Chapter 21
Just arriving at the Malpensa Airport in Milan Ivo decided to notify his family. He was afraid of the emotional reactions that his arrival could cause to his mother and the recriminations of his father, after not having returned to the hometown in more than two years and not communicating by any means in six months.
Fortunately the one was who took his phone call, was his youngest brother, Matteo, with whom he had always been united by a bond of friendship and complicity, beyond the bonds of blood. At the request of Ivo the boy repressed a cry of surprise as he spoke to his brother.
"Listen Matteo, do not tell Mom I'm already in Milan because the emotion can be very strong. Tell her I called and I'm going to go see you and only when you see she calmed down tell her that I'm at the Airport.”
"I'll go pick you in the car!" The boy's enthusiasm was evident even over the phone. Ivo reflected that the last time he had seen him, he had not learned to drive, so his sense of guilt over his prolonged absence increased.
“Don´t do that! Just do what I ask and try to calm Dad too so he does not receive me with a barrage of reproaches.”
Ivo decided to take a tour of the city center before going home to allow time for the storms to burst. When he arrived, he not only found his parents and Matteo, but also his sister Roberta had come with her children from Legnano to see him.
If Riccardo Bianchi had prepared some philippic to administer to his son it had dissolved in the course of the encounter and in front of the emotion of the mother who even muttered some prayer. The hard Lombard townsman could scarcely conceal a tear. Finally Chiara, the sister, who given the affectionate situation of the mother had taken the role of housewife and prepared the lunch called to sit at the table, place where ultimately all outstanding accounts in Italy are settled
"It cannot be ... Come on!" Matteo had his eyes wide open and could hardly believe his ears when his brother recounted the vicissitudes experienced in the deserts and mountains of western China, in particular the attack of the helicopter and its surprising culmination.
Anna Bianchi suffered from hearing the risks run by her son and did not miss the opportunity to come and go to the kitchen to avoid hearing the most dangerous parts, while Riccardo fumbled his mustache wondering whether or not to rejoice the adventurous life of his son, But it was undoubtedly Matteo and the two little nephews who sipped every word that came out of Ivo's mouth as if it were the Gospel.
The meeting lasted until supper, when Chiara and her children returned to Legnano. Then Anna told her son.
"You will not think of going to Venice tonight. You have your room available as always and surely there will be clothes that still fit you, particularly as you have lost weight. I see you thin and emaciated.”
"No doubt due to the trip, since I could only sleep at times and eat irregularly. I skipped many meals.”
"Why do not you stay home for a while, at least until you've recovered physically?"
"I cannot do that Mamma. I have to rejoin my job. I must give signs of life to keep it and I have tons of reports to make.
Matteo walked Ivo to his old room and finding so many objects loaded with his own personal story loosened the temper of the boy who had gone through all kinds of contingencies in the East.
When he was alone, he retrieved the cell phone he had bought from a kiosk in the Vittorio Emanuele II Gallery and dialed the telephone number from Federica's house he still remembered by heart. When no answer was obtained he then tried her cell phone. The familiar voice of the woman warned him from the answering machine that she was not available and asked the caller to leave a message. Hearing her voice produced a bittersweet feeling in Ivo's mouth. Due to the emotional block he did not respond immediately so he had to dial again and then speak.
“Hello dear. I'm Ivo. I'm at my parents' house in Milan. Tomorrow I travel to Venice by surface.”
Federica Dolfin was at a conference in Lausanne when she felt the buzz of the cell phone in her purse. She snatched it away and peered into the dim light of the room. As she could not distinguish very well the numbers she put on her glasses and intrigued because her phone did not recognize the calling number she opened the message box. Her heart skipped a beat as she learned it came from Ivo and had to leave the conference room to read the short text over and over again.
Back to Beijing and after going to her gynecologist Lian entered her small apartment and left her clothes properly folded and her wallet on the usual table. Years in the army had disciplined the young peasant girl in the Mongol village and had acquired a new personality with which she was comfortable. This new woman had triumphed in practically all the challenges that she had imposed herself, in professional, cultural and also in her personal and affective life. The doctor had confirmed this last assertion.
Lian sat on the couch with her notebook on her lap ready to do a long exposure by email, but this time the recipient was not Colonel Chang.
The machine had the Western alphabet to which she was also accustomed. The girl entered the browser and the mail once there looked in the directory ibianchi user. The fact that she belonged to the intelligence service guaranteed that her mails would not be intercepted or filtered.
She spent almost half an hour writing, correcting and adding until it seemed to her that all the topics she wanted to convey were adequately exposed but still without sending the message. Lian stopped, took a glass of water and walked around the work table. Then sat down again and reread the message. At halfway she was convinced that despite the issues dealt with it sounded too much like an intelligence report. The woman erased the whole text and started all over again without paying much attention to order or spelling, but making sure that the contents of her heart were clearly exposed. Without re-reading her writing she pressed the Send key and closed the laptop.
Chapter 22
He opened the apartment door using a key he had always left in his parents' house and brought it back from Milan. Ivo had called three times during the trip to Venice and had not gotten a response so that it was not surprising that the apartment was empty. Everything was in order and the first thing he did was open the refrigerator and find that it was full, which gave him relief since he had not eaten since dinner at his family's house the night before. He prepared what he could easily and quickly eat, since he had no cook's talents.
Then he called Federica's cell phone but the answering machine again informed him that she was not available. He looked in the agenda that the woman always kept updated on the telephone table and read that it had the notation "Lausanne" crossing the columns until the following day. This check informed him of his her whereabouts.
He then dialed the number of Meryem Mahjoub, the young Moroccan woman with whom he had had a fluctuating but ardent relationship. The girl answered immediately and her voice showed joy of talking to Ivo, although the boy thought he felt a certain reserve.
"I'd like to see you," The man said with a trace of anxiety in his voice.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
"Well, come at six in the afternoon.”
Ivo was going to make some erotic commentary as he always did to finish his conversations with the young woman, but this time he refrained from doing so thinking that he would have to win back the privacy that had been discontinued for several months.
Meryem was waiting for him, dressed in a vaporous negligee, her lips painted a bright red that contrasted with her dark complexion. There was no doubt that the girl was under the pressure of hormones as much as Ivo, who had gone through a long abstinence since his departure with Bo from the Zhou house.
They lay side by side, exhausted and satisfied. Meryem had asked the young man to tell her about his experiences in China and she still doubted the veracity of his story.
“You're exaggerating! You want to look like a hero to impress me. I never thought you'd make such nonsense.”
"No, Meryem. Everything I have told you is strictly true. Wi
th you I do not need to pretend I am something you know I am not.”
The woman rolled over on the bed looking away so Ivo could not see her face.
"I have something to tell you too." Her tone was repressed.
“I am listening.”
“I'm getting married.”
"What!" The man had jumped up on the bed. "Tell me you're joking!"
Meryem looked him in the face again with a slightly frightened gesture.
“It's true. There is a fifty-year-old man from Naples who is a customer of the shop where I work. He declared a month ago and we've been planning the wedding all this time. He has now rented a bigger apartment and it he is furnishing it. The wedding is scheduled for a month from now.”
“Is he rich?”
"No, but he has a good life. He says he wants me to stop working because he wants to have children soon.”
Ivo was quite stunned by the unexpected news but deep down he could not hide that he was glad for the girl, for whom he had a feeling of tenderness
“Well, Meryem. I guess that's the best thing for you.”
"That's what I've been wanting since I came from Morocco. I've always been in love with you but a while ago I realized that you are unreachable. I must build my life with realism.”
The young man sat up and gently stroking her face expressed.
"It will cost me to get used to the idea that you will not be in my life anymore. I guess this was the last time we were together.”
Meryem smirked and took his hand and dragged him back to the bed.
“You never know. But now come with me, the night is not over yet.”
As he returned to his house the boy was meditating on what he was finding on his return to Italy. With respect to the young Moroccan had mixed feelings. On the one hand he felt losing a female company with which he had given free rein to all his instincts and fulfilled all his erotic fantasies. But on the other hand he appreciated the girl and was glad that she could re-orient her life, besides ... also her departure somehow helped him to simplify his sentimental life, which had become very complicated since his trip to China. Ivo tried not to think about Lian but deep down he knew that he was deeply in love with the woman, and since he had begun to meditate on his love situation he had not been able to reach valid decisions, the kind that would delimit the course of his own lifetime. He had no doubt that he loved Federica too, and he could hardly imagine living without her. As a by- product of his success with women and of his own sentimental immaturity Ivo was in an unresolved situation, with no clear options or rather strong mutually exclusive options.
As he entered the palazzo's apartment he found that Federica had already returned. Still clad in her traveling clothes, she lunged at his neck and kissed his face. The excitement of the reunion was very intense for both of them and they hugged during a long time standing in the middle of the living room without speaking a word. Finally the woman took off the jacket she was still wearing and took off her shoes. Taking Ivo by the hand she lead him and sat down in a large armchair. Instead of sitting next to Federica the young man sat on the floor in front of her and taking one of her small feet in his hands kissed it.
"I always knew you would return to me." Federica's deep voice brought a wave of memories to the young man's memory. At that moment he knew that the bond between them was capable of overcoming time and distance.
They spent the rest of the week as foreign lovers newly arrived in Venice, walking their canals, strolling along Piazza San Marco, holding hands, sitting in their cafes watching the contingents of tourists, being carried by gondoliers who did not understand why two people who spoke with a Venetian accent and who knew every corner of the city hired their services and sat embracing to admire the landscapes as if it were their first afternoon in the city.
On one of the footpaths they climbed a steep bridge and stood at the highest point looking at the extremely slow flow of water and the color of all types of boats that circulated along the canal. Federica stared into his eyes, as their lips were drawing close. The long kiss gave rise to roguish commentary in several languages and was even photographed to be displayed on the projectors of various countries.
Venice can inspire romantic feelings not only for first-time visitors.
Chapter 23
Ivo woke up early that morning. He had had many different dreams that had ended in nightmare, although he could not remember its exact content since the only thing that he could rebuild was its general dramatic atmosphere. He was in a place that was vaguely familiar and trying to get back home but the search was elusive and he went deeper and deeper into wholly unknown areas until he got caught in a kind of terrifying whirlwind that turned with increasing speed. When he got up he found himself transpired and agitated. Ivo probed with his hand and felt the body of Federica next to him on the bed so he calmed down as his mind returned to reality. When the woman felt touched, she groaned and turned, facing him but not waking.
The young man got up and went to the kitchen where he prepared a light coffee. Leaning against the wall as he sipped, Ivo considered the effect of the Venetian lady in his life and his restless mind could not but compare that effect with the ones caused by the other two women. So, he thought without being able to avoid a smile, Meryam was a blast of fire, Federica was a soft and warm bed and Lian ... Lian was a tight rope. The man was so abstracted in his reflections that he was completely surprised when he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. An enigmatic smile was on the woman´s lips and the young man rushed to kiss her. But she slowed him down.
“Wait. Today we have the appointment with Count Confalone. We must be presentable to him. Part of your future depends on the outcome of this interview.”
The Cavaliere Enrico Mario Luigi Alessandro Giulio Confalone was seated in his large old armchair, on whose back and on the wall a large emblem was visible displaying the coat of arms of the old family to which he belonged. A native of Naples the man was part of a noble lineage from Campania that had lost over the course of time all that had once been their agrarian properties and were now constrained to survive by public employment and professional activities.
Enrico Confalone had created in his hometown a study of heraldry and genealogy that was among the best reputed in his specialty, plagued by charlatans and scoundrels. He was also the director of the Fondazione Italiana per gli Studi Storici Superiori, which received important state, regional and private subsidies. The institution had carried out important historical studies in the region of the Veneto and was recognized by its findings.
The Cavaliere rose from his chair and approached to greet his visitors and kissed Federica's hand.
"I understand you brought a digital presentation." He told Ivo. As the young man answered affirmatively the Count added.
"Let's go to the meeting room, there you have all the projection elements you need.”
Ivo presented an exposition in Power Point that began with the historical data proven from the battle of Carrhae against the Parthians and went later in the diverse hypotheses on the destiny of the Roman legion surviving in the heartland of Central Asia and afterwards in the territory of the Celestial Empire. A series of recordings of interviews with curators of the museums he had visited with Lian translated by the woman provided an objective view of the state of knowledge and hypotheses about the fate of the legionaries. Finally a series of photos and films of Lian collecting testimonies of inhabitants of Liqian explaining the traditions that had arrived to them by oral transmission and going back to the mythical Roman legion completed the exhibition. All the graphic and sonorous material had been jealously guarded and safeguarded by Ivo in all the contingencies of his hazardous voyage. Confalone asked the boy to go back to the photos exhibiting the physical features of the Liqian villagers and approached the screen to appreciate them better.
"Possibly the Roman troops included numerous legionaries of Germanic origin."He then concluded. "There is no doubt that there has been a substantial contribution of
European genes there, consistent with an important contingent of men, and not just ordinary travelers.
The professor considered for a moment and his eyes glowed.
"What's in your mind Enrico?" Asked Federica.
"I cannot stop thinking about these men two thousand years ago, separated from their homes and their known universe by thousands of miles, lost in a strange world, defeated and driven to flight by the Parthian Empire, wandering through territories full of hostile bands and in permanent conflicts, surviving only by force of their courage and military abilities.”
"To survive they had to be hired as mercenaries for various employers." Observed objectively Ivo, who immediately regretted his words.
"Only way to survive in that time and place," answered the Cavaliere. "Let's go back to my office."
The secretary offered them coffee and while they sipped it Confalone expressed.
“Excellent material although of course is not conclusive. We will consider this as an object of open research, of which we will try to collect more data in the future.”
Then he spoke through the intercom and asked the secretary not to send any calls in the following half hour.
"I'm going to tell you about the future of the Foundation.”
Given the tone of confidentiality of the old man Federica and Ivo paid close attention.
"I'm going to be eighty-six, and as you know, I have my studio in Naples. I came almost half a century ago to Venice to manage the institution, but the trips back and forth are too heavy for me, so I've decided to retire.”
"You well deserve it." Said Federica, who had always admired the Cavaliere's energy.
“Thank you. Well, the point is that I must make a proposal to the Board of Directors about my succession.”
At that moment he paused, no doubt in order to spur the curiosity of his interlocutors. Then he went on to address the issue directly.
The Challenge of the Legion Page 10
