A Midsummer Tempest Read online

  “Per’aps,” said d’Artagnan skeptically. He became more cheery when his glance fell on Jennifer, who having noticed him in turn could not altogether suppress curiosity. She reddened a little, brushed an amber lock off her brow, and grew interested in the wake of the nearer wheel.

  “’Ow far d’you plan to travel on t’rough France?” he asked.

  “To Mar-sales,” Barker replied. Quickly: “All our papers are in order.”

  “You stop off in Paris? I could find time”—d’Artagnan made a motion toward the girl which was not precisely a bow, since she wasn’t observing, but had the effect of one—“to show your … daughter? … somezing of ze sights.”

  “Ah, nay—”

  “R-r-respectably, wiz chaperone.”

  “She’s not my daughter! Do I look so old?” (D’Artagnan cocked a brow.) “She is—well, sith ’tis in our documents—” Barker bent close to speak low and confidentially. (D’Artagnan averted his nose as much as possible.) “Her uncle is my friend, a mighty man. Alas, she’s lately suffered fits of madness. Close watch is needed lest she harm herself, for while she is most times quite rational, she suddenly may try to flee or fight, accuse the ones who love her best—D’you know? On medical advice, we take her south, in hopes a softer climate may bring cure, or cruises on the pleasant inland sea.”

  The Frenchman crossed himself. “Mon Dieu!” Pity welled in his tone: “So young and fair. Zat twists ze ’eart, e’en in an officer of musketeers.… Adieu, monsieur. Be sure I’ll pray for ’er.”

  He went rapidly off around the cabin. Barker glowered. “Think’st thou thy Papist chants are aught but noise?” he said under his breath. “Would God that I could shun thy Nineveh!” He squared his shoulders. “Yet I will steel myself, will be a Jonah.”

  Proceeding to where Jennifer stood, he told her, “That was a most important frog I met.”

  “And you the lime which made his mouth to pucker,” she retorted, still staring outward.

  He flushed. “More insolence? Repent, before too late!”

  She gave her low-keyed answer some forethought. “I spoke in haste. Nay, you are not the lime they’ve found will keep men healthy far at sea. You’re scurvy.”

  “Oh, but you will weep for that,” he moaned, “when, in the punishment of captured Rupert, you see the error of your willful ways!”

  “What makes you think I’ll help you track him down?” she said between her teeth. “You took my ring away—”

  “Lest you discard it.”

  “How gladly would I cast it in the sea, or with mine own hand hold it in a fire.” Jennifer smote the rail. “You cannot make me wear it for your guide.”

  “We can,” he declared, “and will, once we have reached the South. To slip it on your finger when the wrists are firmly gripped? There’s nothing easier. And who will wonder if they see you forced to walk whatever way we prod? You’re mad—you’re being treated by such exercise—” He took her arm. She shivered and tried to draw away, but he tightened his hold and spoke in a high, hurried voice:

  “Believe me, Mistress Jennifer, what woe it is that I must thus give pain to you. How I will cry hosannas when you’re healed, your devil driven out by Christian meekness, your grateful tearflow laving this my hand! How I shall welcome you back in the fold! Aye, even—maybe—think you not unworthy, when properly instructed, that I tell Sir Malachi he may betroth you to me.” In haste: “No promises thus far! You’ve leave to hope and strive for betterment; and I will help. I’ll preach until my words wear down those doors a demon has made fast within your mind.”

  He collected air. “But I will not bespeak religion yet,” he said. “Let me begin with practicalities. You are a sailor’s daughter, I recall. You have known hardship, toil, and friends who drowned. Look o’er the water at our fellow ships”—he gestured grandly—”where men and canvas wrestle wind and tide, then feel this engine striding underfoot and thank the Lord for the progressiveness wherewith our new age is identified, a purifying age of iron men as well as iron instruments—What’s that?”

  A thump and rattle went through the hull. The paddlewheels chunked to a halt. The stack wheezed forth a few last dismal soot-clouds.

  “God damn that pressure gauge!” roared a voice. “All hands on deck! Aloft, you scuts! Set sail ere we collide!”

  Jennifer gave Barker a long, sweet smile. “An age of iron men,” she murmured, “and wooden brains.” Abruptly she giggled, before tossing her head and going from him. Her guards came after.

  RUPERT’S CABIN ABOARD SHIP.

  Moorish lavishness had largely overcome Spanish austerity throughout the Kingdom of Tunis. Two bunks, with lockers beneath, flanked a thick and colorful carpet. Aft was a built-in, padded seat, before which a table could be folded down. The bulkheads bore paneling inlaid with enamel-and-ivory arabesques. A window stood open to the rush and cluck, the amiable salt breezes of a night sea. A large mellow-shining lantern, hung from the overhead, barely moved.

  Rupert sat with a book. His huge frame was attired in shirt of silk, doublet of black velvet trimmed in vair, modish knee breeches and white stockings, pearl-studded kid slippers. At a knock he raised his head and called, “Come in.”

  Duchess Belinda entered. Silver and rubies glittered in her hair, at throat, on fingers; a low-cut bodice and close-fitting purple gown showed other opulencies. Rupert sprang up. “My lady!” he said. “What brings you here?”

  “Shame that you spend your evenings alone,” she said merrily.

  “I dine and sup each day with you … and his Grace, when he feels well—and now, ’tis very late. I thought you’d gone to rest.”

  “Well, you’ve not. I hear you talked of as showing lights till every hour. Why can’t you sleep?” Her voice was a honeycomb. She came to take his hands and search his eyes. “Do your quarters lack comfort? Surely either of those beds is much too small for you.”

  “Nay, my lady, a soldier learns how to snore anywhere. ’Tis but that I’ve less need of sleep then most men. Indeed, I feel guilty that the mates must vacate their room for me.”

  “La! If they consider themselves not honored to house Prince Rupert of the Rhine, they deserve no more than their hammocks.… Place the refreshments, Niña.”

  The maid, who had followed the duchess in, lowered the table and onto it a tray she carried. Thence she took a decanter, two crystal goblets, sweetmeats in a bowl, and a silk pouch. “Good,” said Belinda. “Thou may’st go. I shall not require thee further this night.”

  Plainly overjoyed, the girl curtsied and hastened out. Her mistress laughed. “Methinks she’ll see your Will inside the minute. I’ve an idea they themselves are skimping on sleep.”

  “But, my lady—” Rupert floundered, “this—that is—”

  “Be not too stiff,” she said; “at least, not in respect of propriety. My lord knows where I am and approves, though the voyage has put such strain on him he’d better keep his bed. And see, we leave the door wide open.” She went sinuously to hook it. “Yet still we’ll have sufficient privacy.”

  “For what, my lady?”

  She slithered back toward him. “For your pride, Rupert. I might well say your haughtiness. First however: I’ve repeatedly bade you call me by name. We’re friends—close friends, I hope—not a pair of titles.”

  Placing herself on the settee, she gave him no choice but to do likewise. “Will you pour the sherry?” she asked. “We may as well enjoy us, no?”

  He obeyed. She raised her goblet. “A nuestra salud,” she proposed. A smile stole onto his mouth. They clinked glasses and sipped.

  “What were you reading, Rupert?” she asked.

  “A Portuguese account of exploration in the northern Americas, which Captain Mena lent me.”

  “I knew not you read Portuguese.”

  “Well, when one can follow along in Latin, Spanish, French, Italian—” (She blinked admiringly.) He cleared his throat. “’Tis fascinating, that land about the bay Henry Hudson found. T
his writer dwells on the fur trade; but more important, I think, are his observations of auroras and the fact that the north magnetic pole must be nearby. Moreover, the natives possess some ingenious artifices we could well adapt, not to speak of most remarkable beliefs and customs.”

  She leaned cheek on hand. “Ah, Rupert,” she sighed, “the whole of creation is the range of your mind.”

  “Ach, no, my lady—Belinda. I’m a mere soldier.” He drank deep to hide and ease his confusion. “What business brings you here?”

  She pouted. “Another man would wonder what goddess he owes thanks for such a delightful occasion.” (Rupert flushed.) She chuckled and stroked his arm. “Nay, I’d not have you be any other man.”

  Growing serious: “You’ve told us little about your mission, really only that you were captured at Marston Moor, escaped, and seek something which may aid the Royal cause, somewhere in the waters between Europe and Africa.”

  “I ought say no more,” he answered low. His glance dropped to the ring on his clenched left fist. “If only because ’tis too fantastical and forlorn.”

  “Well, I’ll not urge you ’gainst your will. Yet never forget what friends you have in … Carthage. For your own sake as well as that of your King, of kings everywhere, we rejoice at any aid we may lend.”

  “You are good. I wonder if ’twas altogether chance our courses crossed. I’ve certain secret allies; their powers are slight—Nay. Proceed, I pray you.”

  “You were bound for Holland, to ask what help your mother might give.” Belinda leaned forward and close. Lantern light moved golden across hair and face; it cast moving shadows in her bodice. Waves whooshed, breezes lulled. The ship moved gently as a rocking cradle. “That would be scant. Nevertheless you chose to fare with us, to arrive sooner near your goal, though you’ve just a single companion and hardly two shillings to click together.”

  Rupert shrugged. “The venture’s desperate enough that that recks little.”

  “Your boldness thrills me.” She pointed to herself. “See the chill rising on my flesh.… Still, you’ll not shun assistance, I’m sure.” A deep sigh. “Would I could furnish troopers and a frigate! Impossible; my lord’s a peaceful man.” Her lip lifted a fraction. At once: “After difficulty, I’ve persuaded him to offer you this purse. The gold should reach some ways along your road.”

  “Belinda, I—I cannot,” Rupert stuttered, half dismayed. “I dare not—”

  “Aye, you do!” she said fiercely. “I’d liefer ’twas a gift, but call it a loan if you wish. King Charles can repay us, when you’ve come down off those crags you’re scaling to bring him his crown back from the vultures’ nest. Your duty, Rupert. You may not refuse.”

  She caught his right hand in her own and drew it across the table, where her left brought the pouch up against his palm. Slowly, he closed fingers on it. After a few more seconds, she let him withdraw from her clasp and blew him a kiss. “Wise man, in this if in naught else,” she sang.

  “I have no words to thank you.”

  “Indeed you do. Words of yourself, Rupert. Your adventures, your achievements—and perhaps you’ll draw my portrait, being a master artist?”

  “I’d love that.”

  She turned her head back and forth upon twining neck and rotating shoulders. “Which profile?” she murmured. “What pose? We must try many positions—Oh!”

  That last was no cry of joy. Pulling his gaze from her with an almost audible rip, the prince saw Duke Hernán in the doorway. Clad in a nightshirt and robe, leaning on a cane, features sunken and sallow, he gave them a shaky smile.

  “Your Grace!” Rupert jumped to greet him and lead him to the table. “What a wonderful surprise. You’re feeling better?”

  “Better, yes, better.” As he settled down next to his wife, Rupert on his other side, the diplomat continued: “Yes, yes, si, blessèd be thees calm, though honesty does make me confess ’ow w’en we reach Tunis I’ve promeesed feefty candles een thanksgeeveeng to San Antonio, that ees St. Anthony, you know, who leeved een the desert very far from water.” He blinked benevolently at them. “You ’ave done your beezness?”

  She nodded with small enthusiasm.

  “My gratitude’s unbounded to your Grace,” Rupert said. “Here, let me fetch a glass for you.”

  “No, no,” said Hernán. His voice was unsteady. “My stomach ees steel back een that last gale we ’ad, heh, heh, heh. Ah, to be young again! But you two weell find ’ow soon golden youth does flee.” He wagged a finger. “So lay up treasure een ’eaven now, because pious self-denials, fasteeng, abstentions, are worth much, much more at your age than they weell be later w’en you must practeece them anyway. Nay, seet down, ’Ighness, seet down. I deed awaken and thought eet would be jolly to join you two young people and, yes, yes, maybe counsel you, geeve you advice from an expeerience wheech ees, eef I may say’t, long and—and—varièd? Yes, varièd. Ah, I remember once een Barcelona … seexteen ’undred and twenty-nine eet was, or twenty-eight?—I theenk twenty-nine, though per’aps—bueno, eet was the feast of the Eleven Thousand Virgeens, I do remember that—”

  Rupert made himself comfortable and prepared to exercise the virtue of patience. Belinda interrupted by a touch and a soft remark: “Darling, I’m very happy for you. But have a care. You catch cold so easily. Rupert, would you close the window?”

  “Nay,” said the duke. “Open, open. Fresh air refreshes. True, I am a beet a-sheever, seence my lady reminds me.… ’owever, an old campaigner, heh, heh, heh. You young caballeros ’ave ’ad your adventures, yes, yes, you ’ave, I deny eet not, but let me tell you—”

  “And you must be starved,” Belinda said. “Take a comfit.”

  She offered him a particularly gooey one. He gulped and waved it away. “No! My stomach.… Per’aps a glass of water, a dry beescueet—”

  “Ship’s biscuits are best left alone on Friday, dear. And Rupert, in spite of what he says, I must insist you shut the window, no matter how hot, close, and greasy-smelling it gets. As for thee, my lord, if thou canst rise (from thy bed, at any rate,” Belinda added under her breath), “I’d be remiss did I not see to’t thou receivest better nourishment than a spoonful of broth or gruel. I’ll have the cook roused at once to prepare thee—let me think—” She made a pretty gesture of frowning, touching the corner of her mouth, then beaming. “Ah, yes! Eggplant and onion fried in oil, garlic below and melted cheese a-bubble above, with lavishness of pepper. Moreover, midnight’s not far off, when thou canst lawfully take a pork chop.”

  The duke changed color and swallowed several times. “No,” he said feebly.

  She did not seem to hear. “Ah, my lord,” she asked, “will it not be delicious, a fat-dripping pork chop and peppery fried potatoes? Or might these be better cold, their grease congealed? Nay, the soverign remedy, I’ve heard, is the raw white of an egg, let slide down the throat ere one goes on to fat pork and oozy potatoes.”

  The duke lurched to his feet. Rupert hastened to assist him.

  “Furthermore,” Belinda said, “I’ve heard well recommended the chewing of tobacco. We can buy a good, strong quid from the slop chest—”

  “I … feel seeck … again,” the duke choked forth.

  Rupert took his elbow. “Come, let me help you to your couch,” the Rhinelander urged.

  “No, no—stay, por favor—” Hernán tried to straighten. “We … del Monte de Gavilanes … old campaigner—” He made what haste he could out the door and down the passageway.

  Rupert stood awhile silent. Belinda sipped her wine.

  “You were a trifle injudicious, I fear, my lady,” said Rupert, not looking at her.

  “Aforethought, as you can’t quite utter? Oh, I knew what I did,” she admitted insouciantly. “Yet think not ill of me. He has more years than my father who wedded me to him. Shall I not, then, look to his welfare as might a dutiful daughter? And you know how an ancient must ofttimes be cosseted, aye, cozened, when weakness has sapped judgment. I feared he’d ov
ertax what strength the stresses of work and war, followed by this rough journey, have left him.”

  “Well—”

  She beckoned. “Come, sit. You owe me some diversion, did we not agree? Here, take a confection”—she reached it to him—“drain your glass and refill it, and lay aside that earnestness which, I believe, is armor for a heart much too tender.”

  Inch by inch, he obeyed.

  “You learn,” she encouraged him. “Next let me start your tongue rolling. I’ve heard how, after being freed from Linz, you chanced upon the Emperor himself and his huntsmen, threatened by a wild boar, seized a spear and slew it. True?”

  “Not wholly.” Sherry gurgled into his goblet. “Truth is,” he said, growing more at east as he talked, “under the law there, my release could not be final till I’d kissed his hand. Thus I was seeking him, unsure whether he’d allow this ceremony. The boar was not really endangering his life, though ’twas forsooth a gross brute, causing the hunters great trouble. An opportunity. If I, a stranger, helped them, he’d doubtless reach to clasp my hand—”

  Belinda listened.

  xvi

  A ROAD IN FRANCE.

  ORLEANAIS rolled subtly parti-colored beneath a cloudless hot heaven: tawny stubblefields, brown hayricks, bleached green pillars of poplar, apple orchards beginning to glow red, vineyards heavy with purple clusters, widely scattered farmsteads whose buildings had walls of gray stucco, roofs of dark thatch or umber tile. Peasants at work wore faded blue smocks and plain sabots; their ox-drawn wagons and donkey carts were gaily painted. They were a stocky, sturdy folk, who would let go sickles or spades to hail passers-by, throw a jest at a neighbor, gulp some wine from a clay jug.

  There went a smell of earth and summer, but it was nearly lost in the dust thrown up by hoofs and wheels. A coach was rattling southward behind four horses. Baggage made a hillock on the roof. One black-clad, tall-hatted man drove, another clung behind. Six more fared in saddles, their leader riding postilion, the rest strung on either side. Though likewise in civil array, except for allowable swords, they had the seat of cavalrymen.