The Royal Pawn of Venice Part 40

She flung the words at him in triumphant tones, while he, in n.o.ble pity, stood speechless--having seen her face when she thought he had not seen; and she stood thus--radiant--defiant--until there was no longer an echo of footsteps back through the long vaulted corridor of the castle. Then the mocking smile died on her lips and eyes and she threw herself on her couch in a bitter paroxysm of pa.s.sion.

"One may dare all, for a man of stone," she cried, "and yet not win! And I would have made him great--_great_ beyond his dreams! O fool!--FOOL!"

x.x.xV

With the removal of the Court to Nikosia days of peace and sunshine had at last dawned for the distracted island kingdom--whether compa.s.sed by the wisdom of the astute and vigilant counsellors who sat close under the ear of the youthful Queen--by the superior force of the Venetian galleys, or by the winning charm of the Queen herself. The echoes of conspiracy had been stilled and the cities of Cyprus were taking new pride in their commerce, while they were growing richer in measures of philanthropy and education and that blossoming of arts and culture which only may adorn a court at leisure from petty wars and intrigues.

Early in these days of quiet Caterina had turned once more to her cousin the Bernardini, bidding him ask some favor at her hand--"For verily I owe thee more than I may repay."

"There could be never a debt between us, my cousin," he answered smiling: then with the ceremonious bow of a courtier, he added, with a singular mixture of gravity and playfulness: "I would remind your Majesty of a function of this Court which it hath never pleased my fair cousin to exercise. There is one among the maids of honor--most rare and n.o.ble--bounden by special vows of fealty, as a _Dama di Maridaggio_, to marry at the command of her Sovereign."

He stood before her quite unabashed and smiling, while she scanned him in surprise.

"Margherita de Iblin?" she questioned, half unbelieving.

"Margherita!" he answered, radiantly; "there is no other."

"And how--if when I name the other two which custom doth demand for this ceremonial, she shall find a knight more to her liking?" Caterina asked teasingly.

"Name one; and name him thrice," he answered boldly.

"Little I dreamed thee, Aluisi, so poor a knight that thou shouldst lack the courage to plead thine own cause," she exclaimed in amus.e.m.e.nt. "And of what avail a gift that is not free?"

He joined frankly in her laugh.

"Nay," he said; "the case is quite otherwise. For she will not say me nay, fair Cousin, because--in sooth some day she shall tell me why; and I count myself too leal a knight to tell it--if I knew--before she shall bid me speak. For the cause hath been pleaded and _not_ rejected; and the gift hath been given, but _not_ confessed; which, were it not thus, I should seek no aid--having no mind to steal, were it even the heart of a maid. But now it is rather wit than 'courage' that I lack, to outwit my lady--may those forgive me who hold her favor!"

"I will right heartily forgive thee, so but thou win it," Caterina a.s.sured him. "Yet if she hath not said thee nay--what lackest thou of favor?"

He was suddenly grave. "She will not say me '_yea_,'" he answered her, "lest the speaking of the word which she foldeth close in her heart until she giveth her rare self leave to utter it, should make her somewhat less to her Sovereign Lady--who, she hath most solemnly a.s.sured me--hath need of us both--and _thus_--with no bond between her two loyal servitors but their loyalty to their Queen."

"Shall mine be less because of their happiness?" Caterina questioned indignantly. "Nay, but much less--_much_ less, without it!--Where is the Dama Margherita?"

"Nay, fair Cousin," he protested, "let discretion rule the command, I beseech you. For she herself is more proud than any Queen and of a temper to which surrender cometh not easily; and the wooing hath been long. Yet the truth of her deep eyes betrayeth her,--and so I trust my happiness in your gracious hands."

But Caterina would not rest until she had found the occasion for speech: and so soon as she chanced to be alone with Dama Margherita, she announced, without preamble, that she would presently command a right royal festival to please the n.o.bles but lately come to court, with jousts of song and floral games, "and I myself will give the prize, and thou--Cara Margherita, being my faithful _Dama di Maridaggio_, shall be the Queen thereof."

But the Margherita drew herself haughtily away from the Queen's outstretched hand.

"I do not understand," she said, in a tone that was half resentful. "I am ever at your Majesty's command for loyalty and service: but this custom displeaseth me--I pray your Majesty, let it be dismissed."

"Nay, Margherita, it is my right;" the Queen persisted. "I would have thee choose one of three n.o.ble knights whom I will present to thee."

"Three!" she echoed with a sensation of relief: then, after all, her secret had not been guessed: it was truly some freak of the Queen's, and she turned more willingly to listen.

"The first is of rare n.o.bility, whom I fain would honor in bestowing upon him the hand of one so dear--because he hath spent himself for me, and hath held his life little when it might serve me."

Margherita half opened her lips to speak, then closed them resolutely and held silence--a faint flush growing in her cheek.

"The next is one of a most ancient house, of vast estates, it hath been told me, which he himself nameth not, save for some generous use when there is need: of whom all men speak well, because of a certain strength he hath; but women rarely, for the scorn he showeth for heartless trifling. If he should love a woman, she need not fear to trust him."

"And if he loveth not though he were a prince among men," Margherita answered with an effort at playful speech, "it were folly to trust his vows."

"Truly it were folly," the Queen replied, growing suddenly pensive, "and it were not easy to know wisdom from folly in such a matter, perchance.

Let us speak no more of it--though I had a third to bring before thee."

"Then," said Margherita with unexpected docility, "an' it please your Majesty I will listen."

"Thou art so gracious that I scarce do know thee!" the Queen retorted playfully, "thou who art wont to hold me with a wholesome fear! But for the third--now I bethink me--it were scarce worth the telling, since it was but a word that he left with me--no more--that I would that thou hadst seen him utter it, a simple vow--yet I know that none shall move him from it! Listen, Margherita: '_For me there is none other._'"

"Said he no more, when he asked so much?" Dama Margherita questioned with a desperate attempt to defer the moment of yielding.

Caterina turned and looked at her seriously.

"If he hath not the gift, already," she said, "it is much to ask. Yet, if he holdeth it, by no constraint--but _because it is for him alone and may not be withheld_--however one may struggle,--need one ask further a.s.surance of happiness? Choose thou from these, my Margherita. They are good knights."

"All three--or one?" Margherita asked, with deepening color and shining eyes that were her confession and surrender. "These three are one--my Lady giveth me no choice."

"How one?" the Queen answered promptly, willing to grant her a little more time, for she saw that it was not easy for this proud maid to yield. "For one is lofty and masterful, and of a great prowess--so that men fear him. And one is knightly and worshipful, with a trick of speech when it pleaseth him, so that a woman might love him if he plead with her for favor. And one--nay, of him we will speak no more. For he hath a will that may not be denied when he hath said, '_For me_ there is none other.'"

"My beloved Lady doth trifle with me," Margherita exclaimed in confusion. "She will not lay this command upon me!"

"My Margherita--most solemnly I bid thee choose that which shall bring thee happiness. For thy lover hath confessed himself to me."

"Is it happiness to love,--or is it pain?" the girl questioned very low.

"If sometimes it may be pain," the young Queen answered, a shadow crossing her brow; "yet even then, methinks, one would not have missed it--so only one hath held one's own heart true: for it discovereth depths and heights one might not know without it, and bringeth dreams that make one's soul the fairer. But for thee, _cara_ Margherita--it shall be all happiness--for thy knight is true and n.o.ble like thyself; and my heart is glad that I may give thee to him."

"Since I have not chosen him--and there are three!" Margherita interposed faintly--"but if it is of your Majesty's command----?"

"Tell me but this one thing--dost love him, Margherita?"

"If there must be confession, should not the high-priest of this sacrament be first to hear it?" the proud maid whispered, as she knelt and kissed her Lady's hand with a sudden grace: but the Queen knew that she might neither tease nor trifle more.

"My Margherita," she said, folding her closely; "I could dream no sweeter dream than to know my two very dearest ones worthy of each other and happy together."

So it was not long before the Court of Nikosia was gladdened with a festival of old-time splendor, lasting for many days--with tournaments of knights and jousts of song, and recitals of quaint Cyprian legends and cla.s.sic story, and all that their most punctilious custom might decree for a n.o.ble's marriage feast in the days of the _cinque cento_.

But as time slipped by in apparent tranquillity and growing prosperity, with constant evidences of judicious thought bestowed by the Queen upon the well-being of her subjects--with the coming and going of artists and men of letters to her court, and the resuming of all those ancient Cyprian customs that might minister to the content of the n.o.bles--whom it was ever most needful to satisfy with a sufficient show of gaiety--there had nevertheless been an imperceptibly increasing tightening of the threads of government which stretched far across the waters to Venice's own blue Adriatic, into the very Council-Chambers of the Palazzo San Marco.

Even the moneys of Cyprus were flowing somewhat overfreely into the coffers of the Venetian Provveditori who kept vigilant watch over the island kingdom--which was, in truth, no longer anything but a Venetian province, except in name. Yet Caterina, while she chafed at many hampering restrictions which she was powerless to overcome, loved her people and her work with the strength of desperation, and struggled bravely on.