Marjorie Bowen by Marjorie Bowen

Author:Marjorie Bowen
Format: epub

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Chapter 18. — Giacomo Carrara's Reward

The dawn was breaking, the sky streaked and barred with cold grey light, and along the winding road to Milan rode the Visconti and Carrara, the army before them.

It had been accomplished, without demur, openly and completely; behind them they left the Veronese and Mantuan troops, over whom Giacomo had no command—and Count Conrad, laughing in his folly.

Quite near to them lay Milan—and Visconti rode in silence, wondering what had befallen in the city; wondering, and fearing Valentine had revealed too much of his own spirit; he was afraid of her.

Along the distant horizon the grey walls of the city began to be visible across the flat plain, and Visconti's eyes lit at sight of his city, and he turned to Carrara impulsively.

'Give me a sword, Carrara,' he said. ''Tis not fitting I should enter Milan weaponless.'

'The Milanese will so rejoice to see you, my lord,' returned Padua, 'they will never notice—'

'That I come as a prisoner?' flashed Visconti, but the next moment he laughed and urged on his horse. 'But what care I how, so long as I do re-enter Milan? Now, with you as my ally, Carrara, I can crush della Scala without France or the Empire; and together, as ye say, we will rule Lombardy.

Carrara rode abreast of him, glancing at him keenly.

'Even now he will try to outwit me,' he thought, and resolved he would not be outdone in cunning for the lack of care.

'How came it you were captured?' he added, 'and in this guise?'

'The chances of war,' laughed Visconti. 'Foolishly I went myself to defend the gates, and pursued della Scala's men too far.'

But this candour did not deceive Carrara. 'Foolish indeed he smiled. 'Your hurry excelled your prudence, lord.' And he wondered what was the truth.

'You have cause to thank heaven no one knew you,' he continued.

'They were German boors,' answered Visconti, 'Count Conrad's men, and there was nothing to tell my degree. Yet, had they looked a little closer, they might have found one thing that would have told them I was different from what I seemed—these.'

And he drew out of his doublet the turquoise gloves.

Even in that cold, faint light they showed brilliant and beautiful, and Carrara gazed at them in wonder.

'As I was summoned,' continued Visconti, dreamily, 'I was looking at them. Are they not beautiful, Carrara? Two years they took to make, and cost more than I care to tell. Each turquoise is flawless, and set by Antonio Fressi himself.'

'And is this a gift for someone?' asked Carrara, and he looked keenly into Visconti's face.

'It was one of my bridal gifts to the Duke of Orleans. I must honour him, Carrara, although I love him not,' said Visconti simply. 'But now I will offer it to one to whom I owe my life. Take the gloves, a gift from me, Giacomo.' And he turned in the saddle and held them with a winning smile to Carrara, who, mistrustful, looked at him doubtingly and keenly.

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