Wolf on a String by Benjamin Black

Author:Benjamin Black
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

II

JANUARY

1600

15

Surely there could be no better blazon to lift the heart on a clear, crisp winter morning than the brassy blare of a bugle. That day, in the first month of a new year and a new century, even Rudolf the Melancholy smiled to hear those raucous notes. He hurried to the nearest window, his pale feminine hands clasped at his breast in excited anticipation, and peered down into the broad courtyard below. A multitude of townsfolk were massed there, filling the entire square. Through it a squad of halberdiers were clearing the way for the royal bugler; following after him, four sturdy young men bore between them on their shoulders a wooden pole from which was suspended by thick leather bands a very large, flat packing case wrapped securely in canvas.

I was among the band of courtiers gathered under the magnificently vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall of the Royal Palace, and counted myself the equal of any there, even Felix Wenzel—even, for that matter, the all-powerful Chamberlain Lang. You shall judge of the great transformation that had come about in my fortunes when I describe the outfit in which I disported myself that day.

I wore a shirt of finest linen with a soft lace collar and matching lace ringlets at the wrists; a doublet of dark blue velvet boned to make a narrowing to the waist; wine-red trunk hose, paned, complete with a stiffened codpiece; silk nether stockings; and shoes of Spanish leather with silver buckles. I was, it pains me to confess, particularly vain of my hat, which was of soft velvet like the doublet, gathered into a high crown and decorated with a jeweled band and a jaunty white cockade at the left side. Over the weeks I had grown the beginnings of a pencil beard, which today was oiled and neatly pointed, and complemented by a fine stiff mustache; the beard and whiskers, to my pleased surprise, had come out a softly reddish hue. My hair was cut short and brushed well back—the Blue Elephant’s lice were the merest memory now—with a woven lovelock trailing gallantly over my right shoulder.

I wore a ruby ring, too, a gift from the Emperor himself. It was not so large or ostentatious as the one Chamberlain Lang liked to display, but to my eye it was more tasteful, by far.

So, as you see, I had undergone a marvelous transfiguration, overseen and financed by a great lady. I was, in short, quite the gentleman.

“Come,” His Majesty said, “come, let us go down.”

He scurried to the door, with the rest of us behind him in a rush.

In the courtyard the four young men had halted, looking very solemn and self-conscious. They had come on an immense journey, by foot, all the way over the Alps from Venice, bearing their precious cargo.

Rudolf thanked them, one by one, and presented to each of them a gold Joachimsthaler, specially minted for the occasion, while the crowd, held well back by the halberdiers, elbowed and jostled, craning for a rare view of the people’s reclusive sovereign.

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