devilstone chronicles 01 - devils band (30 page)

The tent’s interior would have delighted the most fastidious of Turkish sultans. There were soft, intricately woven carpets on the floor and curtains of embroidered silk lined the walls. Between the comfortable divans of gilded wood strewn with silken cushions, were low tables upon which had been placed silver platters piled high with sweetmeats, sherbets and jugs of wine. Braziers full of hot coals warmed the chill night air whilst bowls of rosewater banished the noisome odours of the camp.

Everything had been designed to convince noble customers that they’d entered an oriental harem but at the far end of the chamber stood two incongruous Greek columns with a curtain of purple silk hanging between them. In the soft candlelight, these pillars looked as if they’d been carved from marble but they were nothing more than wood and plaster. The columns would play a central role in the evening’s entertainment but they also marked the spot where Thomas and the others had buried the iron bound strongbox that contained the proceeds of their debauchery.

Once Montmorency and Lescun had been relieved of their cloaks they were made welcome by Quintana and Thomas, who were also dressed in the turbans and flowing robes of the east. They invited the noblemen to recline on the divans and help themselves to the refreshments on the tables whilst Nagel, seated cross-legged on a pile of cushions, played soft music on a Turkish
shawm
. When their guests had made themselves comfortable, Quintana clapped his hands and Thomas opened the curtain between the columns to reveal a
tableau vivant
celebrating feminine beauty.

The four girls, fancifully dressed as Turkish
odalisques
, were standing as still as statues and their guests applauded loudly in appreciation of their elegant poses and revealing costumes. Each girl wore a low cut chemise made of coloured silk embroidered with gold thread. These tight fitting blouses were worn above voluminous pantaloons made of gossamer. The thin gauze revealed tantalising glimpses of the girls’ smooth and shapely legs, however their heads and faces were covered by tall headdresses and long veils that left only their lustrous eyes showing.

To complete the illusion that their guests were privileged visitors to the sultan’s harem, the girls wore silk sashes around their waists, Turkish slippers on their feet and a glittering array of gold bangles and silver bracelets adorned their wrists.

“For your pleasure, your beautiful companions will perform the ancient
Dance of the Seven Gates
, the dance that beguiled Belshazzar at his feast and which Salome performed to ensnare Herod,” Quintana announced.

“The dance tells the story of Ishtar, the Babylonian Goddess of Love, and her search in the Realm of Shades for her dead lover Tammuz” added Thomas. “To the enter the underworld, Ishtar had to pass through seven gates and at each gate the Guardians of the Dead demanded she remove an item of clothing, for it is it written that naked we must enter the world and naked we must leave it.”

Quintana clapped his hands again and Nagel began to play a haunting melody that seemed to swirl around the tent like smoke from burning incense. As the music played the girls began to dance, slowly at first, twisting their arms and legs and arching their backs into shapes that accentuated their female curves. Montmorency and Lescun watched with open mouths as the girls writhed with sensual delight and as each girl twirled through the Greek pillars she removed part of her clothing.

The first time through the gate, the girls removed their headdresses and let their long black hair tumble down their necks and shoulders, though they kept their faces veiled. The second time they removed their bangles, letting them fall to the floor in a tinkling cascade of gilded metal. At the third passing they kicked off their slippers, at the fourth they took off their veils and at the fifth they stripped the sashes from their waists to reveal the sensuous curves of their hips. Now the girls wore only their chemises and pantaloons.

Still they danced, letting their distinguished audience stroke every inch of their bodies with their eyes. The men were almost helpless with desire when the girls passed through the portico for a sixth time and removed
their chemises to reveal breasts as round and as luscious as ripe peaches. The music’s tempo became quicker and the dancing more furious as the girls spun and gyrated around the chamber causing their guests to whimper in anticipation.

“The seventh gate, for heaven’s sake pass through the seventh gate before we die of unsated lust!” Montmorency croaked. The girls were dancing with such furious abandon, sweat poured between their breasts as they passed through the portal for the last time. As the music reached a crescendo, the girls tore off their pantaloons and at the sight of their completely naked bodies Montmorency and Lescun leapt from their divans. With a great cry of victory, the two nobles disappeared under a forest of nubile female limbs. Thomas, Quintana and Nagel bowed low and withdrew to let their guests take their pleasure in private.

“De la Pole doesn’t know what he’s missing,” chuckled Quintana.

“Then let us hope that they’ll tell him,” said Thomas counting out the ten golden
livres
that their guests had paid for their entertainment.

The three men joined Prometheus and Bos in a tactical retreat to their private quarters where they remained for several hours. In spite of their prodigious consumption of wine, both Montmorency and Lescun proved equal to their reputations and by the time they took their leave the girls were exhausted. They pleaded to be allowed to rest but Thomas and the others could not wait to learn if their guests had revealed de la Pole’ secret.

“Please, Master Thomas, let us sleep. Your questions plague us like the sixty diseases suffered by Ishtar in The Underworld,” yawned Ulla.

“All we need to know is why is the White Rose living like St Anthony the Hermit, surely one of them said something?” insisted Thomas. Eventually Magda remembered that Lescun had mentioned something about their fellow marshal getting more than his linen washed by one of the camp laundresses called Caterina. The girls swore that was all they’d learned and retired to bed.

The would-be assassins were relieved de la Pole hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy, or succumbed to the Florentine vice, but if he was receiving female attention for the price of a clean shirt he’d be unlikely to visit their expensive house of entertainment. Had Catarina’s lover been an ordinary man it would have been a simple matter to make the girl vanish. No one would miss a humble laundress but the suspicious de la Pole would be at the very least alarmed by her disappearance and be put on his guard. At worst he would order his men to scour the camp for her.

A detailed search of every tent was the last thing the conspirators needed so Thomas proposed they paid the girl to break off the affair and leave camp. Quintana dismissed the Englishman’s idea arguing they could hardly outbid a prince for the girl’s affections. Nagel suggested an anonymous letter to the camp provost, accusing the laundress of being an imperial spy, would soon part her from the White Rose but Bos was appalled. The Frisian insisted committing such a sin would not only condemn an innocent girl to a shameful death, it would bring the wrath
of God upon them. The debate continued for almost an hour before Prometheus offered a viable solution to their problem.

“This girl might leave camp if she was convinced that her love was doomed,” he said thoughtfully.

“And what would make her think that?” replied Nagel.

“Have Thomas tell her fortune,” replied Prometheus.

“More magic and superstition, is sorcery any less of a sin than bearing false witness?” said Bos angrily but Thomas quickly grasped the possibilities of the Nubian’s idea.

“There’ll be no sorcery just a little innocent deception. A parchment with a few signs and symbols drawn on it should be enough to convince an illiterate peasant girl she must cease her sinful fornication and flee for her life,” he said excitedly. Quintana also warmed to the scheme and as Bos could offer no better alternative they agreed that Thomas should seek the girl out as soon as the sun was up.

A few hours later Thomas, dressed in his Turkish robes and with a folded piece of parchment hidden in his sash, went in search of de la Pole’s laundress. He found her with the other washerwomen, standing in a tub of water, holding her skirts above her knees and trampling dirty breeches and undershirts beneath her dainty feet. She sang happily as she worked and she didn’t notice Thomas approach so he watched the girl appreciatively for a moment. She was tall and slender, with wild auburn hair and a pretty face that had yet to be turned florid by her life of drudgery.

“Greetings, My Lady,” said Thomas bowing low. The girl looked up and screamed.

“A Turk!” she shrieked. A few of the other washerwomen also looked up from their labours but they merely laughed when the saw that the ‘Turk’ was one of the exotic whoremongers who’d become well known throughout the camp.

“Don’t you fret Caterina dear, he’s probably come to offer you a more enjoyable way to make money from a man’s codpiece!” shouted one of the women.

“What do you want?” said Caterina eyeing her visitor suspiciously. Thomas apologised for startling the girl and quickly told her that he was the seventh son of a seventh son, a man born with the gift of seeing the future in the stars but he was deeply troubled.

“Last night I saw something in the House of Venus that indicated you’re in grave danger but clouds covered the heavens before I could divine the proper meaning of my vision. Is there somewhere more private where we can discuss what I saw?” said Thomas urgently. The girl looked shocked but she climbed out of her washtub and thrust her soaking feet into a pair of wooden clogs.

“There is a sutler’s tent nearby, it’ll be quiet at this time of day, we can talk there,” she said nervously. Thomas followed the girl along a muddy path that threaded its way through the laundresses’ tents. After a few minutes they arrived at a grubby kiosk, which smelled strongly of wet grass and stale beer. They seated themselves at a crude trestle table and Thomas ordered two tankards of mulled cider from the one-legged sutler.

“You say you’ve seen something about me in the stars, for god’s sake what is it?” said the girl in hoarse whisper.
Thomas held up a finger for silence, reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. He spread the paper on the table and explained that the series of concentric circles he’d drawn represented different people in Catarina’s life whilst the mystical symbols revealed what part those people would play in her future. Thomas sincerely doubted that the girl could read, let alone understand the arcane language of astrology, so he’d drawn the chart to look impressive rather than reveal any occult truth. It didn’t matter that the signs were meaningless, Thomas was confident he could invent any meaning he required whatever the girl said in answer to his questions.

“You were born under the sign of the water carrier?” he said, pointing to the astrological sign that best represented the girl’s current employment.

“No, I’m a Sagittarius,” said the puzzled girl but her astrologer seemed to be delighted by his error. He jabbed his finger at the crossed arrow sign for ‘The Archer’ and gave a cry of triumph.

“Ah the centaur who was skilled with the bow! At first I could not make sense of the riddle but now I see what the stars were trying to tell me … and it’s just as I feared. Your destiny is to be ruled by an arrow, that is Cupid’s arrow. You see that the arrow in the sign of Sagittarius is pointed directly at the sign for the lion. Forgive me for being indelicate, but to those skilled in reading these signs this indicates that you’ve taken a high born nobleman as a lover, is that true?” he said.

“How could you know that?” gasped Caterina. “Richard told me to tell no one!”

“Those who are highest see furthest so from the vantage point of the heavens all things are visible. All our actions past, present and future, are known to the stars but I see that Fate has not blessed your love for this noble lord. If you stay with him you’ll die within the week. Your only chance is to hasten to a nunnery and do penance for your sin of fornication with this man,” said Thomas clasping his hands as if in prayer.

“You must be mistaken, is there no other way?” Caterina whimpered.

“There’s no mistake. The symbol for Ophiuchus the serpent bearer reveals that the deceiving demon Asphodel is abroad and he’s searching for the souls of sinners to take back to Him who reigns over The Inferno. You must therefore leave this camp this very day or suffer a terrible death,” repeated Thomas sternly.

“I will, but I must go to Richard and warn him,” sobbed the girl.

“Don’t go in person, send word that you’ve repented your sins and joined the Dominican Sisters in their House of Holy Grace but mention no word of our meeting. Speak only of your repentance and your hope that your sacrifice will cleanse both your souls. If you don’t do exactly as I say, the next time you see your lover will be in Hell!” said Thomas firmly, whereupon the girl screamed and ran from the tent as fast as her long legs could carry her. The sutler watched her go and was about to box the Turk’s ears for upsetting his customers but Thomas tossed a gold florin onto the table before sweeping from the tent with a flourish of his long cloak. The sutler shrugged and pocketed the coin.

“You’re too late,” said Bos glumly when Thomas announced his success to the others. “Whilst you were playing fast and loose with poor ignorant washerwomen, we’ve had news. The army has been ordered to march on Pavia.”

“Pavia? But I thought Bourbon was at Lodi?” Thomas asked.

“That’s as may be but all we know is that we must break camp and move to Pavia at once,” said Prometheus with a shrug.

17

PAVIA

A
thousand years ago, Pavia had been the capital of the barbarian Lombard Kingdom but its capture by Charlemagne, the first Holy Roman Emperor, had brought the whole of Lombardy under Frankish rule. Long a centre for art and learning, the city had been ruled by a succession of French kings, German emperors and Italian princes, but over the centuries Pavia’s wealth and power had been slowly eclipsed by that of nearby Milan. Nevertheless the accession of Charles V, the Hapsburg King of Spain, to the thrones of Germany and Italy had returned Pavia to its previous importance.