Love-at-arms being a narrative excerpted from the chronicles of Urbino, during the dominion of the high and mighty Messer Guidobaldo da Montefeltro
“They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna
Valentina, and that you find consolation--as I think his Highness of
Urbino has himself suggested--in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece.”
Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to
accept the terms.
“What else is there for you?” Montefeltro ended pregnantly.
“And this other niece of yours----?” quoth Gian Maria lamely.
“I have already passed my word,” answered Guidobaldo.
“And Monna Valentina?” the other almost whined.
“May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them.
Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your
interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my
lord. Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay.”
“But what is your defeat to mine?” cried Gian Maria, who saw through
Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as
Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that
threatened.
“It is at least as absolute,” returned Guidobaldo, with a shrug. And in
this vein the Duke of Urbino continued for some moments, till, in the
end, Gian Maria found himself not only deserted by his ally, but having
this ally now combating on his cousin's side and pressing him to accept
his cousin's terms, distasteful though they were. Thus urged, Gian Maria
lamely acknowledged his defeat and his willingness to pay the forfeit.
With that he asked how soon he might be permitted to leave the castle.
“Why, at once, now that I have your word,” answered Francesco readily,
whereat treachery gleamed from Gian Maria's eye, to be swiftly quenched
by Francesco's next words. “But lest your men and mine should come to
trouble with one another, you will order yours to come forth without
arms or armour, and you will depose your own. His Highness Guidobaldo is
the only man in whose favour I can make an exception to this condition.
Let it be broken, and I promise you that you will very bitterly regret
it. At sight of the first armed man issuing from those gates, I'll give
the word to fire on you, and your own guns shall work your destruction.”
Thus was the second siege of Roccaleone ended almost as soon as it was
begun, and thus did Gian Maria capitulate to the conqueror. The Duke of
Babbiano and his men marched out sheepishly and silently, and took their
way to Babbiano, no word--not even so much as a glance--passing between
Gian Maria and the lady who had been the cause of his discomfiture, and
who blithely looked on at his departure.
Guidobaldo and his few attendants lingered after his late ally had gone.
Then he bade Francesco lead him to his niece, in which Francesco readily
obeyed him.
The Duke embraced her coldly--still that he embraced her at all after
what was passed augured well.
“You will come with me to Urbino, Lord Count?” he said suddenly to
Francesco. “It were best to celebrate the nuptials there. Everything is
in readiness--for all had been prepared for Gian Maria.”
A great joy came into Valentina's eyes; her cheeks flushed and her
glance fell; but Francesco scanned the Duke's face with the keen eye of
one who is incredulous of so much good fortune.
“Your Highness means me well?” he made bold to ask. Guidobaldo
stiffened, and a frown broke the serenity of his lofty brow.
“You have my princely word,” he answered solemnly, at which, with bended
knee, Francesco stooped to kiss his ducal hand.
And so they departed on the horses that they kept as the spoils of war.
They made a goodly show, Guidobaldo riding at their head, with Francesco
and Valentina, whilst the rear was brought up by Peppe and Fra Domenico,
who, touched by this epidemic of goodwill, were at last fraternising
with each other.
And as they rode it chanced that presently Guidobaldo fell behind,
so that for a moment Francesco and Valentina found themselves alone a
little ahead of the others. She turned to him, a shyness in her brown
eyes, a tremble at the corners of her red lips:
“You have not yet said that you forgive me, Francesco,” she complained,
in a timerous whisper. “Were it not seemly that you did since we are to
be wed so soon?”