Chapter 4. Wrath (9)
Canui’s work was also nearing completion. Perhaps because they were living together while working, the progress had accelerated, and it seemed like they would be able to see the finished piece in just a few more days.
If only Canui hadn’t run into problems.
“What’s the matter?”
The Grand Duke, who had been sitting in a spot where he could see both Ronen and the canvas while looking over documents, raised his eyebrows when he noticed Canui approaching hesitantly. Canui carefully held out several paint materials that were almost used up.
“…You mean you need more.”
At the Grand Duke’s words, Canui nodded. The Grand Duke gestured to a servant standing nearby. Then Canui frantically waved both hands.
“What now.”
Canui pointed to himself with his finger and nodded. His wide-open eyes were bloodshot. It was a euphemistic expression. The Grand Duke propped his chin and tapped the desk with the pen he was holding.
“There’s no need for you to go personally.”
Canui shook both his hands and head as if that was impossible. He set down the used paint materials on the desk and alternately pointed to them and his own eyes.
“Wouldn’t it be fine to just buy the same ones?”
Canui shook his head vigorously. He continued pointing to his own eyes while staring intently. He also pointed to the painting that was nearing completion and shook his head at all the paint materials he had. The Grand Duke sighed in frustration and said to the servant.
“If he says he has to see them personally to buy them, there’s nothing we can do. Go with him.”
“Understood.”
Only then did Canui’s expression brighten. As Canui was about to shoulder his art supplies bag with the necessary paint materials, the Grand Duke gestured.
“Check if there’s anything other than art supplies.”
The servant thoroughly checked Canui’s clothes, shoes, inside his hat, and even inside the box containing his art supplies. The Grand Duke also watched quietly from the side before turning his gaze back to his documents.
Canui waited for the carriage with the servant. When the coachman arrived shortly after, the servant was about to instruct him to go to a nearby place, but Canui vehemently objected. The servant had no choice but to head to the art supply shop that Canui had originally frequented. Canui sat right next to the coachman and guided the way with hand and foot gestures. He was quite skilled, so the coachman drove without difficulty.
When they entered the art supply shop they had arrived at, the clerk recognized Canui and welcomed him warmly.
“It’s been a while, master. I was actually waiting, thinking it was about time for you to come.”
He then selected items that Canui had used before and spread them out on the display. At first glance, they all looked like the same colors, but Canui meticulously chose materials by lifting them up to check under the light and comparing two at once.
The servant watched this for a while but quickly lost interest and looked around. There were quite a few interesting items, so that was less boring.
Canui glanced at him while calculating and quickly brought his hand to his mouth. What he had been holding in his mouth overlapped with the coins in his hand. The clerk noticed Canui’s action and quickly spoke up.
“Oh, the gentleman who came with you seems to have excellent taste. What you’re looking at now came in new today. It’s from the same place where our master likes to get his supplies.”
At the clerk’s words, the servant, who had been about to turn his head toward them, directed his gaze back to the items in front of him. Taking advantage of this moment, when the clerk extended his hand, Canui nodded and handed over what was in his hand. The coin-sized item was wrapped in oil-soaked cloth. The clerk discreetly received it and nodded.
“Well then, farewell. I’ll see you again next time.”
Canui calmly left the art supply shop with the servant as if nothing had happened.
***
The firewood caught fire. The flames swelled in size instantly. Though she tried to escape the soaring flames that gaped wide, being tied to the pillar, all she could manage was pitiful struggling. She was slowly devoured starting from her toes.
The woman’s screams, filled only with pain, echoed throughout the square. Black smoke covered the sky and ash scattered on the wind, but the crowds surrounding the area only watched the woman being burned alive.
The sin of corrupting women. The sin of making them sell their bodies under her. Such was the miserable end of a brothel keeper.
On one side, a hanging was taking place. Prostitutes consumed by the terror of death looked at the execution platform with fearful eyes. A rope was placed around the neck, and thunk. The floor opened and she fell. The woman struggled with the rope pulled taut and her hands and feet bound. Those who would soon end their lives in the same manner watched that sight.
The heart-rending screams suddenly stopped. Black smoke was still rising to the sky. Only after completely devouring everything would the flames die down.
Among those standing in line waiting for their turn, one woman slowly lifted her head. Her eyes, which had always sparkled, were now black and dead. She looked at the flames blazing high, using the pitiful lady as kindling, and moved her arms with difficulty. With her hands bound by rope, she made the sign of the cross.
“…I’ll be coming soon too, my lady.”
She offered a final farewell to her longtime colleague who had fed, clothed, taught, and sheltered her after she was sold for a few coins, and with whom she had sometimes shared drinks and dreamed of a better future once she had grown up somewhat, being in similar circumstances.
She tried to console herself that at least there were many colleagues accompanying her on the journey to departure.
Eckart, who was watching from a distance, also comforted their deaths with all his heart. He muttered a short prayer and made the sign of the cross. He earnestly hoped that mercy and blessing would be with them.
As God’s representative, he hoped that the sins of all those who had come to judge those pitiful women would be lightened even a little.
Eckart, who had been standing there for a long time, finally managed to move his body. His steps were heavy as if someone had grabbed his ankle. It was difficult to advance one step at a time.
So when he had only made it to the entrance of the square, he saw people gathered in one place. They were bursting into pleasant laughter. The voice of an actor inducing laughter could also be heard. Beyond the people, he could glimpse a theatrical performance.
While countless people’s lives were disappearing as dew on the execution ground right there in the square, a traveling troupe was performing not far away. Eckart felt only frustration, as if his insides were completely blocked.
“…Insane.”
It was something he said without realizing. Eckart tried to pass by while fidgeting with his collar that felt like it was choking him. There was a voice that caught his steps.
“Oh, your appearance right now looks just like the angel of the back alleys!”
“What? You’re saying I look like a male prostitute right now?”
“Oh my? A male prostitute? I’m saying your actions are like an angel now, but since you happen to be doing those good deeds for back-alley ruffians, I used that expression?”
“Are you saying this woman really doesn’t know who the angel of the back alleys is and used that expression?”
“There was a male prostitute with that nickname? I really didn’t know. Did you all know?”
“Look! Everyone’s nodding! Where on earth have you been wandering around that you don’t even know that? Ah, come to think of it… maybe we should call him the angel of empty streets now instead of the angel of the back alleys!”
“The angel of empty streets, what a pitiful angel! If no one’s around, you can’t do good deeds!”
“This woman? You think he got that nickname because he was really an angel? Aren’t you stupid?”
The wife tilted her head as if she couldn’t understand why her husband was calling her stupid. The husband beat his chest, frustrated at living with such a foolish wife. At his ridiculous expression and exaggerated gestures, the audience burst into laughter.
Eckart stood still and watched such actors. The gaze of the actor playing the husband role rested on Eckart and then fell away.
Even after that, the foolish conversation and actions of the couple continued to repeat. Most of it was the wife’s mistakes in not understanding her husband’s words and taking them in the wrong way. The audience laughed at the wife’s unintentional mistakes and the husband who became troubled or frustrated because of them.
However, the phrase “angel of the back alleys” never came up again. The actors’ gazes were the same. The gaze that had seemed to be checking stopped at just once.
Eckart waited until the performance ended. Satisfied audience members threw coins and went their separate ways. When it became quiet, the makeshift performance venue revealed itself. It was a small theater troupe, slightly better equipped than a puppet show.
He approached the actors who were busily cleaning up the stage. Among them, the actor who had played the husband and made eye contact with Eckart took large bundles in his arms and walked behind the stage. Eckart also followed him behind the stage. That place was dark with shadows.
He was just about to speak. The actor spoke first.
“If you have something you’re curious about, ask quickly. We’ll be leaving soon.”
When Eckart still said nothing, the actor opened his mouth again as if frustrated.
“Didn’t you follow because you’re curious about where the angel of the back alleys escaped to?”
It wasn’t just his imagination after all. He had definitely said those words as if for him to hear on purpose.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
