anner.bloodandgold(v2)-第28部分
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Avicus was dreadfully disappointed and disapproving。
〃Marius； I thank you；〃 he said； sad and weary as he walked me to the gate。 〃What could I have done if you had refused to e to us？ I owe you an immense debt。〃
〃There is no Good Mother；〃 I told him。 〃I bid you farewell。〃
As I hurried back over the rooftops of Rome； towards my own house； I resolved in my soul that I'd told them the truth。
7
I WAS VERY SURPRISED the next night to find the walls of my library pletely painted over。 I had forgotten that I'd given such a mand to my slaves。 As soon as I saw all the pots of fresh paint in any number of colors； I then remembered what I had told them to do。
Indeed； I couldn't think of anything but Mael and Avicus and must confess I was more than fascinated by the mixture of civilized manners and quiet dignity which I found in Avicus and not at all in Mael。
Mael would always be for me a barbarian； unlettered； unrefined； and above all fanatical； for it was due to his fanatic belief in the Gods of the Grove that he had taken my life。
And realizing that the only way I could escape my thoughts of the pair was to paint： the newly prepared walls； I set to work at once。
I took no notice of my guests who were already dining of course； and of those going and ing through the garden and the open gate。
Realize； if you will； that by this time I did not have to hunt for blood that often； and though I was still much too much the savage in this respect； I often left it till late in the evening or early in the morning； or did not hunt at all。
So to the painting； I went。 I didn't stand back and take stock of what I meant to do。 Rather I went at it fiercely； covering the wall in great glaring patches； making the usual garden which obsessed me； and the nymphs and goddesses whose forms were so familiar to my mind。
These creatures had no names for me。 They might have e from any verse in Ovid； or from the writing of Lucretius； or indeed from the blind poet； Homer。 It was no matter to me。 I lost myself in depicting uplifted arms and graceful throats； in painting oval faces and garments blowing gently in the breeze。
One wall I divided with painted columns； and around these I painted vines。 Another wall； I worked with stiff borders of stylized greenery。 And the third wall I allotted into small panels in which I would feature various gods。
Meantime； the house grew crowded with the ever noisy party； and some of my favorite drunkards drifted inevitably into the library and watched me at work。
I knew enough to slow my pace somewhat so as not to scare them with my unnatural speed。 But otherwise； I took no notice； and only when one of the lyre players came in to sing for me did I realize how mad the house must seem。
For there were people dining and drinking everywhere now； and the master of the house in his long tunic stood painting a wall； the proper work for craftsmen or artists； not Patricians you understand； and there seemed no decent boundary of any kind。
I began to laugh at the absurdity of it。
One of the young guests marveled at my talent。
〃Marius； you never told us。 We never imagined。〃
〃Neither did I；〃 I said dully； going on with my work； watching the white paint disappear beneath my brush。
For months I went on with my painting； even moving into the banquet room where the guests cheered me on as I worked。 Whatever I acplished it did not please me and it certainly did not amaze them。
They thought it amusing and eccentric that a rich man should decorate his own walls。 And all the drunken advice I received did not amount to very much。 The learned men knew the mythic tales I depicted and they enjoyed them； and the young men tried to get me in arguments which I refused。
It was the spacious garden I loved to paint above all； with no painted frame to set it apart from our world with its dancing figures and bending laurels。 It was the familiar garden。 For I imagined that I could escape into it with my mind。
And during that time I did not risk attending to the chapel。 Rather I painted all the rooms of my house。
Meantime； the old gods whom I painted were fast disappearing from the Temples of Rome。
At some point or other； Constantine had made Christianity the legal religion of the Empire； and now it was the pagans who couldn't worship as they chose。
I don't think Constantine himself was ever in favor of forcing anybody in religious matters。 But that's what had e about。
So I painted poor old Bacchus； the god of wine； with his cheerful followers； and the brilliant Apollo chasing the desperate and lovely Daphne who turned into a laurel tree rather than allow the godly rape。
On and on I worked； happy with mortal pany； thinking； Mael and Avicus； please do not search my mind for secrets。
But in truth all during this time I could hear them very near me。 My mortal banquet parties puzzled them and frightened them。 I could hear them approach my house and then go away every night。
Finally the inevitable night came。
They stood at my gate。
Mael was for ing in without permission； and Avicus kept him back； begging me with the Mind Gift to admit them once more。
I was in my library； painting it over for the third time； and the dinner party that night； thank the gods； had not spilled over into the room。
I put down my brush。 I stared at my unfinished work。 It seemed another Pandora had emerged in the unfinished Daphne and it struck a tragic chord in my heart that Daphne had eluded her lover。 What a fool I'd been to escape mine。
But for a long self…indulgent moment I looked at what I had painted…this unearthly creature with her rippling brown hair。
You understood my soul； I thought； and now others are ing only to sack my heart of all its riches。 What am I to do？ We argued； yes； you and I； but it was with loving respect； was it not？ I cannot endure without you。 Please e to me； from wherever you are。
But there was no time for my solitude。 It suddenly seemed rather precious； no matter how much of it I had had in the past years。
I closed off my happy human guests from the library； and then silently； I told the blood drinkers that they might e in。
Both were richly dressed； and their swords and daggers were encrusted with jewels。 Their cloaks were fixed at the shoulder with rich clasps and even their sandals were ornamented。 They might have been preparing to join the opulently clad citizens of the new capital； Constantinople； where great dreams were still being realized though Constantine was now dead。
It was with mixed feelings that I gestured for them to sit down。
However much I wished that I had allowed Mael to perish； I was drawn to Avicus…to his keen expression and the friendly way in which he regarded me。 I had time to observe now that his skin was a lighter brown than it had been； and that its dark tone gave a rather sculpted quality to his strong features； especially his mouth… As for his eyes they were clear and held no cunning or lie。
Both remained standing。 They looked anxiously in the direction of the mortal banquet room。 Once again； I urged them to be seated。
Mael stood； quite literally looking down his hawk nose at me； but Avicus took the chair。
Mael was still weak and his body emaciated。 Quite obviously； it would take many nights of drinking from his victims before the damage done him would be pletely healed。
〃How have things been with you？〃 I asked； out of courtesy。
And then out of private desperation I let my mind envision Pandora。
I let my mind pletely recall her in all her splendid details。 I hoped thereby to send the message of her to both of them； so that she； wherever she was； might receive this message somehow； a message which I； on account of the blood I had given her in her making； could not send on my own。
I don't know that either received any impression of my lost love。
Avicus answered my question politely but Mael said not one word。
〃Things are better for us；〃 said Avicus。 〃Mael heals well。〃
〃I want to tell you certain things；〃 I menced without asking whether or not they wanted such kn
