Adventure Magazine Cover — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

124 Whereupon Michael frowned, for the other’s face, although not his bearing, had a familiar aspect. Sheathing his own sword, the Breton smiled and took his dagger in his left hand. | “Good morrow, signor,” he said from hard lips. “The light is better now than when you traitorously set upon me. Shall we re- - sume with our poniards?”’ The other hesitated, measuring Michael, noting the width of shoulder and length of arm of the Breton, whose featherless cap was thrust well back, disclosing black curls a little gray about the brows. Under the curls gray eyes, alight and whimsical, met the stranger’s stare. “You ponder, signor,’”’ prompted Michael politely. “Perhaps it surprizes you that I who bore no weapon on shipboard have now mastered the use of blade and poniard with my one hand. Or perchance your sense of honor and the high courage you display in a crisis prompt you to refrain from matching daggers with a man in a leathern shirt when you wear a mail jerkin.” At this an exclamation sounded behind him. Michael had not failed to glance over his shoulder at the first appearance of the light and had seen only a fox-faced mer- chant in a long ermine cloak and attended by a brace of servitors who looked as if they would have liked to flee at sight of bare steel. Now he perceived that the merchant was | staring at him round-eyed as if Michael had uttered blasphemy or madness. “By the rood!” swore the tall stranger. “By whatever you wish,” assented Michael, “‘so long as you fight like a man. Come, the sight of a coward spoils my appe- tite for dinner.” wie HE WAITED for the other’s rush. Sim Michael had recognized in his assail- ant the Italian captain of merce- naries who had struck down his wounded countrymen in the effort to force himself ’ aboard Michael’s galley at Nicopolis. The other must have recognized him from the gondola and had sought the revenge he had sworn for Michael’s blow. Instead of resuming the duel, the Italian smiled coldly and stepped back, pointing to his chest where the doublet was slashed over the mail. © “T do not fight with cutthroats, Messer Soranzi,” the Italian said to the merchant, Adventure who was staring at them, excusing his action. “This sailor beset me on the bridge after hailing my gondola under pre- text of asking his way. You can see where he struck me.” : : The shrewd eyes of the merchant went from one to the other and he fingered his own stout belly tenderly. “A lie,” remarked the Breton promptly, ‘and a base one, forsooth. This fellow’s blade is snapped and you can see on the stones behind me where it broke off.” Soranzi stared at him curiously and un- easily. “VYou*must be mad, good sir,” he ob- served, “‘to wish to encounter further Pietro Rudolfo, the famous swordsman and con- dottiere.”’ “Faith,” grinned Michael. “Is it mad+ ness to face the famous Rudolfo, instead of waiting to receive his knife in your back?” He marked in his memory the name of his enemy. Rudolfo in spite of the open insult did not renew the fight. Instead he mut- tered that he had no time for night prowlers when he had already been delayed too long on his way to the house of a friend. ~ The merchant was sidling past Michael, holding up his long skirts, and shot a sharp question at the Breton, once he had gained the Italian’s side, accompanied by his men. “Your name and state, s7gnor?”’ Michael nodded at Rudolfo to indicate that the condottiere knew both but Rudolfo was silent. “You have an excellent memory, Ser Pietro,” the Breton commented, “for it im- pelled you to let out my blood. Yet must I salve it myself. ” To Soranzi he said— “T am called Michael Bearn, the master- mariner.” At this the merchant glanced at Rudolfo in some surprize for it was known from the Rialto to Saint Mark’s that the young Breton had been honored that day by the all - powerful council. The interests of Venice and its merchants lay upon the sea and the dictates of the Maritime Council were law. Moreover Michael’s bearing was hardly that of a cutthroat. Soranzi murmured diplomatically: 2 “Now that you two worthy captains have reached an understanding it behooves me to Eomichbooks:co