The Masquers

by Natasha Peters

  “Anything, I would do anything to help!”

  “Time is short. We want you to make friends with one of the prison night guards. You understand my meaning?”

  “Oh, yes, of course! Yes, I should have thought of that myself!”

  “We can help, with money and arrangements for his escape. But you, Lia, must act the major part.”

  As he took his leave of her and bowed over her fingers, she saw a small puckered scar, like a puncture, on the back of his right hand.

  The guard’s name was Giuseppe. He was a lad from the mainland, a country boy, handsome enough and not too stupid. But he had little experience in love, and he was quickly captivated by the slim, dark-eyed girl he met in the wine shop near the prison. She told him her name was Rosina. She was the daughter of a tailor, and she was betrothed to an old man whom she hated. She seemed very impressed when Giuseppe told her that he worked at the Prison of San Marco, guarding the traitorous Jew, Leopardi.

  “Oh, I hear he’s very wicked and dangerous!” Lia breathed.

  “The Jew is no match for me,” said Giuseppe confidently.

  Lia wanted to throttle him, but she smiled sweetly and said, “I think you’re strong and brave. Ah, how I wish my fiancé was like you! Then I’d be happy!” She let him put his hand under her skirts. His eyes got that dull, glazed look and she knew he would do anything to possess her. After a coy show of reluctance, she let him take her into the little room at the back of the wineshop. The proprietor charged him ten sequins and only let them stay fifteen minutes. Giuseppe begged to be allowed to see her again, soon, and Lia agreed to go with him to the Lido the following afternoon. They made love in the grass near the shore. Giuseppe looked forward to an afternoon of uninterrupted pleasure, but Lia complained about the scratching and the sand and cut the session short, in spite of his pleas and protestations. They met the next evening but only briefly, because Lia said that “her father” was becoming suspicious .

  “But why can’t I come to the prisons tonight?” she suggested when Giuseppe fussed about the brevity of their meetings. “No one needs to know. I’ll bring some blankets and we can have—”

  “No, no,” said Giuseppe quickly. “If anyone found out, I’d be hanged! It’s much too dangerous. Strictly against the rules.”

  “I knew you didn’t love me,” Lia pouted, tossing her hair. “You men are all alike, interested in only one thing! I suppose it’s just as well that I’m going to marry a nice old man. At least I can trust him not to lie to me!”

  “What do you mean? I’m not lying!”

  “I was talking to the wife of one of the daytime guards and she says she visits her husband there all the time, and they sometimes sleep together in one of the empty cells. You can’t tell me that you haven’t had girls there before, inside the prison!”

  “No, I never—”

  “I just don’t believe it. Why does that fellow get a special dispensation, tell me that? Is he stronger or smarter than you? He’s your superior, I guess, and you’re scared of offending him. You’re such a baby, Giuseppe. You complain and complain that we don’t have enough time together, and yet when there’s a perfectly good place and all the time in the world you don’t use your head. Well, what can a girl expect from a country lout! I’m sorry we ever met!”

  “No, no, Rosina!” Giuseppe said. “You’ll see. I’m not afraid. I mean, it can’t hurt anyone, can it? And no one needs to know except Rodolfo, who works with me, and he’s a good sport. Why, we drink a bottle or two of wine every night and he tells me all about the women he’s had.”

  “And I suppose you’ve told him all about me, Rosina, the tailor’s daughter!” Lia said.

  “Oh, no!” Giuseppe’s denial came too quickly. “You’re afraid he might tell on you,” Lia said accusingly.

  “No, he would never—I’m sure he wouldn’t! I—I guess it will be all right.”

  Lia pressed close to him and moved her hips slowly against his. He blushed to the roots of his hair.

  “Of course it will be all right, darling angel,” she purred. “We’ll tell your friend that it’s just for tonight, eh? Because I’m getting married soon and have to go away. He’ll understand. And I’ll bring a bottle of wine, too. We’ll have a real celebration.”

  Giuseppe’s tour of duty lasted from midnight to four in the morning. The men on the other shifts went up to the barracks to sleep, and he and Sergeant Rodolfo Baldino took the night watch. Lia presented herself at the side door of the prison on the stroke of two and a nervous Giuseppe admitted her.

  “You’ll have to be real quiet,” he cautioned her. “I don’t want the whole guardroom to know about this. They might—they might be jealous!”

  “Of course,” Lia nodded understandingly. “Where is the guardroom? Is it close?”

  “Right up those stairs,” Giuseppe whispered, pointing the way.

  “But what happens later?” Lia wondered. She stood on tiptoe and nibbled on his ear. He caught his breath and coughed. “Will I be able to get out?”

  “Oh, sure. I’ll let you out. I have the key right here.” Giuseppe obligingly displayed a bunch of keys. “They’re Baldino’s. He’s in on the joke. But it’s just for tonight, mind.”

  “Just for tonight,” Lia murmured. “Oh, you’re so handsome, Giuseppe. I can’t wait any longer. Let’s hurry!”

  He unlocked another door at the end of the corridor and they descended a narrow flight of stone steps. Torches burned in sconces on the damp walls. At the bottom of the steps Giuseppe unlocked yet another door. Lia watched carefully to see which key he used, but the light was very poor. They crept along a passageway, and rounding a corner came face to face with another guard.

  “So this is the beautiful Rosina, eh?” Baldino leered. “You rascal, Giuseppe, I didn’t believe you. But here she is! And as pretty as a picture!”

  Lia gave the man her most dazzling smile. “It’s a great honor to meet you, your Excellency!” she trilled sweetly, dropping a reverent curtsy. “Giuseppe has told me a lot about you. I could hardly wait to meet you!”

  Baldino’s grin widened. Giuseppe scowled, and when they were alone in a cell at the end of the passageway, he grumbled. “You didn’t need to fuss over him like that. I was ashamed of you, Rosina. Acting like a little slut.”

  “Oh, poor Giuseppe,” Lia cooed, draping her slender arms around his neck. “Are you jealous of your little Rosina?”

  “Well, you didn’t need—”

  “I wanted him to like me,” she said. “He’s your boss, after all. And maybe he’ll even let me come again, just once more. Wouldn’t you like that?” She kissed him warmly. He began to fumble with the laces on her bodice. “And here’s the wine I promised to bring.” She pushed him away and produced a bottle from her voluminous skirts. “Would you like some now? I would. I’m very thirsty. Here, Giuseppe, have some.” She uncorked the bottle.

  “Can’t it wait?” he moaned. “You just got here.” He pawed at her.

  “No, I’m thirsty now,” she said firmly, twisting away from him. She tilted the bottle to her lips and pretended to drink deeply. She offered the bottle to Giuseppe again. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?”

  “No, no, I never drink wine before—before—Please, Rosina.”

  She sighed resignedly and put the bottle down in a safe corner. They sat side by side on the bunk in the cell, which Giuseppe had thoughtfully padded with a couple of rough blankets. Lia pulled up her skirts, exposing her naked loveliness to his eager gaze. Panting with anticipation, he threw himself on top of her.

  As he pounded away, sweating and moaning with pleasure, Lia saw a grinning Baldino watching them through the small window in the cell door. She gave him a meaningful wink and a little wave.

  Giuseppe finished quickly, in a storm of heaving and gasping, and Baldino vanished. Lia praised her lover lavishly, and offered him wine to slake his thirst after his exertions.

  “It’s so horrid down here,” she said shivering, w
atching Giuseppe out of the corner of her eye to make sure that he drank enough of the drugged wine. “I’m glad I’m not a criminal But where is the Jew? Are you sure he’s securely locked up? I’d hate to meet him! He—he might try to murder me!”

  “Oh, he’s locked up tighter than a drum,” Giuseppe assured her as he wiped his tick lips with the back of his hand. “In number twelve, just two doors down. I have to unlock the padlock with this key,” he singled out one on the bunch and Lia memorized it quickly, “And lift a bar that weighs more than you do, just to open the door to his cell!”

  “Oh, you’re so strong,” Lia marvelled. “I don’t know how you do it, really I don’t. Kiss me again, Giuseppe, please. I don’t want this night to end.” Giuseppe’s kisses got wetter and sloppier and finally he sighed and muttered something incoherent. He slumped sideways. Lia rescued the bottle just in time. Giuseppe, mouth open, began to snore loudly. She wriggled away from him and slipped out of the cell. Baldino was next.

  She found him waiting just down the hall. “Giuseppe fell asleep.” she said worriedly. “I just don’t know what to do! He had a little wine—it’s all my fault, my Lord. Please, please don’t blame him!”

  Baldino laughed. “These kids can’t hold their wine. Give me that bottle, little Rosina. I’ve been drinking wine longer than most men—my mother had strong red wine flowing through her teats! She must have; she drank enough of the stuff! They say I was drunk when I was born!”

  He lifted the bottled and emptied it down his throat without even swallowing. Some trickles escape from the corner of his mouth, and he nearly gagged once, but Lia squealed rapturously. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Why, you just poured it down! I never saw a man do that before! Is it hard?”

  “No,” he said modestly, “just a little trick I learned in the army.”

  “You were in the army!” Lia breathed, impressed. “I should have known—I could tell you’re a real man. Not just a boy, like—.” She let her voice trail off.

  Baldino shrugged. “Yes, Giuseppe’s a nice enough lad, but he’s still only a boy. Now a man like me, I really know how to make a girl happy, if you catch my meaning?”

  “I bet you do,” Lia smiled into his eyes. She stepped closer and kissed the tip of his red, bulbous nose. “I saw you watching us. I wished—I wished it was you instead of Giuseppe.”

  He whisked her into the nearest empty cell and had her on her back before she could count to three. He pressed down on her heavily, kissing her wetly and dragging at her skirts. He shoved his swollen member between her legs and began to pump and heave happily, snuffling and snorting like a rooting hog.

  Lia steeled herself and bore it patiently, and suddenly he made a little whistling sound and collapsed on top of her, sound asleep. She rolled him aside with difficulty—he was a bulky man—and slipped out from under him. Then she ran back to the cell where she had left the inert Giuseppe and retrieved his keys. She ran down the dimly lighted corridor, looking for cell number twelve. She forgot which key would unlock the padlock, and tried three before she found the right one. By that time Raf was on his feet and looking at her through the little window.

  You!” he exclaimed in an angry whisper. “I heard them—I knew they had a whore in here. I should have known it was you!”

  “Don’t say anything more until we’re out of here,” she hissed. “You’ll have plenty of time later to tell me what you think of me.”

  Her fear and love gave her strength. She lifted the immense bar and set it down without making a sound. Raf pushed the door open and stumbled into the hall. Her heart broke when she saw how pale and wasted he looked, and she silently cursed Fosca Loredan. He stood upright and breathed deeply. He swayed, but when Lia put out her arms to steady him, he pushed her away.

  She hid her anguish at his coldness. She showed him the keys and jerked her head. “This way!”

  They padded silently down the stone passageway, past the cells that contained the two snoring guards. Miraculously, Lia found the key that unlocked the first of the three doors on the first try. By the time they reached the door at the top of the steps, her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the bunch. They rolled to the bottom with a steely clatter that sounded like an explosion. The two stopped breathing and listened. Raf took charge of unlocking the next two doors, and finally they stepped outside, onto the embankment near the Basin of San Marco. Raf leaned against a pillar and breathed the fresh sea air. The short journey from his cell had exhausted him. Lia locked the door behind them and tossed the keys into the water.

  “This way,” she said, pulling at his ragged sleeve. “I have a boat waiting.”

  He hesitated. He didn’t want to accept help from her, but he was too tired and weak to take charge of his own escape. She led him around to the side of the building to a waiting gondola. They stepped inside and sat under thefelze, and the gondolier pushed off without saying a word.

  Raf sat back and closed his eyes. Lia could feel his hatred and disapproval as clearly as if he had spoken them in words. She told herself that she didn’t care. He would be free, and safe, and that’s all that mattered. She had made reparation for her sin of betraying him, and she could live with herself again. Besides, what could she expect from him, after proving that she was just the cheap little whore he thought her?

  The gondola took them to the mainland, just south of Mestre. They put ashore in a lonely cove. A coach was waiting for them. They climbed in without speaking a word to anyone and the coach drove off. Raf permitted himself to sleep, thinking that the escape seemed to be remarkably well planned.

  Just before dawn, after a jolting ride of more than two hours, they stopped, not at an inn, but at what seemed to be an abandoned private dwelling at the end of an overgrown lane. The driver of the coach helped Raf into the house and then drove off.

  The house was an elegant country villa fallen completely to ruin. The exterior stucco had crumbled to powder. The red-tiled roof was sagging and moth-eaten in patches. The grounds were overgrown and unkempt, with a few gnarled olive trees and rambling grape vines. Inside, the rooms that weren’t closed off were clean but sparsely furnished, with only essential items. There was an odor of dampness and decay that no amount of scrubbing would be able to banish. The house had obviously not been lived in for some time.

  A man and woman were waiting for them. They led Raf and Lia to the enormous kitchen at the back of the house. The woman fed them while the man filled a hip bath with steaming water. Raf and Lia did not speak to each other, but each asked their hosts a few questions, which were met with smiles and silence. When they finished eating, the woman left and the man gestured to Raf and then the bath.

  “Trying to tell me something, eh?” Raf grunted ruefully.

  Lia stayed in the room while he bathed, ignoring the dark looks he gave her. She couldn’t bear to be away from him, much as he despised her. The sight of his gaunt nakedness gave her no pleasure, only sorrow. He looked like half the Raf she had known in the ghetto.

  After the bath the man shaved and barbered Raf, then draped a warm robe around his shoulders and led him upstairs. Lia followed. Their rooms were next to each other. Lia stayed with Raf after their guide bowed himself out. She closed the door gently and turned around to face him.

  Raf glowered at her. “If you’re hanging around waiting for me to tell you how grateful I am, forget it. I don’t owe you anything.”

  “No, you don’t. I didn’t ask for thanks, did I? I just wanted to tell you that while you’re here, you must concentrate on becoming well and strong.”

  “I’m going to concentrate on getting out of here. Tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” she said a little tartly. “They’ll be combing the countryside for you, searching everywhere. You’re perfectly safe here—we’re miles from anywhere. You’ll have to spend some time in the sun. You’re too pale. Someone will notice.”

  “All this must have cost you a pretty penny,” he remarked. He sat down heavily on the
edge of the bed.

  “Which you think I earned by whoring?” she said. “Well, you’re wrong, Raf. You have important friends. They are responsible for all of this. I just had to get you out of the prison. They did the rest.”

  “Who?” He looked up sharply. “Who are they?” Fosca, he wondered? Tomasso Dolfin? But Tomasso never had any money. Who?

  “I don’t know who they are,” Lia shrugged. “The man who spoke to me was masked, always. He was a gentleman—I know that much. Not very old. But not a boy. His voice was nice. He planned the escape, including my part in it.”

  “I’ll bet the rehearsals were lots of fun,” Raf said acidly. “Does this house belong to him?”

  “I don’t know that, either. Only what I’ve told you.” Raf lay back on his bed. “And I’m not going to get anything out of those two downstairs, I can see that. How long are they going to keep me here?”

  “No one knows for sure. He told me that they have arranged for some other men who look like you to board ships bound for America and Africa, and also to ride south to Rome and north to Switzerland. When the excitement dies down, he will send horses. He has arranged for everything—passports, papers, money. You can go where you like, to the mountains, or back to France. But not until he thinks the time is right. It could be a few days, or a few weeks.”

  Raf cursed angrily. “I’m still a prisoner! I don’t know where I am. Someone else is controlling my life and I don’t like it! He’s probably jut another tool of the Inquisitors, like you.”

  “What would be the point of that?” Lia asked reasonably. “They already had you in prison once, ready to die. They don’t need any more reasons for killing you.”

  “Now they want to shoot me while I’m trying to escape. That way they can save the expenses of a public execution.”

  Lia laughed aloud. “You’re really being ridiculous! It’s already cost this man more than three public executions. Stop complaining. Believe it or not, you’re free. You have a roof, a warm bed, good food and clean clothes. There are even a few books for you to read.” She nodded at the stack on a table near the bed. “Rest and relax and don’t think.”