Joan of the Sword Hand. Crockett Samuel Rutherford

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СКАЧАТЬ spring and it is my hap to ride to Courtland for my marriage day. Then I promise you you shall see somewhat of her – the Lord send that it be not more than enough!"

      So through many bitter winter days the Sparhawk abode at the castle of Kernsberg, ill content.

      CHAPTER XII

      JOAN FORSWEARS THE SWORD

      It was not in accordance with etiquette that two such nobly born betrothed persons, to be allied for reasons of high State policy, should visit each other openly before the day of marriage; but many letters and presents had at various times come to Kernsberg, all bearing witness to the lover-like eagerness of the Prince of Courtland and of his desire to possess so fair a bride, especially one who was to bring him so coveted a possession as the hill provinces of Kernsberg and Hohenstein.

      Amongst other things he had forwarded portraits of himself, drawn with such skill as the artists of the Baltic at that time possessed, of a man in armour, with a countenance of such wooden severity that it might stand (as the Duchess openly declared) just as well for Werner, her chief captain, or any other man of war in full panoply.

      "But," said Joan within herself, "what care I for armour black or armour white? Mine eyes have seen – and my heart does not forget."

      Then she smiled and for a while forgot the coming inevitable disappointment of the Princess Margaret, which troubled her much at other times.

      The winter was unusually long and fierce in the mountains of Kernsberg that year, and even along the Baltic shores the ice packed thicker and the snow lay longer by a full month than usual.

      It was the end of May, and the full bursting glory of a northern spring, when at last the bridal cavalcade wound down from the towers of the Castle of Kernsberg. Four hundred riders there were, every man arrayed like a prince in the colours of Hohenstein – four fairest maids to be bridesmaids to their Duchess, and as many matrons of rank and years to bring their mistress with dignity and discretion to her new home. But the people and the rough soldiers openly mourned for Joan of the Sword Hand. "The Princess of Courtland will not be the same thing!" they said.

      And they were right, for since the last time she rode out Joan had thought many thoughts. Could it be that she was indeed that reckless maid who once had vowed that she would go and look once at the man her father had bidden her marry, and then, if she did not like him, would carry him off and clap him into a dungeon till he had paid a swinging ransom? But the knight of the white plume, and the interview she had had with a certain Prince in the summer palace of Courtland, had changed all that.

      Now she would be sober, grave – a fit mate for such a man. Almost she blushed to recall her madcap feats of only a year ago.

      As they approached the city, and each night brought them closer to the great day, Joan rode more by herself, or talked with the young Dane, Maurice von Lynar, of the Princess Margaret – without, however, telling him aught of the rose garden or the expositions of foreign customs which had preceded the duel with the Wasp.

      The heart of the Duchess beat yet faster when at last the day of their entry arrived. As they rode toward the gate of Courtland they were aware of a splendid cavalcade which came out to receive them in the name of the Prince, and to conduct them with honour to the palace prepared for them.

      In the centre of a brilliant company rode the Princess Margaret, in a well-fitting robe of pale blue broidered with crimson, while behind and about her was such a galaxy of the fashion and beauty of a court, that had not Joan remembered and thought on the summer parlour and the man who was waiting for her in the city, she had almost bidden her four hundred riders wheel to the right about, and gallop straight back to Kernsberg and the heights of rustic Hohenstein.

      At sight of the Duchess's party the Princess alighted from off her steed with the help of a cavalier. At the same moment Joan of the Sword Hand leaped down of her own accord and came forward to meet her new sister.

      The two women kissed, and then held each other at arm's length for the luxury of a long look.

      The face of the Princess showed a trace of emotion. She appeared to be struggling with some recollection she was unable to locate with precision.

      "I hope you will be very happy with my brother," she faltered; then after a moment she added, "Have you not perchance a brother of your own?"

      But before Joan could reply the representative of the Prince had come forward to conduct the bride-elect to her rooms, and the Princess gave place to him.

      But all the same she kept her eyes keenly about her, and presently they rested with a sudden brightness upon the young Dane, Maurice von Lynar, at the head of his troop of horse. He was near enough for her to see his face, and it was with a curious sense of strangeness that she saw his eyes fixed upon herself.

      "He is different – he is changed," she said to herself; "but how – wait till we get to the palace, and I shall soon find out!"

      And immediately she caused it to be intimated that all the captains of troops and the superior officers of the escort of the Duchess Joan were to be entertained at the palace of the Princess Margaret.

      So that at the moment when Joan was taking a first survey of her chambers, which occupied one entire wing of the Palace of the Princes of Courtland, Margaret the impetuous had already commanded the presence of the Count von Löen, one of the commanders of the bridal escort.

      The young officer entrusted with the message returned almost immediately, to find his mistress impatiently pacing up and down.

      "Well?" she said, halting at the upper end of the reception-room and looking at him.

      "Your Highness," he said, "there is no Count von Löen among the officers of Kernsberg!"

      Margaret of Courtland stamped her foot.

      "I expected as much," she said. "He shall pay for this. Why, man, I saw him with my own eyes an hour ago – a young man, slender, sits erect in his saddle, of a dark allure, and with eyes like those of an eagle."

      A flush came over the youth's face.

      "Does he look like the brother of the Duchess Joan?" he said.

      "That is the man – Count von Löen or no. That is the man, I tell you. Bring him immediately to me."

      The young officer smiled.

      "Methinks he will come readily enough. He started forward as if to follow me when first I told my message. But when I mentioned the name of the Count von Löen he stood aside in manifest disappointment."

      "At all events, bring him instantly!" commanded the Princess.

      The officer bowed low and retired.

      The Princess Margaret smiled to herself.

      "It is some more of their precious State secrets," she said. "Well – I love secrets, and I can keep them too; but only my own, or those that are told to me. And I will make my gentleman pay for playing off his Counts von Löen on me!"

      Presently she heard heavy footsteps approaching the door.

      "Come in – come in straightway," she said in a loud, clear voice; "I have a word to speak with you, Sir Count – who yet deny that you are a count. And, prithee, to how many silly girls have you taught the foreign fashions of linked arms, and all that most pleasant ceremony of leave-taking in Kernsberg and Plassenburg?"

      Then СКАЧАТЬ