anner.bloodandgold(v2)-第74节

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　　　So　it　is　with　me　and　the　night　of　Bianca's　most　supreme　feast；　and　indeed　I　call　it　that　because　it　was　Bianca　who　created　it；　merely　using　the　wealth　and　rooms　of　my　palazzo　for　her　finest　achievement　in　which　all　the　apprentices　participated　and　in　which　even　humble　Vincenzo　was　given　a　dramatic　role。
　　　All　of　Venice　did　e　to　partake　of　our　never　ending　banquet；　and　to　delight　in　the　singing　and　the　dancing；　whilst　the　boys　performed　in　numerous　and　grandly　staged　tableaux。
　　　It　seemed　that　every　room　had　its　own　singers　or　divine　pageants。　The　music　of　the　lute；　the　virginal；　and　a　dozen　other　instruments　blended　to　make　the　lovely　songs　that　lulled　and　enchanted　everyone；　as　the　younger　boys；　royally　costumed；　went　about　filling　cups　from　golden　pitchers　of　wine。
　　　And　Amadeo　and　I　did　dance　ceaselessly；　stepping　carefully　and　gracefully　as　was　the　fashion　then…one　walked　to　music；　really…　clasping　hands　with　many　a　Venetian　beauty　as　well　as　our　beloved　genius　of　the　whole　affair。
　　　Many　a　time；　I　snatched　her　away　from　the　illumination　of　the　candles　and　told　her　how　dear　to　me　she　was　that　she　could　bring　about　such　magic。　And　I　begged　from　her　a　promise　that　she　might　do　it　again　and　again。
　　　But　what　could　pare　to　this　night　of　dancing　and　wandering　amid　mortal　guests　who　mented　gently　and　drunkenly　on　my　paintings；　sometimes　asking　me　why　I　had　painted　this　or　that？　As　in　the　past；　no　critical　word　struck　my　heart　deeply。　I　felt　only　the　loving　heat　of　mortal　eyes。
　　　As　for　Amadeo；　I　watched　over　him　constantly；　and　saw　only　that　he　was　divinely　happy；　seeing　all　this　splendor　as　a　blood　drinker；　divinely　thrilled　by　the　theatricals　in　which　the　boys　played　wonderfully　designed　roles。
　　　He　had　taken　my　advice　and　continued　in　his　love　of　them；　and　now　amid　the　blazing　candelabra　and　the　sweet　music；　he　was　radiant　with　happiness　and　whispered　in　my　ear　when　he　could　that　he　could　ask　for　nothing　finer　than　this　night。
　　　Having　fed　early；　and　far　away；　we　were　warm　with　blood　and　keen　of　vision。　And　so　the　night　belonged　to　us　in　our　strength　and　in　our　happiness；　and　the　magnificent　Bianca　was　ours　and　ours　only　as　all　men　seemed　to　know。
　　　Only　as　sunrise　approached　did　the　guests　begin　to　take　their　leave；　with　the　gondolas　lined　up　before　the　front　doors；　and　we　had　to　break　from　the　duty　of　accepting　farewells　to　find　our　own　way　to　the　safety　of　our　gold…lined　grave。
　　　Amadeo　embraced　me　before　we　parted　to　lie　in　our　coffins。
　　　〃Do　you　still　want　to　make　the　journey　to　your　homeland？〃　I　asked　him。
　　　〃Yes；　I　want　to　go　there；〃　he　said　quickly。　He　looked　at　me　sadly。　〃I　wish　I　could　say　no。　On　this　night　of　all　nights；　I　wish　I　could　say　no。〃　He　was　downcast；　and　I　would　not　have　it。
　　　〃I'll　take　you。〃
　　　〃But　I　don't　know　the　name　of　the　place。　I　can't…。〃
　　　〃You　needn't　torture　yourself　on　that　account；〃　I　said。　〃I　know　it　from　all　you've　told　me。　It's　the　city　of　Kiev；　and　I　shall　take　you　there　very　soon。〃
　　　There　came　a　look　of　bright　recognition　to　his　face。　〃Kiev；〃　he　said　and　then　he　said　it　in　Russian。　He　knew　now　it　was　his　old　home。
　　　The　following　night　I　told　him　the　story　of　his　native　city。
　　　Kiev　had　once　been　magnificent；　its　cathedral　built；　to　rival　Hagia　Sophia　in　Constantinople　from　which　its　Christianity　had　e。　Greek　Christianity　had　shaped　its　beliefs　and　its　art。　And　bodi　had　flourished　beautifully　there　in　a　wondrous　place。　But　centuries　ago；　the　Mongols　had　sacked　this　grand　city；　massacred　its　population；　destroying　forever　its　power；　leaving　behind　some　accidental　survivals；　among　them　monks　who　kept　to　themselves。
　　　What　remained　of　Kiev？　A　miserable　place　along　the　banks　of　the　Dnieper　River　where　the　cathedral　still　stood；　and　the　monks　still　existed　in　the　famous　Monastery　of　the　Caves。
　　　Quietly；　Amadeo　listened　to　this　intelligence　and　I　could　see　the　pure　misery　in　his　face。
　　　〃All　through　my　long　life；〃　I　said；　〃I　have　seen　such　ruin。　Magnificent　cities　are　created　by　men　and　women　with　dreams。　Then　there　e　the　riders　of　the　North　or　the　East　and　they　trample　and　destroy　the　magnificence；　all　that　men　and　women　have　created　is　no　more。　Fear　and　misery　follow　this　destruction。　And　nowhere　is　it　more　visible　than　in　the　ruins　of　your　home…Kiev　Rus。〃
　　　I　could　see　that　he　was　listening　to　me。　I　could　sense　that　he　wanted　me　to　continue　to　explain。
　　　〃There　exists　now　in　our　beautiful　Italy　a　land　that　will　not　be　sacked　by　those　warriors；　for　they　no　longer　menace　the　northern　or　eastern　borders　of　Europe。　Rather　they　long　ago　settled　into　the　continent　and　became　the　very　population　of　France　and　Britain　and　Germany　today。　Those　who　would　still　pillage　and　rape　have　been　pushed　back　forever。　Now　throughout　Europe　what　men　and　women　can　do　in　cities　is　being　discovered　again。
　　　〃But　in　your　land？　There　is　still　sorrow；　and　bitter　poverty。　The　fertile　grasslands　are　useless…thousands　of　miles　of　them　are　useless！　Save　for　the　occasional　hunter　as　mad　as　your　father　must　have　been。　That　is　the　legacy　of　Genghis　Khan…a　monster。〃　I　paused。　I　was　being　too　heated。　〃The　Golden　Horde　is　what　they　call　that　land；　and　it　is　a　wasteland　of　beautiful　grass。〃
　　　He　nodded。　He　saw　the　sweep　of　it。　I　knew　this　from　his　solemn　eyes。
　　　〃Would　you　still　go？〃　I　pressed　him。　〃Would　you　still　revisit　the　place　where　you　suffered　so　much？〃
　　　〃Yes；〃　he　whispered。　〃Though　I　do　not　remember　her；　I　had　a　mother。　And　without　my　father；　there　might　be　nothing　for　her。　Surely　he　died　that　day　when　we　rode　out　together。　Surely　he　died　in　the　hail　of　arrows。　I　remember　the　arrows。　I　must　go　to　her。〃　He　broke　off　as　though　struggling　to　remember。　He　groaned　suddenly　as　though　some　sharp　physical　pain　had　humbled　him。　〃How　colorless　and　grim　is　their　world。〃
　　　
　　　〃Yes；〃　I　said。
　　　〃Let　me　take　them　only　a　small　amount…。〃
　　　〃Make　them　rich　if　that's　your　wish。〃
　　　For　a　long　moment；　he　was　silent　and　then　he　made　a　small　confession；　murmuring　it　as　though　he　were　muning　with　himself：
　　　〃I　must　see　the　monastery　where　I　painted　the　ikons。　I　must　see　the　place　where　at　times　I　prayed　I　would　have　the　strength　to　be　walled　up　alive。　You　know　it　was　the　way　of　the　place；　don't　you？　〃
　　　〃Very　well；　I　know　it；〃　I　answered。　〃I　saw　it　when　I　gave　you　the　Blood。　I　saw　you　moving　down　the　corridors；　giving　sustenance　to　those　who　still　lived　in　their　cells；　half　immured　and　waiting　for　the　will　of　God　to　take　them　as　they　starved　themselves。　They　asked　you　when　you　would　have　the　courage　for　it；　yet　you　could　paint　ikons　that　were　magnificent。〃
　　　〃Yes；〃　he　said。
　　　〃And　your　father　hated　them　that　they　did　not　let　you　paint；　that　they　made　you　a　monk　above　all　things。〃
　　　He　looked　at　me　as　if　he　had　not　truly　understood　this　until　now；　and　perhaps　he　had　not。　And　then　came　from　his　lips　a　stronger　statement。
　　　〃So　it　is　with　any　monastery；　and　you　know　it；　Master；〃　he　retorted。　〃The　will　of　God　es　first。〃
　　　I　was　faintly　shocked　by　the　expression　on　his　face。　Was　he　speaking　to　his　father　or　to　me？
　　　It　took　us　four　nights　to　reach　Kiev。
　　　I　could　have　made　the　journey　much　more　quickly　had　I　been　on　my　own；　but　I　carried　Amadeo　close　to　me；　his　head　bowed；　his　eyes　closed；　my　fur…lined　cloak　wrapped　around　him　to　shelter　him　from　the　wind　as　best　I　could。
　　　At　last　on　the　sunset　of　the　fifth　night；　we　reached　the　ruins　of　the　city　which　had　once　been　Kiev　Rus。　Our　clothes　were　covered　in　dirt　and　our　fur　cloaks　dark　and　nondescript；　which　would　help　to　render　us　unremarkable　to　mortal　eyes。
　　　A　thick　snow　lay　over　the　high　abandoned　battlements；　and　covered　the　roofs　of　the　Prince's　wooden　palace；　and　beneath　the　battlements　simple　wooden　houses　that　ran　down　to　the　Dnieper　River…the　town　of　Podil。　Never　have　I　seen　a　place　more　forlorn。
　　　As　soon　as　Amadeo　had　penetrated　the　wooden　dwelling　of　the　European　ruler；　and　glimpsed　to　his　satisfaction　this　Lithuanian　who　paid　tribute　to　the　Khan　for　his　power；　he　wanted　to　move　on　to　the　monastery　at　once。
　　　And　into　it　he　slipped　using　his　immense　blood　drinker's　skill　to　play　the　shadows　and　confuse　those　who　might　have　seen　him　as　he　cleaved　to　the　mud　walls。
　　　I　was　near　to　him　always　but　it　was　not　my　place　to　interfere　or　instruct。　Indeed；　I　was　gripped　with　horror；　for　the　place　seemed　infinitely　worse　than　I　had　ever　guessed　from　the　probing　of　his　fevered　mind。
　　　With　quiet　misery；　he　saw　the　room　in　which　he'd　made　ikons　with　its　tables　and　pots　of　paints。　He　saw　the　long　mud　corridors　through　which　he'd　walked　once　as　a　young　monk；　giving　food　and　drink　to　those　half　buried　alive。
　　　At　last　he　came　out　of　it；　shivering；　and　he　clung　to　me。
　　　〃I　would　have　perished　in　a　mud　cell；〃　he　whispered；　looking　at　me；　begging　me　to　understand　the　import　of　it。　His　face　was　twisted　with　pain。
　　　Then　turning　away　swiftly；　he　went　down　towards　the　half…frozen　river；　searching　for　the　house　in　which　he'd　been　born。
　　　With　no　difficulty　he　found　it；　and　he　entered　it…the　splendid　Venetian；　dazzling　and　confusing　the　family　gathered　there。
　　　Once　again　I　kept　my　distance；　settling　for　the　silence　and　the　wind；　and　the　voices　I　could　hear　with