THE BLACK KNIGHT AND THE ROSE
A.D. 1386. Innocent of Lady Marguerite de Thibouville's accusation of the hideous crime of rape, French knight Jacques Le Gris doesn't want to face her angry husband Jean De Carrouges in a trial by combat, a duel that should determine, by God's judgement, who's telling the truth. Jean has been his best friend, Jacques owes him his life and vice versa more times that he cares to count, and has even been his eldest son's godfather. For all these reasons, Jacques doesn't want to kill Jean to prove his innocence, which would also mean that Marguerite would burn on the stake because convicted of perjury. Despite her lies, Jacques doesn't want to be responsible of her death. Of course, there's the chance that Jean kills Jacques, and he's not willing to die because of a false accusation. Jacques' only option is therefore to go on the run, even if this means being considered a coward and guilty anyway. As King Charles VI of France had been very reluctant to allow the judicial duel, Jacques thinks that, perhaps, if he takes the flight leaving behind a note explaining his reasons, the sovereign will understand and possibly agree with his act, if not pardon it.
Taking all of his money and easily transportable values, Jacques secretly leaves France and moves to the Republic of Venice, where he plans to offer his services to an old acquaintance of his, Count Galeotto Malatesta of Valdastico...
Warning: I am no Medieval scholar and I don't claim to be historically perfectly accurate. Three things I consciously chose to change: Jacques being already a knight (it would have been too complicated to explain during the narration how he was knighted only to face the duel, as not to incur in status differences between the two fighters); Jacques' age from 56 to 35; and Valdastico being already with the Republic of Venice (it would be just a couple of decades later). Everything else is attributable to my ignorance despite my many researches, and I hope you will graciously forgive them, or give me the right information. Either way, thank you!
Chapter I: Into the Lion's Den
Jacques Le Gris paused at the crest of the hill, his eyes sweeping over the landscape he had once called home. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders, a burden he had never imagined he would bear. He knew that, by fleeing, he wasleaving behind not only his homeland and possessions, but also his honour – at least in the eyes of those who would never understand the truth. Besides, if he was caught, he would be hanged for defying the king's direct order to stay.
What choice did I have? he mused silently to himself, his chest clenching in pain. To stay would mean facing Jean in a fight to the death, a duel neither of us should have to fight. How could I raise my sword against a man who has been more than a brother to me?
The thought of Jean's anguished face haunted him, but the alternative was unthinkable. Killing Jean would not only break his heart but also condemn an innocent – or at least misguided – woman to a fiery end, burnt alive on a stake under the accusation of lying under oath. A slow, painful death that Jacques wasn't willing to have on his conscience. He had loved her, and still cared for her despite her false accusation.
But there was even more: she was pregnant with a child that could be his. She fiercely claimed it was Jean's, but six years marriage had produced no offspring, and then, after just once Jacques had lay with her, she was with child. The timing was suspicious, to say the least. Marguerite's pregnancy was another reason to refuse the duel: if Jacques would win, the child would be orphaned of both parents, regardless who had sired him.
As he tightened the reins and nudged his horse forward, Jacques whispered a silent prayer that the king would read his letter with a discerning eye, so that perhaps, one day, the truth might be unveiled. But until then, if that would indeed ever happen, Jacques had to survive. Valdastico – a rich estate in the Republic of Venice – awaited him, a place of new possibilities, but also new dangers. He would offer his sword to the Malatesta family and protect the vineyards and the count who ruled them.
Jacques and Galeotto Malatesta had met by chance ten years ago, when the Count of Valdastico was travelling to France looking for new markets for the excellent Prosecco wine he produced in his estate, and perhaps to pick up new cultivation techniques, if there were any. Jacques was coming back from a trip abroad on behalf of King Charles and was staying overnight at an inn in Bregenz, on the Lake of Constance. Galeotto too had stopped there; the two men met at dinner, as they were sitting at the same table. They bonded right away, finding each other's company pleasant and interesting despite the age difference, as they could have been father and son – or perhaps exactly because of this, as Galeotto had only a daughter and Jacques was orphan of both his parents. When Jacques learned that Venetian count was heading to the French region of Champagne, he offered to accompany him, as it was almost exactly on his way to Paris, where he was due to report to King Charles about his trip. Galeotto accepted gladly, and so the two had travelled together, along with the count's escort of armigers and the three wagons full of barrels of his wine. This detail had slowed down Jacques own journey, but he was in no particular hurry, as his task hadn't been one of urgency but just routine.
A smirk tugged at Jacques' lips despite everything as he fondly recalled the days and nights with Galeotto Malatesta. They had fun at the taverns and inns while travelling, as the count was a man who enjoyed life and very much appreciated good food and drink, music and dance. However, being a devoted husband, he had never indulged in female company, unlike Jacques, who was an attractive young man and had never trouble in finding willing wenches to warm his bed.
When they had parted ways, three weeks after their encounter, Galeotto had expressed the wish to stay in touch, especially because he planned to come back to France in the future, and Jacques had accepted gladly. In the following years, they had occasionally exchanged letters.
Galeotto had actually come back to France twice, and each time, Jacques went to meet him. They had spent time together, becoming closer, and once, they had even fought together, when a group of bandits had tried to assail Malatesta's wagons despite the armigers escorting them. The incident deepened their bond to a true and heartfelt friendship, the Venetian count almost a fatherly figure for the French knight.
The incident though had convinced Galeotto that he was starting to be too old for these long and challenging journeys; hence, he decided this would be the last trip to France. He had invited Jacques to come and visit him in Valdastico, if ever the knight would chance to journey to the Republic of Venice. Jacques had accepted his invitation, although he thought it very unlikely that he would ever venture there – but here he was now, five years later, heading exactly there.
Emerging from his reverie, Jacques returned to the present. He heaved a sigh: perhaps, in the service of Galeotto Malatesta, he might find some semblance of redemption, or at the very least, a purpose that would ease the turmoil within his soul.
Forgive me, Jean, Jacques thought as the wind carried him further from France and into the unknown. May we never meet on the field of battle, for I fear the cost would be too great for us both.
With this last thought, Jacques urged on his horse – a Friesian of a rare white colour called Vaillant – and started to go downhill.
OOO
The journey to Valdastico was arduous, but Jacques pressed on with a determination fuelled by necessity and the constant reminder of what he had left behind. Each mile that passed only deepened his resolve, though the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at him like a persistent shadow. His thoughts were a tumultuous sea, memories of France and Jean De Carrouges mixing with the anticipation of what awaited him in the Republic of Venice. Jacques couldn't help but feel as if he was walking into the lion's den – the winged Lion of St. Mark being Venice's banner – because he had actually no idea of what lay ahead of him there. A new beginning or his end?
Whenever he could, Jacques travelled in company, mostly pilgrims or traders; he was aware that alone, despite his intimidating appearance as a seasoned warrior, he could be easily targeted by highwaymen or stray companies of mercenaries.
The further he travelled, the more Jacques tried to quiet the storm within, focusing instead on the path that would lead him to Count Galeotto Malatesta, the only man in the world he still believed might offer him refuge.
At last, after almost three weeks of travel, one day on the second half of August Jacques finally reached the city of Bassano, the last stop before his final destination. He looked for an inn to stay overnight, where he cleaned himself as best as he could from the dirt of the long trip, and even carefully trimmed his goatee, as to make himself presentable to the nobleman he was going to offer his services the next day.
In the morning, Jacques rose early and, after satisfactorily breaking his fast, he took to the last leg of his journey. With only a brief halt to munch at the bread and cheese he had purchased at the inn, by mid-afternoon he came into view of Valdastico and its compact, but formidable-looking fortress.
Malatesta Castle rose on a hillock, not far from the river Astico which gave the name to both the town and the valley – Valle dell'Astico, contracted to Valdastico – in the middle of a beautiful rolling countryside covered with vineyards and wheat fields; the westering sun bathed everything in a golden glow.
Following the well kept road, the French knight spurred Vaillant to a light trot and reached the small town.
Armigers stood on the battlements, keeping watch, but no one demanded him to stop; hence, Jacques entered Valdastico, slowing down his horse to an easy walk. The streets were bustling with peasants, as it was market day, which Jacques would soon learn happened twice a week. As he made his way to the castle's entrance, many openly stared at him, looking mostly curious or surprised, a bit wary perhaps but not unfriendly or unwelcoming.
When Jacques arrived at the castle's gates though, the two armigers on guard duty crossed their halberds to prevent him entering.
"Stop, please", one of them said aloud, speaking in Venetian, his words clipped but not hostile. "Who are you, and what business brings you to Malatesta Castle?"
"My name is Jacques Le Gris", the French knight answered in the same language, as he mastered it quite well. "I am here at the invitation of Count Galeotto Malatesta, whom I met several years ago in France. I request an audience with him."
He didn't see any need to give a false name so far away from his homeland; besides, Galeotto would recognise his name and see him directly.
The guard frowned. "I'm sorry, my lord", he said. "Count Galeotto has passed away two years ago. Now his daughter, Countess Alisa, rules the fief."
The news sent a shock through Jacques' weary bones, as it was unexpected and left him momentarily adrift, his plans once again thrown into disarray. Not to speak about the pang of sorrow he felt in his heart hearing the sad news.
Still, there was no turning back now. He had come too far to retreat. With a deep breath, Jacques asked: "'Tis possible to see the countess, then?"
"I will send word to her", the guard promised. "Please wait here until her answer comes."
Jacques nodded and led his horse to the side as not to stay in the way, should someone need to enter the castle.
OOO
Lady Alisa Malatesta's work chamber was a small, but well-appointed room, lined with shelves filled with books and ledgers.
The Countess of Valdastico was fighting over numbers. As much as she was an accomplished businesswoman, learned in several fields and brilliant with languages, she was quite bad at accounting. To put it bluntly, she deeply hated thispart of her duty as the ruler of one of the richest fiefs in the Republic of Venice, which produced the best Prosecco wine in the whole land and beyond. Long wagon trains loaded with barrels travelled from Valdastico to many towns throughout northern Italy, from the nearby Vicenza, to Padua, Verona, Venice, even Trieste and Milan, and southwards to Carrara, Ravenna, Mantua, even Florence.
Travelling had always been a dangerous affair, but right now, it had worsened because of the ongoing conflict between Padua and Verona, which were independent seignories, ruled respectively by the Carrara and the Della Scala families. For this reason, Alisa had reinforced the armed escort for her caravans, but recently, the one heading for Padua had been assaulted by Verona troops, and despite the valiant defence of her armigers and their experienced captain, the load had been stolen and the whole escort butchered. Two of the wagon drivers had barely survived and had returned home with the dire news just one week ago. Alisa was now faced with the need of hiring new warriors, and a qualified captain to train and lead them. And these stupid numbers kept not adding up!
Frustrated, she speared the long white quill into the ink bottle, which almost topped over, and leaned back into the large upholstered leather armchair with an exasperated sigh.
A knock at the door acted as a welcome distraction. "Come on in!" she invited.
Her steward Stefano stepped into the room. "Countess, a stranger is requesting an audience. He claims he is an acquaintance of your late father Galeotto. His name is Jacques Le Gris."
At Stefano's words, Alisa furrowed her brow: the name was actually known to her. Galeotto had met this man, a fearless knight, when he had been in France on business, and then again on other journeys there. Galeotto had spoken fondly of Le Gris, praising his prowess as a fighter and his skills as an accountant, and had made jokes about him being quite a lady's man.
The crease on Alisa's brow deepened: she didn't like the second part of Le Gris' reputation, at all, but the first two things came right on cue. And anyway, giving him a glance could bring no harm.
"Fine", she said therefore, shuffling her armchair so it faced the door. "I will see him at once."
OOO
A middle-aged, well-dressed manservant came and signalled Jacques to follow him. The knight felt relieved: he hadn't realised that he had been afraid that the countess wouldn't receive him, a perfect stranger. He drew a deep breath and dismounted, then approached the gates, leading Valliant by the bridle. The manservant eyed him warily, but soon softened, as if he the knight's demeanour and the insignia he carried from his past service satisfied him.
"I am Stefano, Lady Alisa's steward", the servant introduced himself. "You can trust your horse to Lello."
A young stable groom had walked up to them; Jacques gave him Valliant's bridles, and then followed Stefano, who led him through the winding corridors of the castle.
They stopped in front of a door of polished oak wood. The steward knocked at it and, after hearing his mistress' invitation, opened it, revealing a woman unlike any Jacques had ever seen.
Countess Alisa Malatesta stood tall, her posture regal, and there was an unmistakable strength in the way she carried herself, a fierceness that belied her elegant appearance. She could be in her late twenties, Jacques mused; her long dark hair was pulled back, accentuating the sharp lines of her face, and her brown eyes, keen and intelligent, assessed him with a scrutiny that Jacques found both unsettling and strangely comforting. This was no idle noblewoman; this was a leader, one who had clearly earned her place and the respect of those around her.
Alisa had risen from her armchair to welcome the unexpected guest. A very tall, good-looking, broad-shouldered, dark-haired man in his middle-thirties had stepped into the chamber, fashionably dressed in black from head to toe. He stood as if frozen for a moment, then he bowed with a flourish.
"My lady," Jacques began, speaking in Venetian, his voice steady despite the apprehension bubbling within him. "I am Jacques Le Gris, once a knight of France. I met your father ten years ago and we travelled together for many days, and then two more times when he came back to France. We became good friends and, when we parted last time, he invited me to Valdastico. I am deeply saddened to learn he has passed away."
His good knowledge of the Venetian language impressed Alisa far more than the undeniable allure he was trying to use to charm her. "I bid you welcome, Sir Jacques", she answered in fluent French, one of the several tongues she mastered. "Thank you for your sympathy, I appreciate it. My late father told me about you in quite great detail, although I admit that not everything he said was complimentary. However, I will try not to be influenced and judge by myself."
He slightly bowed once more to thank her as she scrutinised him for several seconds with an intense gaze. "What brings you here, Sir Jacques?" she asked bluntly.
Jacques straightened slightly, meeting Countess Alisa's piercing gaze with a steady one of his own. He could feel the weight of her scrutiny, the sharpness in her eyes speaking of a mind that missed nothing. This was not a woman easily swayedby charm or flattery, and Jacques quickly abandoned any thought of relying on such tactics. He needed to be forthright, to earn her trust through honesty and competence. This was a woman who didn't like wasting her time, who liked being frank and appreciated to be returned with as much frankness. Thus, he decided to be direct and tell her straightforward. "I have come to offer my services to your house, if you would have me."
Alisa arched her eyebrows, not hiding her surprise at his words. "What kind of service, exactly?" she asked. "And would you be ready to accept orders from a woman?"
Again, she had spoken in a plain, very business-like manner. It wasn't rudeness, just a no-nonsense attitude that he usually didn't associate with the softer sex. But then again, this was no usual woman.
"My lady," Jacques began, his voice firm yet respectful. "I am indeed ready to accept orders from a woman, particularly one as capable and formidable as you clearly are. I have seen enough in my life to understand that strength and leadership do not belong to one gender alone. You are a ruler and a businesswoman, and it is clear to me that you are more than worthy of the respect and loyalty of those who serve you."
He paused, allowing his words to settle, before continuing with a slight shift in his tone, more personal and earnest. "As for why I offer my services to you, the truth is not one easily told, but I will share it with you nonetheless, for I believe that honesty is the foundation of any true alliance."
Jacques took a breath, steadying himself, and started to speak. His tone was soft and clearly troubled, revealing the pain he felt. "I left France under difficult circumstances, as I mentioned. A false accusation was made against me – an accusation of a most serious nature, involving the honour of a lady and the death of a man I once called a friend and a brother. This accusation has forced me to flee, for staying would have meant facing a trial by combat against a man I do not wish to harm, and a woman's life would hang in the balance, unjustly condemned if I were to win. I could not bear the thought of such an outcome, nor could I risk my own life on a matter of falsehood."
He saw a flicker of sympathy in Alisa's eyes, and he pressed on. "I came here to Valdastico because I remembered the kindness and respect your father showed me, and I hoped that in serving his house, I might find a way to clear my name and regain my honour. But more than that, my lady, I seek a purpose. In France, my life had lost its meaning, and I was adrift. Here, I see the chance to start anew, to serve a worthy cause and protect those who are in need of protection. If your household faces threats, I believe I can help you overcome them."
Jacques hesitated and lowered his gaze momentarily, as if in contemplation, before lifting it again to meet Alisa's. "I offer you my sword, my skills, and my loyalty. I know I have much to prove, but if you give me the chance, I will show you that I am a man of my word. I will defend your lands, your people, and you, my lady, with all that I am."
Silence filled the room as Jacques finished speaking, the air thick with the weight of his words. He could see that Alisa was still assessing him, her mind working through everything he had said, balancing the risks and benefits of accepting him into her service. He remained still, waiting for her judgment, knowing that whatever decision she made would shape the course of his life from this moment forward.
Alisa had listened intently to each word, taking in every nuance in Jacques' voice, her eyes noticing every glimmer of emotion on his face. She had appreciated his respectful tone and bearing, as well as his declaration about her worth as a rulerregardless of her gender.
Hearing his tone, she immediately sensed his honesty, realising how difficult it was for him sharing his tale with her, an unfamiliar person, and that he was doing it in order to lay the groundwork for a relationship of trust between them. This was the one thing that pleased her most.
Besides, Alisa liked the way Jacques spoke about this lady and her husband, not openly mentioning the nature of the accusations and keeping their names to himself. It showed his fondness and esteem for both of them, as well as how sad and bitter he was about the situation. That he didn't want to harm his ex friend and the latter's wife spoke volumes about his affection for them, as well as his sense of honour. Jacques may have been a libertine, as Galeotto had depicted him, but from his words, it appeared that he was unhappy with his former life and wanted a significant change into something meaningful and worthy.
His show of courtesy in delivering his speech in excellent Venetian, despite her addressing him in his native French language, added to her all-in-all favourable impression of this man.
"Very well, Sir Jacques", Alisa said at length, as well in Venetian. "I won't press further to have the details of what is clearly a painful subject for you, leaving it up to you to share them with me if and when you think it appropriate, except if need should arise for me to know about them."
She gestured to Stefano, who had been waiting for orders standing next to the door, to bring a chair for her guest, and seated herself back into her seat. The steward promptly complied, then withdrew again to his place.
"Please, take a seat", Alisa invited the Frenchman, who thanked her with a polite nod before seating himself across her. "I will give you the chance you seek, Sir Jacques", Alisa went on, her voice concise. "However, as you said, you have much to prove. For once, I dislike your reputation as a ladies' man. Venetian women are much freer than in other countries, but this doesn't mean that men can disrespect them in any way. Hence beware: should you harass any of my female subjects – or male ones, as for this – I will kick you out without a second thought. Have I made myself clear?"
Jacques couldn't help but allow a small, charming smirk to curl at the corner of his lips as Alisa's stern words about his reputation echoed in the room. He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he met her gaze with amix of sincerity and a hint of playful humour.
"Absolutely crystal clear, my lady", he said with no hesitation, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the seriousness of the moment. "I must confess that my reputation as a ladies' man, while not entirely unfounded, is mayhap a bit exaggerated. 'Tis true that I have had my share of admirers, but I assure you, I have never been one to aggressively pursue or harass women. If anything, it seems the pursuit has often come from the other side, much to my occasional surprise and sometimes, I admit, my regret."
His smirk faded, replaced by a more earnest expression as he continued. "However, I want to make it abundantly clear that I did not come here to repeat the mistakes of my past. I am not seeking to make new acquaintances or to engage in any romantic entanglements. In truth, if it were up to me, I would avoid such distractions for a very long time – mayhap indefinitely. My purpose here is to forget, to move on, and to find meaning in something more substantial than fleeting affections. You have my word, Countess: my focus will be solely on the duties you will entrust to me."
Jacques saw a flicker of understanding in Alisa's eyes, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had meant every word, and he hoped she could see that his intentions were sincere.
Alisa was pleased that Jacques hadn't even flinched at her quite hard tone, promptly accepting her demand. This meant he was truly willing to change, she thought. Her demeanour softened visibly as the shadow of a smile appeared on her lips, curving them slightly. "I am glad to learn that your reputation is exaggerated, Sir Jacques", she declared, bending her neck sideways a little, as if she wanted to look at him from a new angle. "My duty is to protect mysubjects from any type of harm, hence my warning, although now I know it was unnecessary. Whether you plan to have affairs or more earnest relationships is entirely up to you, and of course to the lady involved. As long as both parts are free and willing, I have nothing against it."
She paused, apparently pondering over something he had said. "A man stating that he regrets that a woman pursues him is highly unusual, so I guess that it has to do with the unnamed lady and her husband who forced you to leave France."
Alisa noticed he was startled and held up a hand. "No need to confirm or deny, Sir Jacques. As I said, I won't ask you for more details."
She noticed the way he relaxed again and, once more, she thought that the matter had to be truly painful for him. She felt a surge of compassion for him: it had to be very hard for him to keep at bay whatever demons were tormenting him.
"Well", she continued, back to business. "I actually need an experienced fighter to command my guards, as the former captain recently fell doing his duty, along with several of my armigers. The selection and training of new recruits is required as well. Furthermore, my father told me about your ability to work with numbers, hence there's also a second position for you: doing the accounting for my fief. Are you interested?"
The Countess of Valdastico looked straight into Jacques' face, as frank as he had been, and waited for his answer.
The knight returned her gaze with the same openness. "I would be honoured to take on the responsibilities you have outlined", he said, his tone shifting back to the practical and respectful. "I have always had a natural affinity for numbers – an ability that served me well in the past when managing estates and financial matters for other noble houses. The task of accounting, though it may seem mundane to some, is one that I approach with the same diligence and precision as I would a battle. After all, the prosperity of a fief depends as much on sound management as it does on the strength of its defences."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in before concluding with a slight bow of his head. "It would be my pleasure, Countess, to apply my skills both in leading your guards and in ensuring that your estates are managed to the highest standards. I understand the importance of both roles, and I will do my utmost to serve you faithfully in each capacity."
Jacques leaned back slightly, maintaining his steady gaze on Alisa, awaiting her response. He had laid his cards on the table, showing both his willingness to respect her boundaries and his eagerness to prove his worth in her service. Now, it was up to her to decide whether he would be given the chance to redeem himself and start anew under her command.
Alisa was very satisfied with the Frenchman's answer. She extended her right hand to him. "I will have a regular written contract for you as soon as possible, but for now, a handshake is enough to conclude our agreement."
Jacques straightened his back, his look a mix of amazement, relief and gratitude. "I will not disappoint you, my lady", he said, shaking her hand. He found her grip strong and firm, the grip of a person used to deal on equal terms with their interlocutors.
His respect for this unusual lady grew even more.
"You better not", Alisa smirked with an unexpected humorous tone that elicited a mirror smirk from Jacques. "Stefano", she then turned to her steward as she retrieved her hand from her new collaborator's grasp. "Please walk Sir Jacques to the chambers in the east tower", she ordered. "He's the new captain of the guard, as well as our chief accountant. He shall therefore have an according treatment."
The steward nodded as a sign that he had understood.
Alisa turned again to Jacques. "Whatever you need – food, drink, a bath, towels, more pillows – just ask Stefano. Tonight, you will have dinner with me in the grand hall and I will introduce you to the castle's staff. You can go now: make yourself comfortable and rest."
The interview was over, much to the satisfaction of both participants. Jacques rose and bowed respectfully, then he turned and left, following Stefano to the quarters Alisa had given him.
Alisa rose in turn and watched Jacques go. She had a good feeling about him, not only because of her late father's opinion but because of the sincerity she had sensed in him. He was truly seeking a fresh start and some sort of redemption, and she wished for him to succeed.
OOO
Jacques followed Stefano through the winding corridors of the castle, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. The conversation with Lady Alisa had gone better than he had hoped, and he was filled with a sense of cautious optimism. Her acceptance ofhis service, and her apparent understanding of the complexities of his past, left him feeling more at ease than he had in weeks, even months. Yet, there was still a lingering unease – remnants of the life he had left behind and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
Stefano led him to a spacious chamber in the east tower, furnished with dark wood and heavy tapestries that gave the room a sense of warmth and security. A large bed, draped in rich fabrics, dominated one side of the room, while a stone hearth promised crackling fires in the cold season.
"Thank you, Stefano," Jacques said, nodding to the steward. "This is more than I could have asked for."
Stefano inclined his head with a polite smile. "'Tis our pleasure, Sir Jacques. I will see that your luggage will be carried here at once. If you require anything else, do not hesitate to tell me now, or call for me later."
"Ah... Aye, there would be something, actually", Jacques declared. "Would it be possible to draw a bath for me?"
The steward nodded. "Of course, my lord. I will see to it immediately."
Jacques watched as the steward left, then, waiting for for both his luggage and the bath, he took advantage of the time to explore his quarters. The view from the window was breathtaking, the rolling hills of Valdastico bathed in the golden light of late summer. It was a peaceful countryside, a far cry from the tumultuous life he had left behind in France.
He then examined the furniture closer. It was well-built of solid wood, probably walnut judging by its colour; the large four-poster bed had a soft mattress and embroidered velvet covers, as well fine white linens and a tremendous amount of pillows; a chest stood by the foot end, while a two-door closet stood across it against the wall. There was also a small desk and a high-backed chair with a cushion.
Soon enough, a knock on the door drew Jacques' attention. "Come in", he offered
A young lad stepped inside, carrying Jacques' saddlebags, which held all of his belongings. He bowed to the knight. "Where do you want your baggage, my lord?" he asked shyly.
"On the chest", Jacques answered, already moving toward it. The lad complied and then bowed again before taking his leave.
Jacques had barely started to put away his stuff in the closet, when another knock came. He called to enter and two maids came in, one holding a pile of towels of different sizes and the other one a basket full of flasks. After them came two menservants with a deep copper bathtub. Four more followed, each carrying two buckets of water.
"Your bath, my lord", announced the maid with the basket, curtseying.
"I see", mumbled Jacques, watching the men moving efficiently, placing the tub next to the window and then starting to fill it with water.
When they finished, they bowed to the Frenchman and left, while the maids prepared the towels and the flasks.
"My name is Rina", said the first maid. "And this is Anna." She gestured towards the flasks. "Bath oils", she explained. "We have rose, bergamot, lavender, violet, white musk and pine. What fragrance do you prefer?"
Jacques blinked, unused to such a wide range of choices.
Seeing him hesitate, Anna offered her advice. "If I may, my lord, as I understand you come from a long trip, I'd suggest lavender to soothe and bergamot to revitalise."
"Um, fine, thank you", Jacques accepted gratefully. He expected the maids to leave, but Anna moved to the bathtub instead and poured a few drops of both oils into the warm water, while Rina came up to him and started to take off his jacket. Startled, Jacques recoiled and the maid paused. "We're here to assist you with your bath, my lord", she said, a little bit puzzled by his reaction.
Again, Jacques blinked. He was not new to this kind of treatment, as it had been customary in the grand mansions of his previous masters, but he hadn't expected to receive it here in what was, after all, a rather small castle in a small town. He pondered the chance of exploiting the luxury, but then decided against it. He wanted to unwind and he wasn't sure he could do so in the presence of these two girls, beautiful but whom he was completely unfamiliar with.
"Thank you", he said politely, but firmly. "I don't want to keep you from doing your job, but I'd rather be left alone."
Rina shot him a meaningful glance and twirled a lock of her blond hair in her fingers. "Are you sure, my lord?" she said softly. "Our company can be very... relaxing, I assure you."
Here we go again, thought Jacques, sighing inwardly: women throwing themselves at him either because they found him attractive and wanted to have some fun, or because they hoped for money or favours in reward of their service. In the past he wouldn't turn down the chance to bed two lovely lasses, on the contrary, he would gladly jump on it – and them – but not now, not any more. He had chosen change, and this implied also changing his habits with the gentler sex.
He would never treat a woman poorly and refuse her rudely, though. "Thank you, Rina", he therefore answered with a knowing smirk. "I'm sure of it, and I appreciate your offer, truly. Mayhap I will... enjoy your company another time."
Rina's smile faltered just a little, but she accepted his decision graciously enough and even winked at him. "You don't know what you're missing, handsome..."
He played along and grinned, but remained firm in his decision. When the two maids left, he realised he wasn't regretting it. It hadn't come to him as hard as he had expected, and this surprised him. It was a sign, he decided, a sign that he had set the right course of his life and taken the right path.
Feeling somehow lighter, as if having passed a test he hadn't even been aware he was taking, Jacques turned to the bath. Stripping off his travel-worn clothes, he eased himself into the warm, scented water, letting out a long sigh as the heat seeped into his tired muscles. The tension of the journey, the weight of his past, seemed to melt away, at least for the moment. He allowed himself a rare moment of peace, closing his eyes and letting the water soothe his body and mind.
As he soaked, his thoughts drifted to Lady Alisa. She was unlike any woman he had ever met: strong, intelligent, and commanding respect effortlessly. Her directness was refreshing, and he found himself admiring her more than he had expected. There was a spark in her, a kind of quiet power that made him feel that, under her leadership, he might finally find the redemption he sought.
After a time, Jacques stepped out of the bath, feeling rejuvenated. He dried himself with the thick towels provided, dressed in clean clothes, and crossed over to the window. He opened the panels and inhaled the warm, fragrant summer air of what was deemed to become his new country and home, or so he hoped with all his heart.
As the light of day faded, a soft knock at the door drew his attention. It was Stefano.
"I'm here to escort you to dinner, my lord", he explained.
Jacques' stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had had only a quite meagre midday meal, so he accepted the steward's suggestion gladly. He followed him down the stone staircases and through the corridors, feeling a sense of anticipation. This dinner would be his first real introduction to the life he was now a part of, and he was determined to make a good impression.
When they reached the grand hall, Jacques was struck by its grandeur. The room was large, with a high wooden ceiling, adorned with banners and tapestries that told the history of the Malatesta family. In the middle of the wall opposite to the entrance, in a bas-relief was the winged lion, holding an open book with the Latin words Pax tibi, Marce, Evangelista meus (*), the symbol of the Republic of Venice. The lion's den, thought Jacques; but he didn't feel like walking into the danger such place would hold, quite the opposite: despite his nervousness as the newcomer in town, one who had to prove his worth to both his new mistress and her household, he felt strangely at ease.
A long table, elegantly set for the evening meal, dominated the centre of the hall. Two massive fireplaces on the long sidewalls would warm up the expansive room in winter.
Lady Alisa was already there, standing near the head of the table. She was dressed simply, her green gown unadorned, but made of precious silk, and held an elegance that spoke of her status. When she saw Jacques, she offered him a nod and a small smile, which he returned with a bow.
"Sir Jacques," she greeted him as he approached. "I trust you found your quarters to your liking?"
"More than I could have hoped for, my lady," Jacques replied, his tone respectful but with a touch of warmth. "I am grateful for your hospitality."
Alisa gestured for him to take the seat beside hers, at the centre of the table. "'Tis no more than you deserve, given the responsibilities you are about to take on. Please, sit. Let us enjoy a meal and speak of the tasks that lie ahead."
Jacques took the offered seat, and soon, the meal began. The food was rich and plentiful, a variety of local dishes that showcased the bounty of the land. As they ate, the countess spoke about her estate and the present political situation of the region.
Alisa was pleased to find in Jacques an entertaining company as both a good listener and a bright talker. He in fact listened intently, offering his thoughts when appropriate, but mostly absorbing the wealth of information she shared.
The trade of the celebratedProsecco wine, Alisa explained, held a major importance not only for Valdastico, but for the Republic of Venice too, and currently she had to face great challenges to protect said trade, not only from the constant threats of common highwaymen but also from military plunderers from both the Padua Carraresi and the Verona Scaligers, who were at war for a couple of years now. Jacques offered a couple of smart suggestions about defensive strategies for the caravans, which Alisa appreciated.
A couple of Prosecco goblets later, and over an excellent piece of roasted duck, Alisa started to relax, finding herself surprisingly at ease with Jacques. For once, she hadn't to fight and demand respect from a stranger – Venetian men used to grant it without question because of the customary high esteem women were held in Venetian society – as Jacques had apparently accepted her as an equal.
As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted to more personal topics, and Jacques found himself loosing up in Alisa's company. There was an ease to their interaction, a sense of mutual respect that made him feel, for the first time in a long while, that he might have found a place where he could truly belong. Also, he felt that Alisa had no prejudices about him, and if she had had some because of the reputation that preceded him, she had set them aside to build her own impression about him.
When the meal was finally over, and the last of the wine had been poured, Alisa turned to Jacques with a thoughtful expression. "Tomorrow, we will begin the work of rebuilding our guard and securing the fief. You will have to select new recruits and train them, and the veterans as well, as you have offered new fighting techniques from your personal experience. I trust you will be ready to start."
Jacques met her gaze, feeling the weight of the task ahead, but also the thrill of purpose. "I will be ready, my lady."
"Excellent", Alisa nodded. "I took the liberty to have your uniform prepared", she then added, gesturing to Stefano. He gestured in turn to a maid, who came forward and displayed a black sleeveless tunic, which would serve as a cover for any underlying iron corset Jacques would wear. The embroidery on its front showed the Malatesta coat of arms – three bearded male heads, silver on green – under the golden Lion of St. Mark on a red backdrop.
"Too beautiful to wear for everyday duty", Jacques observed, admiring the fine embroidery work.
"Aye, this one is only for special occasions", Alisa agreed. "On everyday duty, you'll have a simple black tunic with the Malatesta colours on the front and the back, and the captain's insignia."
Jacques nodded. "I have a question", he said. "It might sound idle, but I always wondered why Venice has the Lion of St. Mark holding an open book as her usual crest, while in battle she displays sometimes the Lion holding a sword, and sometimes a closed book."
Alisa smiled, pleased at his show of interest in the Republic's symbols. "'Tis not accurate", she answered. "We use the sword on an actual battlefield only, both on land and sea, while the flag with the closed book simply means that the Republic is at war, and is displayed throughout the land until peace is restored, when the flag with the open book returns. By the way, 'tis St. Mark's Gospel, not any random book. The motto on it comes from a dream he had when he disembarked on an island in the Venetian lagoon, spoken to him by an angel, who this way told him he would find there peace, veneration and honour."
Jacques thanked the Countess for her detailed explanation, glad to have learned something more about his new homeland.
Alisa signalled the maid to place the tunic on the table, for Jacques to take to his room later. "Venice has mostly a trading vocation", she continued. "However, if need arises, Venetians are also fierce fighters. The Ottoman Empire knows something about this", she concluded proudly, referring to the on-and-off, decades-long conflict between the two powerful countries and the many battles they had fought one against the other for the control of the trade in the Mediterranean Sea.
Alisa then turned to several people who were seemingly waiting for her and signalled them to come near. She introduced them to Jacques as Teresa the housekeeper, Giovanni the head of the stables, Franco the head of the kitchen, Giuliano and Roberto, the two sergeants of the guard with whom he was expected to work closely, and a number of others. "This is Sir Jacques Le Gris", she told them all. "As you may have already heard, he's the new captain of the guard and chief accountant."
After everyone had respectfully bowed or curtseyed to the newcomer, the household members retired, and so did Jacques, quite tired from the long day full of novelties and thrills. Alisa instead stayed a little longer to enjoy the usual castle evening entertainment, made of travelling troubadours, jugglers, acrobats, musicians, story-tellers who were passing through Valdastico and stopped for a while at her castle. Then, the Countess retired to her bedchambers and went to sleep.
Tomorrow would surely be a challenging day, she thought before falling asleep. And she loved challenges.
(*) Peace be with you, Mark, my Evangelist.