Tallow (29 page)

AFTER A LATE SUPPER AT
which Tallow was introduced to Dante's grandfather and his Zio Colzo, Gaia made up a bed for Tallow in the kitchen.

'What are you doing, Zia Gaia?' said Dante. 'Tallow's sleeping in the attic with me.'

'No,' said Gaia firmly. 'No, he's not. He's sleeping right here where I can keep an eye on him.' She glanced at Tallow, who flashed her a small smile.

After the initial shock of seeing Tallow's breasts, Gaia had listened to Tallow's story of a cruel uncle who had beaten her ruthlessly and wanted to sell her into slavery until kindly Pillar had rescued her and disguised her as a boy. But Pillar, her only saviour, had disappeared during the outbreak. She had nowhere to go, no-one to turn to.

'Even now,' Tallow had woven her tale quickly. 'My zio searches for me. If anyone were to find out my real identity – anyone – I would be taken away and given to the Vyzantians.'

Tallow could sense that Gaia didn't really believe her. Too sensible to credit such a wild story, she studied Tallow's face. Desperate now, Tallow decided to risk everything. She met Gaia's gaze and, summoning her powers, rested her fingers lightly on the woman's arm.

It had been easy to extract honesty and credibility from the surfaces in Dante's home. The entire place contained the essence of everyone who had ever lived beneath the roof. Magnifying her extraction by drawing on Gaia's own sense of rectitude made it even stronger. Quickly, she distilled it into the woman, allowing it to mix with the qualities Tallow could feel Gaia already possessed.

Releasing Gaia, she lowered her eyes and waited.

Seconds passed.

Finally, Gaia spoke. 'You'll not go to any zio, let alone a dirty Vyzantian, while you're under my roof,' she said.

It sounded like an oath.

Tallow breathed a sigh of relief. Exultation filled her. She'd never done that before, used her gift to deliberately manipulate someone. But her excitement was contaminated by remorse. It had been too easy! Katina hadn't told her. Why, if she could influence someone as grounded as Gaia, then perhaps things might be all right after all.

Until Katina returned to finish training her, Tallow knew she had to stay low and keep safe, and that wouldn't be easy. Hopefully, she wouldn't have long to wait and, maybe while she did, she'd be able to stay here with Dante and his family. After all, she needed Katina's help to improve her talent. There was no way she was ready to strike out on her own. Seeing the earnestness in Gaia's face gave her pause. Or was she? Her skills had improved immensely since her first clumsy efforts. Was it simply courage she lacked, courage to stand on her own two feet?

No. She still had a lot to learn, and not just about being an Estrattore. Now that someone else shared the secret of her sex, the pressure of maintaining the charade on her own lessened. She decided that while she was under Dante's roof, she would try and learn as much as she could about being a woman from observing Dante's female relatives.

Using the soft towel Gaia gave her, she dried herself, marvelling at how different her flesh looked and felt. She relished the smell of Dante's old clothes against her clean skin, the freshness of the fabric, and the knowledge that these garments had once rested against him. She took her time, knowing she had some important decisions to make.
But at least now I have an ally,
she thought, glancing at Gaia fussing around her.

For the next five days, Tallow lived the type of life she'd always been denied. Meals were shared without fights. Vino was drunk in moderation, not to hasten forgetfulness and sleep. Even the work, which was laborious and long, wasn't infected by the usual recriminations and criticisms. Bedtime was not something to look forward to as an escape, but as a genuine rest period that Tallow not only found she needed, but actually regretted because it took her away from Gaia, Renzo and Dante.

Work was initially a problem as Gaia tried to keep Tallow in the shop with her. But, as Renzo and Colzo pointed out, Tallow's skills as a candlemaker would be very useful because the two crafts were so similar. Gaia reluctantly conceded. Tallow knew that while it was good to have Gaia on side, she would have to do something lest the kind old woman accidentally reveal her sex.

There was another reason Tallow wanted to help in the workshop. Not only did she get the chance to meet Dante's other relatives; most importantly, she was able to work side by side with Dante.

Each day she observed him from under her floppy cap, and listened to how he teased his cousins and cajoled his aunts and uncles. When Dante was around, the misery that had tainted their lives seemed to flee. Even boiling the putrid fat and scooping the render became a game, an adventure, and all because Dante made it so. She saw how he'd ensure he was by Renzo's side when something heavy had to be lifted, or become Zia Faluza's eyes when the light grew too dim for her to see the fat she was slicing into bars of soap. When the babies needed comforting, it was Dante who scooped them out of the crib and danced them across the workshop floor, through the steam and into the street, laughing and pulling faces.

'He's a treasure, that boy!' the widow Zia Dulmia would claim, her hands on her sizeable hips, a smile spread across her freckled countenance. 'A real tresoro, priceless.'

Tallow didn't need it pointed out. She was beginning to see how much his family relied upon him, especially now.

Dante had always seemed to be a carefree, impulsive young man who ducked his responsibilities and wove unrealistic dreams. But as the days flew by and she saw how he interacted with his family and neighbours and listened to his plans for the future, she understood that he was much more than that. For Tallow it was heartbreaking that people like Dante, like her, were trapped in a world not of their making, where roles and rules were imposed long before they were ever born.

At night, long after supper had been cleared away, they would all sit around a small fire and share talk of neighbours and others who had drifted into the quartiere. Gaia would tell them who had come into the shop that day and what losses they'd suffered over the last weeks. Or she would report stories of hope and rebuilding, and they would raise their mugs in a toast and offer prayers to God.

From time to time, Tallow became aware of the others' lingering glances and her heart would thud. She knew they were curious about her and her eyes. Gaia had told them that she was half-Jinoan and that seemed to satisfy them for a while, but Tallow knew that the aunts and uncles were discomforted by her appearance. Once she caught Zia Dulmia making the sign of the evil eye over her baby after Tallow had comforted him. But no-one confronted her directly and, certainly, Renzo and Gaia showed no inclination to ask her to leave.

One night Tallow noticed that Gaia was quieter than usual. During lulls in the conversation, her face had turned towards Tallow, a frown creasing her brow. When Tallow had looked at her questioningly, Gaia had given her a distracted smile and turned away.

Tallow tried to shrug off the uneasiness that marred what was otherwise, for her at least, an idyll.

MIDDAY PASSED AND ALREADY TALLOW
had been in the workshop for over six hours. It was a warm autumn day and a mild breeze drifted from the calle that ran along the rear and in through the workshop door. Feeling hot and sticky after working over the tub of fat, Tallow dragged a stool towards the wide rear entrance. Confined to the house since she had arrived, she hadn't yet explored the neighbourhood, although Dante promised they would soon.

Out there in the fresh air, she was able to breathe again. While the smell in Pillar's workshop had on occasion been unpleasant, it didn't compare to the stench of chandling. She took some deep breaths and, perching herself on the stool, looked around. Behind her, the vats were bubbling merrily; directly in front, a huge block of soap was hardening in the sun.

She'd only just sat down when Renzo strolled outside and handed her a hunk of bread and some cheese. 'Here,' he said. 'Enjoy. You've earned it.'

Tallow took the food gratefully. 'Thank you.'

Renzo smiled and then looked up and down the calle. From beneath the brim of her hat, Tallow followed his gaze. A number of people were looking in their direction but quickly looked away when they saw Renzo scowling fiercely at them. 'I don't think it's a good idea for you to sit out here, Tallow,' he said.

Tallow was surprised. 'Really?' She waited for an explanation. It didn't come. 'I won't be long. I just need some air. The fat –' She patted her belly and pulled a face.

Renzo smiled. 'Yes, it can be overpowering for those who aren't used to it.' He squeezed Tallow's shoulder. 'Five minutes. No more.' He cast one more glance up the calle and strode back inside.

Waiting for her stomach to settle so she could eat, Tallow fed titbits to Cane who, tied to a stool nearby, sat obediently at her feet. Tallow had been forced to tie him up to stop him barking and bounding after the passers-by.

Biting into the bread, Tallow chewed slowly, enjoying the activity around her. In front of her the long, wide calle was filled with businesses, workshops and warehouses. For the first time since Serenissima was declared disease free, vendors had finally returned to the nearby piazzetta and shops – many with new owners.

As a result, people slowly wandered from the piazzetta back to the calle. Custom had started to pick up and, for Dante's family at least, there were large orders to fill. Tallow watched as children ran beneath their mothers' skirts, bumping their shopping baskets as they wandered from store to store. In a huddle not too far away, a group of washerwomen sat on their small stools hard at work. In the chandlers' workshop opposite, the new owners laboured over their vats, calling out to each other, and occasionally sending one of their apprentices over to ask a question of Renzo or Colzo.

A gangly young apprentice emerged out of the doorway across the calle and approached her. His apron was filthy, his cheeks and hands carrying the burns typical of his status. Her hands used to look like that too, she thought. That was until she made
those
candles – the candles that saved so many in her quartiere. Her thoughts, as they often did, drifted to Pillar. She wondered how he was faring without his apprentice. Did he miss her?

'Er, scusi,' said the apprentice. Tallow guessed he would have been her age. 'Is Signor Colzo there?'

'Inside,' she said, jerking her thumb behind her.

The apprentice nodded and wandered in, his eyes wide. He glanced at Tallow over his shoulder, almost crashing into a vat.

He wasn't the only one staring.

What Tallow failed to notice as she lost herself in memories were the eyes that lingered on her, the faces that stared through the secrecy of shop windows; the swift glances and quick nods. Neither did she hear the whispers that attended her any time she was even glimpsed in the calle.

The young apprentice wandered out and back to his own workshop, his neck twisted round so he could look at Tallow for as long as possible.

Tallow might not have noticed the attention she was receiving, but Dante did.

So did his family.

A gentle tap on the shoulder interrupted her musings.

'Tallow?' It was Gaia. 'I think you should come inside
now.'
Gaia draped an arm around her and coaxed her in the door. Making sure Tallow was safely out of sight, she stepped back into the calle. 'What are you lot looking at?' she shouted, her arms raised in the air. Some faces turned away, others stared brazenly at her. Her ire began to rise. 'He's just a boy. A good boy, do you hear me? Leave him alone.' She shook her fist at them.

'What's going on?' asked Tallow as Gaia stormed back in. She'd heard every word.

The entire family stopped their excited babbling and stared at Tallow in silence. 'What is it?' Tallow half-laughed, looking at Dante for an explanation. He folded his arms and refused to meet her eyes.

Uncomfortable under their scrutiny, Tallow lowered her head and scraped her foot backwards and forwards through the sawdust, tracing patterns. 'Have I done something wrong?'

No-one spoke.

Gaia made a noise of exasperation and took a step towards Tallow, but, before she could say anything, Zia Dulmia spoke.

'Is it true?' she asked.

Tallow felt a familiar coldness creep over her body. Gaia stopped in her tracks. 'Is what true?'

Zia Dulmia glanced at her sister who gave an encouraging jerk of her head. 'That he has magic powers.'

'Magic?' Tallow still didn't raise her head. She wanted to laugh, but she couldn't. She was afraid it would turn into a moan.

'No.' It was Renzo. 'More than magic,' he said, putting down his lunch and stepping closer. He indicated to Dante to shut the door.

It rattled noisily as it was pulled shut.

Renzo bent down until his face was level with Tallow's. Placing a long, calloused finger under her chin, he gently raised it. 'It is true,' he said, his eyes locked on hers. 'It's more than magic. It's who you are. You bear the mark, the true sign. Eyes like mirrors, the legends say. In my lifetime, I never expected to see ... You are an Estrattore. A descendant of the old gods.'