The Council of Ten

Chapter 4 - Forgive Me, My Friend (Marco D'Este)

Chapter Four – Forgive Me, My Friend (Marco D’Este)

*****

‘Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.’~ C.S. Lewis

*****

I was woken by a persistent tapping at my bedroom door, rubbing my eyes I said “come in.” The door swung open to reveal one of the servants carrying a silver tray with some tea. His mask was silvery white, yellow and black running across it in stripes. I sat up, stretched and adjusted my pillows.

“Signore, I can do that for you.” He said, reaching over.

“No, no.” I said “it’s perfectly alright. But could you draw the curtains please?”

“Of course, signore. Won’t be a moment.” There was a rustle of red and then a swishing sound as light flooded into the room. I narrowed my eyes against the light holding up a hand to shade them before turning to my pot and pouring a little tea into the cup. “Will you be having breakfast this morning?” I looked over at the man tying back my curtains and wondered. Did I want breakfast?

“I think I will.” I mused, sinking back down onto the bed. I stared out of the window, the canal before my house was already bustling full of boats selling fruit and vegetables or simply people travelling to and from work. Several gondoliers began untying ropes, whistling as they did.

“Your mask,” said the man. I took it from him and tied the ribbons at the back of my head. It covered only my eyes and nose, no need for my whole face to be hidden outside the ball. I raised the cup of tea to my mouth and sipped it. Pulling a face, I set it back on the saucer.

“Is it not to your liking, signore?” Said the servant. I peered up at him, wondering who he was. If I’d seen him before. His mask was in the way so I couldn’t tell, he certainly wasn’t one of the old staff. Perhaps he was new.

“No, no it’s not.” I said, frowning at the bitter taste in my mouth.

“Sugar, signore?”

“Sugar? I-“ I paused. I never had sugar in my tea so no one ever offered it. Well at least now I know he’s new, I thought, referring to the servant. If I didn’t like the tea, it was brewed again but...I knew someone who liked sugar in their tea. In fact, they didn’t drink it without. “Blast this,” I muttered “how did I forget again?” My memory really was getting worse. I snapped my fingers as realisation dawned upon me.

“Signore?” Said the servant.

I looked up at him “no sugar, grazie.”

“Breakfast?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I clambered out of bed. “I’m going to the market.” I padded across the room to the door and turned the handle but before I left I looked back and said “I’ll be back in a moment, I’m just going over to see Padre and then I’d like to change my mask.”

*****

I never realised how much I missed strolling through the market of a morning. The air was still slightly crisp, the market not so crowded. People had just set up their stalls in the square, some hung with fabrics and others were loaded with food. I caught sight of myself in the reflection of a mirror on a stall and grinned at my reflection. I saw a boy smile back at me, one in a blue bird beak mask with untidy hair. Just like old times. “Are you interested in anything, signore?” Said the woman at the stall. She smiled politely, probably hoping I’d spend some money seeing as I was, well, rather upper class. Thank goodness I didn’t wear my frock coat as my father had suggested, that would have made me stick out far too much. With a white shirt...well, I could get away with being the son of a gondolier or something. I really can’t be bothered acting all proper today, I thought, Padre isn’t here so why should I act my class?