Chapter 16
Author's Note: Another re-edited chapter guys. Enjoy. All Hamlet dialogue is © Mr. William Shakespeare.
"Since this might be our last night, we might as well make the most of it."
Capricorn's words were akin to a snake rearing its head, the warning before the strike. And she reacted to it as she would the threat of a serpent, especially one that had once strangled her. She backed away, or rather scrambled from her position on the floor. Capricorn laughed at her retreat. The prospect of a chase undoubtedly appealed to him, especially when there was no chance of escape.
"What's the matter, my dear? Does the idea of my company displease you?"
He heaved himself languidly from his chair. He stood for a while, surveying his victim from the distance she had put between them. She was out of arm's length but felt no safer. His presence seemed to spill out to cover every inch of the room in shadow. The whole room was a spider's web. He was the spider and she, the fly, buzzing helplessly in the net.
And now the spider was drawing towards her with unhurried confident steps. She matched his steps by pressing back. Her own movements were clumsy, moving blindly for she did not dare take her eyes off Capricorn.
It was not until she ran into the bedside table that she turned, her back throbbing from the contact. Here was Capricorn's untouched meal where she had placed it earlier. Beside it was a weathered leather-bound book. It had been sitting in that same spot for a while though Dafne had never seen Capricorn reading it. There was a picture of a skull on the cover along with the title in faded gold lettering: Hamlet and other Tragedies. William Shakespeare.
Dafne had become acquainted with Shakespeare during her tutelage by Signor Orazio. Signor Orazio's wife had loved the theatre so he had fond memories of the performances they had attended together. Although initially hard to understand, Dafne had come to enjoy the poetic language of his plays. Her favourite was A Midsummer Night's Dream, which was more whimsical and light-hearted than other works.
But this was no time for reminiscing. Dafne saw how hefty the book looked. It was thick, weighted by pages filled with intrigue, betrayal, suicide and murder. As a weapon of self-defence, it was worth a shot. It was no knife but if well-aimed, it could cause a decent blow to the head, open up a window of escape. The idea didn't seem too fantastical to her brain clouded with fear. So she seized the book, brandishing it high like a club.
Capricorn watched her, looking amused by this development.
"Oh, and what exactly are you planning to do with that?"
"Stay back!" Dafne warned, trying to keep her voice steady but failing, "D-don't come any closer."
"Or what?" Capricorn chuckled, "You'll swat me with that moudy old book? It looks as if it's about to fall to pieces."
He came forward, Dafne raised it higher,
"Stop! I don't want to use Shakespeare this way but I will if I have to."
To Dafne's amazement, Capricorn stopped.
"Shakespeare?" he said, rolling the name in his mouth as if tasting it, "Is that what the book is called?"
Dafne starred at him in surprise,
"No, that's the name of the playwright. William Shakespeare. The book is a collection of his plays."
"Plays?" Capricorn repeated intently.
"Er, yes." Dafne said, not sure what to make of Capricorn's ignorance, "These are all the tragic ones like Hamlet."
"And how are they tragic?" asked Capricorn.
"Well a lot of them end in death," Dafne replied.
"How interesting," Capricorn murmured and without warning, he reached over and picked the book from Dafne's hands, "I had suspected something of the sort from the skull on the cover. That's what intrigued me about it when I saw it in my reader's collection."
Dafne didn't know what to make of any of this. Why hadn't Capricorn read the book and found out the information she had just given him himself?
But none of this seemed to matter when Capricorn looked from the book to her with a smirk that made her heart quicken,
"So, my little maid, you can read."
"Yes of course I can," said Dafne, perplexed by the significance of the revelation, "So what?"
"So what, she says, so what?" Capricorn said softly with bemusement, "How many of my maids do you think can read? How many of my men for that matter?"
Dafne shrugged.
"Resa can read."
"Resa?" said Capricorn with scepticism, "Resa is mute. How do you know she can read?"
Immediately Dafne regretted her loose tongue. Resa's correspondence was supposed to remain a secret. Capricorn could easily pass on the information to Mortola. But there was no way of evading the question now. Capricorn was regarding her impatiently.
Dafne sighed,
"She writes me notes. That's how we communicate."
"Notes," Capricorn sneered, "How sweet. No doubt that helped organise your little escape plan. And right under the old woman's nose too. I know she would be interested to learn this. But that's of no concern to me right now. Right now, I'm more concerned with the gift that's fallen into my lap. And to think, I was planning on beating you senseless."
The last part sent chills up Dafne's spine. She imagined herself strewn unconscious on the floor with a bleeding broken nose. She was so grateful a book had saved her from a fate like that.
"Here," Capricorn said, shoving said book at her, "Take it. Resa may be able to read like you say but she had no voice. It's a voice that's needed here. I want you to read out loud to me."
Dafne starred at him in confusion.
"You want me to what?"
Capricorn gave a snarl of exasperation.
"Read girl, read! It's not too difficult to understand," he grabbed the book, flipped it open to a random page and thrust it back, "There, start from there."
Dafne looked down at the page. Hamlet. Act 3. Scene 1.
"Are you sure, it's halfway through..." she took one look at Capricorn's angry face and began to read,
"King Claudius:
And can you, by no drift of circumstance
Get from him why he puts on this confusion
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
Rosencrantz:
He does confess he feels himself distracted;
But from what cause he will by no means speak.
Guildenstern:
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state
Queen Gertrude:
Did he..."
"Enough!" Capricorn cut in.
Dafne glanced up. Capricorn was looking scrutinisingly around the room.
"Nothing is happening," he was muttering furiously to himself.
"What isn't happening?" she asked confusedly.
Capricorn ignored her and strode over to sink into his armchair. He rubbed his face through his hands with agitated sigh.
"No matter, no matter, Darius will have to suffice for the moment. Until I find Silvertongue, I must find Silvertongue," he turned his attention back to Dafne, "Well that was something of a disappointment. Still, I can find a use for you. It would be a shame to squander that talent. You don't stutter for one thing."
"Do - do you want me to keep reading?" asked Dafne uncertainly.
Capricorn waved his hand,
"No, that's enough for now. Besides, I have something else in mind. I've decided that you are going to teach me to read."
Dafne left Capricorn's room feeling a little stunned. It had been a surprise to learn Capricorn was illiterate. A bigger surprise that he would appoint her to be his teacher. Dafne was no teacher. She had no experience or qualifications. But she also had no choice in the matter. Capricorn commanded it and teaching him to read was vastly preferable to being beaten senseless or strangled.
As she descended the staircase, she heard two voices whispering angrily at each other in muffled argument.
"I told you I'm not leaving."
"You're not supposed to be here. What happens if Mortola comes?"
"I'm not afraid of her."
"You'll get us both in trouble. She'll think I'm the one who let you in."
"Well that's your problem isn't it?"
"Exactly, that's why I'll throw you out if I have to."
Dafne identified the two before she reached the end of the stairs. It was Basta and Orlanda. And they were not so engaged in their bickering as to miss the sound of her approaching footsteps. While both turned their heads in somewhat comical unison, their expressions couldn't have been more different. Orlanda looked highly annoyed. Basta looked triumphant.
"See? She's here now. I only need a minute."
Orlanda stormed over and clamped a fat, strong hand down on Dafne's shoulder.
"I don't think so," she said imperiously, "This one's supposed to be in bed. And unless you're going to make it my while, that's exactly what's going to happen."
Basta shot her a smile that looked more like a dog baring its teeth,
"I don't think so," he growled, "I'll be damned if I've waited all this time for nothing. Now get your hand off her."
Orlanda puffed herself to her full intimidating height, "Or what?"
Without hesitating, Basta drew out his knife, "Or I'll cut it off."
Before Orlanda could voice a retort, Dafne spoke up,
"Stop it!"
She was surprised by the authority that carried in her voice. So were Orlanda and Basta, who were now staring at her mutely. Dafne used to silence to continue,
"I don't care what you have to say to me," she told Basta firmly, "I don't want to hear it. Just leave me alone."
Now it was Orlanda's turn to look triumphant.
"See, she doesn't want to see you. Now if you'll excuse us..."
"Stay out of it," Basta snapped before turning back to Dafne, "I wanted to see if you were okay."
Dafne's composure crumbled rapidly.
"Concerned about my welfare are you?" she said spitefully, "Or is damaged goods what you're really worried about. You want a maid in good condition. Is that why you're asking if I'm okay?"
"That's got nothing to do with it," said Basta agitatedly, "You haven't given me the chance to explain..."
He moved towards her only to have Orlanda's bulk block his path.
"It's time to go," Orlanda said, "Leave your lovers' spat for another time. You've already made too much noise."
Dafne knew that Orlanda had not placed herself between them on Dafne's behalf. It was self-protection that Orlanda was concerned with. She knew full well that raised voices had the potential of summoning Mortola.
Basta showed no signs of caring.
"I told you stay out of this."
Beyond Orlanda, Dafne caught the gleam of Basta's knife. She darted under Orlanda's arm to grab hold of his. He looked at her in surprise but did nothing to jolt her hand away.
"Stop it," she told him wearily, "You really think that threatening people with your knife is going to solve anything."
"I'll put it away if you want, little mouse," Basta said, "But only if you listen to what I have to say."
Dafne sighed,
"Is there really that much to say?"
Basta's eyes roamed over her face,
"Did he hurt you?"
Dafne shook her head, "No. Did you think he would?"
Basta shrugged,
"I wasn't sure."
"Would you have done anything if he had?" Dafne asked.
Basta shifted uncomfortably. He didn't answer.
"I thought so," Dafne said, letting go of his arm, "But I understand that. You're loyal to him."
She turned away.
"Wait!" said Basta, "You said you'd listen, little mouse."
Dafne turned back.
"And you said you'd put away your knife."
Basta made a noise of impatience but fulfilled his promise nonetheless, stowing the blade.
"There. Happy? Now will you listen?"
Dafne nodded.
"Finally! Alright then, about you being my maid, you've gotten the wrong idea. It's not some scheme I cooked up to suit myself" Basta paused to scowl at Dafne's raised eyebrow, "Don't look at me like that, little mouse, this is the truth. The truth is that I thought you might be safer with me than in Capricorn's house with the old hag."
"So you're doing this to protect me?" said Dafne, her disbelief evident, "Do you really expect me to believe that?"
"Yes, it's the truth, I swear."
Dafne frowned. He actually sounded genuine.
"Why me," she asked, "What makes me so special? There are dozens of maids."
"I don't know," Basta replied exasperatedly, "I just..." he sighed, "It's because of Silvio."
"Silvio," said Dafne confused, "What's he got to do with it?"
"Well, the boy's always worrying about you and pestering me to do something," Basta explained, "I'm doing this so he'll shut up about it."
Dafne mulled this over for a moment.
"So you're telling me this is all for Silvio," she said finally, "That you're just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?"
Basta snorted,
"Kindness? Don't make me laugh, little mouse. I just want some peace and quiet."
"Peace and quiet," interjected Orlanda, startling both of them, "That would be ideal right about now," she eyed Basta, "I suggest you skulk off so I can get some."
Basta threw her a dirty look but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Dafne beat him to it.
"Orlanda," she said amicably, "I'm sure Basta would appreciate your discretion on what's been said tonight."
"Of course," said Orlanda, grinning smugly at Basta, "After all I'm a romantic at heart... for the right price."
For a second, Basta looked as though he might explode with rage. But he gritted his teeth, stifling any angry words before they flew out his mouth.
"We'll settle that later, shall we?" he hissed.
Orlanda gave a mock bow, "I can hardly wait," she turned to Dafne, "It's time to go."
"Just one more thing please," said Dafne.
"Make it quick," grumbled Orlanda.
"Let's just say I believe you," Dafne told Basta, who stopped glaring daggers at Orlanda to look at her, "And the only reason I believe you is because I don't believe you'd lie about Silvio," Basta made a noise of agreement, "In any case," Dafne went on, "Capricorn has just made the discovery that I can read and he's decided he wants me to teach him. So while I appreciate what you're doing, I'm not getting my hopes up of leaving this place anytime soon."
Basta didn't speak. He took to staring sullenly at his feet.
"Basta?" Dafne said, causing him to look up.
"Yes."
She held his gaze without wavering, their faces matched in solemnity.
"If you can't help me, at least help Silvio, don't... don't make him start fires."
Basta looked away, his brow furrowed, "You're asking a lot, little mouse, perhaps too much."
"I know," she said, "But please try."
She nodded to Orlanda,
"I'm ready."
The two maids departed, leaving Basta, a forlorn figure in the shadows at the bottom of the staircase.
To be continued...
Ziliverina: LOL I meant MARK Strong not Mary Strong. I didn't realise until I read your review and edited it. Embarrassing typo. Google MARK Strong and see what you think. He's been in films like Sherlock Holmes and Robin Hood. As for Dafne's (over)reaction, at this point she doesn't see Basta as anything more than a knife-wielding bad guy who kidnapped her. She is unable to see past that and recognise that he is trying to be nice to her. Hence her shouting at him.