"I do not know where he is," she said at last, "but I think you will see him before long, for he is coming here."
"Here?" Andronicus was taken by surprise. "Here?" he repeated in wonder.
"Yes, here," Zoe answered, "and soon. He has business here to-night."
"The girl is mad," said the Emperor, looking towards the ministers.
"Quite mad, your august Majesty," said one.
"Evidently out of her mind, Sire," echoed the other. "It will be well to put out her eyes and let her go."
The one who had spoken first, the fawning Greek, made a sign to an officer near him, and the latter gave an order to one of the running footmen who stood waiting. The latter instantly ran in through the great open doorway of the palace. Where Andronicus was, the torturer was never hard to find.
"And pray," asked the Emperor, with an ugly smile, "what possible business can a Venetian merchant have here at this hour? Will you please to tell us?"
"A business that will be soon despatched, if G.o.d will," answered Zoe.
She could not look away from the man who had murdered Michael Rhangabe, and though she knew what she was risking if she did not gain time, the longing for just vengeance was too strong for her, so that she could not control her speech, and in her clear young voice Andronicus heard an accent that struck terror to his heart.
"She is not mad!" he exclaimed in sudden anxiety. "She knows something! Make her speak!"
While the words were on his lips the running footman returned, and after him another man came quickly, carrying a worn leathern bag. He was very tall and thin, and he stooped, he had the face of a corpse and there was no light in his eyes. Zoe did not see him, but he came and stood behind her, close to the Ethiopian, and he fumbled in his bag; and all around the uniforms of the guard were as red as blood in the twilight.
"I am not afraid to speak, since I am caught," Zoe said, answering the Emperor"s words, "and what I say is true. For what you owe me, you owe to many and many more, and the name of that debt is blood!"
"She is raving!" cried Andronicus in an unsteady voice.
"No, I am not mad," Zoe answered, speaking loud and clear. "Your reckoning has been due these two years, and a man is coming within the hour to claim it, and you shall pay all, both to others and to me, whether you will or not!"
"Who is this creature?" asked the Emperor, but his cheeks were whiter now.
Not a sound broke the silence, and the man with the leathern bag crept a little nearer to the defenceless girl, and the Ethiopian"s grip tightened on her wrists. From somewhere beyond the walls of the courtyard the neighing of a horse broke the stillness.
"Who is this girl that dares me within my own gates?" Andronicus asked again, turning to his ministers and officers.
The Greek with the fawning face bent in his saddle towards the young Emperor as if he were prostrating himself, and he spoke in a very low voice.
"Your Majesty would do well to have her tongue torn out before she says more."
"Who is she, I say?" cried the sovereign, suddenly furious, as cowards can be.
No one spoke. The corpse-faced man crept nearer to Zoe, his dull eyes fixed on her features. Beyond the wall and far off the unseen horse neighed again. It was growing darker, but all around the scarlet tunics of the guards were as red as blood.
Then the answer came. The twisted lips of the tormentor moved slowly, and words came from them in a thin, harsh voice, like the creaking of the rack.
"She is Michael Rhangabe"s daughter."
"The Protosparthos?" The Emperor"s voice shook again.
The corpse-faced man nodded twice in a.s.sent, and his thin lips writhed hideously when Zoe"s eyes fell on him.
"I saw her at the prison when I took him out to die," he said.
His bony hand, all knotty and stained from his horrid work, took the girl"s delicate chin, forcing her to turn her full face to him; and she quivered from head to foot at his touch. He knew well the convulsive shiver that ran through the victim he touched for the first time; he could feel it in his fingers as the musician feels the strings; he was familiar with it, as the fisherman"s hand is with the tremor and tension of his rod when a fish strikes; and he smiled in a ghastly way.
"Yes," he said, "it is she." And he laughed.
He held her by the chin and wagged her beautiful head to right and left.
Since the Emperor had spoken no sound had been heard but the torturer"s discordant voice; but now the outraged girl"s shriek of fury split the air.
"Wretch!"
Her small hands suddenly slipped through the Ethiopian"s capacious hold. Before he could catch her she had wrenched herself free from both men and had struck a furious blow full in the torturer"s livid face; and though she was but a slender girl her anger gave her a man"s strength, and her swiftness lent her a sudden advantage. The man reeled back three paces before he could steady himself again.
"Hold her!" cried Andronicus, for he feared she might have a knife hidden on her, and both her hands were free.
But only for that instant. Though the African was huge, he was quick, and he was behind her. Almost before the Emperor had called out, Zoe was a prisoner again, and the man she had struck was close to her with his battered leathern bag. He looked up to Andronicus for a command before he began his work.
"Make her tell what she knows," the Emperor said, rea.s.sured since she was again fast in the African"s great hands.
He leaned forward a little, the better to hear the words which pain was to draw from Zoe"s lips, and the Greek minister settled himself comfortably in the saddle to enjoy the rare amus.e.m.e.nt of seeing a beautiful and n.o.ble girl deliberately tortured before half a hundred men. Some of the guards also pressed upon each other to see; but there were some among them who had served under Rhangabe, and these looked into one another"s faces and spoke words almost under their breath, that all together swelled to a low murmur, such as the tide makes on a still night, just when it turns back from the ebb.
The sunset had faded, but there was light enough to see the dark bruise across the corpse-like face where Zoe had struck it with all her might.
The man opened his old leathern bag, and his stained hands fumbled in it, amongst irons that were brown but not rusty, and thongs plaited with wire, and strangely shaped tools in which there were well-greased screws that turned easily.
But all these his knotty fingers rejected. He knew each by the touch.
They were good enough for ordinary slaves, or perhaps for a double-dealing steward, or even a lying courtier. For a highborn maiden victim he had an instrument far more refined and exquisitely keen than any of these things, and he treasured it as a very rare possession which never left him day or night; for it had been sent to him from very far away in the south as a present of great value; and it was alive, and needed the warmth of his body constantly lest it should die. But there was something in the bag that belonged to it and must be found before it could be taken from its little cage of silver filigree in the bosom of the corpse-faced man.
He found it. His stained hand drew from the bag a dry walnut. With the point of the knife he wore at his belt he split it carefully, and turned the nut out of one of the half sh.e.l.ls, tossing the other into the bag.
The Greek minister watched him with the deepest interest, but Andronicus drummed impatiently with his gloved fingers on the high gilt pommel of his saddle. Yet it was all very quickly done, and though there was less light there was still enough; and while he waited the Emperor again read the letter Zoe had dropped.
But she watched him, calm and fearless, and ready to face death if need be; she wondered what sort of hold Carlo Zeno would take on his neck, when all was known. And she saw red all round him and behind him and beside him up to his knees, the red of the guards" tunics that were like scarlet stains in the twilight air.
Once more the restless horse neighed, far off, and another answered him.
Then the man was ready. He took his knife and ripped Zoe"s blue cotton tunic from her throat to her left shoulder and down her side, and she tried not even to shudder, for she did not know what was coming but she would die bravely; and when she was dead Zeno would come, and Gorlias, and they would avenge her. Death was but death, even by torture, and there were worse things in life which had been spared her.
Furthermore, if she died, it would be for a good cause, as well as to help Zeno to be free. Therefore, now that it was all decided, she looked a last time at the face of Andronicus, loose-lipped and cruel, and then shut her eyes and prayed G.o.d that she might neither flinch nor utter one word that could hinder the end, if it was at hand, as she still hoped.
She felt the chilly air on her shoulder and side, and then something small and hard was pressed against her, just under her arm; and hands that felt like horns, but were horribly quick and skilful, put a bandage round her and drew it tight, and it kept the thing in its place.
But under that thing, which was the half walnut sh.e.l.l, something small was alive and moved slowly round and round. There was no real pain at first, but she felt that the slow and delicate irritation might drive her mad.
Then, suddenly, a thrill of wild agony ran through her and convulsed her body against her will, but many hands held her now and she could not move. The horrible borer-beetle had begun to work its way into her flesh, under the walnut sh.e.l.l.
The corpse-faced man had watched her attentively, and when he saw her start his creaking voice was heard in the stillness.