The Alchemist of Rome

by M C Dulac

  She nodded and blushed again and then she was gone into the hedges. I was sure no one had seen us. I wondered who she was, and who else was staying in the villa.

  I returned to the palazzo. I watched from the window, but did not see our beautiful neighbour again.

  I heard Price working in the cellar at sunset. When I joined him, he was hammering the pipes leading to the furnace. He ran up a set of steps and peered into the vat. The liquid inside gave his face a golden glow. I ignored the uneasiness that crept over me as I remembered my conversation with Schumann.

  “It is going well, Antonio,” he said, “We can begin full production soon.”

  Price had hung a black curtain across one wall of the cellar. There was a large empty space for whatever came out of the vat.

  “The Duke will send workmen when the shipment is ready,” Price said, “They will load the crates and lower them into the cove.”

  “It is a long way down, sir,” I peered into the shaft.

  “Come, let us look.”

  Price opened the trapdoor. A treacherous set of steps was carved into the rock. Price carried a lantern, and by its wavering light we began climbing down to the cove. The steps curved around the wall of the cavern, taking us far into the cliff. The air was cool and damp, with an overwhelming smell of the sea.

  Inky black water lapped beneath us. At the base of the steps was a rough-hewn passage, which opened onto a huge cave. A dock had been built along one side of the cave, large enough for several ships. The entrance to the cave was a natural arch, as high as a cathedral window.

  Moonlight sprinkled on the sea beyond. The great body of water stretched before us, surging against the cave walls. The noise was deafening as it echoed around the high roof in an odd slapping music.

  The cobblestones were covered with slime. Price kicked the moss that covered the moorings.

  “The dock is in bad shape,” Price shook his head, “But the tide has kept the passage free of weeds. We can get the workmen to clear the moss when they arrive.”

  Deep storage bays were carved into the cavern walls. We peered inside.

  Price kept talking, more to himself than to me, “It is too damp to store the crates here. They will have to be lowered on the day the fleet arrives. That means the crates must be packed and transported in a few hours,” he raked his hands through his hair, “I will write to the Duke and ask for extra men.”

  We walked around the ancient dock one more time, then climbed up the pirate steps. In the cellar, Price stared into the golden mixture and dipped a long ladle into it. It glistened and rolled against the sides of the vat. Could it really turn into solid gold? I tried to believe otherwise, and convince myself it was just a metal. Maybe Price was making weapons for the Duke. Making swords was much safer than making gold.

  We worked for an hour or more. At last we ascended the stairs to the palazzo and Price locked the cellar door.

  I rarely lit the chandeliers in the palazzo. I saw well in the dark now, as did Price, an ability I’d developed after drinking the elixir. As usual, I roamed the halls, checking the doors and windows were locked. I found Price standing near the desk in the sitting room. He was reading a letter in the darkness, although he had not lit any candles.

  He glanced at me as I entered the room. Suspicion fell across his face. I lowered my head quickly. Did my eyes glow blue like his? I could see he was confused. He knew I had no chance to get close to his elixirs, for he was in the cellar every day. But he did not know about the spare key to his laboratory in Rome. My guilt at drinking the elixir returned.

  “Perhaps you should rest, Antonio,” Price said slowly, “There is no need to share my odd hours. You should rise in the mornings and eat,” he paused, as though he suddenly noticed the darkness, “And light the candles in the hall to show you the way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Price was about to speak again, when our attention was caught by movement below.

  The beautiful stranger was strolling in the gardens with an elderly man. They came to the terrace above the sea. The girl leaned on the balustrade. The moonlight caught her sweet face as she breathed in the night air.

  I cleared my throat, “I believe we have neighbours, sir. The young lady was wandering in the gardens today. She is staying in the villa.”

  I thought Price would be annoyed. Instead, he was gazing at the young woman. I did not dare say anything about her, as Price was not the sort of master to banter with. It was clear we were both intrigued by this beautiful stranger.

  “The lawns join on the lower terrace and the boundary is unclear. I can tell them not to trespass.”

  “There is no harm in strolling. They seem to be enjoying the night view.”

  “I hope this won’t cause problems for your work, sir.”

  “No, the process is underway now. Maybe I have been working too hard.”

  “If they are neighbours, they might want to visit.”

  “Perhaps it will be good to have company.”

  I hid my smile. Not only had the beautiful stranger saved me from Price’s questions, but perhaps she would have a beautiful maid to wait on her.

  However, when our new neighbours came to visit the next afternoon, they were accompanied by a grim old woman, who watched her young charge with an eagle eye.

  I announced their arrival to Price. He went upstairs. When he came down to greet them, he had changed into a dark blue frock coat, lace cravat and fine breeches. He cut a handsome figure.

  We all sat in the drawing room looking over the sea. Price sat in the shadows, while the sunlight fell on our charming visitors.

  As we had no servants, I had to serve the tea. I placed some sugar sweets on a silver tray, heated the water, put tea leaves in the pot and selected the finest cups in the pantry. Luckily Price knew what to do when I rolled the ungainly apparatus into the drawing room. I stood by the door, hands behind my back, as Price chatted to our guests.

  The elderly man explained that he was Alberto Gianetti, a friend of the Duchess, and the girl was his niece, Carissa.

  “Carissa has come from a convent in Naples. She is in my care now she is of age. As her only living relative, I find myself with a great responsibility.”

  “And you do a fine job, uncle,” Carissa said.

  “I fear you need a female influence, my dear. The Duchess is very keen to introduce Carissa to society, Signor Price, when we journey to Rome.”

  Carissa stared straight past me. I understood. I did not want to embarrass Carissa, after her mistake the previous day. How could she have known I was a servant? She had just come from the shelter of a convent.

  Price was remarkably charming and at ease. When he wasn’t fretting over his potions, or stirring the vat in the basement, he was a good-looking man. I wondered why he did not dress up more often. Carissa shot him shy glances.

  “And what do you do, Signor Price?” Gianetti asked.

  “I am a man of science.”

  Gianetti nodded politely, neither overly interested or bored.

  Price relaxed. Perhaps he was relieved that Gianetti had no questions. I certainly was, after surviving Schumann’s inquisition on the boat.

  “There are so many fine villas in Naples,” Gianetti said, “Although the greatest garden villas are outside the city. Do you know there is a tax on shade in Naples? That is why there are so few trees within the city walls.”

  “A tax on shade,” Price shook his head, “Our authorities will make money from anything.”

  “But let us not speak of money,” Gianetti set his teacup on the table. He swept his hand toward the sapphire bay, “For are not all the real wonders of the world, from God?”

  “Most true, sir,” Price said, gazing at Carissa.

  After tea, they went for a walk in the gardens. Price and Carissa walked ahead and Carissa hung on Price’s every word. Winter had not yet arrived, and there were a few flowers in the garden. Price picked one and gave it to her. She held it with amazement,
stroking the petals and drinking in its scent. Gianetti pointed at the plants and statues with his walking stick, until they all came to the terrace overlooking the sea.

  I walked behind with the grim chaperone. My master laughed. I had never heard him laugh before. I was glad to see him happy.

  Carissa and her uncle said goodbye and the party walked back to the villa.

  “Carissa is very charming,” Price said, as we trudged across the lawns to the palazzo, “And knowledgeable. She knew all the plants in the garden.”

  Price had done all the talking and Carissa had been a good listener. I did not want to point this out to him.

  “She has a fine figure,” I said.

  “That too,” Price raised his chin.

  I was glad that Price was finally social. The next day, he declared that he would pay a visit to the villa. We walked out of our palazzo, down the dirt road past the lemon groves, and up the drive to the villa.

  A servant greeted us. Carissa and her uncle were sitting on a terrace above the garden. Carissa served the tea. I stood against the balustrade, glancing at the fine house and the well-tended trees. My master and his friends made a nice picture.

  Their conversation was light, and there was much laughter. Carissa gazed at Price and he gazed at her.

  Afterwards, Gianetti showed Price the house. In the library, Carissa took a book from the shelf. Her graceful hand opened the pages. Price seemed enchanted. Not only was she beautiful, she shared his bookish interests. They sat in the library for a long time, as Price took out one book after the other. Carissa had a lovely laugh.

  For the next week, our lives had a new pattern. Carissa and her uncle often came to visit, or Price would visit the villa. I helped Price search the palazzo’s library for books of poetry. I often saw him reading to Carissa in the garden. She had a sweet disposition. I suppose after the quiet of the convent, she was used to a reflective life. The days were unusually warm, and that week had an unreal charm.

  But while the days were full of sunlit gardens, Price’s nights were spent in the cellar. He worked alone now. Strange smells and sounds filled the lower halls. Enormous heat came through the cellar door one evening and a mighty thud often reverberated through the night. After these strange events, I often heard Price’s footsteps, calmly walking around. I guessed he had everything under control.

  I heard him calling me at the end of the week. I opened the cellar door and found him in shirtsleeves, gazing at a light spinning in a bowl.

  “It is working, Antonio!” Price said, running from the bowl to the machine, “Never have I created a finer product.”

  I should have shared his excitement, but seeing the gold glow from the vat gave me a feeling of foreboding.

  “There can be no contamination,” he said, “Quickly sweep the floor.”

  I spent an hour sweeping and cleaning the area behind the curtain. Price did not say what he was making.

  “Are we visiting the villa tomorrow, Antonio?”

  “You have not arranged so, master.”

  “Then I will write a letter tonight, and tell them I will visit the day after. Nothing must interfere with the work now,” he stared at the glowing orb, “You may go, Antonio.”

  I tried to sleep that night, but moonbeams shone through the window. Shortly after midnight, when I could no longer resist the moon’s call, I got up and went downstairs. Price was standing by the window in the sitting room. His experiments were not the only thing on his mind. Carissa was walking alone in the gardens. She wore a loose dress, and twirled a flower in her hand. She sat down on the bench by the sea and gazed at the moon.

  The floorboard creaked when I stepped away. Price moved his head slightly, but he did not seem to mind my presence.

  “I once knew a woman who walked in the garden by moonlight,” Price said, “That was many years ago. She was a great beauty.”

  “Was she - a love of yours?”

  “A love I could never have,” Price said.

  Carissa raised the flower to her nose and breathed its scent.

  “Carissa is a sweet girl.”

  “An angel,” Price whispered.

  It was the first time I realised the strength of his feelings. It was never good when men confused their new love with a lost lover. They did not see things as they were, but elevated their new love to unattainable perfection. Love had a strange and intense power.

  I watched Carissa too, until she tired of the view and returned to the villa. I left Price alone with his thoughts and memories.

  Price locked himself away the next day and night. When I entered the cellar shortly before dawn the following day, the black curtain was drawn. Although I saw no flares, the whole room glowed with golden light. I crossed the floor with unease, as if I had stumbled across an enchanted treasure cave.

  My hopes that he was making weapons were over. There were no tools or forge. Whatever came out of the vat had gone straight behind the curtain.

  “The work is done, Antonio,” Price said.

  “And now?”

  “We wait for the Duke to send his ships.”

  “When will they arrive?”

  “A week, maybe more or maybe less.”

  “When are the workmen coming?”

  “Soon, Antonio, soon. Come, let us inspect the dock again.”

  Price and I climbed down the steps to the cove. The sea foamed against the wet rock. Price roamed up and down the dock.

  “All these ropes are rotted. I will tell the Duke to send new ones. The barnacles will need to be cleared away too. If there is a problem with docking, the ships will have to anchor in the cove while the sailors clear the sea wall.”

  “Where are the ships coming from?”

  “From the south.”

  “How many ships are coming?”

  “Three. The ships will then join the Duke’s official fleet and return together under darkness.”

  “Why such secrecy, master?”

  “It is what the Duke commands, Antonio.”

  I wondered again how Price could keep his two lives separate. Everything in the palazzo above was respectable. Down here, in the wet mossy cavern was the true dirty way we made our money. There could not be a greater contrast. The palazzo was bright and airy; the cave was dank and smelt of decay. Upstairs were Carissa and her uncle; down here we were no better than pirates.

  The sun had not risen. I watched the dark waves ripple out of the cove. I thought of the fleet and the three ships that would take the alchemist’s gold. I hoped they would arrive soon, for I had an ominous feeling.

  chapter fifteen

  The next day, Price broke his habit of staying indoors and went on a carriage ride with Carissa and her uncle. The previous night in the cavern, Price had been as flinty-eyed as the most ruthless corsair. That day, as he kissed Carissa’s hand, he was the picture of a gentleman.

  The elderly servant went with them, but there was no room in the carriage for me. Instead I went into town to chat to the girl who sold lemons in the square. If my master was going to indulge in a romance, I would too.

  The lemon girl had not forgotten me, and we flirted until her mother appeared. I bade the girl - Louisa - farewell and went on my way.

  I made my way home through the narrow passages of the town. I was tossing a lemon in the air, when a figure stepped out of a doorway. I frowned as I saw Schumann. I tried to brush past, but the big man blocked my path.

  “How are things in the palazzo?”

  “As usual, sir.”

  “And your master’s experiments?”

  I said nothing and stepped to the side, but so did he.

  “Your master has many books. Perhaps you have seen a book with a sun and moon on the spine.”

  “I do not read books, sir.”

  “I am not asking you to,” he held a leather pouch, “I will pay you handsomely if you bring the book to me.”

  “I don’t betray my master.”

  “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Pr
ice does not have this book.”

  “Maybe you should get out of my way.”

  “Be careful how you speak to your superiors, Antonio. Anyway, you are clearly too stupid to know what your master owns.”

  I pushed past him, “Let me through. Or -”

  “Or what? You will cry for help? I can get you arrested whenever I want,” Schumann leaned close, “Remember that.”

  I walked fast along the narrow passage. I had to warn Price. But Price’s work scared me, and I felt safer the less I knew about it.

  The palazzo was deserted. I ran through the gardens, and came to the lawn before the villa. Gentle music drifted over the terrace. Carissa was playing the piano in the sitting room. Price and Gianetti stood by, sublime expressions on their faces. She was the image of an angel.

  I suddenly resented Price for endangering her. He had no right to romance her, when he was in the middle of such a risky enterprise. I raced back to the palazzo. Price’s only possessions were in the cellar or the study next to his bedroom. When I could not find the book in the cellar, I ran to the study and opened the cupboards. There were the ancient books we had brought from Rome. I searched through them all, until I found the book with a sun and moon on the spine. I pulled the book from the shelf and opened a page.

  One picture showed a moonbeam piercing a bowl of liquid. I recognised Price’s notes in the margin. He had written corrections and questions throughout the book.

  As I flipped through the pages, my heart sank. This was no ordinary book of science. It was full of magical symbols and strange words. I knew enough to know that it was a book of forbidden alchemy.

  I did not like Schumann’s threats. If the cellar were full of forged gold, Price and I would both be arrested. I wished the ships would arrive soon. Then we could return to Rome, safely away from the authorities in Naples.

  I looked through the window and saw Price and Carissa walking on the lawn. Carissa linked her arm through his and gazed at him with trusting eyes.

  A letter had arrived that day, with the Duke’s seal. I held it over a candle, trying to melt the wax, but I could not open the letter without breaking the seal. Instead I gave the letter to Price when he walked up the terrace steps. He took it away and read it quickly.