Chapter 22

Festivities that End in Tragedy

 

 

 

Journal Entry

 

“Daylight was still asserting its dominance into the evening, but the cave of L’Ecurie needed sconces of candles to create the artificial everlasting twilight that hovered there. There was a long table at the far end of the room, opposite the spiral staircase, where the places of honour were set. To one side of the bride and groom sat Julie and I, while Paul Blanchard and Marie (to be served this evening) took the corresponding, opposite places. There were two chairs on each end, one of which was occupied by Gaudin, all the while surveying the proceedings with a self-satisfied grin on his face. The other chair, no doubt reserved for Dormoy, remained vacant, ready for the visitation of a ghostly spectator. A near-by table was shared by Madame Beber and Signora Botelli, both dressed in their finest and cloaked with every inch of dignity that they could summon for the occasion.

“The remainder of the tables held students and masters who had either been acquainted with Testagrossa or had frequented the establishment and were favoured to have been served by Caterina. There were musicians passing among the tables, amidst much laughter and applause. They criss-crossed between the servers who kept a continuous procession of platters and steaming bowls of savoury mutton and pork, with potatoes and carrots and cabbages combining fragrances which filled the vaulted room. The wine goblets, of course, were kept constantly full, notwithstanding the fact that the revellers were spilling almost as much as they drank, especially as the drinking continued.

“Caterina still wore her crown of laurels, although the flowers about her bosom, waist and hips had been discarded. Her deep blue eyes were wells of warm contentment and peace, as she realised what it was like to look upon and be regarded by the people in this room as their mistress, rather than their servant. I noticed her expression, and I thought she might agree that it would be a good thing if masters and servants could change places every once in a while and see the world from each other’s perspective.

“Caterina glanced at her mother’s table, and the two women’s eyes met across the short distance between them. Her mother’s expression softened with approval, for the first time, notwithstanding that there was no chevalier and no courtly position or title. They exchanged assurances of happiness, assurances that they each needed from the other.

“I turned to Julie and placed my hand on hers. There were no distinctions or barriers of shame between any of us this day, and I thought that there might be a chance for the future. If this is not who we are, it is, at least, what we are capable of becoming.

“I was startled from my reveries by the racket of leather heels pounding the spiral stairs like drum beats. All eyes turned in the direction of the noise and saw five well-dressed youths turn one after the other from the base of the stairs to face the company. They each had a sword, clanking in scabbards at their sides. In front stood Hugh de Frontenac, who drew his sword and brandished it in the direction of the head table. ‘You have wronged me, and I demand satisfaction,’ he bellowed to the assembled guests. ‘I and my four companions stand ready to exact satisfaction from those of you who saw fit to make sport of me. Howard, Gaudin step forward and face me like men.’

“Testagrossa was the first to rise from the table, still smiling and unwilling to relinquish the open spirit of the evening. ‘Chevalier,’ said he, his right hand outstretched and open. ‘My wedding day is not for quarrels or ancient grudges. Either join us in a cup of wine or depart and foment your quarrels elsewhere.’

“‘I’ll make your wife a widow before I drink your Latin scholar’s health or wish you anything but plague and disaster.’

“‘Put up your sword before I shove it down your arrogant throat,’ broke in Gaudin as he rose to confront de Frontenac with nothing more than his fist and a table knife.

“‘We can settle this like gentlemen, outside, each with proper swords,’ I added, after having risen to restrain Gaudin by both hands.

“‘You are no gentleman, Worshipful Howard. What would your noble family think of the drab with whom you keep company?’

“Testagrossa moved to place himself directly in front of Gaudin and me, still trying to deflect the imminent conflict. He placed his bulk between the sword point and the rest of the company, still raising his hands in a plea for calm. Suddenly, we were interrupted by the cacophony of what sounded like hundreds of church bells tolling slowly and steadily, causing such a din that everyone was momentarily distracted; everyone but de Frontenac.

With the moment thus frozen, like a theatrical tableau, de Frontenac thrust his sword point under Testagrossa’s extended arm and into the fleshy part of Gaudin’s shoulder. I saw my wounded friend slump to the ground. I gave a savage cry, through clenched teeth, and raised a chair with which to beat down de Frontenac, when a cry of ‘Hold,’ issued from the top of the spiral staircase.

“Down stepped a crier, flushed and winded with the news that was now rampant in the streets. ‘Desist for the love of God, if you have discretion and sensibility in your hearts. The King is dead. France has lost her father and her lord.’

“Suddenly, everything else was forgotten and people issued up the stairs and out into the street in panic and in search of either confirmation or denial of the news. I dropped the chair and stooped to cradle Gaudin’s head, lifting him gently out of the pool of blood that was spreading from the side of his doublet. I tried, unsuccessfully to stem the bleeding, and my friend’s breathing was slow and shallow. Bernardo turned to shield his wife, and de Frontenac stood still, his sword having forgotten its purpose. I looked up and fixed my gaze with undisguised fury at the motionless chevalier. De Frontenac’s haughty condescension answered for him.

“‘My father’s ally, the Duke of Guise, will soon take control of this city for the Dauphin. He will rid the city of subversive and disreputable elements. My father will denounce you, Howard, as a foreigner and the subject of a heretic queen. The Duke will hunt you down and rid us of you and your kind.’ With that, de Frontenac sheathed his sword and, turning without a glance toward the wounded student, he gathered his friends and remounted the stairs, amid the heavy pounding of boots.

“Julie and I helped Gaudin up the stairs and outside. We agreed that his condition called for the ministrations of Brother Anselm, rather than surgeons of the sort that had most likely killed the King. With the help of the Blanchards and some sturdy kitchen staff, we got him on a litter and carried him directly to the Abbey of Sainte-Geneviève.”