A Devil of a Man (6) - A Pope's Dilemma

Pope Innocent was in a quandary; was he doing the right thing in letting those ruffians get away unscathed?

After Count Amadeus of Savoy had left the papal chamber, he turned to Cardinal Albornoz as if to ask his opinion but instead, he said:

“Tell me, Gil, are my eyes deceiving me? I thought that our visitor was dressed all in green.”

“ Nothing wrong with your eyesight, Holy Father, he was,” he replied.

Then explained that Amadeus had earned the nickname the Green Count when, in celebration of his 19th birthday, he appeared in a series of tournaments dressed with green plumes upon his helm, a green silk tabard over his armour, and his horse bearing green caparisons. 

He entered with an escort of eleven knights dressed in green, each led by a lady also dressed in green, leading her knight's steed with a green cord. 

From then on, green was the favourite colour for his clothes. 

***

A young messenger from Avignon was admitted to the presence of Albert Sterz to whom he delivered a note. The papal seal was clearly noticeable.

“Ah, a summon,” exclaimed John Hawkwood.

“No, you are wrong my friend,” said Albert, “it's an invitation. Would it be  convenient for us to have a conversation with a foreign personage, and could we bring an Italian-speaking man with us, please?” 

Bernardo della Sala jumped at the chance. “I am game,” he said. “For a drop of the holy wine, I can even translate from Latin.”

                                      ***

Sterz, Hawkwood and della Sala sat at a table around which the Pope, Cardinal Gil Alvarez Alboroz and an individual, who resembled a leprechaun, also sat.

Pointing to the man completely dressed in green, the pontiff cut to the chase.

“Our esteemed guest, Count Amadeus of Savoy, is here on behalf of the Marquis of Montferrat who wishes to offer employment to your Company to assist in his fight with the Visconti of Milan.”

Bernardo della Sala, who had already been primed by Sterz on what to say, explained that he was there in his capacity as a translator.

In a clear Italian voice, he spoke to the Green Count:

“My Lord, I have been instructed by my commandant that we are inclined to accept your offer. We can supply 5,500 horsemen and 2,000 infantry but as our total contingent nears 10.000 there will have to be redundancies.”

He briefly paused before resuming.

“Obviously those made redundant will have to be compensated and,  bearing that in mind, we are prepared to accept 100,000 florins, not a sou less.”

Without batting an eyelid the count said, “No problem.”

Even though His Holiness didn't speak the lingua, he recognised the amount being asked and nearly had a heart attack.

He was told in French the details of the deal that had been struck and felt better but not by much because he learned that the share of his bill was 30,000 florins. 

He thought that it was daylight robbery and. as it had been done by the mercenaries, it was absolutely true.

***

The die had been cast and it was time to march into the unknown. It was decided that they would travel light; no war machines to be dragged along, just the necessaries: horses, longbows, arrows, ropes, hooks, shields and hand weapons.

There were no tears shed by the villagers at their departure or maybe just a few from girls who had been duped with marriage promises. Some had even agreed to a final clinch, having been assured by the lads that they would return.

The jubilant celebrations of the inhabitants had to be kept in check because no sooner had the venturers cleared the town that they came back to stock up with food, free of course even though their pockets were now bulging with gold coins.

Habits die hard and the band sweeps across the French countryside like a rout of wolves; cross the Alpes-Maritimes and in Marseilles, being refused free food, go ape.

They finally get to Piemonte and they are itching to go to Milan to cross swords with the enemy, a certain Barnabò Visconti and a phalanx of soldiers of fortune led by Albert Sterz's nemesis, Konrad Von Landau. when there is a change of plans.

Their new employer, the Marquis of Montferrat, has in the meantime got the hump with a relative of the Count Amadeus and want Sterz and the company, now called the White Company, to go to Savoy and sort him out. 

This of course throws the cat among the pigeons because Amadeus had been the go-between of the Marquis and the mercenaries and was supposed to be a bystander but now that his family is under threat, he feels no obligation to be neutral and goes to aid his cousin.

***

Albert is miffed. He had made arrangements for Hildegund to join him in Milan after the onslaught that he planned for the Visconti, but now it's in the lap of the gods when that will happen.

“She will have to be patient for a while, John,” he tells Hawkwood, but I know that she misses me.”

John knows otherwise but doesn't let on and says:

“Of course she does Albert.”

He doesn't see any reason to destroy the pleasant but illusory belief of the German captain by telling him of one particular night after a successful battle.

Everyone had celebrated the victory but the Germans had done so in excess by quaffing a large quantity of strong ale and Sterz was so sozzled that he was dead to the world and had slept soundly all night long.

John was reading as he couldn't sleep and it seemed that Hildegund couldn't either because she came into his tent. She was wearing a transparent negligé and he felt a stirring in his loins.

“War, war, war. Albert thinks of nothing else; I am bored stiff,” she said, but I can see that you are stiff but not bored, ja?.”

He understood that it was a rhetorical question, so instead of sleeping in the arms of Morpheus, they slept in each other's arms.

He wasn't sure but he could have sworn he heard the raucous cackle of Thomas, the old trooper, but maybe it was just the shriek of an owl.

 

 

 

© Luigi Pagano 2024