Time passed swiftly, and eventually the lady's maidservant laid to one side her embroidery and climbed to her feet, which was clearly a signal that it was time for me to leave. The lady stood, as did I, and for the first time our eyes held. I had, until this moment, been careful to avoid full eye contact with my hostess, but, as we looked at each other, I knew that the stirring in my heart had deepened and I was suddenly overcome with joy. She chose to prolong the gaze and then, with what I imagined to be reluctance, she finally lowered her eyes. The lady announced that she had greatly enjoyed our discourse and, with that said, she quickly retreated and disappeared from my view. I looked all about me and I wondered what I should do, for the elderly manservant had not yet appeared to escort me back to the gondola. However, I need not have panicked, for as soon as I resumed my seat the flustered manservant shuffled into view, seemingly embarrassed that he had mistimed his cue.
That night I lay in bed and cast my mind back to the wife and child that I had left behind in my native country. I did not think of myself as having spurned them, for they were in my heart and would evermore remain there. As was the custom with a warrior, there had been no formal marriage, it being understood that at any moment I might lose my life. (It was never understood that at any moment I might also lose my heart.) My son would forgive me, for in a few years he, too, would be a man and follow in his father's footsteps. But I feared that my wife would fail to understand my present predicament, and her judgement of my character would prove to be harsh. I sat upright in bed and listened to the quiet lapping of the water below. I wondered how often they thought of me. I wondered if, as they lay at night, the moon rising late through sirocco-driven veils of mist, the warm wind caressing their skin – I wondered if, in their minds, they still held a picture of me. And if they did indeed think of me, were their thoughts always hostile, or were there occasions when I entered their souls in a benign fashion? Did it ever occur to them that I might already have made the easy passage from this world to the next and been taken up by death? But perhaps I had no right to expect anything from them. Why should they trouble their minds with me?
In the morning I awoke to the familiar sound of chiming bells, which were soon rendered discordant by the sight of my attendant entering my room with a look of some distaste etched across his face. In his hand he held a small parcel, which he delivered to my bed with thinly disguised hostility. It had already occurred to me that I might have to replace this man, and his present performance served only to confirm my feelings. I saw no reason why I should continue to tolerate such petulant displays of bad manners from this gondolier's son. That he disliked me on account of my complexion and bearing, I had no doubt, but should this failed soldier wish to serve another, then I had resolved that I would not stand in his way. I watched as he drew back the curtains, after which he strolled from the room in an unhurried manner. Turning my attention to the parcel, I was surprised to note that there was a second communication which I soon discovered to be a letter bearing the seal of the doge. Putting the parcel to one side, I quickly opened the doge's letter and learnt that I was summoned to meet him that very morning, and that I should expect a gondola before the church bells struck nine. My heart quickened on receiving this news, for I presumed that this could mean only that war was drawing closer. I then turned my attention towards the contents of the parcel. It was, as I imagined, from the lady, but upon opening it I was astonished to discover a gold bracelet that was heavily wrought but delicate in design. A short note, signed in her own hand, thanked me for sharing with her my tales. I took the bracelet and fastened it about my wrist, deterrnining, even at that moment, that I should never again remove it.
I dressed with some haste and made my way to the Doge's Palace, taking little trouble to look about me and observe the world, as was my normal practice. Once there, it was clear that I was expected, for I was quickly delivered into an unfamiliar waiting chamber, whose walls were draped with hangings of the finest tapestry, and I was attended to in a manner which seemed to reflect my status as General of the Venetian army. The grandeur of the huge windows, and the wide stream of light that flooded the room, lent a powerfully sombre tone to the setting. The ornamentation must have cost many thousands of ducats, for at one end stood a fireplace of carved marble, lavishly decorated with figures and foliage, and above my head the ceiling was decorated with gold fixtures. Eventually I was ushered along a thickly carpeted corridor and into the presence of the doge, an elderly man, who, I soon remembered, appeared to be a trifle hard of hearing. He stood before a large rectangular mirror which boasted an elaborate bejewelled frame, and he seemed pleased to see me. I noticed that he was attended to by a half-dozen senior senators, including he who had recently occupied himself as my host for dinner. I quickly scrutinized my host's face for any sign of displeasure, but, being able to spy none, my body let out what I feared might have been an audible sigh of relief.
The proceedings of the meeting were simple. The Turks, so intelligence had informed the doge, having already reddened their scimitars with much Christian blood, were now planning to attack the Venetian island of Cyprus. My commission was to revisit an island with which I was already familiar, this time at the head of the Venetian army, and to subdue the infidel usurper who was forever laying claim to this perilously situated outpost of Christian civilization. I was to set sail before the end of the week, and, upon my departure, I would meet those good men who would follow me into battle. Until then, I was free to prepare myself in whatever manner was customary for men of my region. The doge and his senators enquired as to whether there was any issue I wished to raise. I declined, but not without some alarm, for I suddenly realized that my head was full of thoughts pertaining to the lady, and there were indeed questions I wished to ask, though none were related to matters of war. I looked somewhat useless for a moment, then regained my voice and assured these noblemen that I was happy that this time had finally arrived. Further, I assured them that I would not disappoint, and they seemed pleased with my confidence, for they looked upon me with respect as I bade them farewell.
The same gondolier was waiting for me when I stepped out from the palace and into the winter gloom. Clearly, the gondolier was under instruction to serve as my escort for the journey back to my lodgings, but, in the manner of these people, he said nothing and simply gestured with his head in the direction of his vessel. I bade him be patient a while as I wished to exercise my legs in the piazza at St Mark's and observe the winged creatures who sat in long rows, their necks drawn into their shoulders, their neck feathers bunched clumsily about their heads. The good news that I had been waiting for with great patience now appeared to be disconcerting, for it would inevitably mean a period of separation from the senator's daughter. And what of the lady herself? Would she think it forward of me to write and suggest another clandestine rendezvous? Or would it be more politic to allow her to initiate any further meetings? As these thoughts tumbled in my mind, bells of all personalities and temper began to chime, and the birds took to the air with a sudden rush of wings.
I sought out my gondolier and soon settled back in my seat, where I listened to the backwash of the canal beating against the hull, and the comforting drop of water as it fell from the oar. Some moments later, I was shaken from my reverie by a flare of light reflecting off a pile of fish that lay on the bottom of a moored boat. I glanced about me and realized that presently we would soon be upon the very house where the lady resided. Upon instinct I looked up to the direction of the balcony, then called to my gondolier and asked after him if he could sing. He looked at me, but said nothing. In fact, he seemed to increase his pace, but, just at the point when I was ready to remind him that I had made an enquiry of him, he began to steer his vessel towards the very house and to raise his voice in a pleasing tune. And then she appeared, dressed from head to toe in silk, the wind playing gently with her garments. I held up my hand in greeting, but partly in order that she might also see the gold bracelet which I proudly s
ported about my wrist. The gondolier continued to sing, and people passed by on either side of the canal, clearly fascinated by the scene being played out before them. I was, I admit, flattered by the attention of this lady, for it seemed to my mind peculiar that one such as I might win the affection of so beautiful a creature. And still my gondolier continued to sing, and I gazed up at her, then a flower was tossed down from the balcony. A single winter rose floated in the water. And then the lady disappeared from the balcony. At that moment, and at that moment precisely, as the circular ripples radiated out from the rose, I resolved to make the senator's daughter my bride, whatever the consequences.
I instructed my gondolier to steer towards the bank and moor his vessel by the steps to the lady's house. He looked at me as though I had taken leave of my senses, but he said nothing. As we set a course for the steps, I managed to pluck the rose from the water and I held it up to dry. It appeared that I was already expected, for the by now familiar manservant opened the weather-beaten door and, without saying a word, escorted me through the house and into the back garden, where I understood I was to remain and await the arrival of my mistress. However, before the elderly manservant had time to depart, the lady entered in company with her maidservant. She smiled, then sat before me in all her resplendent beauty, while she that watched over her retired a short distance. I, too, sat and we began to speak at the same time, but realized our error and laughed. And then I apologized for my uninvited intrusion, and explained that on seeing the vision of her on the balcony I could not help myself. She blushed somewhat, but I continued and said that perhaps she might speak with me a little, if it were convenient, for I felt a trifle guilty that, at our last meeting, I had dominated affairs. She seemed shocked and insisted that this was not the case, but then enquired as to whether there was any subject in particular about which I wished to converse. I thought for a moment, then asked her about sorcery and magic in Venice, for I had noticed that Venetians seemed to be devout Christians and free of such associations.
In the course of the next hour, the good lady corrected my mistaken assumption and related to me many instances of superstition, some of which I knew to be true of people in other lands. For instance, to a Venetian the number thirteen, the number of Judas, is always unlucky. Further, one must carefully avoid spilling salt, and if one turns money in one's pocket at the first quarter of the moon, then it will increase during that month. (Apparently, it is also understood that hair grows and falls with the waxing and waning of this same celestial object.) I learnt that, in Venice, certain days have significance, so that on New Year's Day, to meet a humpback is a sign of good fortune, but to meet a lame person is one of misfortune. Sadly, to meet a priest means that death will occur within the year. On the Epiphany, the Venetian beasts talk to each other, but on this day only. And the dew on St John's Eve is precious and must be treasured. I spent the greater part of the hour listening to this lady's wondrous voice before the manservant reappeared and whispered to the maid, whose eyes betrayed severe agitation. The lady stood, clearly fearing discovery, and suddenly our meeting was at an end. She quickly announced that, with regret, she would have to leave. With this said, she hurried from the garden, leaving the manservant to escort me from the house.
On reaching my own lodgings, I took a seat on my balcony where, for some hours, I silently contemplated the bold nature of my unannounced visit, and worried whether my presumption would now be rewarded by rejection. Then, before I realized what was happening, the short winter's day expired and it was dusk. Below me I could see a variety of evening boats gliding by. Each had its own lantern which gleamed and played upon the water, the swifter gondolas creating dazzling tracks of light in their wake as they made their way along this grandest of canals. As night fell, my solitude was interrupted by my attendant. He presented me with a newly delivered letter which, once he had retired, I quickly opened. Unfortunately, the writing was close and difficult to read, as clearly it had been written in great haste. Because I knew it to be from the lady who had captured my heart, I could not bring myself to ask my untrustworthy attendant to aid me in the deciphering of the characters. What remained of the evening passed somewhat painfully as I looked and looked again at the letter, but it defeated me comprehensively. I retired to bed in torment, thoroughly frustrated by my inability to interpret the lady's script.
I arose at dawn and dressed quickly, for during the night I had determined a method by which I might be able to gain some understanding of the letter that lay open beside my bed. I walked quickly through the winter fog towards the north of the city, pausing only to marvel at the fact that the greater part of the world appeared to be hidden behind an opaque shroud. I soon found myself outside the gates to the ghetto, and I noticed that the Christian guards were the same fellows that I had seen on my previous visit. They seemed surprised, but not unhappy, to see me again. I offered them some coins and was allowed to pass inside, whereupon I began to search for a man who might help me. Ghostly figures were already stirring in the streets, but they moved quickly, as though frightened of holding their shape. I had determined that a scholar of some description would be best equipped for the role that I envisaged. Therefore, having finally located their place of worship in a small and unusually well-kept square, I quickly entered. Once inside, I encountered a weather-beaten, warp-faced Jew toiling over a book in the semi-darkness. He was sitting in the room in which I imagined they celebrated their unchristian service. An elegant and richly decorated place, it was furnished with a gallery which boasted the most impressive carvings. I offered up the letter to the Jew and he immediately understood what I expected of him. While he scanned the letter, he gestured to me that I should sit. Then, having examined it, he looked up at me. He did not betray any emotion, but simply began to recite to me the contents of the letter. As he began, I almost asked him to stop in order that I might press upon him the knowledge that I could read, and inform him that it was only this dense and unclear script that had defeated me. But it was too late. Once he had begun, I was intoxicated. The lady stopped short of professing a love for me, but her desire to see me again, and as soon as possible, was clearly articulated.
The scholar handed back the unfolded letter. I paid him, adding some extra for the good news he conveyed, and our transaction was complete. It was then, after a moment's thought, that I asked if I might dictate to him a letter of reply set down in his finest hand, but he had already anticipated my request. The Jew looked at me with pen poised. I was simple and direct in my affections, but the boldness of the lady's letter encouraged me far beyond what I might otherwise have dared to reveal. My passion for her I laid out openly, holding back only when it seemed necessary to do so for the sake of the modesty of he who was writing. And then, my letter complete, I asked my Jew if he would be good enough to convey it to the lady in question, but again he seemed to have already understood. The good scholar refused to take extra money for this task, and I judged by the way he looked upon me that he felt a certain sympathy for my predicament. Indeed, as I left, I am sure that I noticed a smile play around his thin lips.
Early the following morning, my attendant entered my room and rescued me from an unsuccessful night, during which I had remained painfully alert. For twenty-four hours the lady had captured the centre of my mind, creating a tortuous inertia that had rendered me incapable of any practical action. I was in no doubt that she loved me, but I knew not how to marry my life of action to any other life. Indeed, I was already beginning to fear that, should I take a chance and pursue a marriage with this young lady, immediately upon doing so my reputation as a leader of the first rank would inevitably suffer. After all, since the age of seven I had known only the power that comes through confident usage of the arm in the heat of battle. Despite my royal blood, the remote language of love had remained alien to me, for I had always refused to coat my tongue with its false words. My attendant stood before me and he repeated himself with impatience, once more informing me that the lady was wait
ing outside. Only now did I understand why this infuriating man had decided to interrupt my afflicted thoughts. My letter would have reached her hands, and rather than dispatch her answer she must have decided to come herself and give to me the news that my heart wished to hear. I dressed quickly, looking many times upon myself in the mirror. I was no longer young enough to pretend that I was an appealing specimen of manhood, but I remained confident that I could hold my own with any in the ring of combat. The curly-blonde-headed darlings of Venice drew to themselves cunning glances from the fair ladies of the republic in quantities that I could only dream of achieving, but my complexion was a feature that was unlikely to aid me in my attempts to attract admiration. Once more, I looked upon myself in the mirror. It was true. The wooing of this lady did indeed threaten the very foundations upon which my life was constructed, but surely it was the coward's way to remain in secure military bachelorhood and learn nothing more of the world beyond my own life. I abandoned the mirror and made my way towards the door.
She stood with her back to me, but turned when she heard me approaching. My attendant glowered in my direction, then informed me that I was to present myself within the hour at the Doge's Palace. With this said, the sour man left our presence and I simply stared at the lady. The morning light stealthily picked the blush from her cheeks, showing off her youth to its best advantage. The lady informed me that early yesterday evening she had received my letter, but once she had studied its contents, she had found sleep difficult to achieve. She had sought an audience with me so that we might converse, but even as she completed her reasoning, she apologized for the inconvenience which she was sure this intrusion was causing me. For a moment I looked at her, transfixed by her beauty, then I broke the spell and stared down at the canal beneath us, where water lapped softly against wood and stone. And then the words appeared in my mouth and tumbled out awkwardly. Without planning, I asked her if she might consider becoming my bride. To my great surprise, the child fell immediately to her knees and clasped her hands together in front of her bowed head. It was then that she told me that her greatest wish was that I should become her lord and master, and protect and honour her for the remainder of her days. With this said, I reached down and encouraged her to look up. Then I fell to one knee and sealed our union with the tenderest of kisses. Was I truly the same man who had arrived lonely and unannounced? The same man who had sailed in a state of spellbound wonder right into the heart of this city-state? The same man who had entertained a willing but subtle Venetian whore at the suggestion of my first 'master', even though I derived little pleasure from my actions? The same man who had initially struggled with the language, and who had, at times, wondered if he would ever settle among these strange and forbidding people? And now to be married, and to the heart of the society. I wondered how such a change could be wrought in a man's life, and in so short a period.
The Nature of Blood Page 14