Tomas would have to deal with Suleiman I and Frederico with Lala Kara Mustafa
Pasha. The ships had to be
destroyed by the guns of Tomas, and the land soldiers by the guns and swords of
Frederico. Both men approached their commands with different means. Frederico
had risen early, before the early dawn, and assisted at Mass. He then prayed before
the icon of Our Lady in the small chapel next to his apartments for two hours.
His orders came from a different authority than Vallette.
Today,
Frederico knew the battle would commence, and, sadly, many people would die.
But, he was assured by the Virgin that Malta would endure and win in the
end, after many trials.
Frederico
had been mentally prepared for suffering and victory. The French Grand Master
had joined Frederico for Mass, surprisingly prayer, and then breakfast. The tall and elegant Grand Master prepared for battle like his entire household, by going to the King of Kings and begging for spiritual prudent and perseverance. And, a break-fast it
was for both men. Frederico trusted Valette’s humility, born of his past as a
galley slave himself, and as a true Knight of the Order. Vallette had already
given new orders in the dark of pre-dawn. The promontory and St.
Elmo’s armies were on alert, even before Tomas saw the sails in the distance.
Vallette had received word from his men in Sicily
and southern Italy ,
men who would be called “secret service spies” in later days.
The
Grand Master poured fresh water with lime slices for both men. A small, brown bird hopped on the window sill.
“The rumour mills turn and turn, giving the numbers of ships belonging to the
Sultan Suleiman as 193. Do you suppose such numbers would be sent here? I do, but
we will hold back the enemy from the shores of Europe
herself.”
Frederico
tore some bread and spread soft cheese over the piece. “Yes, I believe the
numbers we are hearing. Why not, Vallette. Why not? The Sultan has many ships
and he has pride to match. He wants to destroy Catholicity on this island and
will use all his power to do so. Yes, I believe these numbers.”
Vallette
stood up and went to the window. “Listen, the bell, the warning bell. Tomas has
seen something-the something we knew was coming. Call for my horse and
attendant, please Frederico, and God bless you here. I assume you are ready? I
go to the eastern coast with God and Our Lady to guide me.”
Vallette
was outside, and turned to shake Frederico’s hand. “I am ready, Sir.”
Vallette
mounted his horse, and he and his attendant charged down the cobblestone
streets to the gate and off in the direction of the promontory. Frederico attache joined him, “Do you want
your horse, Sir?” Frederico looked at
the young man, who seemed frightened. The young man was a novice in the Order,
a young man from England ,
fair and tall, but scared. “Matthew, let us first stop and say a rosary to Our
Lady. Then, we shall join the troops. Pray for courage and perseverance, as
this will be a long battle.”
Within
the hour, the two were on their way to the tents at Fort Angelo .
In this Year of Our Lord, 1565, on May 18th, with the hardening breeze of
the sea in his face, mixed with the sand of the sirocco, Frederico thought,
either he would suffer and meet His God soon, or suffer and endure to fight for
many days. All rested in God’s Hands. He sped on his white horse and Matthew
followed on his bay.
To
be continued…