Of the wisdom and foresight of the Queen's Venetian Chamberlain the Admiral had ample proof; since the Bernardini's message of alarm, sent the night before the mutiny, had arrived only a few hours before it had been followed by his second despatch, in swift and terrible justification.
Because of these rumors Mutio di Costanzo, Admiral of Cyprus, had ordered messages of warning sent to the chief citadels, as he had been able, before he left Nikosia; and also because of them, he rode to-day with a so scanty following not having dared to leave any points of vantage without sufficient guard.
He turned and surveyed his little band of Knights with frowning brows—his invincible Knights of the Golden Spurs—they seemed so few in the face of the perplexities of his problem.
Not that any thought of personal danger for himself or for them, in the few against the many, entered into his difficulties; but that the facts made failure a possibility; and there must be no failure.
He raised his visor and each man saw his leader's face as the face of a conqueror.
"Coraggio, Signori!" he cried; "our cause is just! God and San Giovanni make strong our arms!"
Well might he be proud of this noble company pressing forward silently, but with quickening pace, at sight of the urgency in their leader's face.
No noble house of Cyprus could boast more ancient lineage, nor so many knights entitled to wear the golden spurs, nor more honorable trophies of the valor dear to knightly hearts. They rode all in full armor, some bearing their famous shields of crimson with the quaint heraldic lion rampant on his golden bar—the device which all men knew had been granted them for extraordinary proof of prowess centuries before.
For this noble family the ancient city of Costanza had been named; and the quaint church of Santa Maria di Costanza, rich in relics and in decoration, had been the private chapel of their historic Castle.
To the assuring rhythm of their strenuous tramp the Admiral turned again to his unsolved problems. For the galleys of Cyprus had hitherto been kept armed by force, but recently their crews had been disbanded, in obedience to a strange clause in the will of King Janus. Now, as Mutio di Costanzo went on his way, wrapped in meditations that were not cheering, the question came to him—"Why?"