Cry to heaven Page 0,63

pain as the voice whispered in his ear, “Maestro, come, now.”

It was in the tavern that Tonio first caught sight of the three of them.

He was very drunk. He had been upstairs with Bettina, and coming down now into the smoky public room, he had slumped at a bench against the wall, unable to move farther. He must talk to Ernestino, explain to him that tonight he could not go with him or the others. These mingled horrors could find no voice. Such music had not yet been written.

And as he peered into this dingy gloom an odd thought came to him; he should have lost consciousness by this time. He had never before drunk so much and remained awake to witness his own disintegration.

Everything flickered that was this room, heavy bodies shifting under soot-darkened lamps, and the tankard descending in front of him.

He was about to drink when he saw the faces of those men, picked them out one by one, each it seemed at an angle so that it showed him the scrutiny of a single eye.

And in that moment when he linked the three of these men together in the recognition of who and what they were, he felt the stab of panic through the drunkenness which would have pushed him to despair.

Nothing changed in the room. He struggled to keep his eyes open. He even lifted the wine and drank it down without realizing what he was doing. And then he felt himself pitched forward glaring at one of these men as if in challenge. And then his head hit the wall in back.

A plan was struggling to find its form. He could not however reason it out. It involved determining how far he was from the Palazzo Lisani and which was the surest route. He lifted his hand as if attempting to grasp the threads that led him through calli and canals, and then all of this vanished. He saw one of these men coming towards him.

He moved his lips in the form of words but in this din he heard nothing of what he said, which was “My brother is going to have me killed.” He said this with wonder. Wonder that it was in fact happening and wonder that until this very moment he had not really believed it possible!

Carlo? Carlo who wanted so desperately that Tonio understand? This was incomprehensible. But it was happening! He had to get out of this place.

And this demon of a bravo had settled opposite him, his hulking shoulders obliterating the entire tavern as his immense face drew closer: “Come on home, Signore….” he whispered. “Your brother must speak to you.”

“Ooooh, no.” Tonio shook his head.

He reached up to beckon for Bettina and he felt himself drawn up as if he were weightless, his feet tumbling over tangled limbs, until suddenly he was pulled into the calle. He gulped for air. The rain fell down in little slaps on his face. And attempting to stand, he slipped back against the damp wall.

But cautiously turning his head, he realized he was free.

He burst into a run.

He could feel pain in his feet pushing through numbness, but he knew that he was moving fast, dashing in fact, towards the mist which was the canal. And for one instant he pitched forward to see the lanterns at the landing before he was drawn back, struggling, into the dark. He had his stiletto out and dug it into something soft. Then it was clattering on the ground. And his mouth was being wrenched open while he was held.

He convulsed his body against this with all his strength. Then gagging, struggling for breath as a wedge was forced between his teeth, he felt the first draft of wine.

Once he threw it back up with a convulsion that encircled his ribs with pain. But then it came again. He felt if he couldn’t close his mouth or get loose he would go mad. Or drown.

Guido was not asleep. He was in that state which is more restful, from time to time, than sleep, because it can be savored. Lying on his back in this small monastic room in the tiny town of Flovigo, he was staring at the wooden shuttered window which he had opened to the spring rain.

The sky was lightening. It was perhaps an hour before dawn. And though ordinarily he would have been cold (he was fully dressed but the wind brought the rain into the room) he was not

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