in his life that he had encountered any voice he could not identify. Was this man, woman, or child?
Its coloratura was so light and flexible that it might be a woman. But no. It had that sharp, indefinable edge that was masculine. And it was young, very young. But who would have bothered to train a mere boy like this? Who would have lavished on him so many secrets?
The voice was perfectly on the note, weaving in and out of the violins that accompanied it, rising above them, dipping down, embellishing effortlessly.
And it did not have the sound of brass in it, this voice; it suggested wood rather than brass, the slightly darkened sound of a violin rather than the flatter sound of the trumpet.
It was a castrato, it had to be!
He was caught for a moment between the urge to go and seek it, and the desire merely to listen to it. That one so obviously young could sing with this feeling was simply out of the question. And yet he was hearing it. It was arresting him, transporting him, this voice with its acrobatic flexibility colored by so much sadness.
Sadness, that was it. He pulled on his boots, slipped on his heavy cape, and went in search of the singer.
What he found astonished him, but not entirely.
Following the little band of serenaders into a tavern he soon saw that this was a boy who was almost a man, a tall, lithe, angelic child with a man’s bearing. He was rich: he wore the finest Venetian lace at his throat, and on his fingers were garnets set in heavily worked silver. And those around him, full of affection and doting, called him “Excellency.”
I am alive, Tonio thought. I am in a room. People were moving, talking. And if he was alive, he could stay alive. And he’d been right, Carlo could not do this to him, not Carlo. With an enormous effort he managed to open his eyes. The darkness came rolling back over him, but he opened them again and saw the shadows slipping up the walls and across the low ceiling as these people talked.
That voice he knew, it was the bravo, Giovanni, who was forever at Carlo’s door, and he was saying something in a low, threatening voice.
Why hadn’t they killed him already? What was going on? He did not dare move until he was ready to make his move, and through the slits of his eyes he could see this gaunt, dirty man holding some sort of valise in his hands who was saying:
“I will not do it! The boy’s too old.”
“He is not too old.” The bravo, Giovanni, was losing patience. “Do as you’re told, and do it well.”
What were they talking about? Do what? The bravo named Alonso was at his left side. There was a door behind the hollow-cheeked one who said now:
“I will have no part of this,” and commenced backing towards that door. “I’m not a butcher, I’m a surgeon….”
But Giovanni had taken him roughly and shoved him forward until his eyes fixed on Tonio. “Noooo…”
Tonio rose up, just as Alonso’s hands came down to hold him, his momentum heaving him forward so that he knocked the gaunt man out of his path. The whole room blazed before him as he struggled, kicking out with both feet as he was lifted off the floor. He saw the valise fly open, he saw the knives dropping out of it, he heard that man mumbling some frantic prayer. Then he had a man’s face in his hand and he was gouging it while his right fist pounded into the man’s middle, knocking him back. Things broke around him, there was the splitting of wood, and suddenly he swung round free, falling because he hadn’t expected it. The rain was coming down on him, he’d gotten away, he was running!
Moist earth gave under his feet, rocks cut through his boots, and it seemed just for an instant he might win, the night would swallow him, conceal him. But even then he heard them pounding down on him.
He was caught up again, he was growling, screaming. They were carrying him back into that room, a man’s weight crushing him down on the pallet.
He sank his teeth into muscle and hair, and convulsed with all his strength, as he felt his legs forced apart, hearing the cloth rip even before the cold air touched his nakedness.
“NOOOO!” he was roaring between clenched teeth, and then the