Chapter III

The count became gloomy at the conclusion of what had been done everywhere in the throne room, so without asking the king for the right to leave, he did it himself disappearing from the room, the king was not in a good mood, it was like wax , and the fever was becoming threatening to his health, so his hurried fern arrived, accompanied by two noisy ciras who gave him the bottle of salt, and the king recovered a little, after such a pungent odor, and began to feel his mind clearer, but it was hard for him to ask a question, so he was content only to understand that he had suffered a heart attack.

The count, getting into the saddle, finally greets a few closer friends, each distinguished by something, and does not forget the pure smile of the Duke of York who had satisfied his meeting with the count with a phlegmatic smile full of melancholy words on the steps of his castle, and the count, smiling at all the ducal ironies, made a forced movement of his hand to understand his haste, familiar to his so invisible departures, accompanied by his honorable guard, went out before all through the castle gate, and with a triumphant smile set off proudly for the house. the king's four Latin words, but the king was running away like a dog's cat and, of course, death, a greedy spirit often biting the worst wound.

Arriving at his home in Richmond, after two and a half months of expensive travel, he passionately kisses the threshold of his house, which only the hopes that last die in man can imagine, but kisses from afar the well-being of his palace and now still with the deed, touching the door and the gate and madly happy, laughed incessantly, for he thought he had long since died in the fight with Ferroni, you as a reader heard the victory of the count, but until he hurt him so badly, he too had suffered, enough, in battle his right shoulder was torn because Ferroni's sword had penetrated terribly into his flesh, and this took time to heal, yet Ferroni did not forget his promise of steadfastness and this giant with the face of Agamemnon, hideous with lips and tongue, yet a man like a wolf with fangs exposed to anyone and ready at any moment to prey like a beast, forgot his vow made like a courtier in front of Violleta, a person with traces that still bleeds today sweeter pu I hold only the bitterness of a merciless past over a creature on the verge of despair, who usually extinguishes the flame of life and kills a work of divine will.

But the reader, more curious than impressed, would like to know Violleta's story, but how the trumpet of the echo tilts the balance towards the diapers of a newborn baby, who sleeps without tears at the breast of a lady in emerald taffeta clothes, but strange is the fact that this woman caregiver, so noble, does not want a nanny for the baby at all as the great wives of seniors, bored with living and well-being crush growing children, instead of going to royal balls where they can know that they will attract the attention of other adults august faces.

Once the child slept like a happy angel, the mother did not lack any other attention than to rock the baby in her arms, but also to sing him a short lullaby, this woman of medium stature with brown hair and always staring. in detail he often expressed a secret regret to the beholder, but the noble lady resembled a temple virgin who was bent over, letting all the beauty pour on the floor like a mirror, that is why passers-by called her "Lady without words"

The living room door opened and the living rooms were always preceded by a small room that hid the door, a person's shadow appeared in the candlestick candle, because in the living room there was boundless darkness, and the candlesticks lit the bed of a very weak baby, his mother shuddered. the opening and squeaking of the door, though no one as a servant was left by the ruthless guards, this time someone passing through this house entered without much trouble.

The shadow of his footsteps was slightly surprised by this vain darkness, but under the curtains appeared the plates of a meaningless foreign armor, he was a peaceful knight, who did not take out his helmet full of feathers, a striped blue cloak hung from his shoulders. white heads that formed a headless white cross, the noble lady was frightened by the height of such a bold gentleman, and in her mind flashed thousands of thoughts, including that this swordsman was the result of a plot to take his child from arms, so she pulled out a dagger with a gold handle inlaid with stones, a gift from her long-received husband.

The knight lifted his helmet and instead of being a scarecrow for quiet mothers, you became the husband of this lady who put aside the dagger and the child who began to feel a meaningless abandonment and said it through his cries, but you feel the vigorous hand that He lifted him from the bed of the cradle and carried him to his metal chest. he kissed his forehead and the baby began to smile incomprehensibly in front of the two parents.

“You here? I thought you were dead, otherwise I haven't seen you in a long time, everyone was asking questions, even the king, I think you're tired after so much travel!”

”No Mary, I have been dreaming for a long time at this moment, to be able to admire my son, to be able to sit quietly, not to lie in bed like a cripple, to be able to walk quietly, to play the harp or to listen to the trumpet when I serve food, anything but I can't walk because of the pain, or you rest like ermines, in bedding, while I slept or in the stable, or in a bed of straw that smells like mice and many wondered why we are being treated , we, the great generals of Henry, in other countries like that, you are a worm in the patience of others, then only I know how long I stayed in Rome, in bandages, with a torn shoulder!”

„I see that you have an elegant outfit for this recent past, you don't seem to be treated badly! The countess thought sadly.”

„I know, among yours you can hope for a calmer life, compared to strangers you are an animal, an unpunished evil and this armor, I wear it for a few days, in the rest of the trip I went like ordinary people, me and my guard, and after the beauty of the clothes, you also suffer from the harsh generosity of the people, a corner of bread was our favorite food, sometimes we broke the law and stole vegetables, you do anything hungry!”

Here the countess made a disgusting gesture of her own, which the count understood.

„Okay, count, you as a man of great value as you are, you have come to act like thieves, you are in the power of your mind or you have gone mad!”

„No ma'am, don't eat for five days, fasting to the bishop of Chantebury, you would starve like a dog, weakened by the road, without blood, even if you still regret that I am a husband like I shouldn't be, or you are an honest woman withdraw your words, or you will leave here without a son, choose, I respect judges only here in my country!” He lit up and already became dizzy, then recovered slowly, and approached the child to caress him, but the countess snatched him from her hands and put him in the cradle, then turned to him;                                                                                                                               ”Who should think more politely, let me shout, and you take my child in your arms, William, you should leave this room as soon as possible!” Said the count's wife, placing the child in the cradle and leaning in front of him, defending her child from invisible hands.

”What happened?”

„You're still wanted by Carol's people, you should hide for a while, they'll still kill you, even if you ran away from there ...”

„ Ah! Certainly, I value more dead than alive for them, however let me kiss my son maybe for the last time.”

Mary took the baby in her arms and lifted him to William's height, and he kissed him on the forehead and said prophetically as usual.

„Today, may heaven be my witness, because he gave me this baby who will be called Dixon, for his name to travel the world and will be too strong defender of us, of our homeland, where he will always take revenge the enemies.”

Then he kissed his wife, who answered with a sweet smile and came out like a knight of the Holy Order at the door of the salon, from darkness to light, from sadness to joy, like a true nobleman full of parental love to his scent, the heir to the titles parents, a knight, strong in his father's court or among the great ladies who were ashamed of the brilliance of this demigod, but a vulnerable spider on the field of honor, crushed in his great duels by the great trumpets of the show, amazed by the swords that fluttering in flashes and a baltag like a mad cyclops hitting his chest, so well ends a volume of romantic stories in blood and death, but only now reveal the actors and the beautiful artists full of verve the scene of the novel, wrapped so far in the folds of the curtain

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In the middle, a mess with lute scales but especially trumpets, under the curtains of shabby and old-fashioned canvas, where under them great merchants sold their fruitful charms of a new rich season, if until now the market near Farnese Palace was empty, now as if the streets of this city were bouncing under the hot crowds, and again Villa Farnesina caught fire under the amnari of riots, in the blows of the whip, and of the cries of the boyars shouting from the height of their chariots, a handsome young man with a rather courteous, clumsy face. noble enough for his tense smile, and dead for passers-by, he did not force himself to overtake the wardrobe of the great seniors, he wore an emerald green coat not very new, but also without warp on his elbows, with folds, and on his neck hangs a chain gold, where a large cross, like a well-known order, was hung on the fierce chest, clad in gold with four red rubies, which shone in the end of each arm encrusted, meaning the four winds of the world, a blue satin scarf, new, after the charm of silver stitches, on which hangs a tall sword, beating at every step of the cadent young man, a light rhythm of love sonnet , in fact, this honorable man does not walk so leisurely, for the simple fact that he had to breathe cold air, because a rain had haunted the sky one night and one morning when the townspeople were compromised with the weather and after lunch, he would not dream such a melancholy walk with the thought but embarrassing in sight, if the swordsman had not had an observed honor, many people, ugly and stupid, would still greet him with crazy smiles and shouts, but full of respect, otherwise he would have taken long ago, by the rumble of carts, and stallions who were suffocating, they could have torn him down, if the oxen had not taken into account the illustrious gentleman, who carelessly wiped his face with his handkerchief, not taking into account the whirlwind. to the actors, if you hadn't known about Carlos Ferroni's greatness so far, don't hope that he spread such a respectable horror on the street, but not every filfizon plays his lyrics as well as he does with the sword.

His admirers of all ranks were amazed at the talent of this knight d'Ampezzo, but many knew him by the name of Ferroni, because he had been very careful not to say his name, because another knight d'Ampezzo killed in battle a French duke. in Paris, of course, he became afraid of the dead, and where they passed, crosses rose, but this knight was not very honorable, and so in no week the inhabitants of Verona assaulted his house in the attack of which he was killed with a blow to the head. and died suddenly in spite of his stormy sword, all believed that the d'Ampezzo family was extinguished with this last shoot, killed in their own palace, the cruelest fact was that crowd that in shouts and roars of deadly arrows, attacked the palace , for what purpose?

We will tell you briefly, the events of the evening of September 2, 1493, thus Verona when the light of day sets, sets the tumult of city life, at night the worlds of the city shone only on the windows but always eclipsed by velvet curtains, or cigarette blankets, on the windows of the poor. where the procession of misery ruled and only turning your gaze a little you enter there you were left with a bitter disgust, the lime of the peeled wall and the stone of the wall moistened by the leaks of debris, so that the wall blackened, and the stone shattered for years, long spots of miserable water painted this wall and the tears of an ascetic repentance seemed.

The shadows would delight at this hour, among the pillars of the closed shops, where the shutters in the wind would creak bitterly at the passage of such a ghost, and the water in the roar at a leak would seem the faintest noise of the street, sometimes a stone bored in its place of mortar, collapsed on the tiles of the paths with a snap of pliers, so the fear of the inhabitants was not to see the forced door and the frog strangled by such a robber, but that night against the few laws of the city, on a raging rain that washed the walls and the street like a ruthless whip, instead of a special calm, torches and flames illuminated every corner of the closed shops where at the plank roofs, a new armed accomplice often stopped in the middle of a fiery crowd, in fact, if you were careful, everyone was spinning something in their hand, an old-fashioned but not blunt sword, sometimes behind one shone a huge pond, and at the belt many in a leather sheath scan the handle of a coarse dagger on which the man leaned stealthily in it, no one was left in the houses, but all in laughter laughed, joked waiting for an old footman to pay them how much you're going for gold, someone still wouldn't do something like this, but it seems that this horde that was attacking every corner in the light of the metal lamps will be armed with a long-established conflict, after midnight some riders ivira to coduce new mercenaries at the battlefield, many were surprised to see a peaceful palace as the target of robbery, others did not fit in their skin, it is a joy that lord d'Ampezzo is a first-rate murderer, and many others listening to the count's story Avignon lost confidence in the lord d'Ampezzo, but de Avignon scorned his great tragedy of the family, and gave the sea to come the senior d'Ampezzo, a peaceful man provoked to duel like many others by the duke of Rennes before the king, thus the knight only came to visit the king and did not look for the patch of virtue, every man has his vice, or if d'Ampezzo came to kill, he would do since he entered Paris.

Two months later, from the fatal duel of the Duke of Rennes, in which he finds himself dead, of Avignon as a brother, he began to mock his family's craziness, a deceptive lie without evidence, in which he hoped to kill the last remnant of the inhabitants. from Verona, so far enraged, he told himself that he was going to fight Salvatore d'Ampezzo, but his father stopped him in secret, without helping him with anything in his plans, de Avignon convinced him that his sword d 'Ampezzo is like a cyclops, and this head of the family did not want to lose the last son he considered his heir without this obstacle that infuriated the count and his father, in the end still troubled by His father's insistence and perseverance soon gave way to Avignon, and he promised to forget as much as he could about d'Ampezzo, but it was a pure pretense on the part of his son, and after coming out very happy he began to laugh out loud. a hope for the father to calm his old age with no the wound of the present.

But when the count arrived in his apartment, he began to tune in to his poor servant all evening, whose servants in the house began to gnash their teeth in fear, after being locked up for a week in his study, came out with a smile on his face asked the father's blessing from his father, pretending that he was going to Toulon to calm down in the breeze of the seas, indeed he went in there, a man over whom the count gave in all the cities as far as Vienna, he thought it was something noble, but on the way to Valence a horde of unknown knights plundered his camp, and the gentleman whom he called a friend until then after his rich and beautifully laced clothes, became his mortal enemy, after fierce battles in the Ron valley, unknown knights took him and two other noble friends in captivity, the others from soldiers to servants were beheaded by a knight under the lively eyes of the count and the two knights of Troyes, after the martyrdom his companions end, a tall warrior, like his armed soldiers but with a few red feathers gleaming on the top of his terrible helmet, a rough but beautifully cut beard with arched eyebrows, and penetrating eyes reminded the Count of the great gentleman he always met.

De Avignon was disgusted by the blood dripping under the feet of his boots, his sword was not taken, which meant appreciation from this cruel warrior, the most frightening was why they all died except him and the two friends, probably this Knut valued only an escort garbage and valued the lives of these great nobles very well

Impassive in the middle of his circle of fierce accomplices of this barbarian Saxon, he stared still at the three gloomy prisoners who looked closely at his surroundings. for a moment a horrible smile fluttered on his robber's face, then the thunder began to speak;

„You have something to say, don't forget, you are some meowing cats, if in front of the great gentlemen you are rich, here in the south you are slaves of the truth, you boast of your great fortunes in your France, here in the south you are some famous leaves in the fierce wind, where is your great nobility, where d'Avignon?”

The count spat like a mad platter at the gladiator, who was looking at his three great boyars, who were upside down, a thoughtless deed cost him dearly like a life, in vain the two knights tried to stop him, it was too late, for the count who looked with evil eyes at this cyclops that prevented his great achievements and plans had fallen to the tank, where he thought he would get rid of his fierce enemies he found the most terrible in the deserted rocks of the central massif!

„A short word, sir, with what right you took us prisoners in this France of nobility, a more cruel and fierce explanation than a deed, could unravel the locks of so many mysteries, otherwise I will challenge you to a duel that will end the great your iniquities!”

But an ironic laugh deafens his ears.

„Sir, the prescribed duel will be a fatal one for your mastery, don't worry about the day then, it will be the one in which you will die, I a strong tyrant I followed all your movements I knew this and all the comedy this tragic is just a simple move towards the new intention, whoever knew me in more detail would recognize the face of a marquis, Carlos Ferroni's brother, I swore as a young man to be the secret defender of the nation of d'Ampezzo, and d'Avignon who does not like the air of France and aspires to the heat of Toulun, will be able to endure the roar of the Ron frogs, it is not on the coast, but it is still a navigable path, and you can release it to the sky, safer, but in blood, I'm sorry I can't release you, but until Verrona, everyone knows you're two weeks away!”

And at a sign, the soldiers around him tied their swords and locked them in a hollow in the mountains far from any city, in misery, but do not let them starve, the intention was for Salvatore to know his intention as a less quiet count. than his father had unknowingly advanced in the great revenge.

***

Carlos was walking as calmly as possible, he still had a nervous tremor in his veins and if you looked at him more carefully he trembled all over his body, but this was felt only in his heart, and in his mind the thoughts flowed frantically, the questions came out of themselves, yes not everyone had an answer of their own, it was a step of his own and as soon as the rain stopped he left with a broken heart for a meeting with Mrs. Violette, who knows the safe rank would be silent, everyone thought she was crazy under her shabby old and full clothes of warp, she dressed only in black, and the wave of wool, which covered more than half of her face, hid her pure femininity, no one saw her brown hair curls, no one discerned her eyes bright with a clear blue, and she had become a wicked woman had offended the world in every way, but the one who endured so kindly was the Duchess of Livorno, a young lady hidden from prying eyes, but exceedingly beautiful in the light of the opaque, who made Luigi d'Ampezzo look an indr perfectly finished, but the duchess did not show herself to anyone and knew Ferroni's secret that the great swordsman was the son of a great gladiator of a past century, and Salvatore was no longer fashionable at that time as he had been applauded in Paris by his enemies de Rennes , so the sword of an honest fighter had been crossed by that of d'Avignon, but even today it is not known what kind of death Salvatore had.

Carlos entered the garden of a tall house, the wall that surrounded it was taller than any stature of a curious man, the walls were whitewashed, and from the heavy rains the bricks broke into small pieces, yellowing the cobblestones, the gate did not look great, a a metal door for passers-by and a portico for riders, Carlos approached the door and looked around and when there was no one unlocking the lock, and the door opened with a loud creak, the door looked more like a prison, all done from a piece of metal without any hole to offer a curious way to search the interior, the swordsman locks the door inside and enters an alley full of briar and hemlock, from which the knight shielded his cloak in the hope that it will be the same full cape of charm, arrived through that wild courtyard at the door of the house, an entrance that only kept its facade and arched arch, but peeled lime had become a natural mosaic on this untidy stone, the rusty railings formed a picture that gave the last and most defining conclusion of a passer-by, Carlos did not stop here and continued his way to under a wild rose vault, once the host of a vine aged for years, but fruitful, after this The house turns into a candle for which the unclean wick has long been preparing a voiceless extinction, Luigi, who by these circumstances became the nobleman d'Ampezzo, enters a porch almost demolished by an enormous tree trunk, to which the vines gave a the natural vault, which hid even the smallest detail, the pavilion was glued to the wall and had an entrance to the house, but that had been blocked and instead only a latticed skylight was kept, a durable padlock gave meaning to the researcher that once this window was the window sill of a young lady who plays Homeric on the lute, the knight unlocks the lock and with unshakable force climbs the two legs of the wall, in a few moments the boots they touched the slabs of the rooms and with the same hand closed the lattice bars, then rushed through the house where everything was in perfect shine, the dining tables wiped away by the shining dust, servants spinning in the corridors painted and full of bas-reliefs, as the Duchess of Livorno received Luigi d'Ampezzo, like servants, received him as one of the house, the curtains blocked the secret entrance through which Luigi passed and a door with two appearances hid that silent beauty, if the house looks outside like the grave of an extinct family, inside life he reigned abundantly, and those of the house were hidden in this prison of their lives, a difficult condition for a lackey without dignity, but apart from the cook and the butler, an exceptionally taciturn old man, the servitude consisted only of a brigade of women. who accompanied her everywhere, gentlemen did not exist, and d'Apmezzo was the only captain defending these walls ready to collapse.

Luigi, after traversing several such well-decorated rooms, was greeted by a serious procession, in which only Duchess Sylve smiled with pleasure, the six attendants withdrew behind the curtains, and the knight began to speak softly like a passionate lover.

„I'm sorry, Sylve, but the circumstances require time and the window eye skill, and etiquette requires caution among these sleepy shoots, and Rome watchers are always not content to look at the wall, and as innate robbers clean the lime of the lid to see what death dwell in these weeds, a pity that you would not look like a duchess, an inappropriate moment for an exiled dignity!

Madame de Livorno sketched a lost smile, then suddenly took a cold and serious look that threatened even the quietest soul, began to speak in a trembling voice, with melancholy;

- Don't make me hate you, d'Ampezzo, what I once won, I lost now, my parents were murdered on the way to Prato, or they were kidnapped, nothing is known about them after two days a false letter takes me from my guardians, coming from some robbers rather than from my parents, and taken to Vicenza, in the mountains, from where you saved me, then brought to Rome in this deserted house, with a neglected garden and with wild flowers, hidden from the eyes of many, and you d'Ampezzo do not inspire so much fear in the city, that to protect, from kidnappers a poor duchess, maybe you will fight to take care of me a whole life, but I can't promise you that I will be able to regain the lost rank!”

Knight Luigi took on a talkative figure and a sacrificial joy brightened on his face, he knew that a chance could make him become ugly to a people, but what a little saved him the poverty patiently hoped for by the young woman he loved, Sylve de Livorno was a young duchess, the last survivor of a deadly punishment that struck an entire nation. Sylve was barely six years old when she was taken by an unknown carriage from her family's castle, and has since disappeared like a lifeless ghost. in the hands of robbers who wanted to sell her for a lot of money for her beauty, they were united by the sultans of Africa, but d'Ampezzo managed to escape her from the robbery and cruel power of the robbers with the help of his soldiers.

And for years he took her with him to Rome, leaving his mansion in the mountains of Cortina d'Ampezzo near the city of Belluno, he feared that he would be discovered and will have this fate as his father, but his brother, who had left him with years ago he had killed d'Avignon right at his entrance to Paris, so the father of the two had been avenged with blood.

It was night and the Count d'Avignon was returning on horseback in the middle of the night to the house, the few lanterns on the street corner light dimmed the black expanse of fog, suddenly a lightning shadow fell from a wall and d'Avignon always cautiously took out in the dark his sword to appear by anyone who knows cunning.

***

So let's go back to the discussion, to Luigi who sketched a sincere smile and said as if in secret;

„My dear Sylve, tomorrow I will die to raise you, or I will be cowardly and I will let you be who you are and until now, I will fight as a village to save you to raise you, or you will die on your own among others , getting older, but hopefully I'll get rid of you!”

It was so slowly, the clouds foreshadowed a rain and it all ended with just a few lights on the balconies easter and more famous for sculpture and art, the house turned off its lights early, and when night fell softly over the houses, in the natural pavilion made of ivy and vines, a barely heard fall was heard on the cracked stones and a few promising words were extinguished in the power of the night

„I promise you, gentlemen, I am not jealous of other people's mistresses, but I will be able to make the crowd jealous and instead of making me your lover, you will see me again as a breathless corpse tomorrow at the tournament!”

He finished the sonnet he had been repeating for hours, Carlos was losing his role outside this house, and a beautiful sweet voice answered from the window;

„ Do what you can, I rely on you, that you will escape me, and I promise you that I will not be someone else's, but I will love you forever, you escaped and you will raise me up again!”

„May the Lord allow me to succeed! and a sweet kiss faded on the lips of the two, then the window closed and the lock closed, then a complete silence lay down while a watchful eye would notice that a cat slipping through the thorns, the shadow of Mr. Ferroni.”