Free The Black Opera by Mary Gentle Page A

debts your father left when he died—although at that time you were not of age, and therefore the responsibility was not yours, and should have fallen to the family’s oldest male relative.”
    Conrad bit back terms one should not use in front of Majesty.
    Cazzo! Shite! I’m going to kill Luigi! Shameless gossip .
    â€œOne of the temptations of royalty is to rely always on one’s own judgement. I try not to. In your case, it seemed reasonable to make enquires of the police chief where you live. Captain Esposito thinks highly of you. Apart from a despicable ability—I quote the good captain—to win at games of chess, he had no complaints to make about your time in his district.”
    Conrad managed to raise a barrier between his brain and his mouth, before he gave an opinion that Luigi wouldn’t object to Conrad’s chess or backgammon skills half so much, if he didn’t have a foolish conviction he should keep betting money on his own.
    I suppose it’s Luigi’s duty to tell, if King Ferdinand is shrewd enough to ask .
    Conrad muttered, “Uncle Dario—my late father’s brother—told me my father’s creditors could go hang. They’re all small tradesmen. It seemed an injustice.”
    â€œAt another time, I should much enjoy debating the basis of natural or theological justice with you, Conrad… You’ve been warned, and told everything possible, I think.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThis is an urgent matter. How long will you need to decide?”
    â€œYou mistake me.” Conrad couldn’t repress a cheerful reckless smile. “My answer—is yes, sir .”
    The King took a few hasty steps, and swung around. “Don’t be so quick. You’re not—you can’t be—fully aware of the dangers!”
    He’s torn , Conrad realised.
    The King’s expression vanished into blank politeness, but Conrad retained that glimpse. A man in the position of wanting simultaneously to encourage and discourage… Because he thinks I’m too rash?
    Because this is hazardous?
    â€œSir, at this point, I’m as aware of the dangers as I can be. If I hear nothing after this that I find I object to as a matter of principle, I’ll write your libretto. You have no idea how much I want to do it! Respectable people—don’t employ atheists. The opera industry keeps me in bread and olives, but where it rubs up against the respectable world, I’m reminded again and again what I am. Censors, patrons, impresarios… the noblemen on local opera boards…”
    Conrad Scalese wouldn’t have been allowed into the army, if not for the warsagainst the Tyrant. Even then he was promoted no higher than lieutenant.
    â€œYou’re offering me the opportunity to practise my skills as a librettist, and perhaps do something that no one in opera has ever done… Whatever else you have to tell me, it’s almost certain I’ll agree. I can’t promise success. Only that I’ll put everything I can into the attempt.”
    Conrad was aware of the smell of his own sweat. To be sticky, hot, ill-dressed, and the clear victim of a scuffle isn’t the way to come before a king.
    He waited.
    The King reached out and laid his hand on Conrad’s shoulder, ignoring the coat’s scuffs and dirt superbly.
    â€œConrad Scalese. Nothing you hear after this can go beyond you and I, unless I give explicit permission. Do you swear— affirm —that you will keep silent about what I tell you?”
    â€œI affirm it, sir.”
    Conrad paused.
    â€œExcept—my servant.” The term did not sit easily in Conrad’s mouth. “Tullio Rossi will find out what’s happening, no matter what I do. But if he gives me his word, I know he’ll keep it.”
    â€œWill you put your life on his discretion?”
    â€œAlways.”
    His tone must have conveyed that this wasn’t a rash