Mistress of mistresses (52 page)

Lessingham
upon
that night's morrow took his way westwards with his army slowly towards
Mornagay, sending word before so that all the bruit should run in all Rerek,
and so through Meszria to Zayana, of this back-winter, and of need come upon
all that stood now in civil strife to lay that by, and think on an enemy
indeed. He had it now fully from Amaury: how Derxis, by the employment of
spies, by traitors whom he had greased well in their hands, or by some other
advisoes, had obtained entry for himself and some few of his men into Rialmar;
where, with the chancing together of several matters which fell out well to his
hand and he used them better, he had contrived his purpose so close as procure
the murder, at one chop, of Bodenay and a dozen more. Which done, the Queen's
power, made headless, might no longer but sever and dissolve, leaving this
Derxis to be his own carver: a beast un-merciless.

Lessingham,
now for two days, scarce took bite nor sup. Whether he slept none knew: only
that not an hour in the night but somewhere was he to be seen about the camp,
armed and in his riding-coat. Save to give orders, not a word had he for any
man, neither durst any speak with him. It was, through these days, as if there
rode there a man abiding indeed in his bodiness, but lapped in lead: in all
else deceased, but his great heart carried him. And now began to be heard in a
susurration about men's ears, the thing that in all those months past in
Rialmar had not been spoke nor imagined except by Derxis, with so wise a
discretion had Lessingham and the Queen refrained themselves: but now it was
said, What grief was this that should so benumb a man, for but loss
of
 
his Queen? and it was answered, Past question,
she loved him paramour and no other. Which coming to Amaury's ears, he was
highly displeased: said to him that let fall the word, 'I should slit thy
tongue for chattering so wide,' and by all discreet means wrought to scotch
this prittle-prattle. But the rumour, once sown, ran like quitch-grass in a garden,
much underground; and yet to no bad effect, knitting their hearts the closer
in his service as to a man not great only, but great and unhappy. For of such
kind were most that followed Lessingham, that their loves grew up as the watercresses,
slowly, but with a deep root: not so ready to praise the sun at his uprising
as worship him at his downgate.

The
third afternoon they came to Mornagay. Lessingham would not lie here, but
press on by Killary and so by the Tivots and Scorradale Heath to be in
Bardar-dale before nightfall. Amaury rode with him, and, after the carriage
beasts were well through the ford, they two drew ahead. On the great open
mile-wide ridge of the heath Lessingham reined in Maddalena and, turning in the
saddle, looked back northwards. The sun was set in a clear sky: the heath was
become a darkness made up of all shades of blackish greens: the sky a pal-lour
of all greys akin to blue: tarns and standing waters gleamed lighter than the
sky itself, as if lit from under.

From
the east, little white wisps of mist came like feelers drifting from right to
left over the dark heathland.

Lessingham
spoke: "You were with me that night thirteen months ago, in Mornagay.'

'Yes’

'Never
name it again. Never name to me again aught that came of it' ‘No, my lord.'

'What
think you, Amaury? is it true that all things have their life, their limits,
their diseases, and their death?'

'All
things?'

'Yes,
all.'

‘Not
all, my lord.'

'What
then? what hath not?'

'You
have bid me never name it'

'I
say, all things, Amaury. Dispute it not, else God knows I might murder you. I
am in these days become a wild beast, first made fierce with tying, and then
let loose. And not I alone: so is all become.'

*I
hope, not murder me, that loved you 'bove the world.'

'Yes,
you and all. Then gallop apace to my ruin.' 'O, this is madness.'

*No,'
said Lessingham, and his voice was like the muttering of distant thunder: 'it
is like the Twilight of the Gods: the baying of the hell-dog before Gnipa's
cave: the crowing of the cocks in the three worlds: will you call that
nightingales?—

Yes,
Amaury: "The fast must be loos'd, and the Wolf run free."'

Amaury
sat silent, his jaw set. Those feelers had by now drawn a coverlet of mist over
all the heath, hiding the ground. On the hummock where Lessingham and Amaury
waited, their horses' feet were in the mist but their own heads in clear air,
and the stars clear and bright above them.

Lessingham
laughed. 'Say over to me again, those words he used. For God knows I have
dreamed and waked and dreamed till
I
know
not well which is dream and which true.'

'I
dare not say it.'

'Say
it,' said Lessingham terribly.

Amaury
obeyed: 'He said, "If not to be my Queen, then you shall at least be no
longer the strumpet of a soldier of fortune." '

A
full minute Lessingham neither spoke nor moved. His face, seen sideways, proud
and unreadable against the May night, showed like stone or iron. There came the
ring of bridles up from the Scorradale side, of the vanward nearing the brow.
Lessingham shook rein, turned and rode away down before them into Bardardale.
Amaury, following beside Maddalena's off hind quarter, heard him say in his
teeth, ‘I have shut my mind against these things.' Then suddenly drawing rein
and staring into Amaury's eyes through the darkness: 'Remember that,' he said.
'But remember, too, not winged horses shall prevail him to outskip my vengeance.
And so, Amaury, to work.'

There
went messengers now, while Lessingham and the Admiral lay in Bardardale,
betwixt them and the Chancellor before Laimak. By this, in a few days it was
brought to a meeting betwixt them, and a charter of peace sealed with
Lessingham upon provisoes and a truce to endure until the fourteenth day of
June, and in the mean season counsel to be had for that matter with the Duke,
late come up to Argyanna after sojourning at home awhile in Zayana. Upon the
tenth of June came these lords, Lessingham, Beroald, and Jeronimy, with Amaury,
to Argyanna. Here with the Duke was Count Zapheles, and the Lords Melates and
Barrian and a dozen besides, men of mark. Medor, wielding by procuration the
ducal power, abode yet in Zayana.

Lessingham
was greatly feasted and nobly received, nor, when they fell to their business,
seeking of agreement, were they slow to find sured ground: at first, common
cause against Derxis, to destroy him and revenge his abomination in Rialmar:
secondly, King Mezentius's lawful issue being by two murders in this short
while miserably dead, there remained no colourable pretender to the throne but
the Duke, whose claim thus stood wa-terfast. But when it was to speak of the
Lord Horius Parry, and upon what terms the Duke and his would take him into
their peace again, straight they lost (as for agreeing) more in a minute than
they got in a day: Lessingham of the one side, all they of the other against
him. The Duke required surrender without all conditions: 'Which, come what
will, he cannot choose but be forced unto, in a month or less. By God, I discommend
your wit, my Lord Lessingham, if you think I know not a fox by his bush now, or
think, now I hold him earthed in Laimak, I'll let this one wend free at your
asking, to play me such another touch as last winter he did.'

'He
will never surrender without conditions,' said Lessingham. 'Why should he?
Would you or I?'

'Well,'
said the Duke, 'no more blind reckonings. This is the one sure card: soon as
ever I have him, to cut off his head.'

Lessingham
answered, 'We be all agreed that it is time we began to destroy our enemies,
and first let us begin at Derxis that hath done villanies not to be spoken and
threateneth our mere being. For this, we must give over even rightful quarrels
amongst ourselves, else can we never achieve it. And the Vicar is a great
captain not easily to be spared in the manage of so great a war as this.
Besides, our folk of Rerek are stubborn and hard and can not easily digest the
government of a stranger.'

'They
have by many a hundred rebelled against
him
now,' said Barganax.

'That,'
replied Lessingham, 'was when I was not by.' 'They will obey you sooner than
him. Let him go.'

Lessingham
stroked his beard. 'No. If your grace take that way, I sit out.'

Two
days they argued it. The second, the Chancellor took Lessingham apart: said,
'My Lord Lessingham, you have gotten the right ear of his grace; butin this
you will not move him. This ill weed of yours, maugre your warming and
watering, hath now been parched up. Only bethink you: upon what consideration,
but of this man alone, should the Duke have seized power in Rerek and, by
implication, in Fingiswold? 'Gainst his sister he'd ne'er a stood usurper, but
'gainst this man only that under her name cloaked his large ambitions. Your
lordship hath heard how myself did in aid of that enterprise allege a law
which barreth women from kingdom to the end the realm fall not into the hands
of a strange prince or nation. 'Tis of questionable authority: I lent it mine,
not for any quarrel with the Queen's highness (on whom be peace), but because
I would not trust this man. You and he sort very ill together. If conscience
will not suffer you to oppose his interest, then get you gone for a season:
leave him to us. We shall speedily deal with him.'

'The
things,' replied Lessingham, 'which be main counts against his highness my
cousin were done when I was beyond the Wold upon the Queen's business. For all
that was then misdone I have, upon his behalf, offered atonement.'

‘I
see your lordship will not hear reason,' said Beroald. 'Well, you are like to
pay dear upon your bond.'

'That
the Gods must rule,' answered he. 'But remember, I am upon safe conduct here
in Argyanna, and with right upon safe conduct to return to that army I have
afoot, and with that, be it little in numbers, I have ere this done somewhat.
And remember the lord Admiral is upon parole to go back with me if this peace
be not concluded. And if his grace will have no peace (and a hard peace for
the other is this I offer you, and good for his grace), but will, as is now
said, slay the Vicar, then I will promise you this: it shall be so
countervenged that it shall be spoken of a hundred years hereafter.'

Beroald
said, 'We will not talk on thunder.'

'Lessingham,'
said the Duke, coming upon them in this: 'the man is not by a noble heart such
as yours in any way to be avouched or defended. Must our friendship fly in
pieces for sake of such a villain?'

'If
our friendship, my lord Duke, (which the Gods forfend) must fly in pieces, 'tis
because, to end his he-roical great defence that hath so long time held you off
and your armies, you will in cold blood use this same cruelty I have so oft
checked in himself, of the beheading-block. But if my friendship be aught, then
prove it: for I have told your grace I will, so you give him but to me, be
answerable upon my honour and upon my life that he shall all repay and no more
disease you.'

'But
to what wild purpose—?' Barganax paused silent for a minute, looking in
Lessingham's eyes. There sat in them a bantering mocking look that he knew, but
as belonging to other eyes: not to these speckled grey eyes of Lessingham, but
to green eyes, beaconing as from every unrest and from every incertitude and
peril, which things, taking on those eyes' allurance, burned high and desirable
beyond all lusts and fires.

'Each
to his taste,' Lessingham said. ‘I have given you reasons enough in policy. And
if you will have more, say he is a dangerous horse: say I taste a pleasure in
such riding.'

'Say
you will break your neck, my Lord Lessingham,' said the Chancellor.

But
Barganax and Lessingham, like as formerly at the council-board in Ilkis, now
faced one another as if, for all their company about them, they stood alone,
and a third presiding: a third, perceived but by them alone; and scarcely,
indeed, to be named a third, as being present strangely to the Duke in the
person of Lessingham, and to Lessingham in the Duke.

Two
days later, a little before noon, Lessingham rode into Laimak. It was a day of
close, hazy weather, boiling up for thunder-storms. The Chancellor's armies
still held siege before the castle, for the allies had no mind that the Vicar
should use this truce for getting in of provision, then defy them anew and so
drag on. Lessingham and his they let through with no delays, for he bare
letters of credence under seal of Zayana. All the valley for a mile about the
castle was wasted with fire and eaten up. The Vicar greeted Lessingham as a man
might greet a son long given up for lost. He carried him -to his closet in the
keep, and hither was dinner brought them, poor campaigning fare indeed: bacon
pies, black rye bread, cheese, and smoked fish, with a runlet of muscadine to
wash it down and a little joy the heart withal.