Georgio's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Georgio woke in Volpi's arms. Light slanted through the window and struck the half-empty ledger on the table. His head ached. Volpi stirred and reached for the amphora by the bed. They passed the cool water between them until the throb behind Georgio's eyes softened. Volpi smiled, slow and tired. Georgio felt the night settle into something real. They ate at the table. Bread torn by hand. Duck eggs fried in a black pan, the yolks bright as coins. Volpi watched him chew, then set his cup down. "I should say it plain," he said. "I want you. Not the rite. You." Georgio's throat tightened. He nodded once. It was enough. Then Volpi's face changed. "I have duties in town today. I cannot put them off." Georgio set down the bread. "What duties?" Volpi looked at his hands a long moment. "I am the young duke of Veralux. I have not lied for sport. I lied because I wanted one man who did not bow." He pulled something from his folded coat. A snail shell, weathered, washed in deep violet. "For your work. The dye is older than any crown." Georgio held the shell. He thought of the scroll on his shelf, the sketched face of Dionysus he had never finished. He had no model. He never had. And here sat a man with wild hair and tired eyes and a god's loose grace in his shoulders. "Stay," Georgio said. "One more hour. Let me paint you as him. Volpi opened his mouth, closed it, then gave a small laugh. "One hour." Georgio dragged the easel and palette into the small yard behind the house. He set Volpi against the stone wall with the shell in his palm. He mixed the violet thick. He worked fast, the way he had wept through the Virgin, hand moving ahead of thought. Volpi held still. The laurel was only sunlight in his hair. The toga was only the sheet from the bed. It did not matter. The god came through anyway. When Georgio stepped back, the panel held a face he knew and did not know. Wild. Tender. A little cruel. He had done it. He had painted the god from a living man. Volpi looked at the work and went quiet. Then he reached for his boots. "I must go. Veralux is waiting." He kissed Georgio at the door and was gone. Georgio stood alone with a wet panel of Dionysus wearing his lover's face, and understood he had just painted a duke as a pagan god in plain daylight.