Hawkwood's Sword
Page 34
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The evening meal on the night we arrived was a quiet affair. Proserpina and her girl cousins did not appear, nor did her two aunts. Thus we were left to ourselves, and enjoyed a merry carouse with a good dinner—and, for some, an excess of wine. As on a previous occasion, the ancient uncles left the table early and retired for the night to their books and to sleep. As for myself, I tried to keep a sober head, but retired late, leaving a still merry company at the table.
On the morrow there were many late risers, myself amongst them, and so we broke our fast in ones and twos, some early, some late, according to how the wine of the previous evening had taken us. By midday though, we men were all arrayed in our finest attire, and in deference to the occasion went unarmed save for solitary daggers, without which I think most of us would have felt almost completely naked. With an eye to safety, however, I had arranged that the men who had accompanied me would form a discreet guard around the estate house and gardens.
Towards noon we all converged on the Great Hall, which had overnight been transformed, decked out with heraldic flags, banners and pennants, together with flowers and flowering plants from the gardens. Tables were bright with white napery, cups and plate of gleaming silver gilt, and more decorations of flowers and fruits, cunningly arranged. Large silver gilt flagons of wine were arranged on side tables. There would clearly be no shortage of wine to wash down the rich repast which awaited us.
One end of the hall had been left clear, and there stood Father Pietro, clad for once not in his dull brown habit with the belt of rope and with coarse sandals upon his feet, but garbed in rich vestments of gold, green and white. I went forward and stood before him. Behind me stood John, sweating and uncomfortable in his unaccustomed finery, and Andrew—much younger, and well used to fashionable attire. Giles completed my trio of supporters, handsomely dressed in red and white.
Proserpina approached from my right, followed by a group of young female cousins and friends, all most sumptuously attired in a rainbow of colours. She wore a dress of simple white, but adorned with a myriad of precious crystal gems. Her honey-dark hair was braided and coiled into a heaped confection into which had been worked more precious gems and pearls. She came and stood beside me, and I took her hand. Behind her stood Ludovico.
According to custom, I turned and faced her and asked: “Proserpina, do you consent to be my wife? Declare it now before this concourse of witnesses.”
She answered boldly, as I knew she would: “Yes, I do so consent to be your wife, and will remain faithful unto death.”
We both then faced Father Pietro, who, after a short prayer for our future happiness and well being, bestowed upon our union the blessing of God and Holy Church.
The thing was done: we were man and wife, Proserpina and I, and I then led her and the whole company to the tables for the wedding banquet.
What shall I say of that afternoon and evening? Course after course of rich food followed one upon each other, accompanied by a veritable river of wine. Between courses, musicians played and minstrels sang for our entertainment. There were tumblers and jesters, acrobats and performing animals. As hour followed hour, the whole blended into a tapestry of pleasure which no artist-weaver could capture.
At long last Proserpina was able to retire to her chamber—our chamber to be—accompanied by a bevy of her young maiden friends and cousins. When these latter returned to the hall, I made my excuses, wished those about me good night, and went to my own quarters. There I stripped off my wedding finery, and donned a long robe of rich red and white brocade which Huw had laid out for me. I went over to the window and overlooked the garden. It was the same moonlit scene which I had looked upon on my first visit to Savignone, the previous year. A full moon bathed the garden with its brightness and turned everything—house, statues, plants and all—to silver. The black sky was cloudless.
Thoughts of Orlando Scacci came unsought into my mind, and I shivered despite the thick brocade about my nakedness, to think of how I had so nearly lost my love.
Turning away from the window, I went to the door. I opened it and walked out into the passage, and made my way to the bridal chamber. I entered and, closing the door, placed my back against it and slid the bolt into its place.
Proserpina was standing by the window, as I had done, gazing into the garden. She was bathed in moonlight, and as she turned towards me she allowed her silken robe to slide back from her shoulders, revealing her naked beauty. Between her perfect breasts nestled a single pear-shaped diamond on its golden chain. She came open-armed towards me. I enfolded her in my own embrace, and felt her warm softness against my body.
“My silver goddess,” I whispered, before kissing her. “I love thee so much.”
“And I love thee, my brave Gianni,” was her tremulous reply.
I lifted her then and carried her to the bed.
Later, much later, after a tempestuous lovemaking, we slept, still entwined in the lovers’ embrace.
FINIS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Frank Payton was born in Nottinghamshire and educated at Queen Elizabeth’s Grammar School, Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. After leaving school he entered the Army on a Short Service regular engagement with the Intelligence Corps; he served in Germany and Cyprus.
On leaving the Army he joined the British Coal Corporation, in the Finance Department, moving eventually into the field of Industrial Relations, which would now be termed Human Resources, eventually achieving senior management status.
He took early retirement from British Coal, and opened what eventually became a very successful book-selling business in Mansfield, dealing with antiquarian and newly published books. He retired to Lincolnshire in 2001, where he began to write.
His abiding interest and passion over many years has been history, and over the years has covered a diversity of periods and countries. He became in turn the founding Secretary of the Nottinghamshire Family History Society, and later the Society’s President.
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