Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these
Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others
were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now
beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that
no man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim.
In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for once,
and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their
master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped.
At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of
the parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian
Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training
them upon the drawbridge.
From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the
postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco laughed
deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this. They had
bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were gone to use
them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they tried, and a
fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what dummies they
had been held in check during the past week. This was followed by a
silence of some moments, terminated at last by the sound of a bugle.
Answering that summons to a parley, and with a last word of injunction to
Fortemani, who was left in charge of the men at the guns, Francesco rode
forward on one of Gian Maria's horses, escorted by Lanciotto and Zaccaria
similarly mounted, and each armed with a loaded arquebuse.
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