless shall weep again when you return, as I know you will.”

  I laughed, and comforted her. “Yes, I shall return, and we shall be wed. My time is not yet come. We shall have many years together, and one day perhaps we will go to England together.”

  As I spoke my heart lurched as the prophecy of the black priestess at the convent came back to me. I held Proserpina closer, and swore to myself that she must never know the Abbess’s dread words.

  “We must go, my love,” I said. “It is time to begin the preparations for my departure. Come!”

  We returned to the house hand in hand, and were met at the door by Taddea. “Signore Giovanni! There you are—and you, Proserpina, where have you been? I apologise, Signore; this naughty child has been leading you astray, and your men seek you. Messer Marco wishes to see you, and Messer Peasegood has medicine for you, child. There, I am now quite out of breath, and must sit.” So saying, the old nurse dropped onto a nearby stone seat and closed her eyes.

  “There now, Taddea dear, you have worn yourself out for nothing.” Proserpina laughed and seated herself by the small black-clad figure, putting her arms about her fondly. “I will look after you now, and Gianni may go to find Marco.”

  I left them there, and went to the men’s quarters.

  “Good morning, Sir John,” Alain Malwe greeted me. “What are the orders for today? Marco has been seeking you, and is in the stables with La Fiamma.”

  “We shall leave here today, Alain,” I told him. “There are urgent matters to attend at Romagnano. Gather the others, and tell them to pack their equipment. They need not arm themselves fully; there should be no need for that today at least. Mail and helmets only, I think, and bows. I’ll find Marco myself.”

  My squire was indeed in the stall with his mare, La Fiamma, brushing her coat until it shone darkly red. She was a fine mare, and willing, having little fear in a fight. I had thought to breed from her and Boy, but no opportunity had yet arisen. A horse from their union would be a fine beast to train for war.

  “Good morning, Sir John.” Marco appeared agitated. “I have looked for you without any success. Have you slept well?”

  “Well enough, boy. I was but walking in the garden with my Lady, whom I must leave yet again. Now, I have given Alain orders to make ready for departure, so we must prepare ourselves too. Tell Huw to pack, will you? Half armour today will do. We should not have trouble on the way, yet. We will leave at midday.”

  “What shall I say to Niccolo?” he asked. “He fears he will be left behind.”

  “I will see him myself. He will be disappointed, but he shall stay here for the time being. I need his eyes and ears in Genoa.”

  *****

  As I expected, Niccolo was full of protests. “But Signore, have I not served you well? Have I done aught to offend you in any way?”

  I took him aside, placing an arm about his shoulders. “No, you have not offended me at all,” I said. “I place a high value on your efforts on my behalf, but I need you to stay here to keep an eye on matters in Genoa. I have had introductions prepared for you, to certain merchants here who will give you news for me from England, as well as from other parts of Italy. Any information you hear which you think will be useful to me, remember it well.”

  “What if there is something which you ought to be told quickly or urgently?” he asked.

  “Then you must ask Messer Guiliano to write it down in a letter, and Ludovico will find a fast rider to bring it north.”

  “But when shall I see you, Signore? You may be away for a long time. Shall I seek you out?”

  “I shall return here before too long, as I am to marry the Lady Proserpina, as you know. Matters in the north are coming to a head and a conclusion will soon be reached, one way or another, between the White Company and Milan. Remember, you are well connected here, and will be rendering me great service. I do not forget those who help me.”

  “Very well, Signore. I accept your service, and I will do all I can to assist you.” He spoke bravely, but I knew he was sad at heart at being left behind.

  *****

  At last all was ready for our departure. Proserpina and I had said our farewells in private, and I had spoken to Ludovico on certain matters, such as the need to encourage Niccolo.

  “I will watch over his progress, Giovanni, and guide him where I can. He is devoted to you, but he is young. I realise, if he does not, why he is not going with you. Now, farewell. God go with you"

  Proserpina put up her face for a final kiss and whispered, “I love you, Gianni. Come back to me safe and sound. See, I weep as I said, but I am happy. May God keep you safe.”

  I swung up into Boy’s saddle and caught up the reins. Taking off my velvet cap I waved to the small crowd of onlookers.

  “Farewell! God save you all!” and to my escort, “To the north with all speed.”

  We rode out of the gates, on to the white, dusty road to Romagnano, and away.

  *****

  “So,” said Albrecht, “You have finally tired of your leman, and have returned to your duty. It is not before time. Your men have grown idle, and do not obey my instructions.” He sat hunched in his fine carved oaken chair, wrapped in a cloak over his other clothes. He was thin and drawn, with unkempt hair and untrimmed beard. His usually bright eyes were dull and red-rimmed. When he reached out for his wine cup his hand shook. I recognised the illness as described by Niccolo. It was a malady born of too much wine, taken to drown his loneliness, I thought.

  I was angered, but contained my annoyance with my old comrade, shaking my head sadly. “Albrecht, Albrecht, old friend, you are not yourself, so I will forgive you your harsh words. The effects of the plague are still with you, and are not made better by the wine, or we would be at sword strokes by now. The Lady Proserpina is a worthy and beautiful young noblewoman, who loves me, and I her. She will become my wife.”

  “So you say, John, but first there are other matters to consider.”

  “Such as Werner?” I asked. “How could you let that happen, Albrecht? We knew he could not be trusted. I told you, after Lanzo, what that false knave Harzmann had done. Did that mean nothing to you? Is this rumour of desertion I hear true?”

  “I don’t know. He and Conrad are away, supposedly on patrol duty. Of course I took notice of what you said, but so many things have happened since: the plague, with the loss of hundreds of men, and mine own illness.” He sounded tired and defeated, a shrunken shadow of his former bounding and immaculate self. “You were not here. There was no one else I could trust.”

  “Hannes was here. John Brise was here. Why didn’t you take them into your confidence?” I pressed on relentlessly. “Why? Why not?”

  He raised his hand to stop me. “I need your help now,” he said. “Blaming me will not help us. We must think what to do to gain the upper hand.”

  “
Very well. Then we must attack again, and win. If Milan thinks we are defeated, we must prove them wrong. Where can we hurt Landau most, in his own purse?”

  Albrecht poured more wine from his silver jug, seeming not to have heard what I had said. He gazed at his cup fixedly. “I drink too much, Jack,” he said at last. “Perhaps now you are returned I need no drink to drown my sorrows.” Nevertheless he lifted the cup and drank deeply.

  “Where can we hurt Landau most?” I repeated. He made no answer. I lost patience. It was like speaking to a child. “For God’s sake, Albrecht! Leave the goddamned wine alone!”

  I reached out and knocked the cup from his hand. It spun across the table spilling its rich red contents around as it careered away to fall off the edge and roll to rest upon the floor.

  “You should not have done that, John,” he slurred. His eyes blazed briefly, and he scrabbled for the hilt of his sword which lay along the table before him. I reached out and slid the weapon away from his grasp.

  He lunged forward after it, and collapsed helpless over the table.

  “Wolf! Wolf!” I called to his page, who ran in straightway.

  “What is it, Herr Johann?” he looked at the still figure of Albrecht. “What ails my master?”

  “Drunk, Wolf. Too much wine taken,” I said.

  “I will get him to his bed, but I must have help.” He turned to leave.

  “No, I will help you. No one else should see him like this. Come.”

  Together we lifted Albrecht and half carried, half dragged, him to his private quarters, and so on to his bed.

  “Leave him there, Wolf, and fetch Meister von Auerbach to me here. I wish to speak to him. Say nothing about Herr Sterz to anyone else.”

  The boy slipped away, and I returned to the table where Albrecht’s sword still lay. I straightened it to lie neatly along the board. I also picked up the cup and replaced it in front of Albrecht’s chair.