To Rise and to Fall
A church bell chimed twice, answered by the double-notes of many others. In mid afternoon, the streets of Palermo were crowded, a blur of feet moving in all directions. There were goods to be bought, and those to be sold, children for minding, friends for gossip, and always a destination to be reached.
Tucked carefully away down a winding alley, a young man was sprawled out on the ground, only partially awake. A place so out of the way would do nothing to fill the pockets of a beggar, but one glimpse of the velvet coat the youth used as a mattress and the silk covering his back made clear his place as a man of status.
He cursed the church bells and tried using a bent arm to cover his ear, only to have the appendage knocked away. As his eyes were forced into focus he found them met by those of a large, mangy dog. He groaned and yanked his arm behind him until his long fingers reached a leather bag of bread and cheese. Pulling out a hunk of each, he then tossed them to his new companion. As he sank back into his semi-conscious state the young man tried to ignore his envy of creature chomping away beside him. If a life ruled only by thirst, hunger and the drive of instinct could be his as well...
Suddenly, a shadow darker than the ones the young man dozed in fell upon him and the dog scampered away. His eyes popped open to see a large figure decked out in military uniform looming above. Still on the ground, the tired one let open his mouth in a yawn, and a groan of disgust came out as well.
"You have been found, Voldo," the figure spoke. "You need to come home."
"So Mom would like to round up her entire flock today, would she?" Voldo replied, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Would that were the case, brother," the standing man replied. "I've come to bring you home as befits Mother's demands, now that our family is one the less. We have just received word that Tiberio is no longer with us."
Voldo just stared into blank space with eyes of glass at hearing of his brother's death. His thoughts were all tangled up in his mind; he could feel the muscles of his forehead tightening as he tried to sort them out. So my brother's dead. Shouldn't I have more of a reaction than this? I should be screaming or crying or something. What am I even supposed to do now? Go back home; Why? Tiberio's dead, me going home won't change that...
"Voldo!" the present brother's voice boomed, snapping the younger one out of his daze. "I am sure you are in shock and I understand, but we must be away; I would hate to keep Mother waiting in such a time as this."
His mind in too much of a daze for the usual arguments, Voldo straightened his legs beneath him, hands sweeping the ground until the caught hold of his bag and jacket. He rolled up to a standing position vertebra by vertebra, his brother cringing at the sound each bone made as it popped into place.
"This way," the elder of the two spoke and began to walk, straight and ridged, his well-muscled form filling out his uniform to its fullest. Next to his brother, Vittore's disciplined military style of movement, Voldo appeared more to glide across the cobbled ground, hips and knees twisting like those of a dancer from a land far wilder than Sicily.
The two reached a carriage, and the footman jumped to attention, rushing to open the door for his young masters. Voldo sat down with both feet on the seat cushion, head turned to the side, resting on his knees. He glanced over at his brother, "so how long did it take you to find me?" he asked.
"Not long," Vittore replied.
"Well that's disappointing," said Voldo.
"You shouldn't be surprised, brother," growled Vittore. "Peasents talk, and the streets are full of vagabonds cowering away in alleys. But only one cowers in silk and velvet...and whatever that thing you've got on your wrist is."
Voldo twisted the mass of metal studs and embossed leather covering his left forearm and smiled. "It's a bracer I picked up from some gypsies, jealous of it, are you?"
"I assure you your sense of fashion is not chief among my interests." the elder of the two sighed. "I will, however, let you in on something that has been occupying my mind."
Voldo tilted his neck, cracking it loudly before Vittore was able to continue.
"So peasents do talk, that I have learned while searching you out today. And you would not believe what news they are fascinating themselves with as of late."
"Oh do tell," Voldo hissed, not bothering to hide his complete disinterest with Vittore's little story.
"Well," his brother continued, "it seems that many of these unfortunates are passing the time with a most primitive form of entertainment. All over this city, certain establishments are hosting--now this I'm sure you'll find amusing--competitive boxing matches."
Voldo darted his eyes away from the other man at the mention of underground fighting.
"Are you listening, Voldo?" said Vittore. "Because here's where it gets truly fascinating. Word is that these aren't so much boxing matches as just a circle of drunken fools that gathers to watch two poor souls at a time pummel each other to the ground by any means."
Voldo felt his palms begin to sweat.
"And now you need to brace yourself because you will just not believe this next little tidbit." Vittore paused for a few seconds before going on. "It seems," he continued, "that the peasants aren't the only ones enjoying these little battles. For the ruffians are all abuzz with talk of one fighter in particular. A real nasty fellow, I've been told his opponents practically have to be scraped off the ground once he's through with a match. They say he's very tall, and of quite a pale complexion; moves like a demon. And, most peculiar of all details, word is he dresses in the garb of a nobleman."
Vittore reached out and caught his little brother's chin in his hand, jerking Voldo's head toward him and forcing direct eye contact. "Does this sound like anyone you know?" He seemed to linger on each word as it came out of his mouth.
The carriage then jerked to a stop, and Voldo tore his brother's hand off of his face. "Well we've arrived, Vittore. I'd hate to keep Mother waiting at a time like this," Voldo hissed as he leapt out of the carriage, his thin lips curled up into a mocking smile.