Tannhauser 02: The Twelve Children of Paris
Page 77
‘You loved horses. And I’d say they loved you, and I’d not blame them. You found my daughter in the darkest night. You put Carla in my arms. You were with me, you stayed with me, you guided me, through blood and death and thunder, and you never flinched. If we two never had met, you’d still be loving horses. But though my heart be breaking I’ll not lie. I wouldn’t wish it otherwise. I’ve nothing that suits the purpose to dig with, so I’m going to leave you here, in the wilderness, to be eaten by wild beasts and birds. I’d expect the same. A warrior’s grave, we call it. And never more bravely earned.’
Tannhauser took in Grégoire’s face, for he wouldn’t get the chance again.
The boy was as ugly in death as he’d been in life.
‘Call him the most beautiful.’
Tannhauser lowered his head and let grief consume him.
He didn’t know for how long.
He heard the laughter of girls and raised his head from his chest.
He found Carla kneeling beside him. She took his hand.
Amparo slept in the cradle of her arm.
‘Carla. You have never looked more lovely.’
‘I hope that’s another tender falsehood.’
‘It is not.’
‘We miss you. The children miss you.’
‘It doesn’t sound like they do.’
‘I think they’re laughing about you.’
Tannhauser grinned.
‘Let me hold my daughter. Amparo.’
Tannhauser took the babe. She rode well on his arm. He felt like she belonged there. And so did Amparo. After all, she did. So tiny. So extreme. So there.
Amparo was.
‘What’s Grégoire holding?’ asked Carla.
Tannhauser had forgotten about the package.
He took it from Grégoire’s hand.
‘We bought it for you and the nightingale, he and I. Grégoire never let go of it.’
He gave the package to Carla.
She pulled the ribbon and opened it and held up the robe.
It was striped with dark stains.
‘It’s a little big,’ said Tannhauser, ‘but she’ll grow into it.’
‘It’s charming. I love it.’
She kissed him. He looked at her.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t with you,’ he said. ‘I should have been.’
Her eyes filled and he knew that she agreed.
She smiled and, despite that she agreed, he believed what she said.
‘You were always with me.’
He stood up and took her hand and pulled her to him. He put his arm around her waist. They walked back to the camp through the green morning.
There were a thousand bodies in the river more deserving of the privilege than he, and another in the glade for whom he would have died, but Tannhauser was alive to watch his daughter suck the milk from her mother’s breast. He sat down by the fire with Amparo in his arm and she stared at him while he ate, and he took pains to make a fool of himself, and the children laughed at him.
The Mice.
Estelle.
Pascale.
Orlandu.
Carla, the woman of his life.
Amparo cooed and he looked down.
Tannhauser laughed, too.
He had come a long way to spend but a day in the greatest city in the world. Now it was a long road home. But he gave thanks to Death and the Devil, and to Fortuna, blindfold or not, for the treasures he had discovered and the wonders he had been shown, for the dance he had been led upon and the songs he had sung in his soul, for the wagers won and the wagers lost, for the sight of his woman’s bliss, for the love chiselled deep in the stone of his heart by the Twelve Children of Paris.
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Published by Jonathan Cape 2013
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Copyright © Tim Willocks 2013
Tim Willocks has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
Jonathan Cape
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Map by Darren Bennett; adapted from ‘Map of Paris, 1572’, by Braun and Hogenberg, reproduced by permission of the National Library of Israel.
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