by Karen Brooks
Unhappy that the art he so loved was being used to maim and hurt, he turned his attentions to something that would help people rather than destroy them. He decided to pursue what all alchemists had dreamed of discovering since Serenissima had been marshland – the secret of turning base metal into gold.
In order to follow his dream, Antonio needed more money. Although he and Lizzetta had enjoyed the fruits of success, his refusal to equip the Doge's arsenal any longer meant his fortune quickly ran dry. Gone also was his popularity. His wife's family refused to contribute anything further to what they perceived as their son-in-law's disloyalty to the throne.
Just when it seemed that Antonio would have to forego his work and return to making weapons, a wealthy merchant from the Traders Quartiere heard about his new gold-making venture and agreed to help. This merchant loaned Antonio a vast sum of money to continue his experiments on the proviso that he be repaid with interest and a share in the results. He gave Antonio twelve months.
'That was almost two years ago,' continued Antonio. 'I thought a year would be enough, but I learnt differently. A year is but a second –' he snapped his fingers to emphasise his point '– in my field. I was so close, so close. But this Signor Gallame, he did not understand. He measures his life in coins; he does not appreciate that, for people such as me, these things are meaningless.'
Antonio's wife was silent throughout his explanation and I wondered if she agreed with her husband.
'Anyhow,' he sighed, pausing for a moment and adjusting his cloak. 'When the twelve months had passed and I had very little to show, Gallame demanded I repay him – without delay. I explained that I needed more time – that I didn't have the money – but he wouldn't listen. He demanded we sell our possessions. We did sell some, but he wasn't satisfied. Next he insisted that we sell all my equipment, some of which has been in my family for generations. At first, I did not agree, but then he sent some friends of his to convince me.' He indicated a wound that cut along the top of his head, close to the hairline, and I noticed that the flesh around one of his eyes was puffy and yellow. My heart went out to him.
'Still Gallame is not happy. He has seen us reduced to penury. He has taken everything I need to even try to re-establish myself and my reputation, but he wants more – always more.' Antonio bowed his head.
'Even though we have nothing but a few clothes and our old gondola, we are forced to sell our beautiful casa.' Lizzetta sighed. 'Our house. After that,' she shrugged, 'we do not know what we will do.'
Antonio shook his head. 'I fear that Lizzetta may have to throw herself on the mercy of a convent. I will go to a monastery. I believe that there are some orders that still allow the practice of alchemy.'
We had been walking so slowly, stopping every now and then as the story continued, that we hadn't come very far. Pity rose in me for these two foolish people, one at least of whom believed that gold was a product of human-induced changes, and who had lost everything because of that.
'Couldn't you make the explosives again?' I asked after a while.
Antonio looked at me, a bitter smile upon his face. 'While I may have lost my material possessions pursuing a dream, at least I have not lost my soul – not this time. No. I would not. I could never consider such a thing again.'
Lizzetta squeezed his arm.
We walked in silence for a short time, crossing the small campo, passing Vincenzo di Torello's taverna. A few people entered, allowing the warm air and light inside to briefly escape and enfold us. A soft snow had begun to fall, but I barely noticed as my mind set to work. If I could help Lucia achieve her heart's desire, why couldn't I help these two? Surely, it would be a matter of just using my abilities, extracting a bit here, distilling a bit there and ensuring the merchant was present when the candle was burnt.
Before I could change my mind, I acted.
'Listen to me,' I said, holding up my arms up in front of them, forcing them to stop. They both looked surprised – Lizzetta, a little alarmed. 'I think I can help you,' I said.
Antonio laughed. 'How can you help us, boy? Look at what we've been reduced to, telling our tale to a mere candlemaker's apprentice. You are young; you still have your dreams. Treat it as a cautionary tale. Do not see it as an opportunity for heroics.'
I was a little taken back by his tone, but I persisted. 'No, you don't understand. I really can help you.'
'What can you possibly do for us except what you have already? You have listened. We cannot expect more.'
'There is something I think I can do, but you can't ask any questions. You simply have to trust me. Can you do that?' I stared at them earnestly through my spectacles.
Lizzetta looked at her husband and shrugged. She gave a small laugh. 'Why not? What else is there for us to do?'
'Good,' I replied, looking over my shoulder, making sure no-one was watching. 'You must wait here for me.'
'Out in the snow?' said Antonio, waving his arms in a circle, catching the flakes as they fell.
I wanted to slap my forehead. What was I thinking? They would freeze. I reached into my coat pocket. Tucked in a corner was a lire – a present from Katina. Insurance, she called it. Well, I had no need of it, not now anyway, whereas Antonio and Lizzetta did. I placed it in Antonio's hand and remembering what Katina had told me about being more assertive, gave commands. 'Go to the taverna and buy yourself a meal and a drink. Meet me by the well in two hours.' I pointed towards where it stood in the middle of the campo.
Before they could argue, I disappeared into the night.
As soon as I was out of their sight, I raced back home, flinging off my coat and hat and taking the stairs two at a time.
'Sorry I'm late,' I said as I barged through the door and fell into my seat at the table. Quinn and Pillar sat in silence, empty bowls before them. 'Where's Katina?' I asked, slurping the bowl of broth in front of me. It had cooled considerably but was still very tasty. Quinn just frowned at me in disgust and pushed her chair back.
'Her ladyship has taken herself off to bed. Like you, she doesn't think my fare good enough for her delicate stomach any more.'
I saw Pillar flinch at his mother's caustic words. 'That's not the way it is, Mamma, and you know it. Katina's not well,' he said. He shook his head slightly, discouraging me from asking questions.
Quinn shot him a poisonous look and took her empty plate to the basin, throwing it in the water. 'You're always defending that woman, Pillar. I tell you that some things, like ingratitude, are indefensible!'
'Katina is grateful for your food, Mamma. We all are.'
Overcoming my surprise that Pillar had dared to contradict his mother, I simply nodded agreement and finished my soup. My eyes drifted towards the curtained area where Katina's bed lay. Ever since she'd arrived at the house, she'd taken Pillar's bed. He stayed up in the attic with me. It wasn't just in name and clothing we maintained my gender pretence. Even our sleeping arrangements gave nothing away.
Katina must have been feeling very ill to turn down food. She'd always had an extraordinary appetite. Still, Katina's absence meant that I had only Pillar and Quinn to persuade. How I was not only going to justify returning to the workshop, but also create a candle that would overturn Antonio and Lizzetta's misfortune? I ate slowly, mulling over my dilemma. Quinn was sitting by the fire. She pulled her tin on to her lap and began counting the day's earnings. An idea started to flower. Summoning up the courage, I laid the foundations of my deception.
'Pillar,' I began cautiously. 'You know those people I directed to the campo ...'
'Nice people.' Pillar was definitely distracted. He never even saw them.
'Well, they were quite well off. Came to our shop from the Alchemists Quartiere, can you believe it? Said our fine reputation brought them all this way. Anyhow, they've commissioned us to make them a whole batch of candles – beeswax, too.'
'Is that right?' Pillar was watching his mother distractedly.
'Yes. And, because these candles are extra, you know, on
top of the back orders we already have to fill, I thought I might get started on them now, tonight, as soon as I've finished eating. That is, if it's all right with you.' I held my breath.
'What?' said Pillar, suddenly snapping to attention.
My heart sank.
'What commission?'
'Oh, for a batch of candles – a dozen beeswax, to be precise.' My cheeks started to reflect the magnitude of my lie. I prayed he wouldn't notice.
'Beeswax?' repeated Quinn, forever alert when money was at stake. She dropped the coins she was counting in her lap.
'Yes,' I said slowly. I turned to face her.
'And they came here? From the Alchemists Quartiere?'
'That's right,' I replied eagerly. My idea was coming together nicely. 'I thought I might get started on their candles tonight so they don't interfere with our other orders.'
Pillar shook his head. 'No, Tallow. You work too hard as it is. Katina and I have been doing a lot of talking lately –' His mother shot him a sour look. Pillar cleared his throat. 'She's made it very clear to me how important it is that we take care of you – make sure you don't overwork yourself. These candles can wait. Anyhow, you have to rise early. All being well, you and Katina are going to the markets, or have you forgotten?' He seemed not to care whether I had or not. His eyes drifted to the curtained-off corner where Katina slept and he frowned.
'No, I hadn't.' While I was looking forward to going to the markets that took place each week in the piazzetta between the Candlemakers and Chandlers Quartieri, Pillar's response made me despondent – and a little desperate. I'd asked Antonio and Lizzetta to wait for me – I had to get my hands on some candles tonight!
'If the boy wants to work, let him!' said Quinn suddenly.
I couldn't believe it. Support when I least expected it, and from a usually antagonistic quarter.
'But Mamma –'
'No buts. Seems our reputation's spreading nicely. Let it spread even further. Tallow's young and full of energy. Let him work.' She ran her fingers through the coins.
Pillar shrugged. 'All right, then ... if that's what you think should happen.' Once again, his eyes drifted to where Katina slept and then back to his mother.
'It's all right, Pillar,' I said, 'I don't need you to supervise me. I'm all right on my own. Can I make a start?'
It was then I did something that I'd never done before, at least never with such intention.
While I knew I wasn't to use my talents on humans, at least not until Katina had taught me how, I was confident that my touch was light enough that I could at least try. After all, I only wanted a tiny bit, a fraction of the sadness and division emanating from Pillar's every pore. I reached out and gently touched his hand, which was splayed on the table. I drew from Pillar, anxious to see if he noticed anything.
He didn't flinch or speak. Preoccupied, he just stared blankly ahead. After a moment, he simply moved his hand out of my reach.
Suppressing my excitement, I rose to my feet and took my plate to the basin, washing it quickly and placing it back in the cupboard. I took a deep breath. I knew what I wanted to do next, but my courage began to desert me. Then I thought of Antonio and Lizzetta. They needed me to be brave. So I moved towards the stairs making sure that as I left the room, I brushed Quinn's shoulder. 'Thank you,' I said, letting my fingers rest momentarily on the coarse wool of her shawl, extracting from her as she counted her coins. If she knew what I'd just done, I would be beaten within an inch of my life – Katina or no Katina.
Full of exultation, more than a little pride and other emotions that I didn't dare unravel, I crept down the stairs. I knew what I wanted to do was a gamble. But something told me it was also the right thing. I was ready to start making my own decisions. Use my candlemaking and other abilities to help those I wanted to – and not just for money.
I don't know where I'd come up with the story about an order of beeswax candles and I knew, as I entered the workshop, that I'd be in a great deal of trouble when they discovered the order didn't actually exist. But I would worry about that later. For now, my falsehood had succeeded in giving me time on my own. All I needed now was to find a perfectly good tallow candle and, while they still resided in my heart and mind, distil the essences of Quinn's avarice and Pillar's empathy for Katina and anxiety about his mother.
I RETURNED TO THE HOUSE some time after midnight, filled with the same glow of satisfaction I'd experienced that morning when I heard the results of my first attempt to help people.
Antonio and Lizzetta had been waiting for me as asked. Antonio unwrapped the candle and then burst into hysterical laughter. 'A candle! What can this possibly do, boy? Look, Lizzetta, the boy asks us to put our miserable lives on hold, and what for? A candle!' He laughed so hard he cried. 'For a moment there, I was stupid enough to believe in you.' He composed himself, wiped his eyes and sighed. 'May God love and protect you, boy. A candle!'
I hadn't thought about how ridiculous it would look. I shifted uncomfortably in the snow. 'I know it doesn't seem like much, but I'm sure some people would doubt the efficacy of your powders and potions, too,' I said.
Antonio paused and looked at me intently. 'That's true.'
'Well, candlemaking is an art that also has its secrets. Ones I cannot share. Please, from one craftsman to another, do as I ask. Invite the merchant to your house and, while he's there, make sure to burn the candle. It can't make things any worse, can it?'
They didn't say a word.
I didn't escort them back to their gondola. Instead, I watched them depart the campo, the falling snow soon obscuring them from view.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A sudden departure
IT WAS A SLEEPLESS NIGHT for Tallow. Before dawn, she rose and stole onto the rooftop. Chasing away her nocturnal demons, she watched as dawn infused the Dolomites, drinking in the pleasures of the changing sky with its soft blush tones. She tried to absorb the atmosphere around her, a precursor to the candlemaking she knew awaited: doves cooing in their nests before winging their way towards the last stubborn stars clinging to the dawn, the faint strains of gondoliers singing as they hauled their cargo along the canals, the chanting of the padres at morning prayers. Turning slightly, she gazed in the direction of the campo, the telltale steeple of the basilica rising above any other building. Today she would have the leisure of strolling among the markets there and, if Katina allowed, bartering with the vendors as well.
Once the sun had begun to spread its thin fingers across Serenissima, Tallow headed downstairs to wake Katina. Approaching the curtain cautiously, she called softly. 'Hey, sleepyhead, get up. We're going to the markets today!'
There was no reply.
'Katina, are you all right?' said Tallow. With a feeling of foreboding, she gently parted the curtain. The Bond Rider lay on her back, arms by her side, legs together. Except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest, she didn't move.
Taking a cautious step towards the bed, Tallow noticed that Katina's breathing was loud and shallow.
'Katina. What is it? What's wrong?' Unable to see her mentor clearly, she flung open the casement window. Turning back towards Katina, she froze.
Lying in the bed was an old woman.
'Wh– what – who?' began Tallow, her voice betraying her rising panic.
The old woman raised a trembling hand. 'T– Tallow. It's me.'
Tallow bent over and peered at her closely.
Her jaw dropped. 'Katina,' whispered Tallow. 'It is you. But how is this possible? Your face!'
Tallow knelt beside the bed. Katina tried to raise her wizened hands, but she couldn't even lift them off the quilt. She gave a few moist coughs before settling into a harsh wheeze.
