Under the Witches' Moon: A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome
Her beauty was regal indeed, as she stood there brooding, her bare arms
dropping by her side. But for the expression of the eyes, in which
a turmoil of passion seemed to seethe, the wonderful face in repose
would have seemed that of an angel rather than a woman meditating the
destruction of another.
After a time Persephoné returned. By her side walked Hellayne.
Her beauty seemed even enhanced by the expression of suffering revealed
in the depths of her blue eyes. She wore a dark robe, almost severe in
its straight lines. The loose sleeves revealed her white arms. Her hair
was tied in a Grecian knot.
At a sign from Theodora Persephoné left the room.
For a moment the two women faced each other in silence, fixing each
other with their gaze, each trying to read the thoughts of the other.
It was Hellayne who spoke.
"The Lady Theodora has desired my presence."
"It was my anxiety for your welfare, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied,
inviting her to a seat, while she seated herself opposite her visitor.
"After the trying experiences of yesterday I do not wonder at the
shadows that creep under your eyes. They but prove that my anxiety was
well founded. May I ask if you rested well?"
"I owe you thanks, Lady Theodora, for your timely aid," Hellayne
replied in cold, passionless accents. "They tell me I was in dire
straits, though I cannot conceive who should care to abduct one who
would so little repay the effort."
"Enough to infatuate him, whoever he was, with a beauty as rare as it
is wonderful," Theodora replied, forced to an expression of her own
admiration at the sight of the exquisite face, the white throat, the
wonderful arms and hands of her rival. "I but did what any woman would
do for another whose life she saw imperilled. Your wonderful youth
and strength will soon restore you to your former self. Deign then to
accept the hospitality of this abode until such a time."
There was a pause during which each seemed to search the soul of the
other.
It was Hellayne who spoke.
"I thank you, Lady Theodora. Nevertheless I intend to depart at the
earliest. I can picture to myself the anxiety of the Blessed Sisters of
Santa Maria in Trastevere at my mysterious disappearance."
"You intend taking holy orders?"
Theodora's question was pregnant with a strange wonder.
A negative gesture came in response.
"The convent proved a haven of refuge to me when I was sorely tried."
"Yet--you cannot return there," Theodora interposed. "You would not
be safe. Know you from whose minions my Africans rescued you on yester
eve?"
Hellayne's wide eyes were silent questioners.
"Then listen well and ponder. You were in the power of the Lord Basil.
And that which he desires he usually obtains."
Hellayne covered her face with her hands.
"The Lord Basil!"
"You know him, Lady Hellayne?"
"Slightly. He was wont to call upon the man I once called my husband."
"The man you deserted for another."
Hellayne's eyes glittered like steel.
"That is a matter which concerns only myself, Lady Theodora," she said
coldly. "You saved my honor--perchance my life. For this I thank you. I
shall depart at once."
She walked to the door, opened it and recoiled.
Before it stood two Africans with gleaming scimitars.
White to the lips, Hellayne closed the door and faced Theodora.
"Lady Theodora--why are these there?"
Theodora's smouldering gaze met the fire in the other woman's eyes.
"Those who come to the bowers of Theodora, remain," she said slowly.
"Am I to understand that you will detain me by force within these walls
of infamy?"
"Your language is a trifle harsh, fairest Lady Hellayne," Theodora
replied mockingly. "Your over-wrought nerves must bear the burden of
the blame. Yet, whatever it may please you to call the place where
Theodora dwells, always remember, I am Theodora. You have heard of me
before."
"Yes--I have heard of you before!"
The calm and cutting contempt which lingered in these words stung
Theodora like a whip-lash.
"You know then, Lady Hellayne, it is your will against mine! We have
met before!"
"You mean to detain me here, against my will?"
"Whether I detain you or no--shall depend upon yourself. We are two
women--young,--beautiful--passionate--determined to win that which we
deem our happiness. I will be plain with you. All the reverses and
heartaches of months and days are wiped out in this glorious moment
when I hold you here in my power. For once my guardian angel, if I can
still boast of one, has been kind to me. He has delivered you into my
hands--and I shall bend or break you!"
Hellayne listened to this outburst of passion with outward calm, though
her heart beat so wildly that she thought the other woman must hear it
through the deadly silence which prevailed for a space.
"You will bend or break me, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne replied with a
pathetic shrug. "There is nothing that you could do that would even
leave a memory. I have suffered that in life which makes you to me but
the nightmare of an evil dream."
"We shall see, Lady Hellayne," Theodora replied, her passion kindling
at the other woman's calm.
"What then is the ransom you desire, Lady Theodora?" Hellayne continued
sardonically. "A woman of your kind desires but one thing--and gold I
do not possess--"
Theodora's eyes scanned Hellayne's pale face.
"Lady Hellayne," she said slowly, "of all the things in heaven or on
earth there is but one I desire: Tristan,--the man you love--the man
who loves you with a passion so idolatrous that, did I possess but the
one thousandth atom of what he gives to your ice cold heart, I should
deem myself blessed above all women on earth. Give him to me--renounce
him--and you are free to go wherever your fancy may lead you."
Hellayne regarded the speaker as if she thought she had gone mad.
"Give him to you?" she said, hardly above a whisper, but her tone stung
Theodora to the quick.
"To me!" she said. "Look at me! Am I not beautiful? Am I not created
to make man happy? What woman may match herself with me? Even your
pale beauty, Lady Hellayne, is but as a disembodied wraith as compared
to mine. To me! To me! You are young, Lady Hellayne. What can the
sacrifice matter to you? To you it can mean little. There are other
men with whom you may be happy. For me it spells salvation--or eternal
doom! For I love him, I love him with my whole heart and soul, love
him as never I loved the thing called man before! He has shown to me
one glimpse of heaven, and now I mean to have him, to atone for a
past that was my evil inheritance, to taste life ere I too descend
to those shadowy regions whence there is no return. Lady Hellayne,"
she continued, hardly noting the expression of horror and loathing
that had crept into Hellayne's countenance. "You have heard of
me--you know who I am--and what! Those who went before me were the
same, generations, perchance. It rankles in our blood. But there is
salvation--even for such as myself. To few it comes, but I have seen
the star. It is the love of a man, pure and true. Where such a one
is found, even the darkness of the grave is dispelled. I have lived
and loved, Lady Hellayne! I have been loved as few women have. I have
hurled myself into this mad whirlpool to forget--but forget I could
not. Man, the beast, is ever ready to drag the woman who cries for life
and its true meaning back into the mire. He alone of all has spurned
me--he alone has resisted the deadly lure of my charms. Never have I
spoken to woman before as I am speaking to you, Lady Hellayne. Hear my
prayer!--Renounce him!"
Hellayne stared mute at the speaker, as if her tongue refused her
utterance. Was she going mad? Theodora, the courtesan queen of
Rome, trying to obtain salvation by taking from her her lover? She
could almost have found it in her heart to laugh aloud. A death-bed
repentance that made the devils laugh! In her virginal purity Hellayne
could not fathom what was going on in the soul of a woman who had
suddenly awakened to the terror of her life and was snatching at the
last straw to save herself from drowning in the cesspool of vice.
Theodora, with her woman's intuition, saw what was going on in the
other woman's soul. She noted the slow transformation from amazement to
horror, and from horror to defiance. She saw Hellayne slowly raising
herself to her full height, and approaching her, who had risen, until
her breath fanned her cheek.
"Give him to you, Lady Theodora? Surely you must be mad to even dream
of so monstrous a thing."
She was very white, and her hands were clenched as if she forcibly
restrained herself from flying at her opponent's throat.
Theodora's self-restraint was slowly waning. She knew she had pleaded
in vain. She knew Hellayne did not understand, or, if she understood,
did not believe.
She spoke calmly, yet there was something in her voice that warned
Hellayne of the impending storm.
"Listen, Lady Hellayne," she said. "You are alone in Rome! At the mercy
of any one who desires you! Your lover is accused of the most heinous
crime. He has taken the consecrated wafer from the chapel in the
Lateran and, who knows, from how many other churches in Rome."
Hellayne's eyes sank into those of the other woman.
"No one knows better than yourself, Lady Theodora, how utterly false
and infamous this accusation is. Tristan is a devout son of the Church.
His whole life bears testimony thereof."
"If the Consistory pronounce him guilty, who will believe him
innocent?" came the mocking reply.
"His God--his conscience--and I," Hellayne replied quietly.
"Will that save his life--which is forfeit?" Theodora interposed.
"Where is he? Oh, where is he?"
For a moment Hellayne gave way to her emotions.
"He lies in the vaults of Castel San Angelo," Theodora replied,
"awaiting his doom."
"Oh, God! Oh, God!" Hellayne moaned, covering her face with her hands
and sobbing convulsively.
"His rescue--though difficult of achievement--lies with you," Theodora
said, veiling her inmost feelings. She was staking all on the last
throw.
"With me?" Hellayne turned to her piteously.
"I will tell you," Theodora interposed, placing her white hands on
Hellayne's shoulders. "The Consistory has spoken--" she lied--"and no
power on earth can save your lover from his doom save--myself!"
"How may that be?"
"I know the ways of the Emperor's Tomb. Its denizens obey me! If you
love him as I do you will bring the sacrifice and save his life."
"Oh, save him if you can, Lady Theodora," Hellayne prayed, her hands
closing round Theodora's wrists. "Save him--save him."
"I shall, if you will do this thing, I ask," Theodora replied, sinking
her dark orbs into the blue depths of Hellayne's.
"What am I to do?"
"It is easy. Here are stylus and tablet. Write to the Lord Basil
to meet you at the Groves of Theodora. A hint of love, passion,
promise--fulfillment of his desires--then give it to me. It shall save
your lover."
For a moment Hellayne stared wild-eyed at the woman. It was as if she
had heard a voice, the meaning of which she no longer understood.
Then, in her unimpassioned voice, she turned to Theodora.
"Only the fiend himself and Theodora could ask as much!"
The blood was coursing like a stream of lava through Theodora's veins.
Would Hellayne but step out of her reserve! Would she but abandon her
icy calm!
"Then you refuse?" she flashed.
"I defy you," Hellayne replied. "Do your worst! Rather would I see him
dead than defiled by such as you!"
"Would you, indeed?" Theodora returned with a deadly calm.
"Nevertheless, when first we met, he, for the mere asking, gave to me
a scarf of blue samite, a chased dagger, tokens from the woman he had
loved."