CHAPTER VII
PRINCE OF VALSASSINA
As Bellarion had calculated and disposed, so things fell out, and Filippo Maria Visconti in the twenty-second year of his age led to the altar the widowed Countess of Biandrate who was thirty-nine. As a young girl, she had married, at the bidding of ambition, a man who was twenty years her senior; as a middle-aged woman now, and for the same reason, she married one who was almost as much her junior. She had not the foresight to perceive that the grievance on the score of disparity of years which she had nursed against Facino would be nursed against herself to her ultimate destruction by this sly, furtive, and cruel Prince to whom now she gave herself and her vast possessions. That, however, is no part of the story I have set myself to tell.
Estorre Visconti defended in vain his usurped dominion against Gian Maria's legitimate successor. Filippo Maria, with Carmagnola in command of some seven thousand men, laid siege to Milan, whilst Bellarion went north to make an end of the Bergamo resistance. Because in haste to have done, he granted Malatesta easy terms of surrender, permitting him to ride out of the city with the honours of war, lance on thigh. Thereafter, having restored order in Bergamo and left there a strong garrison under an officer of trust, he marched with the main army to join Filippo Maria who was conducting operations from the mills on Monte Lupario, three miles from Milan. Some four weeks already had he spent there, with little progress made. Estorre had enrolled and constrained to the defence of the city almost every man of an age to bear arms. It was necessary to make an end, and Bellarion himself with a few followers entered the Castle of Porta Giovia which was being held against Estorre by Vimercati, the castellan. From its walls, having attracted the people by trumpet-blast, he published Filippo Maria's proclamation, wherein the Prince solemnly undertook that if the city were at once surrendered to him it should have nothing to fear; that there should be no pillage, executions, or other measures punitive of this resistance to the State's legitimate lord.
The news flew in every direction, with the result that before nightfall all those whom Estorre had constrained to follow him had fallen away, and he was left with only his mercenaries. With these, next morning, he hacked a way out through the Comasina Gate as the people were throwing open to the new Duke the gates of the city on the other side.
Filippo Maria entered with a comparatively small following and in the wake of a train of bread-carts sent ahead to relieve the famine which already was beginning to press upon the inhabitants. The acclamations of 'Live the Duke!' quieted his natural timidity as he rode through the streets to shut himself up in the Castle of Porta Giovia, which remained ever afterwards his residence. Not for Filippo Maria the Palace of the Old Broletto or the gaiety of courts. His dark, scheming, yet pusillanimous nature craved the security of a stronghold.
For assisting him to the ducal throne, and no doubt to ensure their continued support, he rewarded his captains generously, and none more generously than Bellarion to whom he considered that he owed everything. Bellarion was not only confirmed in the lordship of Valsassina in feud, for himself and his heirs forever, but the Duke raised the fief into a principality.
Bellarion remained the Duke's marshal in chief and military adviser, and it was by the dispositions which he made during that summer and autumn of 1412 that the lands of the duchy were finally cleared of the insurgent brigands who had renewed their depredations.
Peace being restored at home, and industry being liberated at last from the trammels that had lain upon it since the death of Gian Galeazzo, prosperity flowed swiftly back to the State of Milan, and the people heaped blessings upon the shy, furtive ruler of whom they saw so little.
It is possible that Filippo Maria would have been content to rest for the present upon what was done, to leave the frontiers of the duchy as he found them, and to dismiss the greater part of the costly condottas in his employ. But Bellarion at his elbow goaded him to further enterprise, and met his sluggish reluctance with a culminating argument that shamed him into action.
'Will you leave, in tranquil possession, the brigands who have encroached upon the glorious patrimony built up by your illustrious father? Will you dishonour his memory and be false to your name, Lord Duke?'
Thus, and similarly, Bellarion, with a heat that was purely histrionic. He cared no more for the integrity of Gian Galeazzo's patrimony than he cared for that of the Kingdom of England. What he cared for was that the order to dispossess those tyrants would sound the knell of Theodore of Montferrat. Thus, at last, should he be enabled to complete the service, to which five years ago he had dedicated himself, and to which unfalteringly, if obscurely and tortuously, he had held. Very patiently had he waited for this hour, when, yielding at last to his bold importunities, the Duke summoned a council of the officers of State and the chief condottieri to determine the order in which action should be taken.
At once Bellarion urged that a beginning should be made by recovering Vercelli, than which few strongholds were of more importance to the safety of the duchy.
It provoked a protest from Beccarla, who was the Duke's Minister of State.
'An odd proposal this from you, Lord Bellarion, remembering that it was by your own action in concert with the Count of Biandrate that the Marquis Theodore was placed in possession of Vercelli.'
Bellarion crushed him with his logic. 'Not odd, sir, natural. Then I was on the other side. And if, being on the other side, I conceived it important that Theodore should hold Vercelli, now that I am opposed to him I conceive it equally important that he should be driven from it.'
There was a pause. Filippo Maria, somnolent in his great chair, looked round the group. 'What is the military view?' he asked. He had noticed that not one of the captains had voiced an opinion. He was answered now by the burly Koenigshofen.
'I have no views that are not Bellarion's. I have followed him long enough to know that he's a safe man to follow.'
Giasone Trotta, uninvited, expressed the same sentiment. Filippo Maria turned to Carmagnola, who sat silent and thoughtful.
'And you, sir?' he asked.
Carmagnola reared his blond head, and Bellarion braced himself for battle. But to his amazement, for once—for the first time in their long association—Carmagnola was on his side.
'I am of Bellarion's mind, magnificent. We who were with my Lord Facino when he made alliance with Theodore of Montferrat know Theodore for a crafty, daring man of boundless ambition. His occupation of Vercelli is a menace to the peace of the duchy.'
After that the other captains, Valperga and Marsilio, who had been wavering, threw in their votes, so that the military opinion was solidly unanimous.
Filippo Maria balanced the matter for a moment.
'You are not forgetting, sirs, that for Theodore's good behaviour I have in my hands a precious hostage, in the person of his nephew, the Marquis Gian Giacomo, in whose name Theodore rules. You laugh, Bellarion!'
'That hostage was procured to ensure, not the good faith of Theodore, but the safety of the real Prince of Montferrat. Carmagnola has told your magnificence that Theodore is crafty, daring, and ambitious. It is a part of his ambition to make himself absolute sovereign where at present he is no more than Regent. Let your magnificence judge if the thought of harm to the hostage you hold would be a deterrent to him.'
A while still they debated. Then Filippo Maria announced that he would take thought and make known his decision when it was reached. On that he dismissed them.
As they went from the council chamber the captains witnessed the phenomenon of a yet closer unity between Bellarion and Carmagnola. The new Prince of Valsassina linked arms with Francesco Busone, and drew him away.
'You will do a service in this matter, Ser Francesco, if you send word to Lady Valeria and her brother urging them to come at once to Milan and petition the Duke to place Gian Giacomo upon his throne. He is of full age, and only his absence from Montferrat enables Theodore to continue in the Regency.'
Carmagnola looked at him suspiciously. 'Why do you not send that message, yourself?'
Bellarion shrugged and spread his hands a little. 'I have not the confidence of the Princess. A message from me might be mistrusted.'
Carmagnola's fine blue eyes pondered him still with that suspicious glance. 'What game do you play?' he asked.
'I see that you mistrust me, too.'
'I ever have done.'
'It's a compliment,' said Bellarion.
'If it is, I don't perceive it.'
'If you did, you wouldn't pay it. You are direct, Carmagnola; and for that I honour you. I am not direct, and yet you may come to honour me for that too when you understand it, if you ever do. You ask what game I play. A game which began long ago, in which this is the last move. The alliance I brought about between Facino and Theodore was a move in this game; the securing of the person of Gian Giacomo of Montferrat as a hostage was another; to make it possible for Theodore to occupy Vercelli and make himself Lord of Genoa, yet another. My only aim was to unbridle his greed so that he should become a menace to the duchy, against such a day as this, when on the Duke's side it is my duty to advise his definite destruction.'
Carmagnola's eyes were wide, amazement overspread his florid handsome face.
'By the bones of Saint Ambrose, you play mighty deep!'
Bellarion smiled. 'I am frank with you. I explain myself. It is tedious but necessary so as to conquer your mistrust and procure your cooperation.'
'To make me a pawn in this game of yours?'
'That is to describe yourself unflatteringly. Francesco Busone of Carmagnola is no man's pawn.'
'No, by God! I am glad you perceive that.'
'Should I have explained myself if I did not?' said Bellarion to assure him of a fact of which clearly he was far from sure.
'Tell me why you so schemed and plotted?'
Bellarion sighed. 'To amuse myself, perhaps. It interests me. Facino said of me that I was a natural strategist. This broader strategy upon the great field of life gives scope to my inclinations.' He was thoughtful, chin in hand. 'I do not think there is more in it than that.' And abruptly he asked: 'You'll send that message?'
Carmagnola too considered. There was a dream that he had dreamed, a game that he could play, making in his turn a pawn of this crafty brother captain who sought to make a pawn of him.
'I'll go to Melegnano in person,' he announced.
He went, and there dispelled the fretful suspense in which the Princess Valeria waited for a justice of which she almost despaired.
He dealt in that directness which was the only thing Bellarion found to honour in him. But the directness now was in his manner only.
'Lady, I come to bid you take a hand in your own and your brother's reinstatement. Your petition to the Duke is all that is needed now to persuade him to the step which I have urged; to march against the usurper Theodore and cast him out.
It took her breath away. 'You have urged this! You, my lord? Let me send for my brother that he may thank you, that he may know that he has at least one stout brave friend in the world.'
'His friend and your servant, madonna.' He bore her white hand to his lips, and there were tears in her eyes as she looked upon his bowed handsome head. 'My hopes, my plans, my schemes for you are to bear fruit at last.'
'Your schemes for me?'
Her brows were knit over her moist dark eyes. He laughed. A jovial, debonair, and laughter-loving gentleman, this Francesco Busone of Carmagnola.
'So as to provide a cause disposing the Duke of Milan to proceed against the Regent Theodore. The hour has come, madonna. It needs but your petition to Filippo Maria, and the army marches. So that I command it, I will see justice done to your brother.'
'So that you command it? Who else should?' Carmagnola's bright face was overcast. 'There is Bellarion Cane.'
'That knave!' She recoiled, her countenance troubled. 'He is the Regent's man. It was he who helped the Regent to Vercelli and to the lordship of Genoa.'
'Which he never could have done,' Carmagnola assured her, 'but that I abetted him. I saw that thus I should provide a reason for action against the Regent when later I should come to be on the Duke's side.'
'Ah! That was shrewd! To feed his ambition until he overreached himself.'
Carmagnola strutted a little. 'It was a deep game. But we are at the last move in it. If you mistrust this Bellarion ...'
'Mistrust him!' She laughed a bitter little laugh, and she poured forth the tale of how once he had been a spy sent by Theodore to embroil her, and how thereafter he had murdered her one true and devoted friend Count Spigno.
Feeding her mistrust and bringing Gian Giacomo fully to share it, Carmagnola conducted them to Milan and procured audience for them with the Duke.
Filippo Maria received her in a small room in the very heart of the fortress, a room to which he had brought something of the atmosphere of his library at Pavia. Here were the choicely bound manuscripts, and the writing-table with its sheaves of parchment, and its horn of unicorn, which as all the world knows is a prophylactic against all manner of ills of the flesh and the spirit. Its double window looked out upon the court of San Donato where the October sunshine warmed the red brick to the colour of the rose.
He gave her a kindly welcome, then settled into the inscrutable inertia of an obese Eastern idol whilst she made her prayer to him.
When it was done he nodded slowly, and despatched his secretary in quest of the Prince of Valsassina. The name conveyed nothing to her, for she had not heard of Bellarion's latest dignity.
'You shall have my decision later, madonna. It is almost made already, and in the direction you desire. When I have conferred with the Prince of Valsassina upon the means at our command, I will send for you again. Meanwhile the Lord of Carmagnola will conduct you and your brother to my Duchess, whom it will delight to care for you.' He cleared his throat. 'You have leave to go,' he added in his shrill voice.
They bowed, and were departing, when the returning secretary, opening the door, and holding up the arras that masked it, announced: 'The Prince of Valsassina.'
He came in erect and proud of bearing, for all that he still limped a little. His tunic was of black velvet edged with dark brown fur, a heavy gold chain hung upon his breast, a girdle of beaten gold gripped his loins and carried his stout dagger. His hose were in white and blue stripes.
From the threshold he bowed low to the Prince and then to Madonna Valeria, who was staring at him in sudden panic.
She curtsied to him almost despite herself, and then made haste to depart with Carmagnola and her brother. But there was a weight of lead in her breast. If action against Theodore depended upon this man's counsel, what hope remained? She put that question to Carmagnola. He quieted her fears.
'After all, he is not omnipotent. Our fealty is not to him, but to the Duchess Beatrice. Win her to your side, and things will shape the course you desire, especially if I command the enterprise.'
And meanwhile this man whom she mistrusted was closeted with the Duke, and the Duke was informing him of this new factor in their plans against Montferrat.
'She desires us to break a lance in her brother's behalf. But Montferrat is loyal to Theodore. They have no opinion there of Gian Giacomo, and to impose by force of arms a prince upon a people is perhaps to render that people hostile to ourselves.'
'If that were so, and I confess that I do not share your potency's apprehensions, it would still be the course I should presume to advise. In Theodore you have a neighbour whom ambition makes dangerous. In Gian Giacomo you have a mild and gentle youth, whose thoughts, since his conversion from debauchery, turn rather to religion than to deeds of arms. Place him upon the throne of his fathers, and you have in such a man not only a friendly neighbour but a grateful servant.'
'Ha! You believe in gratitude, Bellarion?'
'I must, since I practise it.'
There followed that night a council of the captains, and since they were still nominally regarded as in the service of Facino's widow, the Duchess herself attended it, and since the fortunes of the legitimate ruler of Montferrat was one of the issues, the Marquis Gian Giacomo and his sister were also invited to be present.
The Duke, at the head of the long table, with the Duchess on his right and Bellarion on his left, made known the intention to declare war immediately upon the Regent of Montferrat upon two grounds: his occupation of the Milanese stronghold and lands of Vercelli, and his usurpation of the regency beyond the Marquis Gian Giacomo's attainment of full age. Of his captains now he desired an account of the means at their disposal, and afterwards a decision of those to be employed in the undertaking.
Carmagnola came prepared with a computation of the probable forces which Theodore could levy; and they were considerable; not less than five thousand men. The necessary force to deal with him was next debated, having regard also to certain other enterprises to which Milan was elsewhere committed. At length this was fixed by Bellarion. It was to consist of the Germans under Koenigshofen, Stoffel's Swiss, Giasone Trotta's Italian mercenaries, and Marsilio's condotta, amounting in all to some seven thousand men. That would leave free for other eventualities the condottas of Valperga and of Carmagnola with whom were Ercole Belluno and Ugolino da Tenda.
Against this, and on the plea that the Duke might require the services of the Prince of Valsassina at home, Carmagnola begged that the enterprise against Montferrat should be confided to his leadership, his own condotta taking the place of Bellarion's, but all else remaining as Bellarion disposed.
The Duke, showing in his pale face no sign of his surprise at this request, looked from Carmagnola to Bellarion, appearing to ponder, what time the Princess Valeria held her breath.
At length the Duke spoke. 'Have you anything to say to that, Valsassina?'
'Nothing if your highness is content. You will remember that Theodore of Montferrat is one of the most skilful captains of the day, and if this business is not to drag on unduly, indeed if it is to be brought to a successful issue, you would do well to send against him of your best.'
A sly smile broke upon that sinisterly placid countenance.
'By which you mean yourself.'
'For my part,' said Koenigshofen, 'I do not willingly march under another.'
'And for mine,' said Stoffel, 'whilst Bellarion lives I do not march under another at all.'
The Duke looked at Carmagnola. 'You hear, sir?'
Carmagnola flushed uncomfortably. 'I had set my heart upon the enterprise, Lord Duke.'
The Princess Valeria interposed. 'By your leave, highness; does my vote count for anything in this matter?'
'Assuredly, madonna. Your own and your brother's.'
'Then, Lord Duke, my vote, indeed my prayer, is that my Lord of Carmagnola be given the command.'
The Duchess raised her long eyes to look at her in wonder.
Bellarion sat inscrutable.
The request wounded without surprising him. He knew her unconquerable mistrust of him. He had hoped in the end which was now approaching to prove to her its cruel injustice. But if occasion for that were denied him, it would be no great matter. What signified was that her own aims should be accomplished, and, after all, they were not beyond the strength and skill of Carmagnola, who had his talents as a leader when all was said.
The Duke's lack-lustre eyes were steadily upon Valeria. He spoke after a pause.
'Almost you imply a doubt of the Prince of Valsassina's capacity.'
'Not of his capacity. Oh, not of that!'
'Of what, then?'
The question troubled her. She looked at her brother, and her brother answered for her.
'My sister remembers that the Prince of Valsassina was once the Marquis Theodore's friend.'
'Was he so? When was that?' The Duke looked at Bellarion, but it was Gian Giacomo who answered the question.
'When, in alliance with him, he placed him in possession of Vercelli and Genoa.'
'The alliance was the Lord Facino's, not Valsassina's. Bellarion served under him. But so also did Carmagnola. Where is the difference between them?'
'My Lord of Carmagnola acted then with a view to my brother's ultimate service,' the Princess answered. 'If he was a party to the Marquis Theodore's occupation of Vercelli, it was only so that in that act the Marquis might provide a cause for the action that is now proposed against him by the Duke of Milan.'
Bellarion laughed softly at the light he suddenly perceived.
'Do you mock that statement, sir?' Carmagnola challenged him. 'Do you dare to say what was in my mind at the time?'
'I have honoured you for directness, Carmagnola. But it seems you can be subtle too.'
'Subtle!' Carmagnola flushed indignantly. 'In what have I been subtle?'
'In the spirit in which you favoured Theodore's occupation of Vercelli,' said Bellarion, and so left him gaping foolishly. 'What else did you think I had in mind?' He smiled almost ingenuously into the other's face.
The Duke rapped the table. 'Sirs, sirs! We wander. And there is this matter to resolve.'
Bellarion answered him.
'Here, then, is a solution your highness may be disposed to adopt. Instead of Valperga and his troops, I take with me Carmagnola and his own condotta which is of a similar strength, and, like Valperga's, mainly horse. Thus we march together, and share the enterprise.'
'But unless Bellarion commands it, Lord Duke, your highness will graciously consider sending another condotta in the place of mine,' said Koenigshofen, and Stoffel was about to add his own voice to that, when the Duke losing patience broke in.
'Peace! Peace! I am Duke of Milan, and I give orders here. You are summoned to advise, not to browbeat me and say what you will and will not do. Let it be done as Valsassina says, since Carmagnola has set his heart upon being in the campaign. But Valsassina leads the enterprise. The matter is closed on that. You have leave to go.'