From the bell tower in Piazza San Marco the vesper (6pm) bells rang, signaling for the tutors to wrap up their lessons - half the boys learning to read as they studied printed copies of the poems that the older boys were taking turns reciting from memory. There were 15 boys in all, but in the class just 14 this evening - a certain redhead was noticeably absent from the lesson - indeed, heâd missed every lesson since lunch, as seemed to happen more and more these days whenever the Master was expected to be away, as he was this evening.
Who could blame him for wanting to explore the narrow streets with the strong breeze off the ocean, cooling the stockyard where the ships were built by day, it was quite the sight to see. Riccardo had introduced him to the shipyard, something they could sit and watch together even when they didnât have the shared language to make conversation beyond a few short phrases of practiced pleasantries, But Riccardo rarely came with him these days - he had an example to set for the others, he couldnât just skip lectures with the same abandon. But Riccardo was always there, awake, and ready to open the door for him when he returned.
And so Amadeo might have expected it to go tonight. But little did he know that while he let himself get lost in the evening streets of Venice - taking in the sights, the sounds, and the pleasures the city had to offer, the Master had returned unexpectedly to join the boys at the long wooden table as they ate. There was conversation, discussion of their lessons, talk of the theatre and shows they would like to see if the Master would give them leave to do so. All through dinner Riccardoâs eyes continued to stray to the front door, hoping Amadeo would return only a little late⊠but it wasnât to be.
The sound of splashing and happy chatter as the boys readied for bed was a stark contrast to the somber conversation Marius and Riccardo had in the hallway that night. The Master asking about Amadeoâs whereabouts and Riccardo doing his best to answer honestly without incriminating his good friend. No matter what came out of Riccardoâs mouth though, Marius got the thruth from his anxious thoughts.Â
Marius distracted himself with seeing the boys to their beds, lingering at each bed to give the two or three boys there a chance to say what they would - and also to gleam from their thoughts what came to mind that they didnât dare say.
By the time the compline (9pm) bells rang the boys were asleep - except Riccardo, who sat anxiously next to the window, his chin resting on his arms against the window sill as he watched for any sign of the returning Amadeo.
No one would know it but but, anxious for Amadeoâs safety Marius had left the house for about an hour, searching Amadeo out⊠and indeed, he found his apprentice, though when he found him intoxicated and -ahem- occupied, he had opted simply to return home and wait, to see exactly when his cherub would return of his own accord.
And so, when the Matins (midnight) bells rang, Marius was sitting in the dark at the long wooden table, he was in his high-backed chair, a plate of food sitting on the table in front of the bench to his right.
Riccardoâs vantage point allowed him to see a lon gways down the allies below, and he was so adedpt at spotting Amadeoâs inebriated gaite in the torchlight that he saw him coming even before Marius sensed him. Riccardoâs bare feet carried him quickly down the stairs to the front door, he was almost there when he heard Marius speak. âWhat are you doing, Riccardo?â The question was serious, though the tone was slightly amused.Â
Riccardo turned to see Marius in the shadows, going a bit pale himself. ââŠOpening the door for Amadeo, Master.â
Marius laughed quietly to himself, Amadeo had convinced Riccardo to go from tutor to accomplice, it seemed. âYes, what a nice idea - please, open the door for your brother, and then it is well past when you should have been asleep. Open the door and go to bed.â
And so Riccardo pulld back the bolt on the door and cracked it open, peeking out the door, confirming that Amadeo was not far away - he wanted to warn him, to suggest that he straighten his clothes and sober up as much as he could while walking that last half a block, but he suspected that wouldnât be well received. Any other night, Riccardo would have waited at the door for Amadeo to step in, but tonight he was already at the base of the stairs, his slender back turned to Amadeo when he entered as he heading up to the upper level of the palazzo to return to his room, though he doubted he would sleep well.
Even if he was still a little inebriated, Amadeo would surely sense that something was different tonight - why was Riccardo already half way up the stairs, and was it his imagination or did this entry way feel colder than the warm streets he had just left?
âWe saved you a plate, Amadeo. Come, eat.â
Such kind words in such a stern tone. Heâd recognize the voice instantly of course, and ifhe approached the table in the shadows heâd see there was a plate with two filets of fish and seasoned rice - both cold now. Beside the plate was a large cup of water.Â
And of course , in that chair not far away was the Master himself. His long gold hair shined even in the dark and his pale features could be made out at a short distance, but even before his face was clearly visible, his blue eyes shown slightly in the dark. While his blue eyes had been warmly regarding the younger boys not long before, they were like ice now as they regarded his very own prodigal child.
Though he would gestured to the seat for Amadeo to sit, and to the food to encourage him to eat, he would say nothing at first, leaving it to Amadeo to break the silence.
amandla
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
germansingergirl
