The Fool Beloved

Jeffery Farnol

Description

A story of romance and adventure set in Italy in the Middle ages. Noblemen plot amongst themselves to remove the counselors of their young Duchess and to induce her to marry one of their number. By a trick, one of her friends escapes death and plans a method of revenging himself upon his enemies and saving the Duchess.

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Romans historiques
• Moyen-Age
• Fiction
• Romance
• Historical
• Medieval

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 16 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781773236315
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Fool Beloved
by Jeffery Farnol

Firstpublished in 1949
Thisedition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria,BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
[e-mail]
All rightsreserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted inany form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, includingphotocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrievalsystem, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quotebrief passages in a review.

THE FOOL BELOVED



by JEFFERY FARNOL
To
The sacred memory of my brother
EWART
who was killed in action
Aged 19
at Vrieskraal, Africa.
1901

CHAPTER I
TELLS WHAT BEFELL AT THE BLACK HORSE TAVERN
In the dim-lit chamber of the Black Horse tavern three mensat at wine: the first a gay-seeming fellow, ornate of person,bold of gesture and fluent of speech; the second a bewhiskeredferocity, slow of tongue though quick of eye; the third apallid youth who leaned to peer from small, open lattice outupon the darkening road.
“Night!” he exclaimed, suddenly. “Night falls apaceand yet no sign o’ them! They should ha’ been here ere this!Eh, eh—how say you, Annibal?”
“Well now,” answered this first man, stretching bootedlegs to lounge more at ease, “as man of action, for this delayI curse, as gentleman I merely smile, but being a philosopherI say all’s well, my Florizel,—is so, I say, and so shall be forthat so be it must.”
“Ay, we needs must,” repeated Florizel, turning fromthe window, “being by evil compelled to this black evil——”
“Evil, quotha?” growled the scowling man ferociously.“Ha, now what puling chicken-hearted clack is this——”
“Hold!” said Annibal, with commanding gesture. “Temperthy so natural ire, my Rodrigo, for this our Florizel, beingyoung, lacketh our much experience and smarteth to the pricko’ conscience. Yet it shall blunt anon and irk him no morethan doth thine or mine. He shall ripen——”
“Oh, mock,” sighed Florizel, crouching in his chair, “mockme an ye will, yet do I protest this thing we are about to dois loathed and most detestable——”
“So now,” growled Rodrigo, “he will dare miscall ourtrade, a notable profession dignified by ages and rightgentlemanly calling——”
“Calling, ay truly!” retorted Florizel. “I’ve heard itcalled ‘murder’ ere now! And we presently compelled theretoby this damned Spanish lord Gonzago——”
“Peace, fool!” hissed Rodrigo, cowering. “Here is perilousname! Our lives do lie in his potent hand——”
“Verily! Oh, he hath us fast . . . for that one sin dothbeget others! ‘Florizel,’ saith he, becking me aside, ‘at sucha time you did thus’—naming that methought secret as thenight wherein ’twas done. ‘I’ve hanged men for less!’ saithhe, smiling——”
“Ay, yea,” nodded Annibal, “my lord hath very wheedlingway to woo one to his purposes——”
“So thus,” groaned Florizel, “are we compelled to murderone that never did us wrong, a youth we’ve never seen, ahapless student all unsuspecting——”
“And the bee cried ‘buzz’!” growled Rodrigo.
“A mere poor student,” Florizel repeated. “I marvel sogreat a lord should stoop to harm such.”
“Ay, but,” said Annibal, reaching for the wine, “this samestudent is far more than he seems and therefore more worthythe—ha—attentions of such as we, my Florizel! He hathbeen oft assailed upon the road and lives yet!”
“Then,” growled Rodrigo, “there was curst bungling!”
“Nay—there was featly play o’ rapier and dagger whereforeour comrade Bandello lieth sore wounded! And dostmind that jovial toss-pot Vitry the Frenchman?”
“Certes. A merry, frolicsome fellow.”
“Well, he will frolic no more.”
“How—is he dead?”
“As mutton! And by this same well-managed steel! Thisstudent proveth notable man at arms, ha? Now I’ve heardtell our great Fortunio, this redoubtable fighter and invinciblecommander, hath a brother who, though a scholarly youthand lover of books, can twirl rapier featly as Fortunio’s self,having learned the gentle art of that grimly old swordsman,Jacomo, his ancient. Well, is all plain now?”
“Ay, by the fiend, plain as these my hilts! Here’s gameworthy of us!”
“In verity!” nodded Annibal. “Thus, Vitry and the othersfailed! But we——”
“Aha—we,” chuckled Rodrigo; “thou and I do neverfail. So ’tis good as done and this lordly student no betterthan crow’s-meat even now.”
“Is this so sure?”
“As death, my Florizel, I warrant you this striplingshall pass aloft so gently, so sweetly-swift he shall scarceknow it.”
“Ay,” quoth Rodrigo, “we be marvellous expert, Annibaland I! We ha’ sped many a weary soul heavenwards!”
“And thus,” laughed Annibal, “are become benefactors o’mankind. For as this sorry world is full of all manner ofhardships, sufferings and evils——”
“As murders!” whispered Florizel.
“Yea, murders and the like grievous necessities, it thenfollows—how good and noble are such as we to waft a soulfrom these vile haunts, this very doghole of a world, to thatcelestial kingdom, that sinless paradise, where is no contentionsave the throb of harps. Thus ’tis like enough this youngCount Angelo, thus throned in bliss by our efforts, shallpour benedictions upon our heads anon for very gratitude.”
“Oho!” chuckled Rodrigo. “Right excellent well said,Annibal! But since our student rideth with a friend, mustwe thus waft both to paradise?”
“This as may be—so long as we do angelize youngAngelo! For, and mark this well, ’tis suspected he bearsdispatches, a letter of the utmost import; this we must secure!And that we may certainly know him I have his exact description—hearkee!”
So saying, Annibal drew a paper from the ornate pouchat his girdle, wherefrom he now read aloud: “Neither tallnor short, and something slender. He is black-haired, darkof eye and pale complexion. Item: carrieth silver-hilted rapierwhereon is ’graven the badge of his house, to wit ‘Fidena’.Item: a black cloak, scarlet-lined and edged with oak leavesin silver. Item: a wide-eaved hat with feather o’ scarlet.”
“Good!” nodded Rodrigo. “I shall know him at a glance.”
“Moreover, we are to take each some token for proof ourbusiness brought to happy finality. So, his cloak for me.”
“And I his hat. Soho Florizel, and what’s for thee, what?”
“Who knoweth? His sword belike! Now since he isbrother to the great Fortunio that so lately freed our duchyfrom dread o’ the Turk, why requite him thus vilely, whymust we do this thing?”
“For reasons o’ State, my Florizel, and for that we are socommanded——”
“Ay, by this Gonzago! And to what end?”
“The advantage of us all. We—being the very fingers ofhis hands, the toes of his feet whereby he climbeth to power;as he mounts so mount we. Thus shall our fortunes soarand——”
Annibal paused as to them shambled their host Tomaso, afat man who sweated, breathed short and wheezed:
“Soldiers, my masters . . . there be soldiers . . . i’ thevillage hard by . . . men o’ the lord Fortunio’s guard——”
“Ha!” exclaimed Rodrigo, leaping afoot. “A thousanddevils! What now, Annibal?”
“Drink!” he answered, suiting act to word.
“Malediction!” snarled Rodrigo, clapping hand on sword.“Are they for us, Tomaso? Are we betrayed——”
“No, no, messires! I do but warn ye how there must beno shooting to rouse the village and bring these soldiers downon us. I do but warn.”
“So?” nodded Annibal. “Then Tomaso, my fat one,bleat not so lamb-like. Content you, here shall be no blatanttrigger-work nor hit-or-miss thunderous discharges; our steelby soundless insertion shall suffice. See therefore you keep usprivate here.”
“I will indeed, sir.”
“Hast set a watch upon the road to advise us of ourtravellers’ approach.”
“Even so. You shall be duly warned, good masterAnnibal.”
“Look up, old lad!” cried Count Angelo, clapping hissilent companion on broad shoulder. “Yonder is the frontierat last, and beyond—my home country!”
“Good!” exclaimed Sir John Courtenay. “Though inEngland, as you’ll mind, are no frontiers, thank God, by HisGrace we have the sea that is our everlasting barrier andsure defence.”
“Ah,” sighed Angelo, “would this ravaged land mighthave such barrier!”
“Nay, but, Angelo, this country, though fair, is notEngland, alas!”
“You are mighty proud of that same little island, eh,John?”
“Indeed, that am I, and with good reason. For though inthis great world be many and divers countries, there is onlyone England! And ’tis of nature so miraculous that nomatter how far an Englishman journey, even as I, or rovethhither and yon about this earth, yet is he forever at home;by cause he ever beareth England in his very heart.”
“A fair thought, John. So here you shall be twice athome. For beyond those hills, that are nigher than they seem,is Celonia and my brother’s castle of Fidena where you shallfind such glad and hearty welcome that even your Englandand our years together at Oxenford will fade to a dream.”
“Then ’twill be dream as blessed as our last days o’ travelhave been right cursed nightmare, what with bad roads,worser inns, thievish rogues and ruffians, sudden alarms,ambuscados and bloody onfalls!”
“Indeed,” said Angelo, thoughtfully, “latterly our journeyhath been something eventful——”
“Eventful?” exclaimed Sir John indignantly. “Good lackand God aid us—eventful, d’ye say? Here we’ve been shotat, cut at, stabbed at, ridden at, bedogged and bedevilled, andyou call it ‘eventful’! Here’s me with a bullet-hole cleanthrough my hat, and another very perilously through mybreeches and you with a rapier-thrust quite through thatfine, Italianate cloak o’ yours, and you call it—ha—that cloak!This gives me cause to ponder!”
“Why so, John?”
“By cause, Angelo, this same cloak is the only foreignthing about you! In all else—speech, look, dress and gesture—youare as English as myself and thus with no curst, foreignbraggadocio flourishes, no feigned ferocity of rolling eye,scowling brow, flaring nostril, snarling lip, gnashing teeth orlike futile fooleries. No, thou art, to all seeming, a veryEnglishman and right worthy so to be!”
“ ’Slife!” laughed Angelo. “This—and from such