Silver Coin, Part Fourteen

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13

Link to Part One

~

Adam was standing outside the house, sipping coffee, when David rode into the yard. Adam grinned at the sight of him. Joe had confessed, earlier that morning, how the two of them had spent the night in Roy’s jail cell.

His horse was all packed up, Adam noted. Good, that meant he was ready to go. He’d be accompanying the Cartwright brothers as they set out to restock and repair the line shacks.

“Long night?” Adam asked as David dismounted and tied his horse to the post.

He let out a short laugh in response as he walked over to the porch. “You’ve heard the story, I take it?”

“Some of it,” Adam answered. “Joe got into a fight over a girl, you felt obliged to take his part and Roy hauled the pair of you off. That’s a lovely black-eye you’ve got there, by the way.”

“Isn’t it?” David agreed. “Well, you’re right. That’s how it happened.”

Adam set down his coffee cup, leaned up against a post and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you two were up to in Virginia City?”

As he expected, David shook his head. “I can’t—I’m sworn to secrecy.”

Adam sighed. “Remember that you and Joe promised to let me know if you two end up in over your heads.”

David smiled at that as he took a seat on the porch steps, but his eyes were serious as he answered. “I’ll remember.”

Adam nodded, satisfied, and took a seat beside him. “Hoss is inside, moaning over the fact that he’ll have to spend a week away from Hop Sing—and Hop Sing’s cooking.”

“Taking it hard, is he?” David asked with another smile. “But it’s not really a week—it’s only just five days.”

“Try telling him that,” Adam suggested.

“I’d rather use my time more profitably,” David said. “Look what I found for you.”

He pulled a small booklet out of his jacket and handed it over. Adam took it and peered at the cover. Then his face broke into a smile.

“The libretto of Handel’s Julius Caesar,” he said. “I’ve been curious about this.”

“It takes place when Caesar arrives in Egypt and meets Cleopatra,” David explained. “But it has only a vague connection with actual events.”

“Well, no one goes to the opera for history lessons,” Adam said. “Pity we’ll never hear this performed.”

David frowned at that. “There’s no reason it can’t be performed.”

“Who would you get to play Caesar?” Adam asked. “This isn’t the eighteenth century, remember. There are no more castrati.”

“What’s a castrati?” Hoss asked as he stepped out the front door. He was chewing on a big hunk of corn bread as he spoke.

David grinned as he glanced over his shoulder at him. “The plural of castrato.”

Hoss rolled his eyes. “Well, what’s a castrato then?”

Adam exchanged glances with David. They were both determined to keep their faces straight.

“A castrato was a man who retained the high range of his voice into adulthood,” Adam explained. “Courtesy of an, ah, operation he had to undergo before puberty.”

Hoss furrowed his brow at that. At length his eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you—are you trying to say that a castrato is a gelding?”

“Precisely,” David answered.

“But—but—they’d have to do that when the fellow was just a kid!” Hoss sputtered, outraged.

“Oh, it was a barbaric practice,” David agreed. “Completely unethical—that’s one of the reasons they fell out of favor. So now we make do with counter tenors.”

Adam grinned. “Supposedly it’s not the same—I’ve heard it said that no counter tenor can match a castrato.”

“That’s true,” David said. “I know that for a fact—I’ve heard Velluti sing.”

“Velluti? When?” Adam demanded, raising his eyebrows at his lover. There were times when he envied David’s upbringing in the theatre—this was certainly one of them.

“Who’s that?” Hoss asked, looking from one to the other.

“He was the last of the great castrati,” Adam explained. “He was still alive until recently, I think.”

David nodded. “He died in 1861. My mother knew him. She spent time in England before I was born and she brought me there when I was a child. He had already retired at that point, of course—but his voice was still glorious. I’ve never heard a counter tenor whose voice was as full-bodied.”

Hoss shook his head. “Heck of a price to pay,” he muttered.

“True,” David owned. “But thinking back to his voice—well, it almost seems worthwhile.”

“Perhaps, but not every castrato was a Velluti,” Adam pointed out. “I’d put up with a counter-tenor playing Caesar.”

David grinned. “So would I. But you’re right; no one will stage the production. Handel’s sadly out of fashion.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked as he stepped out onto the porch. Like Hoss, he was holding a chunk of corn bread. It was just a lot smaller.

Hoss rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you three guess what they’re jawing about, Joe.”

Adam grinned as Joe narrowed his eyes first at David and then at him. He even stroked his chin as he considered the question.

“I’ll guess opera, Shakespeare or Melville,” Joe said at last.

“First try,” Hoss beamed. “But you won’t believe what used to go on to make sure that boys kept their high voices.”

Joe blanched. “Don’t feel obliged to tell me, big brother. Now come on, you three. I hate to be the responsible one, but there are line shacks that need our attention.”

Adam clasped his hand on David’s shoulder. “I think that’s our call to get ready to leave.”

“Yeah, the sooner we leave, older brother, the sooner we get back to Hop Sing’s home cooked meals,” Hoss pointed out.

“You could use a little less of Hop Sing’s cooking,” Joe commented, poking Hoss’s stomach.

“Why you—”

Adam and David laughed as Joe took off at a run before Hoss could finish that sentence. They watched him leap off the porch in one fluid movement, just like a cougar. Hoss took off after him, but he had little hope of catching up.

David shook his head. “You know, I feel that I’ve missed out by being an only child.”

Adam gave him a wry smile. “Let’s see how you feel after a week in close quarters with those two.”

LINK TO PART FIFTEEN