Authors: Roman Payne
“From the looks of you that night!” laughed Dragomir, “If I
hadn’t been the one who poisoned you, I would have given you up
for dead! But everything was in order… a nice coincidence that
the girl I’d chosen for you lived on the exact street that led to the
hospital I sent you to find!…
“Although I didn’t really want you to find it, of course. I
didn’t send you on a walk through the garden of Aphrodite just so
that you might come out the other side at a public infirmary! You
wouldn’t have wanted to pass the night of your birthday in some
public hospital, would you? No, I knew little Clara would be
singing her gypsy songs on her balcony that night—the fortune I
gave her told her to do so. Oh, Saul, there were so many reasons
why I chose her for you… one being that she was so young. When
we are young like that we are so easy to convince of fate and
destiny. A simple fortune read to her in an eerie Spanish mansion
and she was seduced! Yes, it was easy for me to seduce her, yet it
wasn’t easy for
her
to seduce
you,
no. That was one drawback of
her age. Older women are much better than young girls when it
comes to seduction. You weren’t seduced at first, no… You even
tried to
abandon her
in Barcelona, remember? That had me
worried. I had to bribe the workers at the boat docks to lie to you
and invent some departure delays. They told you that you were
stuck in Barcelona for a while, do you remember that?”
“I had to bribe quite a lot of people on your account. This
was not a cheap five years for me. It will be good when I have the
twenty-five thousand louis to cover my losses. I almost forgot, I
still have to pay the guards who arrested you at the port today.
You see, I had to pay a lot of people off to get you in these chains
you’re in today, Saul. I even had to kill! I had to get rid of that
snooping ‘Andrea’ boy. He would have fouled everything up if he
had stayed alive. Then there were the businessmen staying at the
Hotel Sant Felip Neri in Barcelona… You see, it was important to
my plan that you stay at that precise hotel. You wanted a suite
when you returned there after abandoning Clara. But the only
two suites were now occupied by two men who wouldn’t take the
hint I gave them—I
did
give them their chance to give up their
rooms! But they were stubborn, so they each got knifed in the
gut and thrown into the street. It was meant to look like a very
suspicious and very absurd double-suicide. What an absurd
death-scene that was!, it made me laugh… But what baffled me
Saul, is that for all your brains, it didn’t seem to occur to you to
book one of the dead men’s suites after that. Why did you insist
on remaining at that cockroach farm up in Urquinaona? I had to
go scrounge-up that old toothless guitar player and put him in
that dirty tavern and tell him to talk to you about some scarf you
dropped.
You see how you made me work to capture you?!…
“Oh, then there was Paris... you absolutely loved Paris,
didn’t you Saul? You
are
a decadent soul… each night at the
Comédie-Française, fashionable strolls in the gardens all day…
You and your girl would still be there today if I hadn’t ransacked
your apartment on the quai to give you a scare. I still regret that I
didn’t get you to leave soon enough. I knew that your mother was
dying of loneliness in Tuscany…”
“What did you know of my mother?!” I shouted. I
trembled with fury at hearing my mother mentioned by this
‘creature.’
“Her neighbors said that her one wish was to reunite with
her only son. But truthfully Saul, I only knew the story of your
dear mother from the gossip of the Florentines. I never once
checked-up on her myself. And never did I hear any Florentine
say a word about your mother that wasn’t full of praise. I have a
mother too, Saul. I know that they are holy. I never tried to speak
to your mother in order to get to you. I may be a charlatan, but I
have a mother too.”
Dragomir sat a minute, quiet and pensive. He then
resumed talking… “So while your dear mother was worrying
herself to death in Tuscany, you were playing around in Paris—I
wasn’t happy about this; so in order to get you to Tuscany, I
poisoned your wine. Again, it was not enough to kill you, only
enough to make you sick—as you found out the next day when
you tried to get that donkey drunk.”
“You remember Mademoiselle Lingot in Paris? The girl
who told you and your girl that Adélaïse ran off to Tuscany with
some older couple? She was telling the truth… the couple was
Penelope Baena and me. We convinced Adélaïse to come with us
to Italy; and then she gladly came here to Tripoli when we
promised her a reunion with her best friend, Saskia. She is a very
pretty, very sweet girl, this Adélaïse. Did you notice when she was
just in here? Oh, no… you only had eyes for your Clara… Sorry,
your ‘Saskia.’ I know how much you love her. Well, as we were
leaving Italy to come here, we had Adélaïse write a letter to
Saskia—Adélaïse calls her Saskia as you do. The letter contained
personal clues, references to private secrets that only the two of
them could know about… then we mailed the letter to Saskia’s
bank in Siena. Yes, it was a letter from Adélaïse,
not from me.
Adélaïse told Saskia in her letter that she would be waiting for her
in Tripoli. This is what made Saskia abandon you in Italy. Your
girl does love you, Saul. Believe it or not, she loves you as much as
you love her. She didn’t want you to see that letter from Adélaïse
because, as you know, she knew from the innkeeper and his wife
in Staggia that you are wanted in Tripoli, and that your coming
here to Tripoli meant your death. As for herself, she had already
made up her mind—and she even told you, don’t forget!—she
would travel any distance, and alone too, to reunite with her best
friend, Adélaïse. And she
did
find Adélaïse, so now she is happy!
…You know, Saul, the life of a man with whom a young woman is
intimate for a short while means relatively little to her where
lifelong friendship is concerned.” Dragomir broke once again into
great laughter after saying that. “That’s funny, is it not? But
truthfully, Saul, she
does
love you, as much as you love her.”
“She shows it very strangely,” I said, “She won’t even look
at me or offer the slightest sympathy as I stand before her in
chains, awaiting execution.”
“Yes, Saul, you and I both know… Women have a strange
way of showing their love!” Dragomir’s witticism made him laugh
all the more loudly, while I meanwhile cursed him, shaking with
fury, my chains a rattling cacophony of clanging metal. The
sound reminded me once again how heavy my chains were, I
could never break them. And so I asked kindly of my executioner,
“Dragomir, please… I request to speak to Saskia now.”
“You are an unnatural creature! I am a man condemned to
death, and I can make no requests? Damn-you, insect! Let me
talk to Saskia”
“There will be time for that.”
“When?”
“We are going on a little boat ride now.”
“What do you mean
a little boat ride?
”
“A little boat ride in the name of your king.”
‘A little boat ride in the name of the King of Tripoli!’
…That
horrible phrase sent my mind flashing back to the story my
mother told me as a boy of
the execution out at sea
, when she was
taken on a boat to witness the death of a young nobleman,
ordered by the adolescent king. I would have nightmares of that
execution when I was a boy… they were so vivid, I had given faces
to all the characters: the sister who was shot in the head when she
refused to kill her brother, the second son whom the condemned
brother convinced to shoot him to save their family—he shot his
brother, then he turned the gun on himself—I imagined all their
faces, right down to the face of the condemned man himself. Now
I was to enact my childhood nightmares for real… the thought
sent me into convulsions, I admit I was seized with horror. And
in my panic, I struggled to free myself from the iron handcuffs.
He then walked to the door and called the two guards
back in. “Take the prisoner to the boat,” he ordered, “Lock him in
the cabin.”
The chief guard, along with his two pockmarked henchman, led
me from the palace down a deserted street until we came to a
beach, where a jetty of sandy stones stretched out into the sea. It
was an unpopulated beach and there were no boats or people or
signs of habitations visible either up the beach or down… only in
front of us, that single stone jetty with crystal blue water lapping
gently around it. This view before my eyes had an unreal, dreamy
quality, as though it were a pastel landscape painting. The only
movement in the painting was the gently lapping blue water. So
had it looked since I was a boy in my dreams and nightmares of
that execution out at sea my mother witnessed. It was a scene
painted in pastels. It was a day just like this day: clear skied, the
sand bright orange, and the Mediterranean whose waters are
often so wild, on this day were still and as calm as a puddle of
glass.
At the end of the stone jetty stood a magnificent boat with
enormous white sails puffed-up with wind. The guards escorted
me down the jetty, and once we reached the boat, they slackened
the irons on my ankles so I could cross the gap from the jetty to
the boat deck. I was somehow not surprised to see that Saskia
and Adélaïse were on the boat. I had begun to believe evil things
by then. I believed that they themselves desired to be the ones to
actually kill me, to spill my blood and watch me die. Saskia and
Adélaïse were sitting together on the floor of the deck holding
hands and whispering to each other. They looked so happy in
their little white matching linen dresses, their feet dangling over
the side of the boat. They might as well have been having a picnic
together.
Saskia only glanced at me for a moment when I came onto
the boat. She didn’t look into my eyes. She only looked at my
chains: at my bleeding wrists and my feet. There was a look of
both reassurance and love in her eyes. I was sure she was
reassured to see me bound in irons, that she could feel safe
knowing that I could not escape to harm her, nor escape my
death. But the love in her eyes was the most painful. I felt that
even though she had sold my life for money or for whatever
reason, she still loved me in some part of her. And with that
thought, the most painful realization dawned on me:
that the only
person living in the world who loved me, and whom I loved, wished
me to die!
And so that was the moment
that I wished the world to die:
every memory, every creature, every breath that makes us
creatures… every trace of life… to die and never be reborn!
If ever I had been happy in this world, if I had ever
admired the universe and all that was created within it, that
admiration vanished the moment Saskia let it be known that her
wish was for me to die in front of her… and for what sake? For the
sake of her friendship with Adélaïse.
The guards escorted me into the cabin of the boat. In the
center of the cabin room there was a table. On one side of the
cabin were bunk beds. On the opposite side was a window
looking out onto the deck to where Saskia and Adélaïse sat
together talking. Finally, at the back of the cabin, next to the
window, there was the bench to which I was chained. The guards
attached each of my ankles to a leg of the bench. The bench legs
were nailed solid into the wooden planks of the boat. The cuffs
on my wrists were unlocked long enough for the guards to chain
my hands
behind
me; thus if I decided after all to deprive the
executioner of the pleasure of killing me by strangling myself, I
was now out of luck. I looked out the cabin window then and
watched Adélaïse and Saskia as they spoke to one another on the
deck. I could hear every word they said…
I repeated Saskia’s words over and over again in my
thoughts. Several times over and again, I repeated,
‘I just want it
all to be over, so we can move on.’
…
‘I just want it all to be over, so
we can move on.’
…
‘I just want it all to be over, so we can move
on
…’ ‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘After I’m gone, she will finally be able to
move on…’ I now truly feared death. Footsteps approached the
cabin from outside. Then the voice of Dragomir…
“Clara, come now… we’re going, it’s time… Guards, see to
the comfort of Adélaïse until we get back… make sure she’s in
want of nothing. Oh, and make sure the prisoner behaves
himself.” Through the window of the cabin I observed Adélaïse as
she watched her friend walk off the boat at Dragomir’s side. I
could see Saskia and Dragomir walking down the jetty towards
the city.
I waited in that cabin for what seemed about two hours. I
struggled with my chains and tried to loosen the bench, but I
knew it was no use. All my ideas were stupid… I thought to shout
to Adélaïse through the window for help. But what on earth
would I say to her?…
‘Hey Kid! If you help me get untied, I won’t
tell anyone!’
…? She was busy sunbathing, she wouldn’t bother with
me. As you can see, I was facing the pathetic ending of an
otherwise beautiful life.
It was late afternoon when Saskia and Dragomir came
walking back down the jetty towards the boat. Dragomir was
pushing some kind of a wheeled cart, from what I could see
through my cabin window. The sun had fallen low, and all I could
see outside were silhouettes. Yet as the sea was calm and quiet, I
could hear every sound and word perfectly. Dragomir stopped at
the end of the jetty by the boat, and handed something to each of
the guards…
“One gold louis for each of you. Good work, boys. I won’t
need you for anything more. Just help me get this cart aboard.
Then stay on the jetty and help me untie the ropes at your end,
we’re shoving off for a little boat ride.”
The guards moved the cart onto the boat and I could see
clearly now, the cart was carrying sacks of lemons—‘Why
lemons?’ I wondered. Back on the jetty, the guards untied the
ropes and pushed the boat adrift in the sea. The sails caught the
wind, and the four of us: Dragomir and Saskia, Adélaïse and me,
started sailing slowly but steadily out into the vast and fabulous
Mediterranean Sea.
Now I could see Saskia clearly in the sunshine from my
prison bench. She passed in front of my window and went to
Adélaïse and hugged her and smiled. “Oh, Adélaïse! I’m so glad
that’s
over with! Now we’re sailing… Soon we will be all together
and happy.”
“Soon they will be all together and happy,” I repeated in a
mumble, “I hope Saskia pulls the trigger…” With the guards back
on the shore, who else would do it? It seemed like Dragomir’s
style to give the honor of executing me to the woman I loved.
Dragomir came into my cabin that moment followed by
Adélaïse…
Saskia was standing at the bow on the deck. She was
staring at the coast of Libya as it grew gradually fainter. One
could still see the tiny dots that were people, milling around on
the piers of Tripoli that jutted out from the stretches of beaches.
One could still make out the palm trees, and the houses were still
rather large.
“We are not that far away,” Saskia said and turned around
to face the cabin door from which I emerged, still in chains, led by
Adélaïse. Saskia acknowledged me this time, but she did not look
at me long. She seemed more fascinated with the landscape. She
turned around to face the sea again and shouted, “Oh hurry up!
Let that horizon disappear from sight forever!…”
Dragomir, meanwhile, seemed extremely gay of spirit. He
was laughing, making boyish jokes, leaping around the deck. I
stood stoically and gloomy, my back to the mast.
“It’s time to taunt you, Saul!” Dragomir laughed. He tore
the lemons out of the four sacks with joy—tossing them wherever
they might land: on the deck or in the sea. After a while of that, I
saw that in the sacks, underneath the lemons, were brilliant gold
pieces. “The sacks are filled with louis d’or!” Dragomir laughed.
Then he explained his ruse, “I covered the coins with lemons to
look like a citrus merchant. Smart, huh? While we were walking
through the poverty of Tripoli, all the people were staring at Clara
here. No one cared about my lemons! Ah, but if they’d seen the
flesh
and
the gold, those poor devils would have stolen both—
there’s enough here to make the whole city rich! Not to mention
those greedy guards. Why do you think I didn’t bring the guards
on the boat? Who would be able to stop them from taking all!,
what, with the pistols and swords they carry… “Look at all this
money, Saul! …
You see what I get for killing you?
There are
twenty-five thousand of these beautiful gold coins. All divided
amongst these four sacks. Each sack weighs almost fifty kilos!—
can you imagine that?!
Did you know that your head weighed so
much?!…
”
Dragomir was euphoric with laughter. “Hey Clara!” he
yelled over to Saskia, “Stop looking out at that sea and come feel
this gold!” She didn’t turn around or respond to him, she kept at
the bow, staring out at the horizon. Adélaïse, at that moment,
came to me where I stood at the mast and she stood beside me.
She gave me a thoughtful and serious look. She seemed to want
me to know something… but what? Was she sorry she had to
execute me?
“Clara!” Dragomir yelled again, “You can come over here
now. Leave off your watch! Tripoli is finally out of sight… the
horizon officially shows water in every direction!” And with more
loud laughter, Dragomir resumed playing with his gold. He was
paying so much attention to his riches that I thought I
just might
be able to slip my legs through the chains on my wrists; I could
then leap on him and try to strangle him with the chain joining
my wrist. ‘If I can’t strangle Dragomir,’ I thought, ‘I might
succeed at the very least to throw the sacks of gold overboard
before he had the chance to kill me. I’d be dead, but they’d be
poor…’ And so I tried that desperate plan and began struggling
with my chains, pushing my hands low enough to get around my
feet; yet I stopped when I felt Saskia’s hand touch softly my wrist.
I hadn’t noticed that she had come from the bow. I looked at her
with malice and resumed struggling with my chains, but she now
held both her hands on my wrists—not with force, but with
tenderness, with compassion; and she said, “Stop, Saul.”
“You stop, Saskia!” I cried quietly to her as cold sweat
poured down my cheeks, “Stop
this
is what I mean… After all we
have meant to each other, you owe me at least the decency of
helping me to die right now. Don’t make me stand here through
all this humiliation. It is because of my death that you are rich, so
treat me with respect: tell the executioner to do his work and
quickly!” She didn’t say anything to all this, she just looked at me.
“The way you look at me now, Saskia! It is compassion
you have… You know that this is the first time you’ve looked at
me for more than a second since I arrived in Tripoli? Please
continue looking at me until I die. Look at me with compassion
while the executioner does his dirty work. At least then, I can
forgive for what you’ve done to me. With my forgiveness, you can
live with a clean conscience after my death.”
Dragomir heard me say this and he lost all interest in
playing with his gold. Saskia looked at Dragomir at this moment
and a tear rolled down her face. “Dragomir,” she said to him,
“Please, Dragomir, the horizon is out of sight. No one can see our
boat. Can we tell him now? He is suffering too much. Why must
he wait so long?”
“My God, you both are so serious!” said Dragomir, “And
you, Saul, you poor, poor man! What you must be going through
in that head of yours. I think I’ll give you the last revelation now,
so as to make your burden less heavy. It all begins with a story
that you will think is funny.” So saying, Dragomir came close to
me. I noticed Adélaïse stood only a few steps away, watching and
listening. As for Saskia, she still had her hand affectionately on
my wrists that were bound in chains.
“Saul… Do you remember that gentleman you met on the
boat from Italy? The one who vaguely looked like you… Except
he didn’t have quite so nice of a face as you. What was his name?
Alfred, I think it was. Yes, that’s it, Alfred Pion. A Frenchman.
Well, it’s a funny thing about Monsieur Pion, you see. He
couldn’t manage to stay alive too long… I paid a couple ruffians to
stab him with a dagger and then stuff his body in a coffin. After
that was done, I had him brought to your king…
“‘Voilà, Your Highness, Your Grace!’ I said, ‘You asked for
him, and I brought him! The son of Solarus—stone dead!’ That
idiot king trembled with such delight as he looked at the coffin;
and when he opened it, he exploded with pleasure, as though he
were a child opening the world’s greatest Christmas present. He
saw his salvation in the dead face of Alfred Pion…
“The king never saw you,
the real
son of Solarus, not once
in his life, consequently, he quickly turned to his court advisors
and asked if the dead body was really you. The advisors looked at
each other with embarrassment. They also were unable to
respond in the affirmative or the negative—for none of them had
ever seen you either!… They talked amongst themselves and then
responded by saying, ‘Your Highness, this man looks exactly like
the portraits of the son of Solarus in circulation.’