The Life And Death Of Richard Yea And Nay Volume 91 by Maurice Hewlett (free books to read .txt) 📕

His Brother, Without Turning His Head.

 

'Not Yet,' Cogia Replied. The Marquess Prayed Vehemently, But With Shut

Lips.

 

They Reached An Open Moor, Where There Were Rocks Covered With Cistus

And Wild Vine. Here The Air Was Very Sweet And Pure, The Sun Pleasant.

The Marquess's Ass Grew Frisky, Pricked Up His Ears And Brayed. Giafar

Ibn Mulk Edged Up Close, And Put His Arm Round The Marquess's Neck.

 

'The Signal Is A Good One,' He Said. 'Strike, Cogia.'

 

Cogia Drove His Knife In Up To The Heft. The Marquess Coughed. Giafar

Lifted Him From His Ass, Quite Dead.

 

'Now,' Says He, 'Go Thou Back, Cogia. I Will Stay Here. For So The Old

Man Plainly Desired.'

 

'I Think With You,' Said Cogia. 'Give Me The Token.' So They Cut Off The

Marquess's Right Hand, And Cogia, After Shaking It, Put It In His Vest.

When He Was Well Upon His Way To The Mountain Road, Giafar Sat Down On A

Bank Of Violets, Ate Some Bread And Dates, Then Went To Sleep In The

Sun. So Afterwards He Was Found By A Picket Of Soldiers From Sidon, Who

Also Found All Of Their Lord But His Right Hand. They Took Giafar Ibn

Mulk And Burned Him Alive.

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The Old Man Of Musse Was Extremely Kind To Jehane, Who Pleased Him So

Well That He Was Seldom Out Of Her Company. He Thought Fulke A Fine

Little Boy, As He Could Hardly Fail To Be, Owning Such Parents. All The

Liberty That Was Possible To The Favourite Of Such A Great Prince She

Had. One Day, About Six Weeks After She Had First Come Into The Valley,

He Sent For Her. When She Had Come In And Made Her Reverence He Drew Her

Near To His Throne, Put His Arm Round Her, And Kissed Her. He Observed

With Satisfaction That She Was Looking Very Well.

 

'My Child,' He Said Kindly, 'I Have News Which I Am Sure Will Please

You. Very Much Of The Marquess Of Montferrat Is By This Time Lying

Disintegrate In A Vault.'

 

Jehane's Green Eyes Faltered For A Moment As She Gazed Into His Wise Old

Face.

 

'Sir,' She Asked, By Habit, 'Is This True?' 'It Is Quite True,' Said The

Old Man. 'In Proof Of It Regard His Hand, Which One Of My Assassins, The

Survivor, Has Brought Me.' He Drew From His Bosom A Pale Hand, And Would

Have Laid It In Jehane's Lap If She Had Let Him. As She Would Not, He

Placed It Beside Him On The Floor. Pursuing His Discourse, He Said--

 

'I Might Fairly Claim My Reward For That. And So I Should If I Had Not

Got It Already.'

 

Again Jehane Pondered Him Gravely. 'What Reward More Have You, Sire?'

 

The Old Man, Smiling Very Wisely, Pressed Her Waist. Jehane Thought.

 

'Why, What Will You Do With Me Now, Sire?' She Inquired. 'Will You Kill

Me?'

 

'Can You Ask?' Said The Old Man. Then He Went On More Seriously To Say

That He Supposed The Life Of King Richard To Be Safe For The Immediate

Future, But That He Foresaw Great Difficulties In His Way Before He

Could Be Snug At Home. 'The Marquess Of Montferrat Was By No Means His

Only Enemy,' He Told Her. 'The Melek Suffers, What All Great Men Suffer,

From The Envy Of Others Who Are Too Obviously Fools For Him To Suppose

Them Human Creatures. But There Is Nothing A Fool Dislikes So Much As To

Behold His Own Folly; And As Your Melek Is A Looking-Glass For These

Kind, You May Depend Upon It They Will Smudge Him If They Can. He Is The

Bravest Man In The World, And One Of The Best Rulers; But He Has No

Discretion. He Is Too Absolute And Loves Too Little.'

 

Jehane Opened Her Eyes Very Wide. 'Why, Do You Know My Lord, Sire?' She

Asked. The Old Man Took Her Hand.

 

'There Are Very Few Personages In The World Of Whom I Do Not Know

Something,' He Said; 'And I Tell You That There Are Terms To The Melek's

Government. A Man Cannot Say Yea And Nay As He Chooses Without Paying

The Price. The Debt On Either Hand Mounts Up. He May Choose With Whom He

Will Settle--Those He Has Favoured Or Those He Has Denied. As A Rule One

Finds The Former More Insatiable. Let Him Then Beware Of His Brother.'

 

Jehane Leaned Towards Him, Pleading With Eyes And Mouth. 'Oh, Sire,' She

Said, Trembling At The Lips, 'If You Have Any Regard For Me, Tell Me

When Any Danger Threatens King Richard. For Then I Must Leave You.'

 

'Why, That Is As It May Be,' Said Her Master; 'But I Will Let You Know

What I Think Good For You To Know, And That Must Content You.'

 

Jehane's Beauty, Enhanced As It Was Now By The Sumptuous Attire Which

She Loved And By Her Bodily Well-Being, Was Great, And Her Modesty

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Greater; But Her Heart Was The Greatest Thing She Had. She Raised Her

Eyes Again To The Twinkling Eyes Of Her Possessor, And Kept Them There

For A Few Steady Seconds, While She Turned Over His Words In Her Mind.

Then She Looked Down, Saying, 'I Will Certainly Stay With You Till My

Lord's Danger Is At Hand. It Is A Good Air For My Baby.'

 

'It Is Good For All Manner Of Things,' Said The Old Man; 'And Remarkably

Good For You, My Garden Of Exhaustless Pleasure. And I Will See To It

That It Continues To Water The Roses In Your Cheeks, Beautiful Child.'

Jehane Folded Her Hands.

 

'You Will Do As You Choose, My Lord,' Said She, 'I Doubt Not.'

 

'Be Quite Sure Of It, Dear Child,' Said The Old Man.

 

Then He Sent Her Back Into The Harem.

 

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'Consider With Anxious Care The Marrow Of Your Master When He Is

Fortunate,' Writes Milo Of Poictiers: 'If It Lasts Him, He Is A Slow

Spender Of His Force; But On That Account All The More Dangerous In

Adversity, Having The Deeper Funds. By This I Would Be Understood To

Imply That The Devil Of Anjou, Turned To Fighting Uses In King Richard's

Latter Years, Found Him A Habitable Fortalice.' With The Best Reasons In

Life For The Reflection, He Might Have Said It More Simply; For It Is

Simply True. Deserted By His Allies, Balked Of His Great Aspiration,

Within A Day's March Of The Temple Of God, Yet As Far From That As From

His Castle Of Chinon; Eaten With Fever; Having Death, Lost Purpose,

Murmurings, Fed Envy Reproach, Upon His Conscience--He Yet Fought His

Way Through Sullen Leagues Of Mud To Ascalon; Besieged It, Drove His

Enemy Out, Regained It. Thence, Pushing Quickly South, He Surprised

Darum, And Put The Garrison To The Sword. By This Act He Cut Saladin In

Two, And Drove Such A Wedge Into The Body Of His Empire As Might Leave

Either Lung Of It At His Mercy. The Time Seemed, Indeed, Ripe For

Negotiation. Saladin Sent His Brother Down From Jerusalem With Presents

Of Hawks; Richard, Sitting In Armed State At Darum, Received Him

Affably. There Was Still A Chance That Treaty Might Win For Jesus Christ

What The Sword Had Not Won.

 

Then, As If In Mockery Of The Greatness Of Men, Came Ill News Apace. The

Volume 91 Book 2 (The Book Of Nay) Chapter 9 (How King Richard Reaped What Jehane Had Sowed, And The Soldan Was Gleaner) Pg 154

Frenchmen, Back In Acre, Heard Tell Of Montferrat's Doings And Undoing.

Pretty Work Of This Sort Perturbed The Allies. The Duke Of Burgundy

Charged Saladin With The Murder; Saint-Pol Loudly Charged King Richard,

And The Duke's Death, Coming Timely, Left Him In The Field. He Made The

Most Of His Chance, Wrote To The Emperor, To King Philip, To His Cousin

The Archduke Of Austria (At Home By Now), Of This Last Shameful Deed Of

The Red Angevin. He Even Sent Messengers To Richard Himself With Open

Letters Of Accusal. Richard Laughed, But For All That Broke Off

Negotiations With Saladin Until He Could Prove Saint-Pol As Great A Liar

As He Himself Knew Him To Be. Then Rose Up Again The Question Of The

Crown Of Jerusalem. The Count Of Champagne Took Ship And Came To Darum

To Beg It Of Richard. He Too Brought News With Him. The Duke Of Burgundy

Was Dead Of An Apoplexy. 'It Seems That God Is Still Faintly On My

Side,' Said Richard, 'There Went Out A Sooty Candle.'

 

The Next Words Gave His Boast The Lie. 'Beau Sire,' Said Count Henry, 'I

Grieve To Tell You Something More. Before I Left Acre I Saw The Abbot

Milo.'

 

Richard Had Grey Streaks In His Face. 'Ah,' He Says Hoarsely, 'Go On,

Cousin.' The Young Man Stammered.

 

'Beau Sire, God Strikes In Divers Places, But Always Finds Out The

Joints Of Our Harness.'

 

'Go On,' Says King Richard, Sitting Very Still.

 

'Dear Sire, My Cousin, The Abbot Milo Went Out Of Acre Three Weeks

Before The Death Of The Marquess. With Him Also Went Madame Jehane; But

He Returned Without Her. This Is All I Know, Though It Is Not All That

The Abbot Knows.'

 

At The Mention Of Her Name The King Took A Sharp Breath, As You Or I Do

When