Gaudenzia, Pride of the Palio

by Marguerite Henry

At half past two in the afternoon the embers of his hope flickered again as the Captain strode into Giorgio's room.

"Vittorino!" the name slow-spoken as in the dream, and the syllables far apart, like drops of rain when the storm begins.

Now it comes. Now he will say: "You, Vittorino, must give help to Gaudenzia. The others you will block. With the nerbo you will fight them fiercely, hinder them." The boy holds his breath. He takes a step closer. He does not want even the guards to overhear. He cants his head like a dog, begging, awaiting directions ... listening ... eyes beseeching.

The Captain clips out his orders, wanting the guards to hear: "Break first from the rope! The hot bludgeons of the nerbo we wish you both to escape."

There is still the hope; it is not yet dead.

"And during the last meters of the race"—the voice is grim—"you will nerbo every opponent who threatens our victory. Every opponent who threatens...."

A wild sickness churns in the boy. He wants to escape and run and run and run, but where to go? Fate has trapped him. Fate, the Queen of the Palio.

Minutes and seconds wear themselves out. Numbly he puts on the long stockings, the high buskins, the deep blue doublet with the emblem of the white shell, the burnished sleeves of mail, the heavy helmet of mail with the chinstrap too tight. He thinks wistfully of the rabbit's fur he had once wrapped around Gaudenzia's chinstrap. How long ago that seems!

He is ready. He goes to the church of Nicchio with Rosella. He hears the priest invoke God's protection for horse and rider, hears the people shout: "Go, Rosella! Come back victorious!"

Then, mounted on his parade horse, he receives the general blessing of the Archbishop, his mind dazedly repeating the Captain's orders. He makes his way to Il Campo, awaits his turn to enter. The bell in the tower begins its tolling. His company moves forward. He enters the square, sees again the many-headed multitude in the shallow basin of the Piazza. He thinks: "So solid are they packed one could walk across their heads without having to leap."