A PROMISE AND A CURSE by Stefan
Part 12 / Chapter 10
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INTERLUDE
"Not power, not wealth, only art is eternal."
The whispered words resounded loudly in the high, long nave. He wiped ponderously over his mouth, the long sleeve of his brown habit rustled. The chaplain's small eyes examined the round dark red grave plate with the engraving of Tycho Brahe's figures. It almost seemed as if the invisible lips were twisted to a sad smile. He found the engraving most appropriate for the treasure he was hiding behind the wooden calvary group in the left chapel of the church.
A low sigh wavered through the darkness.
He took the gas lamp again and silently crossed the nave, passed the high altar and vanished through a little gap behind the wood carved crucifixion group. He sat the lamp down and removed a cloth. His eyes were glistening with joy. This was it ... Holy Mary with her chubby cheeked son in her arms was smiling indulgently at him. Furtively he stretched out his hands to caress the wooden coat. Her mother, Anna, and Joseph stood beside her to watch the ascent to heaven. Now the altar was complete. Finally! he sighed and wiped again over his mouth. He scratched his chin where stubbles began to itch. The parish would be pleased to see it again in all its glory. The way it has to be. Complete.
Thankfully he thought about the man who had made it possible. The altar always belonged to be here, in his church, the most glorious church of Prague, although the grand master of the Maltese Order demanded it from him. Said it would carry a secret. Jan's eyes scanned the sculpture. What could it be? A hidden spot? An ability to work miracles? The grand master won't tell him. Jan shuddered at the mere thought of the gaunt man with the bald head, the bushy gray brows and the cold, rasping voice.
He loosened his gaze from the Madonna and peered through the slit. Darkness surrounded him, only the light of the lamp illuminated the ship. Dark brown stone, misty atmosphere, that was his life. He loved to be here.
Slowly he put the cloth over again and slipped through the gap. The habit was only a shadow in the gloominess. Silently he entered the stony spiral staircase behind the altar leading him to his tiny flat high above in one of the towers. It was his refuge.
CHAPTER TEN
Today would be the big day. Nicholas opened his eyes by the first crack of dawn and looked around. He felt Marcus' warm body behind his back, his arm draped around himself, his fingers embracing his half erect penis. He was still sleeping and his steady breath touched Nick's bare shoulder.
The light green curtains were pulled and bathed the spacious bedroom of the Ritz Hotel into the twilight of a forest. Nick almost giggled at the memory when they had arrived yesterday and wanted to have the biggest suite the hotel could supply. The hotel manager had raised his eyebrows and his ears had reddened for a brief moment when he looked both men up and down but had regained his composure very quickly again.
Nick had been reluctant about that famous hotel and it's prancing wealth but Marcus had said he had never stayed here and wanted to try it out. "And, of course, nothing's to good for you, angel" he had added. "Do me the favour, yes?"
Nick had felt like the boy toy of a rich man but didn't object. After all it was meant as fun. And today would be the day when they would join the big auction for Gianni Versace's estate.
Marcus stirred behind him and his fingers clasped his cock firmly. Nicholas jumped and tried to free himself from the grip. But Marcus didn't let loose and began to stroke it, almost involuntarily, Nick gave in and surrendered to the pleasant feelings.
"Morning, angel. Slept well?" he heard Marcus' sleepy voice, he never stopped stroking until Nicholas' body tensed and he shed his cum over Marcus hand and the sheets. A deep moan from his throat and Marcus giggled like a boy. "Ah, you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
He turned Nick's body to his back, wiped the sticky semen from his hand and smeared it over Nicholas' belly. He laughed about his young lover's contented expression and gave him a quick kiss. "I can see it."
"Why are you so cheerful this morning?" Nick muttered exhausted.
"And why does it wear you out that much?" Marcus asked slightly concerned.
Nicholas opened his eyes abruptly, pulled the cushion from his back and threw it over Marcus' head. "And why do you attack me like this in the morning, eh?" he laughed.
"Ouch." Marcus tried to follow Nicholas who had jumped out of the bed and chased him into the bathroom. "I'll get you for this."
"Look, there's Donatella!" Marcus whispered into Nicholas' ear. They sat in the auction room at Sotheby's like they would attend a concert. Nicholas saw Gianni's sister dressed in black with long, almost white, hair. He knew her from several TV programs and was excited. Both followed her walk to the podium where the auctioneer had already taken his seat and listened to her melodious speech. Since it was in Italian he couldn't understand a word but Marcus translated then and again some of it. "Did you ever meet Gianni?" Nick whispered. "No, never. Think I was too old for him anyway. He preferred young guys I think." Marcus winked. Nicholas looked him suspiciously up and down. "Certainly you're much too old!" Marcus shushed him because now one of the Picasso paintings was carried in. It was a small drawing and Marcus leafed through his catalogue. He pointed at one and showed it to Nick. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Drawing, 1935, 40 X 70 centimetres. Start bids at 11,000 Pounds." Nicholas gasped, "11,000 Pounds, that's about ... 30,000 Marks! Will you bid for this?" Marcus nodded and made a silent sign to the auctioneer. "Bid is at 11,500 Pounds." Other signs followed when Nicholas looked around. He couldn't believe that anybody should spend so much money on that little drawing. It didn't look even especially interesting to him. He could do better, he thought briefly. But after all, it was Picasso and was a good investment, nothing more. The auctioneer couldn't follow as quickly as the bids were set and the drawing went to an old man sitting in the last row. Nick looked at Marcus but he seemed calm as ever. Perhaps he didn't bid seriously. Then he noticed Marcus turning, surprised because someone had tapped on his shoulder. "Karl! How nice to meet you again. Tomorrow we wanted to see you." Marcus sounded seriously pleased. Karl grinned and put his forefinger over his lips. His eyes turned to Nicholas, he smiled and nodded. Nick had never seen Marcus' employee before but he liked him. The next drawing was carried in and set upon an easel. "No. 2, 1940, 'Nightmare', etching. Offer is 7,000 Pounds." The game began once more. Marcus studied the audience, saw familiar faces and nodded when they met his gaze. Then he caught sight of a face belonging to a man sitting several rows in front of him. Honey coloured hair, a long thin nose and rosy, fleshy lips. George. He grinned, unveiling his teeth and winked shamelessly. Marcus' face lost its colour. This he had feared. Silently and instinctively he groped for Nicholas's hand. Nick looked at him in surprise and followed his gaze. The honey coloured haired man was still grinning, now at himself. He slowly pulled something out from his trousers pocket and lifted it into the air. When he shook it slightly Nicholas could recognize a pair of black socks. He narrowed his eyes in case he had seen something wrong but it was still a pair of socks. Incredulous he looked back at Marcus who sat thunderstruck but then he couldn't suppress a grin. His pair of socks he had forgotten by his hastily vanishing from George's house. Crazy guy, he thought. George's head nodded now to a young man beside him and Marcus understood this sign. He didn't come alone and wanted to show him his newest conquest, apparently. Well, hopefully that guy was able to wake George's sexual interest without vast amounts of Port wine. Poor guy. Marcus looked at Nick and mouthed George's name. Nicholas frowned and examined the British. He didn't look bad but he definitely wasn't his type of guy. "What does he want with the socks?" he whispered. "It's mine. Forgot them at his house." Marcus' cheeks flushed briefly. It was too embarrassing but Nick grinned and shook his head. "Scatterbrain." Marcus was relieved that Nick wasn't mad. The young man beside George was quite a beauty from what Nicholas could make out. Glossy black hair, falling down over his neck and nice, small ears. His profile was classic when he turned to George and smiled at him. George leaned closer to his body to let Marcus and Nicholas know that he was his own. Marcus turned to Karl and whispered, "Ever seen that man over there?" "The blond guy with the long nose? Sure, George Rosenstock. Son of the owners of an optic glass factory. Don't you know him?" "Too well." "Then why do you ask? Alex wanted to come, but he's late apparently." "Alex?" Marcus sounded startled. "Yeah, why he shouldn't know that you supplied him the job in the tea shop, you never told me the reason." "Tell you another time, but for now you must promise me to keep it secret, yes?" "Ok." "10,000 Pounds" the auctioneer told the audience and Marcus lifted his hand with the catalogue. "10,500 Pounds." He looked around. "11,000 Pounds." Marcus turned and recognized the old man sitting in the last row. It was Heinz Berggruen, one of Berlin's art patrons and famous Picasso collector. Surely he was here to get as many Picasso's as he was able. Actually Marcus hadn't any chance to get it and he asked himself if he and Nick should leave the auction. He too wasn't too fond of the Spanish painter but he had promised one of his customers that he would bring him one of his etchings no matter how high the price was. So he lifted his hand again. "11,500 Pounds." the auctioneer said and a moment later "12,000. Any new bids? 12,500. Thank you sir." He nodded to Marcus. Donatella Versace sitting aside was smiling. "13,000 Pounds." Nicholas was getting nervous. Marcus wanted to spend a fortune on that boring etching? What could he do with this mountain of money! He poked Marcus in the ribs to stop that mad bidding but Marcus smiled. "It's a good investment, believe me. We'll get all the money back." Again he lifted his hand. "13,500 Pounds." This time the auctioneer waited in vain for another bid, knocked with his wooden hammer and the etching was Marcus' own. "Sold for 13,500 Pounds to the man with the number 45. Thank you sir." The next drawing appeared. "Come, we're out of this." He turned to Karl. "You're coming with us?" Karl nodded. Nicholas threw a last glance to George but he and his companion had vanished. Probably they missed their leaving during the bidding. But in the hall he saw both standing at a bar, drinking. Just in time George turned to greet Marcus. His striking gray eyes sparkled and he lifted his Martini. "Cheers to you Marcus. Didn't expect to meet you so soon again." He darted a glance to Nicholas at his side. "And this has to be ... Nicholas, right?" Nick remained silent. The young man at George's side turned and revealed romantic black eyes but to Nicholas it seemed as if they would gleam with a spark or shock when his gaze met Marcus. "Sir?" A young woman spoke to Marcus. "May I ask you to come with me to sign the contract?" "Huh? Oh sorry, of course." He took Nicholas's arm. "Be right back, Nicki. I leave you with Karl, don't be afraid. It won't take long." He smiled and followed the woman. "Nice to meet you Mr. Rosenstock. Nothing interesting for you to buy?" Karl asked. "I'm an employee of Marcus Weidenbruch, I don't think we met before." George politely shook Karl's hand and his eyes wandered again to Nicholas standing silently along side. "How are you, boy? I see Marcus and you reconciled?" He spoke slowly so Nicholas could follow his English. Nicholas didn't know what to say and Karl looked confused at him. "Um, yes, as you can see," he managed to say. His English wasn't that good and he was embarrassed. "This is Andrea, my Italian boy." George said proudly and put a hand on Andrea's back. Andrea's red lips grinned but actually he wasn't prepared to meet Marcus Weidenbruch. George had mention the possibility they they could meet him though. But what should happen? Marcus didn't know him and if he ever should put Sebastian and him together he could say that he left Sebastian and followed that Britisher. And it wouldn't be a lie. George grinned openly at Nicholas and said slowly, "His English is a bit difficult but it's enough to understand. But I remember you're speaking German well, don't you lover?" Andrea nodded. "And anyway," George lowered his voice for only Nicholas to hear, "you don't have to talk much in bed, do you?" His lips were close and Nicholas could small the Martini's. Obviously George had already more of them than was good for him. He stepped back and frowned. Karl followed all this with lack of understanding. "How do you know Mr. Rosenstock, actually?" he asked him. "I don't know him'" but this only added to Karl's confusion and he was glad when he recognized Alex from a distance. He waved and Alex came quickly nearer. "Sorry I'm late." Nicholas swirled around and stared right into Alex's face. It was too much for him. First George and now Alex. He desperately needed fresh air and Marcus wasn't coming. Alex was as embarrassed to see Nicholas as vice versa. It had been a long way for him to shake off his madness. He had decided to consult a psychiatrist and still did. It had helped his a lot and he was thankful that Marcus never made a report to the police. He looked into the young man's eyes and felt sorrow and shame. Haltingly he stretched out his hand and Nicholas took it after a while. The grip was strong and a bit wet and he could sense Alex's uneasiness. George on the other side was checking the young man out in his expensive looking light gray suit which let his deep eyes glow with a blue fire. Now, that was the boy Marcus had left him for, he thought. Well, he couldn't blame him. He was convinced that Nicholas had no idea that he was a very handsome young man. George smiled but Nick didn't respond. The gaze from his violet eyes was suddenly cool as if he had regained his strength. George's hand searched instinctively for Andrea's back for protection. Karl on the other hand didn't know what was going on, the air was a fog, only Andrea's red lips were smiling. Karl wrapped his hand around Nick's neck; he sensed that something was wrong here. A door clapped and Marcus, with an elegant woman, appeared on the corridor. "Thanks for everything, Rose," they heard him say. "It was a pleasure like always." He took Rose's hand in his and squeezed it. "I would be very grateful if you could find something, just don't forget, nothing too extravagant." His head turned to the group, standing at the bar in strange silence. All eyes were looking at him. He frowned, squeezed Rose's hand once more and went with long steps into the hall. It wasn't a good idea to leave Nick alone. His arriving broke the silence. George drank another Martini and lit a cigarette. "A fine young man you have here," he said quietly. His gaze was already glazed. "I can't compare with him can I?" The striking gray eyes wandered over Marcus to Andrea. But Andrea's expression was blank. Nicholas straightened his back and shoulders before he turned his back to George, gazing at Alex now. Waiting. Alex understood the silent sign and his eyes were flickering behind the glasses. "I knew I would find you here, Marcus," he said low. He struggled for words and Marcus was embarrassed. "I think we should discuss this at a dinner, what do you think?" His question was more addressed to Nick who nodded after a brief hesitation. Alex nodded too. "Karl?" "I don't know. Are you sure you want me there?" He was scratching his head. "Yes, please." Alex said quickly. Over the time he had spent in London Karl had become a good friend and probably it would help Alex to heal his psychic state. Since he was visiting his psychologist he felt an insatiable yearning to lay bare his soul. Marcus had taken Nicholas' hand in his and was nodding surprised. "I believe I'm not invited here, right" George's voice came from behind. "Sort of a family business, eh?" "Indeed so," Marcus replied. Andrea's anthracite eyes winked at Nick and a small smile appeared on Nicholas' lips. That guy was flirting with him behind George's back. Just as they wanted to leave the auction house, Marcus felt a hand at his shoulder and a soft voice near his ear. "It had been delightful three days for me with you. You don't want to have a look at the screen? It's still waiting for you where you left it. It's yours if you want." Marcus stood petrified, never losing Nicholas' hand. "The price is still the same?" he asked and George answered with a quick nod. Marcus' eyes met briefly Andrea's face and a jolt of recognition shot through him. He had seen this lad before. George noticed his staring and inhaled his cigarette. "Andrea shouldn't be an obstacle for us," he whispered. Andrea? "Are you Italian?" Andrea nodded and Marcus lifted an eyebrow. "Andrea!" it escaped him. "You once were with Sebastian, right? I've seen you in photos. Where's your mustache gone? And what are you doing here?" Andrea seemed to be slightly taken aback and licked his red lips. "Sebastian is over," he answered in German, "he left me for another guy." George pulled at his jacket sleeve and motioned him to speak English again but Andrea ignored him. "Thought he said YOU had left him from one guy to the other." Marcus looked to George who sat there sulking and smoking nervously. "Was he the reason?" Andrea grinned and winked again at Nicholas. "Please don't tell Sebastian." he said finally. "Why?" Andrea shrugged. "Now, what about the screen?" George whinged. "You know what?" Marcus said, "the screen can get lost, do what you want. Perhaps one day you'll find the grips to sell it again to the Leyland museum and I'll come back to visit it." He squeezed Nicholas' fingers and followed Karl and Alex. Andrea grinned sadly at Nicholas. "Do you really know him?" Nicholas asked excited when they were out of reach. Marcus nodded. "From Sebastian's tales. He complained that he was done, but consoled himself soon with other guys I suppose. Marcus shook his head. "What an odd coincidence. How could he come over to George for heaven's sake?" "Didn't you tell me once that life consists of coincidences, huh? Perhaps he was on holiday in Italy." "Yeah, probably. What did Alex say to you anyway?" "Nothing so far. We shook hands." "So? Maybe that's his way to say sorry." "I don't feel comfortable with him." Marcus stood and looked into Nick's glowing eyes. "We don't have to do this if you don't want. Look, I just want to be sure that Alex isn't a threat anymore, and the best way to find out is to talk to him." "That's only words." Then Nicholas shook his head. Marcus was right of course so he smiled helplessly and nodded finally.The smoke was burning into Andrea's eyes. He always hated George's habit to smoke while he was fucking him. George lay on his back, all limbs widely outstretched just then and again inhaled his cigarette to blow bluish gray smoke into the bedroom. The water bed was shaking furiously with Andrea's wild movements to end this ridiculous game. Frustrated, he looked down at George's groin and saw his only half hard erection. Something was terribly wrong with that British man. Andrea had only three or four times seen a full arousal and it made him sick. Perhaps something was wrong with himself, although Andrea never had heard a complaint before.
He looked briefly into George's relaxed face and could see the pleasure upon it. Inwardly he shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps this was enough for George. Just to feel a dick moving inside him, feeling it expanding and emptying. A moan escaped Andrea. He pulled back, threw the condom into a can under the bed and wiped his sweaty forehead. He had no intention of giving George any more relief as he just rolled on his side and closed his burning eyes. A giggle scared him. "That was good, lover boy," George whispered huskily. He squeezed out his cigarette and turned to his stomach.
Groaning, he humped the sheets until he found a pleasant position. Andrea never opened his eyes. It was a bad idea to stay any longer with this strange man. It was no pleasure to share his nights, not even his days. Surely enough he got everything he wants, he never had to care about anything, for money, for food, for clothes. If he returned to Rome he would be the star of every gay bar in town ... he smiled wickedly.
"What're you thinking about lover?" George whispered again. Andrea opened his eyes and found George staring directly into his eyes. He smelled the funny, salty odor of cum and wrinkled his nose. He usually liked this smell but sometimes he couldn't bear it. Not from George. He lifted his arm and covered his tired face with his palm.
"Did you like it as much as I like it, huh?" His face came even closer and Andrea smelled the smoke coming from his mouth. He turned his head but said nothing.
He had to go home. Soon.
His memory changed to Nicholas. He had liked this guy instantly, too bad he was with Marcus. Awkwardly he remembered that Marcus had recognized him but he was sure that he wasn't in danger. The altar pieces were safe in Prague.
Suddenly he sat upright. What if he played a little game on George, offering Marcus the place of the altar in exchange for the same amount of money George promised him? He blinked a few times. He was sure to know where Marcus stayed. After his leaving, Andrea had excused himself for the bathroom and had rushed out of the auction house to see the group crossing the street. There was only one hotel in this direction: The Ritz.
"What happened?" George asked and lifted himself likewise. His long fingers brushed the skin on Andrea's upper arm.
"You still owe me the money for the deal," Andrea mumbled.
"Huh?" George crawled closer and lifted his lover's face.
"Is that all you can think of now? Money?" He frowned visibly.
Andrea freed himself. "It was a deal after all." His dark eyes were burning into George's. He nodded slowly.
"It was a deal. All right. I thought there would be something more." His voice sounded insulted and Andrea felt instantly guilty. He touched George's hand. "Hey. I don't want to hurt you. Of course it isn't the money, it just came to my mind that you haven't paid me yet."
"But what about all the things I buy you, are they nothing?" George waved off. "It's ok. You want to have money for your own, I see." His eyes came nearer and were dangerously open. "Want to squander it in gay bars, huh?" He smiled a scary smile. "As long as you come back to me, I'm fine with it."
Andrea twinkled. "It's fine with you? I didn't know that I mean so little to you."
"Ah!" George giggled. "Be nice." He pushed Andrea back onto the sheets and showered him with little kisses. His hands groped for Andrea's cock. "I'm still hungry."
Andrea sighed. Madonna mia! If that was the price you have to pay. Lover boy.
For several minutes he allowed George's fumbling but then he pushed his fingers away. He lifted himself from the rumpled waterbed. Somehow its swaying movements had made him sick. Well, perhaps it was something more. While walking around the bed in the direction of the bathroom he felt George's bright gray eyes following him. He felt a tickle at his butt as if George's nails would still graze him.
"You're leaving me?"
Andrea hesitated at the door but didn't turn. "What do you mean?"
George propped himself on one elbow, "When I've paid you - will you leave me?"
Now Andrea turned with a broad smile. "Of course not! What makes you think that I would?"
George shrugged and lit a cigarette. Andrea's smile vanished when he entered the bathroom.
The tea room of the Ritz Hotel was one of the most exclusive places for the famous and the rich visitors and inhabitants of London. Andrea sat forlorn at one of the round tables, watching the other guests and their self-confident behaviour and how snotty nosed and easily the waiters moved as if they owned the tea room themselves.
He had chosen the place near the door where he could keep an eye on the lobby. He knew that neither Marcus nor Nick had left the hotel so he hoped that he wouldn't miss them. Bored he stared at an obese woman with an overbearing and tasteless hat. Some plastic cherries hung into her eyes. Annoyed she snipped them back before she turned again to her big fatty piece of cream cake - but not before she winked in his direction. Andrea frowned and looked away. Did he look like a rent boy?
She lifted a tiny fat pug and fed him a piece of banana. Andrea saw the little pink tongue licking the sweet fruit and heard the woman's cooing sounds. Again she glanced in his direction and winked. Andrea's face remained calm although he felt sick.
He saw a movement from the corner of his eyes and saw Nicholas standing haltingly at the door, unsure whether to enter the room or not.
"Hey," Andrea said low until Nick turned his head. Confused he looked at him before a little smile appeared on his face. He came closer. Andrea took his arm and pulled him down to the chair next to his.
"I've waited for you." Andrea began slowly in German.
"Why?"
"Do you want something to drink?" Andrea asked evasively.
Nick glanced at Andrea's cup of coffee and nodded. "What's up?" he asked.
His heart pounded. Andrea was the lover of strange George he knew - nothing more. Andrea lifted his hand and gave his order to the waiter. "Where's Marcus?" he asked.
"He's coming any minute." Nick didn't feel well in this surrounding and Andrea sensed it. He grinned at him. "Strange collection of odd people" he said, then he probed his black burning eyes into Nick's deep blue.
"I have important news for you both." He paused. "Or only for you - if you want."
"For me?"
The waiter arrived with the cup of coffee and disappeared silently. Andrea felt the woman with the pug looking at him. Now he smiled at her, putting a hand on Nicholas' thigh. Nick stirred and raised an eyebrow. Andrea bent over close to his face, "Do you know something about an old altar?"
Nick opened his eyes widely. "Altar?" He forgot Andrea's hand on his thigh and pondered. Altar, altar. There was something about an altar. Andrea fixed his gaze on Nicholas' face and envied Marcus. He sure was the luckier one having Nick as lover, not that funny Brit.
"Daniel," Nicholas exclaimed suddenly. "Do you mean the altar made by Michael Pacher?"
Andrea nodded.
"What's with it?"
Andrea's hand wandered Nick's thigh up and down while he fixated on the fat lady who realized his little game and now shot him a sinister look.
Andrea grinned. "I know where it is. Perhaps."
"What - perhaps?"
"Depends on." Andrea's eyes sparkled while his fingers crept in dangerously near Nick's balls under the table. First Nick wanted to push him away but then he burst into laughter. "Don't say you want to spend a week with me for telling me the place of the altar!" he exclaimed.
"Sshhht!" Andrea shushed him, looking around in mock awe before he joined Nick's laughter.
"What do you fear, nobody can understand us." Nick said. Then his smile vanished. "Say it was a joke."
"Of course." Andrea winked and Nick wasn't sure anymore. "Although ... " he left the sentence open. He had withdrawn his hand.
Nick emptied his coffee cup and leaned over. "Do you know where the altar is?"
"Yes, I know." He stared at Nicholas. "Are you interested in it?"
"Sure," Nick said reserved. "I know that Daniel is very sad about the loss. It belonged to his family for hundreds of years."
"Really? Didn't know that." Andrea paused. "Do you think Marcus would be interested too?"
"To learn the whereabouts? What a stupid question. Marcus is always interested in ancient or old pieces of art." He leaned forward and whispered. "Now tell me. Where is it. And how do you know."
Andrea brought his face near to Nick's and winked conspiratorially. "You didn't tell me what I get when I tell you."
Nick had to grin. "If you mean what I think you mean, then keep your secret to yourself please."
Andrea leaned back and sighed in mocking desperation. "Today's my lucky day." Then he continued, "You might remember, I was Sebastian's lover. Do you know Sebastian?"
He saw Nicholas nodding and continued, "Roberto - a friend of mine, helped Sebastian's cousin Daniel during harvest. He's living in Merano."
Again Nick nodded.
"They had a love affair. Roberto knew how precious the altar is." Andea paused and didn't know how to continue.
"And?" Nick asked impatiently. Just that minute he saw Marcus at the entrance, looking around.
"Marcus," Nick called low. Marcus looked confused at Andrea while he sat down. "What are you doing here, Andrea?"
He looked at Nick questioning. "Just listen, Marcus. I will explain later," Nick answered and motioned Andrea to go on. Andrea threw a look at Marcus nodding interest.
Andrea cleared his throat. "Roberto told me about the altar and I mentioned it one day to George."
Furtively he glanced under his curly fringe at the older man sitting beside him, but Marcus' face remained inscrutable. "You mean the Pacher altar" he said, suddenly comprehending. "Daniel von Falkenstein's altar?"
Andrea nodded. Then he sat upright again. "George got excited about it and wanted to have it."
Marcus' brows were a black line over his eyes. "Since when is George interested in works of Art?" He remembered that George hadn't any use for the Burne-Jones screen. He just bought it to get Marcus into his bed. "He said Art is too heavy for his brain, whatever this means."
Andrea shrugged. "Whatever. He wanted it, it's a long story."
Marcus folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back. "I have time."
"No we haven't." Nick threw in. "We have an appointment with Karl."
Marcus looked at his watch. "Oh yes. Afraid you must shorten the long story, Andrea."
The woman wobbled around the table, her dog pressed tightly to her breast and staring alternating at one of the men, absorbed in their talk. The audience left more and more to be desired lately, she sighed inwardly.
"George's brother-in-law works in stonemason and restorer. Currently he works at Prague's castle, and recently he helped to restore the Teyn church. He met the chaplain and guess what he showed him."
Marcus lifted his eyebrows.
"The other pieces of the Pacher Altar?" Nick asked.
"Exactly. I have no clue about these things but George told me that his sister got excited about it because it is most precious, an unknown piece of Art, included in no catalogue in the world."
Marcus nodded. So the rest of Daniel's altar was in Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic. He wondered how it found its way there.
"You know, it was the time when I met George and he occupied me so that I didn't see Sebastiano for a long time. George made the connection to Daniel and the Prague Altar and offered the chaplain to put both pieces together. Jan, the chaplain swore that the complete altar always belonged to his church and he's mad about religious pieces of work and the altar is supposed to carry a secret ... "
"Wait, I can't follow." Marcus interrupted. "So it was you who stole the altar? Right? Or somebody else? In commission of George?" His eyes pierced Andrea's who reciprocated the stare openly. "Yes, I did it. Wait." He lifted a hand. "I came here to make you a proposal."
He paused and licked his red lips. Marcus and Nick exchanged glances.
"I know where the altar is. I brought it over the border."
"Prague?" Nick asked.
"Yes, Jan took it and was happy. Now it is complete, he had mumbled."
Marcus shook his head. "A secret you say? What an odd story." He pondered one moment. The altar was complete ... actually he should be glad about it. But Daniel's family possessed the work for about three hundred years. Didn't he have a right to possess the complete one, too? And how could this Jan claim that he had a right to have it. How should a Pacher altar come to Prague? This must be a misunderstanding. And what was George's motivation here? Oh, well, certainly he knew George's abstruse thoughts and ideas. Perhaps it was a a game he wanted to play to fill out his moving days.
He felt the eyes of both young men on him and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "What did George promise you when you would steal the altar?" he asked finally.
"Lots of money of course," Andrea answered unperturbed.
"And lots of sex?"
Andrea's cheeks reddened briefly. Marcus grinned thinly. Certainly not lots of sex when he remembered George's difficulties. "Why do you do it? Why do you tell us now?" he demanded.
A sly grin appeared around Andrea's lips. "I'm fed up with George, he's gross, I don't want to share his bed any longer. But I do want the money . He didn't pay me yet."
"And now you want the money from me, have I this right?"
"Right. It's a deal, you give me the money and I tell you where the altar is."
"Deal." Marcus said short and sharply.
Nick looked surprised at him. But he knew his lover was a man of quick decisions.
Andrea stretched out his hand. "Deal." Marcus took it.
"It's in the Teyn church, Oldtown Circle, in the centre of Prague. Do you know?"
"I know," Nick threw in. "Was in Prague with a school outing."
Marcus' eyes lit up. "Great." He turned to Andrea again, "Now how much money did he promise you?"
"He won't say. Wanted me to have my own account, probably enough to buy a house."
"A house? Sebastian said your parents have a grocery shop?"
"Si."
"Hm." Marcus played with the napkin. "What makes you think that I'll pay you now?"
Andrea laughed. "One call and the altar is at a place you'll never find it."
Marcus grinned. "Good." He leaned forward. "You're a clever guy, aren't you. Don't understand why you preferred that Brit to Sebastian."
"Well, George is very generous and he was my own."
"Your own?" Of course, he thought. Apparently Andrea wasn't the only one for Sebastian and Italian boys could be very possessive.
Nicholas followed all this with discomfort. "What do we do now, Marcus?" he asked. "Will you tell Sebastian and Daniel?"
Marcus nodded. "Come here tomorrow same time, Andrea. You won't regret it." He hesitated, "But what will you do now with George: Will you simply disappear to Rome again?"
Andrea shrugged. "Probably." He smiled at Nick. "If you ever come to Rome, visit me. The shop is near the Spanish Staircase."
Nick didn't know if he should smile or frown but Andrea's laughing eyes won so he grinned.
"How's Prague, darling?" Marcus whispered into Nicholas' ear.
"Don't talk now," Nick whispered back. He wrapped his arms around Marcus' neck who had sat upright and had leaned his back on the cushions, holding Nick who had straddled him, feeling Marcus' penis full length inside him. He leaned to Marcus and rocked himself slowly back and forth.
Marcus lips slid along the skin of his neck, under his ear, teasing his earlobe and Nick shivered. "Tell me," Marcus whispered again.
"Fascinating" Nick's voice was dreamy. He ran his fingers through Marcus' hair, touching the skin of his shoulders like with butterfly wings. "I would like to go there again - with you."
"Me too, but it's difficult. You have got driving school and what about the academy?
Nick rocked softly, causing himself to sigh in unison with Marcus. "Don't move," he said then, "hold on, I want to hold on until eternity." He stared into Marcus' black eyes right in front of his face. A bright light point gleamed in them.
In Marcus the thought of George rose, the few nights they had spent together; he saw again the flickering, nervous light in his bright gray eyes, tasted Gin and smoke from his lips, felt his tongue at his cock, rough like a cat's. How could he forget Nicholas? The trustful, blue violet eyes, the silky skin, the butt cheeks, now spread, the long slender legs, rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
"I'm happy" he told him. "I'm happy to be with you, happy you forgave me."
Nick shook his head, never leaving his eyes. His movements getting a bit faster, he moaned silently and closed his eyes. Marcus longed to feel again what Nick felt right now. He kissed him. "I love you, baby. More than anything."
How easy it came now over his lips he thought briefly. Not a long time ago it had been impossible for him to say it. But now everything was different. The meeting with George had made it clear and all to distinct.
"Do you know that Andrea wanted love for giving the place of the altar?" Nick grinned.
"Really? One week and the altar is yours?" Marcus snorted.
"Yeah." They smiled at each other. "I love you too." Nicholas said. He was aware that something had happened in Marcus. He was quiet and withdrawn, sensitive and most tender. Surely Nick was used to a tender lovemaking but this one was different though he couldn't quite tell how different. Perhaps it had something to do with meeting George again.
He lifted himself and sank down Marcus' penis again while Marcus hand stroked his arse cheeks, the dripping cock, the legs, pulled him very close and held him tight until there was nothing more except heat, pleasure and fulfillment.
Sebastian took the receiver from Leandro's hand. "Marcus? What happened?"
"Why didn't you call again, dear?" he heard the deep voice of his friend. "Was this THE Leandro?"
"Yeah." Sebastian examined Leandro's face, the brown wavy hair with golden highlights, the eyes, deep like a bog with golden glimmer. He didn't smile. There was an expression in his eyes that made Sebastian embarrassed. He turned. "How are you?" he asked into the receiver but he sensed Leandro's looks in his back. He hardly heard Marcus' answer, but instead felt the heat growing.
"What did you say? George?" He turned again to Leandro who still stood there with empty eyes and hung shoulders.
"Holy shit, what did he want?" He smiled at the young man standing close to him but still Leandro didn't give back the smile. Why on earth was he always so damn taciturn? But Sebastian didn't want it otherwise seriously. If Leandro had spoken, he wouldn't have resisted.
"I see, he said slowly. "You two take care of yourselves."
Slowly he was getting nervous under Leandro's stares. "Listen Marcus. We almost decoded the strange inscription upon the goblet. It looks as if it could be a "forerunner" of the Etruscan language and the C-14 method said that the potsherds from Rome came from the same period. Can you imagine what this means?" He paused and listened to Marcus' astonished exclamation.
Leandro had turned and began to tidy away the laboratory. Somehow Marcus' voice was far away but then Sebastian's eyes grew larger and larger until his brows vanished almost under the sandy hair.
"Gosh, that's amazing!" he almost yelled. "Did he call Danny already? We must get it!" His excitement subsided. Leandro was staring at him again.
Leandro watched how Sebastian put back the receiver and stood there forlorn and lost in his thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Bad news?" His voice was low.
"Huh? No, not bad news. Quite the contrary." Suddenly Sebastian started to grin. "Looks as if we know the whereabouts of Danny's altar."
In Leandro's dark golden eyes sparkled lack of understanding.
"I told you about it, Leandro. It's in Prague in a church."
"Well an altar belongs to a church, doesn't it."
"Or to a little chapel in an old castle." Sebastian stepped to the young man and stopped his hands from working. He looked deep into his eyes but said nothing.
"You have to go, right?" Leandro said.
Sebastian nodded.
Leandro pulled away his hands and folded them behind his back. Sebastian frowned. "Leandro, I can't stay here. I ... I have to go home. My colleagues are waiting for the results."
"Don't lie to me. You want to go back to your boyfriend." He took a deep breath and his cheeks reddened. "You told me that he didn't want to come with you. I would never have done this - leave you alone."
"But he has all reasons to be in a huff. Or at least to think about our relationship. I needed this too."
"And what did you figure out?"
"That I miss him terribly," Sebastian said very low.
Leandro dropped his head. The next second he went quickly out of the room, never looking back.
Sebastian closed his eyes and felt sorry. He wasn't sure what Leandro expected him to do. He couldn't replace Kay.
Sighing, he took the receiver again and dialed his cousin's number.