CHAPTER II. THE LIVERIES OF SANTAFIOR
Such preparations as I had to make were soon complete.
Although it was agreed that I was to travel in the motley, yet, in mylately-born shame of that apparel, I decided that I would conceal it asbest might be, revealing it only should the need arise. Moreover, itwas incumbent that I should afford myself more protection against theinclement January night than that of my foliated cape, my crested capand silken hose. So, a black cloak, heavy and ample, a broad-brimmedhat, and a pair of riding boots of untanned leather were my furtherequipment. In the lining of one of those boots I concealed the LordCesare's package; his money--some twenty ducats--I carried in a beltabout my waist, and his ring I set boldly on my finger.
Few moments did it need me to make ready, yet fewer, it seems, wouldthe Borgia impatience have had me employ; for scarce was I booted whensomeone knocked at my door. I opened, and there entered a very mountainof a man, whose corselet flashed back the yellow light of my tapers, asmight have done a mirror, and whose harsh voice barked out to ask if Iwas ready.
I had had some former acquaintance with this fellow, having first methim during the previous year, on the occasion of the Court of Pesaro'ssojourn at Rome. His name was Ramiro del' Orca, and throughout the Papalarmy it stood synonymous for masterfulness and grim brutality. He was,as I have said, an enormous man, of prodigious bodily strength, heavy,yet of good proportions. Of his face one gathered the impression of ablazing furnace. His cheeks and nose were of a vivid red, and still morefiery was the hair, now hidden 'neath his morion, and the beard thattapered to a dagger's point. His very eyes kept tune with the redharmony of his ferocious countenance, for the whites were ever bloodshotas a drunkard's--which, with no want of truth, men said he was.
"Come," grunted that fiery, self-sufficient vassal, "be stirring, sirFool. I have orders to see you to the gates. There is a horse readysaddled for you. It is the Lord Cardinal's parting gift. Resolve me now,which will be the greater ass--the one that rides, or the one that isridden?"
"O monstrous riddle!" I exclaimed, as I took up my cloak and hat. "Whoam I that I should solve it?"
"It baffles you, sir Fool?" quoth he.
"In very truth it does." I ruefully wagged my head so that my bells setup a jangle. "For the rider is a man and the ridden a horse. But," Ipursued, in that back-biting strain, which is the very essence of thejester's wit, "were you to make a trio of us, including Messer Ramirodel' Orca, Captain in the army of his Holiness, no doubt would thenafflict me. I should never hesitate which of the three to pronounce theass."
"What shall that mean?" he asked, with darkening brows.
"That its meaning proves obscure to you confirms the verdict Iwas hinting at," I taunted him. "For asses are notoriously of dullperceptions." Then stepping forward briskly: "Come, sir," I sharplyurged him, "whilst we engage upon this pretty play of wit, hisExcellency's business waits, which is an ill thing. Where is this horseyou spoke of?"
He showed me his strong, white teeth in a very evil smile.
"Were it not for that same business--" he began.
"You would do fine things, I am assured," I interrupted him.
"Would I not?" he snarled. "By the Host! I should be wringing your pertneck, or laying bare your bones with a thong of bullock-hide, you illconditioned Fool!"
I looked at him with pleasant, smiling eyes.
"You confirm the opinion that is popularly held of you," said I.
"What may that be?" quoth he, his eyes very evil. "In Rome, I'm told,they call you hangman."
He growled in his throat like an angered cur, and his hands were jerkedto the level of his breast, the fingers bending talon-wise.
"Body of God!" he muttered fiercely, "I'll teach one fool, at least--"
"Let us cease these pleasantries, I entreat you," I laughed. "Saintsdefend me! If your mood incline to raillery you'll find your match insome lad of the stables. As for me, I have not the time, had I the will,to engage you further. Let me remind you that I would be gone."
The reminder was well-timed. He bethought him of the journey I must go,on which he was charged to see me safely started.
"Come on, then," he growled, in a white heat of passion that was onlycurbed by the consideration of that slender, pale young cardinal, hismaster.
Still, some of his rage he vented in roughly taking me by the collarof my doublet, and dragging the almost headlong from the room, and soa-down a flight of steps out into the courtyard. Meet treatment for aFool--a treatment to which time might have inured me; for had I notfor three years already been exposed to rough usage of this kind at thehands of every man above the rank of groom? And had I once rebelled inact as I did in soul, and used the strength wherewith God endowed meto punish my ill-users, a whip would have reminded me into what sorryslavery had I sold myself when I put on the motley.
It had been snowing for the past hour, and the ground was white in thecourtyard when we descended.
At our appearance there was a movement of serving-men and a fall ofhoofs, muffled by the snow. Some held torches that cast a ruddy glareupon the all-encompassing whiteness, and a groom was leading forward thehorse that was destined to bear me. I donned my broad-brimmed hat, andwrapped my cloak about me. Some murmurs of farewell caught my ears,from those minions with whom I had herded during my three days at theVatican. Then Messer del' Orca thrust me forward.
"Mount, Fool, and be off," he rasped.
I mounted, and turned to him. He was a surly dog; if ever surly dogwore human shape, and the shape was the only human thing about CaptainRamiro.
"Brother, farewell," I simpered.
"No brother of yours, Fool," snarled he.
"True--my cousin only. The fool of art is no brother to the fool ofnature."
"A whip!" he roared to his grooms. "Fetch me a whip."
I left him calling for it, as I urged my nag across the snow andover the narrow drawbridge. Beyond, I stayed a moment to look over myshoulder. They stood gazing after me, a group of some half-dozen men,looking black against the whiteness of the ground. Behind them rose thebrown walls of the rocca illumined by the flare of torches, from whichthe smell of rosin reached my nostrils as I paused. I waved my hat tothem in token of farewell, and digging my spurless heels into the flanksof my horse, I ambled down through the biting wind and drifting snow,into the town.
The streets were deserted and dark, save for the ray that here fell froma window, and there stole through the chink of a door to glow upon thesnow in earnest of the snug warmth within. Silence reigned, broken onlyby the moan of the wind under the eaves, for although it was no morethan approaching the second hour of night, yet who but the wight whomnecessity compelled would be abroad in such weather?
All night I rode despite that weather's foulness--a foulness that mighthave given pause to one whose haste to bear a letter was less attuned tohis own supreme desires.
Betimes next morning I paused at a small locanda on the road toMagliano, and there I broke my fast and took some rest. My horse hadsuffered by the journey more than had I, and I would have taken a freshone at Magliano, but there was none to be had--so they told me--thisside of Narni, wherefore I was forced to set out once more upon thatpoor jaded beast that had carried me all night.
It was high noon when I came, at last, to Narni, the last league of thejourney accomplished at a walk, for my nag could go no faster. Here Ipaused to dine, but here, again, they told me that no horses might behad. And so, leading by the bridle the animal I dared no longer ride,lest I should kill it outright, I entered the territory of Urbino onfoot, and trudged wearily amain through the snow that was some inchesdeep by now. In this miserable fashion I covered the seven leagues, orso, to Spoleto, where I arrived exhausted as night was falling.
There, at the Osteria del Sole, I supped and lay. I found a company ofgentlemen in the common-room, who upon espying my motley--when I hadthrown off my sodden cloak and hat--pressed me, willy-nilly, intoamusing them. And so I spent the night at m
y Fool's trade, giving themdrolleries from the works of Boccacci and Sacchetti--the horn-books ofall jesters.
I obtained a fresh horse next morning, and I set out betimes, intendingto travel with a better speed. The snow was thick and soft at first, butas I approached the hills it grew more crisp. Overhead the sky was ofan unbroken blue, and for all that the air was sharp there was warmthin the sunshine. All day I rode hard, and never rested until towardsnightfall I found myself on the spurs of the Apennines in theneighborhood of Gualdo, the better half of my journey well-accomplished.The weather had changed again at sunset. It was snowing anew, and thenorth wind was howling like a choir of the damned.
Before me gleamed the lights of a little wayside tavern, and since itmight suit me better to lie there than to journey on to Gualdo, Idrew rein before that humble door, and got down from my wearied horse.Despite the early hour the door was already barred, for the bedding oftravellers formed no part of the traffic of so lowly a house as thisnameless, wayside wine-shop. Theirs was a trade that ended with thedaylight. Nevertheless I was assured they could be made to find me a ragof straw to lie on, and so I knocked boldly with my whip.
The taverner who opened for me, and stood a moment surveying me by thelight of the torch he held aloft, was a slim, mild-mannered man, notover-clean. Behind him surged the figure of his wife; just such a womanas you might look to find the mate of such a man: broad and tall offrame and most scurvily cross-grained of face. It may well be that hadhe bidden me welcome, she had driven me back into the night; but sincehe made some demur when I asked for lodging, and protested that in hishouse was but accommodation too rude to offer my magnificence, the womanthrust him aside, and loudly bade me enter.
I obeyed her readily, hat on head and cloak about me, lest my interestsshould suffer were my trade disclosed. I bade the man see to my horse,and then escorted by the woman, I made my way to the single roomabove, which, in obedience to my demand, she made haste to set at myconvenience.
It was an evil-smelling, squalid hole; a bed of wattles in a corner, andin the centre a greasy table with a three-legged stool and a crazy chairbeside it. The floor was black with age and filth, and broken everywhereby rat-holes. She set her noisome, smoking oil lamp on the table, andwith some apology for the rudeness of the chamber she asked in tonesalmost defiant if my excellency would be content.
"Perforce," said I ungraciously, perceiving surliness to be the key tothe respect of such a creature; "a king might thank Heaven for a kennelon such a night as this."
She bent her back in a clumsy bow, and with a growing humility wonderedhad I supped. I had not, but sooner would I have starved than havebeen poisoned by such foulnesses as they might have set before me. So Ianswered her that all I needed was a cup of wine.
When she had brought me that, and, at last, I was alone, I closed thedoor. It had no lock, nor any sort of fastening, so I set the threelegged stool against it that it might give me warning of intrusion. NextI threw off my cloak and hat and boots, and all dressed as I was I flungmyself upon my miserable couch. But jaded though I might be, it wasnot yet my intent to sleep. Now that the half of my journey wasaccomplished, I found myself beset by doubts which had not beforeassailed me, touching the manner in which this mission of mine was to beaccomplished. It would prove no easy thing for me to penetrate unnoticedinto the town of Pesaro, much less into the Sforza Court, where forthree years I had pursued my Fool's trade. There was scarce a man,a woman or a child in the entire domains of Giovanni Sforza to whomBoccadoro, the Fool, was not known; and many a villano, who had nevernoticed the features of the Lord of Pesaro, could have told you thevery colour of his jester's eyes; which, after all, is no strange thing,for--sad reflection!--in a world in which Wisdom may be overlooked,Folly goes never disregarded.
The garments I wore might be well enough to journey in; but if I wouldgain the presence of Lucrezia Borgia I must see that I arrived inothers. And then my thoughts wandered into speculation. What mightbe this momentous letter that I carried? What was this secret traffic'twixt Cesare Borgia and his sister? Since Cesare had said that itmeant the ruin of Giovanni Sforza--a ruin so utter, so complete andhumiliating that it must provoke the scornful mirth of all Italy--theknowledge of it must soon be mine. Meanwhile I was an agent of thatruin. Dear God! how that reflection warmed me! What joy I took inthe thought that, though he knew it not, nor could come to know it,I Lazzaro Biancomonte, whom he had abused and whose spirit he hadbroken--was become a tool to expedite the work of abasement anddestruction that was ripening for him. And realizing all this, thatletter I vowed to Heaven I would carry, suffering no obstacle to dauntme, suffering nothing to turn me from my path.
And then another voice seemed to arise within me, to cry outimpatiently: "Yes, yes; but how?"
I rose, and approaching the table, I took up the jug of wine and pouredmyself a draught. I drank it off, and cast the dregs at an inquisitiverat that had thrust its head above the boards. Then I quenched thelight, and flung myself once more upon my bed, in the hope that darknesswould prove a stimulant to thought and bring me to the solution I wasseeking. It brought me sleep instead. Unconsciously I sank to it, myriddle all unsolved.
I did not wake until the pale sun of that January morning was drawingthe pattern of my lattice on the ceiling. The stormy night had beensucceeded by a calm and sunlit day. And by its light the place wore amore loathsome look than it had done last night, so that at the verysight of it I leapt from my couch and grew eager to be gone. I seta ducat on the table, and going to the door I called my hostess. Thestairs creaked presently 'neath her portentous weight, and, pantingslightly, she stood before me.
At sight of me, for I was without my cloak, and my motley was revealedin the cold, morning light, she cried out in amazement first, and thenin rage--deeming me one of those parasites who tramp the world in thegarb of folly, seeking here a dinner, there a bed, in exchange for somescurvy tumbling or some witless jests.
"Ossa di Cristo!" was her cry. "Have I housed a Fool?"
"If I am the first you have housed, your tumbling ruin of a tavern hasbeen a singularly choice resort. Woman--"
"Would you 'woman' me?" she stormed.
"Why, no," said I politely. "I was at fault. I'll keep the title foryour husband--God help him!"
She smiled grimly.
"And are these," she asked, with a ferocious sarcasm, "the jests withwhich you pay the score?"
"Jests?" quoth I. "Score? Pish! More eyes, less tongue would more befita hostess who has never housed a fool." And with a splendid gesture Ipointed to the ducat gleaming on the table. At sight of the gold hereyes grew big with greed.
"My master--" she began, and coming forward took the piece in her hand,to assure herself that she was not the dupe of magic. "A fool withgold!" she marvelled.
"Is a shame to his calling," I acknowledged. Then--"Get me a needle anda length of thread," said I. She scuttled off to do my bidding, likenothing so much as one of the rats that tenanted her unclean sty. Shewas back in a moment, all servility, and wondering whether there was arent about me she might make bold to stitch. What a key to courtesy isgold, my masters! I drove her out, and eager to conciliate me, she wentat once.
With my own hands I effected in my doublet the slight repair of which itstood in need. Then I donned my hat, and, cloak on shoulder, made my waybelow, calling for my horse as I descended.
I scorned the wine they proffered me ere I departed. That last night'sdraught had quenched my thirst for ever of such grape-juice as it wastheirs to tender. I urged the taverner to hasten with my horse, andstood waiting in the squalid common-room, my mind divided 'twixtimpatience to resume the road to Pesaro and fresh speculations upon themeans I was to adopt to enter it and yet save my neck--for this was nowbecome an obsessing problem.
As I stood waiting, there broke upon my ears the sound of an approachingcavalcade: the noise of voices and the soft fall of hoofs upon the thicksnow carpet. The company halted at the door, and a loud, gruff voice wasraised to cry:<
br />
"Locandiere! Afoot, sluggard!"
I stepped to the door, with very natural curiosity, a company of fourmounted men escorting a mule-litter, the curtains of which were drawn sothat nothing might be seen of him or her that rode within. Grooms werethose four, as all the world might see at the first glance, and thelivery they wore was that of the noble House of Santafior--the holywhite flower of the quince being embroidered on the breast of theirgabardines.
They bore upon them such signs of hard and hasty travelling that it wassoon guessed they had spent the night in the saddle. Their horses werein a foam of sweat; and the men themselves were splashed with mud fromfoot to cap.
Even as I was going forward to regard them the taverner appeared,leading my horse by the bridle. Now at an inn the traveller that arrivesis ever of more importance than he that departs. At sight of thosehorsemen, the taverner forgot my impatience, for he paused to bow inwelcome to the one that seemed the leader.
"Most Magnificent," said he to that liveried hind, "command me."
"We need a guide," the fellow answered with an ill grace.
"A guide, Illustrious?" quoth the host. "A guide?"
"I said a guide, fool," answered him the groom. "Heard you never of suchanimals? We need a man who knows the hills, to lead us by the shortestroad to Cagli."
The taverner shook his grey head stupidly. He bowed again until Ifancied I could hear the creak of his old joints.
"Here be no guides, Magnificent," he deplored. "Perhaps at Gualdo--"
"Animal," was the retort--for true courtesy commend me to alacquey!--"it is not our wish to pursue the road as far as Gualdo, elsehad we not stopped at this kennel of yours."
I scarce know what it can have been that moved me to act as I thendid, for, in the truth, the manner of that rascal of a groom was littleprepossessing, and his master, I doubted, could be little better that heleft the fellow to hector it thus over that wretched tavern oaf. But Istepped forward.
"Did you say that you were journeying to Cagli?" questioned I.
He eyed me sourly, suspicion writ athwart his round, ill-favoured face,But my motley was hidden from his sight. My cloak, my hat and bootsallowed naught of my true condition to appear, and might as well havecovered a lordling as a jester. Yet his inveterate surliness the rascalcould not wholly conquer.
"What may be the purpose of your question?" he growled.
"To serve your master, whoever he may be," I answered him serenely,"although it is a service I do not press upon him. I, too, am journeyingto Cagli, and like yourselves, I am in haste and go the shorter wayacross the hills, with which I am well acquainted. If it so please youto follow me your need of a guide may thus be satisfied."
It was the tone to take if I would be respected. Had I proposed that weshould journey in company I should not have earned me the half of thedeference which was accorded to my haughtily granted leave that theymight follow me if they so chose.
With marked submission did he give me thanks in his master's name.
I mounted and set out, and at my heels came now the litter and itsescort. Thus did we quit the plain and breast the slopes, where the snowgrew deeper and firmer underfoot as we advanced. And as I went, stillplaguing my mind to devise a means by which I might penetrate to theCourt of Pesaro, little did I dream that the matter was being solved forme--the solution having begun with my offer to guide that company acrossthe hills.