Snapshot Fiction: Celebration at Piazza del Campo

The sounds of the crowd in Piazza del Campo could be heard long before they emerged from the shaded street into the grand square. Bodies bustled around them as they emerged into the sunlight and Vinca stared in awe at the crowds. Musicians, jugglers and a variety of vendors selling everything from food to ribbons milled among the people who turned out for this impromptu festival. She had heard that during Carnivale or the horse races that took place through the streets and square at other times of the year that the crowds and noise were overwhelming. She had seen festivals and celebrations in Piombino but nothing as spectacular as this.

Raucous voices competed with music and the cries of sellers hawking their goods. Papá skillfully led her and Fina away from where the street poured more traffic into the square and into an open space near a great fountain. Vinca gawked openly at the fountain, marveling at the bas-reliefs surrounding it and the crystal blue water within. The white marble shone in the light and she carefully studied each form carved lovingly into it. She clearly recognized the Madonna but some of the other figures puzzled her.

“How lovely!” Fina gasped, reaching out to touch the pale stone carvings. Pietro slowly walked up the stairs surrounding the fountain studying it carefully. Papá smiled and let them explore for a few moments before motioning Vinca over to him.

“You recognize the Madonna?” She nodded. He motioned with his hand then, taking in some of the other forms. “Those are virtues, some Christian and some from the Greek. And do you see those two figures? The nudes?” She nodded, her cheeks blushing slightly at the two nude women displayed so boldly. Each held two babes and she wondered at the scene they depicted. “They are Rhea Silvia and Acca Larentia, the mothers of Romulus and Remus.”

“The founders of Rome!” Vinca studied the relief with more interest now. “How do you know this, Papá?”

He shrugged. “An old man was telling tales one day while I was listening. You see those on the left? The creation of Adam. And on the right. Adam and Eve’s banishment from Paradise.”

"Papá, this is magnificent! We had nothing this spectacular in Piombino!” Fina skipped up the steps to where Pietro stood behind the fountain using the extra height to look out over the Piazza.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Vinca started at the voice suddenly at her side and turned to see the smiling face of Marin, the lute player, from the celebration at the Vettori palazzo. She smiled easily and nodded.

“It is exquisite. I have never seen its like.”

“Sometimes I come and spend my whole day here playing my music for the Madonna. I like to think she appreciates the effort.” He strummed the strings of the lute, the sounds gentle and drifting through the crowd. Several people turned to watch him expectantly.

Vinca reached out and touched the instrument. “Will you play now?”

He frowned, though his eyes twinkled belying the falsehood of the expression. “I am unsure. I have already played soooo much today.”

“Please?” She could sense the game he played. He wanted to play a song for her; she could tell by the way his fingers drifted over the strings. “Just one would brighten the day.”

“Oh yes! Please play!” Fina joined them, pulling Pietro over as well. He eyed the musician warily but seemed amused by the exchange.

“Oh sweet ladies, the sound of your voices is such beautiful music of its own, I would not wish to drown it out with the tones of my poor instrument!”

“Will you please play?” Vinca smiled, enjoying the way he smiled at her when he spoke. She felt no discomfort meeting his eyes and could gaze into their depths all day. “Play for me,” she said quietly. “And my sister. Play for us.” She corrected, realizing how her brother now watched her.

Marin ran his fingers casually across the strings, bringing forth golden tones with so little effort. “For you. I will play and sing.”

The song began simple enough and like the ones she used to hear from the simple musicians in Piombino it told a tale of woe and lost love. If she had to admit to it later, Vinca would have in all honesty had to say she didn’t pay much attention to the song itself. She found herself endlessly fascinated by the expressions of Marin’s face. She carefully studied the way it moved as he sang. Each emotion he portrayed in the song flowed across it fluidly and each one was distinct and recognizable. His face was so mobile it seemed ever in motion, ever changing, and while it retained his look, it was never precisely the same twice.

He noticed her intense scrutiny and grinned, singing directly to her for a moment before turning back to the crowd that had begun to gather around them. Soon a pipe player joined in the melody, the bell-clear tones weaving around his lute. They moved easily into a lively country song that drew in a tambourine player. Soon the song brought out dancers and with a laugh Fina grabbed Pietro and drew him into the circle of dancers swirling about.

Vinca laughed and clapped with the music, watching her brother and sister. Soon a strong hand took hers and tugged her into the dance. She laughed in surprise when Marin led her to dance, his lute now hanging across his back. She looked around and noticed the number of musicians in this part of the square had increased when the dancing began.

“You stopped playing,” she said, barely audible over the music.

He shrugged and turned her before placing his arm around her waist and moving into the next step of the dance. “There are enough players now my music is not needed.” He tightened his arm around her and pulled her against him briefly. “And at the moment I prefer to be right where I am.”

She felt her face redden at his forward behavior and moved away, careful to keep a respectful distance between them. He caught the movement and squeezed her hand as he spun her away from him then pulled her back to face him. “Shy are we? Are you modest for me or those surrounding us?”

She glanced around nervously afraid Pietro or Papá might have seen how close she had been to Marin. “It isn’t proper,” she whispered.

He laughed again and pulled her to him, brushing ever so lightly against her before stepping away again. She felt her face redden more. “It is only a dance,” he grinned. He leaned in close and whispered to her, “Or shall I come to you and dance for you in darkness.”

She pulled away from him and swallowed her embarrassment. She could not form words to chide him for his scandalous behavior and she would not admit that she found the offer as flattering as it was shocking. Before her thoughts could wander down other dangerous paths about him Pietro took her hand and turned a slashing glance on the musician. “Father says we should go now. The rowdy crowds are coming out.”

Marin smiled broadly at Pietro and bowed ever-so-elegantly to Vinca. “I thank you for the dance, fair lady. I will hold it to me in my dreams this evening.”

“You are quite welcome,” she managed to choke out. She was still watching Marin when Pietro took her hand and tugged her toward their father. Her brother wasn’t watching when the lute player winked at her and whispered only loud enough for her to hear, “I will come for you.”

She turned away still blushing and followed ever closer to her brother unsure if Marin was serious or simply flirting and just as undecided which she wanted.