Adventure Magazine Cover — page 137: what you’re looking at

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136 of moodiness and cheer. Michael had as- tonished the jester by forcing him to share their meals in common. Bembo had al- ways fared, before this, with the hunting- dogs of Contarini. “Tis said,” he ventured, thinking of the gold they must have to pay for their food, “that you have seen the battles of the pagans in the East. Could not you gain a place and honor as condottiere with one of the noble lords of Venice?”’ “Would one of the noble lords employ a slave, Bembo?” Michael smiled at his com- panion’s surprize. “Nay, there is no man’s work in these mock wars of Italy where the condottieri bleed—their masters.”’ He looked out moodily at the forests of galley masts and emptied his flagon of wine. “Being idlers, good Bembo, an enterprise must come to us. Go you into the city and learn if this venture is to be had—one wherein we may sharpen our wits and laugh mighti'y.” Bembo went. returned. “So you have come back to me?’ re- marked Michael. ‘‘Are you not afraid of poverty and the dagger of Rudolfo? Bem- bo, if you had favor with a magician, what would you wish to be?” The hunchback looked seriously at his torn finery. “Saving my present service to you, my master, I would like to be the Grand Cham who wears a ruby on every toe and scatters gold as the monks scatter indulgences.”’ “So, has the Spaniard’s gossip stirred your blood?” “Master, it is truth. The council has commissioned Rudolfo to command the soldiery of the expedition to the land of the Grand Cham,” So suddenly did Michael Bearn spring up from his chair that wine and table were up- set on Bembo, who fell back in alarm. “No!” the Breton cried. “Aye. They only await the selection of a proper mariner to go with Clavijo and those already chosen. Fifteen thousand ducats have been granted Messer Clavijo for funds. ’Tis said, despite his zeal to set eyes again upon the earthly paradise, he balked at taking the money for a space.” “Clavijo—Ruy de Gonzales Clavijo— goes verily to the Grand Cham!” Michael sat down on the bed and rocked with laugh- It was evening when he Adventure ter. “’Twould make the devil laugh. And who else goes?”’ ‘“‘A certain young count of the Mocenigo family—a rare gallant. Soranzi—I heard the thrifty merchant consulted his astrolo- ger and found that his horoscope foretold rare things of him in Tatary. Verbum sat sapienti—a word to the wise is enough.” “Soranzi! Who else?” “Nearly the whole of Venice has begged for the chance. Nevertheless, the wise council knows that the company must be limited to a few; five gentlemen and the men-at-arms.” “Perhaps the Cham would give him the freedom of the city—of Cathay, in the desert —the sandy desert!’ Michael remarked seriously. Bembo gaped and retreated to a corner of the room, fearing that his master might be afflicted with madness, until the reassuring thought came to him that Michael Bearn was only drunk. “Aye, sir,” he grinned amiably, “there is sand i’:the desert ” ‘“‘Clavijo vouches for it, wise Bembo, and for the saltness of the sea.”’ “The salt—verily, sir—ha-ho!”’ “Bembo.” Michael shook his dark head gravely. “ behold such a voyager as Ruy Clavijo again. We will look no further, wait no longer. The wind is up, my fool, and we will sail with the tide. No quest could be more suited to our hearts than this.” He caught up his cloak, hat and sword and bowed ceremoniously to the jester. “Behold, the new master mariner of Mes- ser Clavijo and his party. I go to the coun- cil, or, better, to Contarini, for my commis- sion.’ Hereupon Bembo scratched his head and cast a tentative glance at the water jar. He had been eager to inform his master that Rudolfo was in the expedition, hoping to turn Michael from thought of meddling with Contarini’s plans, and now Michael had said he would join the party. ¢ Let me bathe your head, master, before you go.” Michael laughed. “Water, upon such a night as this! Nay, ~ we will drink to our commission and to the Grand Cham. Come, most wise oracle, a toast!’ : “To the Grand Cham.” cup reluctantly. Gomicbookssco ark me, man; never will you Bembo filled a a