The White Knight: Tirant Lo Blanc Part 23

"This is exactly what I wanted."

He raised his encampment that was on the side of the kings and had all the tents and carts placed inside the two castles with all the pages. And Tirant held his men back until nightfall.

And before the sun had pa.s.sed the columns of Hercules, Tirant crossed the bridge to the side where he had first been, and he had the foot soldiers climb a hill that was in line with the head of the bridge. When the foot soldiers were up, he had the men with weapons also go up, one squadron behind the other. The sultan, who was on that side, seeing that almost all the men had gone up the side of the hill to give battle, and that there were only four squadrons remaining, went swiftly toward them and attacked them, making them flee up the hill, and sixty Christians were killed. Tirant retreated, battling all the time, and night fell. The Turks came down to the foot of the hill and set up their tents.

When Tirant went up the hill, he found all the knights and n.o.bles absolutely disconsolate. They were running here and there, crying and moaning, with sad, woeful countenances. When Tirant saw them acting that way, he called them all together and said:

"I only want to tell you that if you will put your effort into this, with the aid of Our Lord and His Holy Mother, Our Lady, I will make you victorious over your enemies within three hours."

Nearly all were consoled by the captain's words, except for the Duke of Macedonia who, before the battles were finished, sent a squire of his with instructions about what he should tell the emperor. When he reached the city, he dismounted and left his horse, indicating that he had fled the battle-site and that he had tears in his eyes. When he was in the palace, he found many people there, and he said:

"Where is that poor man they call the emperor?"

When he was informed that Albi, the Duke of Macedonia's squire, had arrived, the emperor quickly came out of his chambers. When Albi saw the emperor he fell to the ground, pulling his hair and lowering his eyes and face, and he said mournfully:

"It has been your will to degrade your captains and va.s.sals, and to honor foreigners of ill repute, men who are known for no deeds, and who wear shoddy tunics. Oh, Emperor! You are lost and so are all your people, for it has been your wish to take away the succession of the empire from that famous and ill.u.s.trious n.o.bleman, the Duke of Macedonia, to give it to a vile foreigner who has led himself and all the men in the camp to their destruction, and has run away, and we don't know where he is. This is what the person who was the emperor deserved! For the Moors have them trapped on a small hill, and they have no bread or wine, or even water for the horses. By now they must all be dead. I am going to leave with my great pain, and you, who were the emperor, must remain with your own."

"Oh, woe is me!" cried the emperor. And he went into his chambers and fell upon his bed, lamenting.

The princess approached her father to comfort him, but there was no one to console the empress and the other maidens. Rumors of the bad news ran throughout the city, and everyone broke into loud wailing for the friends and relatives they believed had been killed. Let us leave them to their weeping and see what is happening to Tirant.

Having bolstered his men's spirits with his words, they were very optimistic, trusting the great judgement of the captain. Tirant left the encampment at the top well guarded, and took a man with him and went down the back side of the mountain without being seen. When he was at the bottom, he left his armor under a tree, and cautiously stole up to the castle of Lord Malvei. He picked up two stones, one in each hand, and just as they had agreed, he signaled by hitting them together. When Lord Malvei heard the signal, he opened the gates of the bridge. Tirant went in, and found everything that had been prepared. First he had a great deal of oil and tar poured into a wooden bucket, along with pitch and quicklime and other things that would help make a fire, and he gathered a good deal of dry wood, and he had it all spread on top of the wooden raft he had made, and tied two long ropes to each of the chains of the raft. The two men got into a small fis.h.i.+ng boat, and each of them held one of the ropes. When the raft was untied, the current carried it downriver, and whenever it would become stuck on one side of the river one of the men would pull on a rope to free it. Tirant told them not to light the fire until they were near the bridge.

When the Turks saw such huge flames in the river, they believed they were lost, and the sultan and all his men abandoned their camp. Fleeing as quickly as they could, they ran toward the wooden bridge. As the sultan had a good horse, he first waited until the fire reached the bridge, and then he went across, and many men followed him. And if the two men had followed the captain's orders and waited to light the fire, all would have been killed or taken prisoner. In their rush to cross to the other side, many Moors and their horses fell into the water. The fire was so great that the entire bridge quickly burned down.

And twenty-two thousand or more men were unable to cross the bridge.

When Tirant observed the fire going down the river, he cautiously worked his way back to his troops. He found nearly all of them mounted, wanting to get their enemies' booty. But Tirant would not allow it, telling them:

"We would gain no honor now. Tomorrow we will have the honor and the booty."

In spite of all that had happened, Tirant had a very tight watch set that night, saying:

"Not all of them could have gotten across. In their desperation, couldn't they fall on us?"

When the clear day broke and the sun appeared on our horizon, the captain had the trumpets blown, and everyone mounted. They had the carts and the pages brought out, and all the men went back down to their former camp, and from there they saw what was left of the enemy.

Diafebus, seeing the pitiful state of the Turks, took the ring from Tirant's hand, and Tirant said to him:

"Cousin, what are you doing?"

Diafebus said:

"I want to send Pyramus to the emperor. They haven't had word from us for so long!"

"I beg you, cousin," said Tirant, "send word to him that we need flour and supplies before we run out."

Pyramus left. When he reached the city of Constantinople, he saw everyone looking very said and oppressed, and all the women were crying. He went into the palace, and it was worse: their faces were scratched, their clothing torn. Of all those who saw him, no one said a word to him. When he spoke to anyone, they would not answer. He thought the emperor must have died, or the empress, or their daughter.

He went further inside, into a hall, and recognized the emperor's chamberlain, and he ran to him, laughing. The chamberlain said:

"With all your unbridled happiness, how dare you come to the emperor's chamber?"

"Friend," said Pyramus, "don't be angry with me: I don't know what is making everyone sad here. Let me talk to the emperor, and if he is sad, I will make him happy."

Without saying another word, the chamberlain went into the empress's chamber where he found the emperor with his daughter and the maidens, the windows closed and all of them in mourning.

The chamberlain said:

"Sire, one of those reprobate traitors with that reprobate knight, Tirant lo Blanc, is at the door. His name is Pyramus, and I am certain he has fled the battle with his lord. He says he wants to talk to Your Majesty."

The emperor said:

"Tell him to get out of here, and to leave my lands. And if I find him or any of his master's men, I will have them thrown down from the highest tower in the palace."

And as the emperor spoke these words, imagine how the pain in the princess's heart grew twofold. For no matter how much harm Tirant might have done, she could not completely forget him.

After the chamberlain told Pyramus about the emperor's response, Pyramus said:

"In faith, I will not leave. For my lord Tirant has committed no treachery, nor have any of his men. If the emperor will not listen to me, tell the princess to come out here to the chamber door, and I will tell her things that will make her very happy."

The chamberlain told the emperor what Pyramus had said. Then the emperor told Carmesina to go out and talk to him, but that she was not to let him come inside the chamber. When the princess came out to the hall with such a sad face, Pyramus knelt and kissed her hand, and then he began to speak:

"My most excellent lady, I am startled by the great change I see in Your Majesty, in everyone in the palace and in the entire city. I'm very astonished because I don't know what has caused this, and no one I've asked has been willing to tell me. If His Majesty, the emperor, doesn't want that famous knight, Tirant lo Blanc, to be his captain, tell me, and we will quickly leave the empire."

When the distressed princess had listened to Pyramus words, with tears in her eyes she told him everything the duke's squire had said. When Pyramus heard such wickedness, he put his hands to his head and answered:

"My lady, have the ones who brought you such news, and caused the emperor so much pain, put into prison. And arrest me if the truth isn't that Tirant has been victorious and caused the sultan to flee, and burned down the bridge, and has more than twenty thousand of the enemy trapped near the river. If all this isn't true, let them cut me to pieces.

And as greater proof, here is the captain's seal that Tirant gave me."

When the princess heard such glorious news, she quickly ran into the chamber where her father was, and told him everything Pyramus had said. The poor emperor, with all the excessive happiness he felt, fainted and fell from his chair. The doctors were summoned, and they restored him to consciousness. He had Pyramus brought in, and as soon as he heard the news from his lips, he had all the bells in the city rung, and everyone went to the church, and there they gave praise and thanks to G.o.d, Our Lord, and to His Holy Mother, for the victory that had been achieved.

When they returned to the palace, the emperor had the duke's squire imprisoned. Then Pyramus begged him to have the s.h.i.+ps leave quickly with provisions for the encampment. The following day Pyramus left with many words of praise for Tirant and for many others. When this emissary returned with the news, Tirant was amazed at what the Duke of Macedonia had done.

The day Pyramus left, the Turks, having lost all hope, realized that they could not carry on the battle. So to choose the lesser of two evils, they decided to let themselves be taken prisoner.

Luckily, the wise Moor, Abdalla Salomon, was still with them, and they decided to send him as amba.s.sador to Tirant once more. He put a rag on the end of a lance, and when Tirant saw it, he answered immediately. Abdalla Salomon went up to Tirant's camp, presented himself, and very humbly said:

"If your lords.h.i.+p, magnanimous captain, would do us the grace of sparing our lives, you would be regarded as glorious among your enemies. I beg you to act with all the virtue you have in you."

The captain had the Moor and all who were with him come into his tent, and he fed them. And they certainly needed it. Then the captain met with all the great lords, and they agreed with what Tirant said to them. He had Amba.s.sador Abdalla summoned, and gave him the following reply:

"I don't think it will be very long before I'll give the sultan and all the others a fitting punishment, but so that they will see that I don't wish to harm them as much as I could, I'll be satisfied if they will bring all their offensive and defensive weapons to the middle of that meadow. And I don't want them all brought together, but one hundred at a time, and then they can bring the horses. That's the way I want it done."

The amba.s.sador took his leave of the captain, and went back and did everything Tirant had ordered.

When all the weapons had been laid down, the captain had them all brought to the camp, and then all the horses were brought up.

The Turks were very pleased that he didn't have them all killed, because they thought that even if they were held captive, they could be ransomed. Tirant had them come, unarmed, to the foot of the mountain, and there he gave them food in abundance while his men kept them guarded. Then Tirant went down to them and seized the Christian dukes, counts and knights, among them, and he had them come with him up to his camp. He made them go into a tent, and they were well-served with everything necessary for human sustenance. But many were not pleased that the captain was paying them so much honor when they did not deserve it, for they had come to help Moors against Christians. And when Tirant's men said so to their faces, they recognized their error, and stopped eating.

Tirant held the prisoners this way until the s.h.i.+ps arrived.