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But he felt guilty that he was here instead of Luciano. And his heart was heavy with his imaginings about what his family would be suffering in Remora, Giglia and Bellezza, as soon as they all knew. He knew that Georgia would be with Luciano in Remora now and he felt suddenly homesick for Talia.
He was giving Luciano up as well as his family and he had grown attached to the Stravagante as an extra brother. But now, if he were to carry out his full plan, he would not see Luciano again. The choice for now had been removed from him though. Georgia had the talisman and she was asleep in another house. As well as awake in Remora, doubtless being quizzed about Falco right now.
He sighed and closed his eyes. At the foot of his bed a mirror reflected black curls on the pillow not for the first time.
'You did what?' said Luciano.
He had wanted to know everything about Falco in London and Georgia, although she hadn't intended to tell him about that part of her plan yet, found his questions too pressing to parry. At least they were in a public place. They were drinking lemon sherbet bought from a stall in the Campo delle Stelle, sitting on the stone seat that surrounded the slender column in the centre.
Luciano seemed so fierce Georgia's heart misgave her. She wanted him to admire her even if there was no chance of anything deeper and now it looked as if she might have blown it.
'I can't believe it,' he said now. 'My parents! But they've never talked about fostering before.'
'Well it wasn't exactly planned,' said Georgia. 'They just offered because Social Services couldn't find any other place for him.'
'Planned is exactly what it seems to have been,' said Luciano bitterly. 'You never told me my parents were going to be involved.'
'Do you mind?' asked Georgia nervously.
'No,' said Luciano, after a pause. 'Not exactly. It's just a shock. What made you do it?'
'It was talking to your mum,' said Georgia. 'She still misses you so much. Falco needed a home and it seemed to me that she needed a boy to take care of.'
'Proper little agony aunt, aren't you?' said Luciano, but he managed a weak smile. 'I know it's selfish of me but I don't want to be replaced, even by Falco.'
Georgia squeezed his hand. 'You won't be,' she said. 'You're irreplaceable.'
They went back to the stall to return their wooden cups nothing in Talia was disposable.
'It seems strange to think that in a week's time this will be a racetrack, doesn't it?' said Georgia, deliberately changing the subject. 'With Cesare and the others galloping round it.'
'And all the Rams out in force supporting him and Arcangelo,' said Luciano. 'The whole family will be here.'
'Will you watch it?' asked Georgia.
'Yes,' said Luciano a bit uncomfortably. 'I think Doctor Dethridge and I will have a place with Rodolfo and the d.u.c.h.essa in the Pope's stand.'
'The Royal Box,' said Georgia. 'How come you get to hobn.o.b with the aristocracy while I'm just a humble stable-boy?'
'Chance,' said Luciano. 'Or destiny. You'll just have to watch with all the other Remorans in the Campo. It will probably be more fun.'
'Look out!' said Georgia suddenly. 'Fishes!'
Luciano's hand flew to the dagger in his belt. The three young men approaching did indeed wear the blue and pink colours of the Twelfth of Fishes and they were not looking friendly. In the days before the race the enmities between Twelfths in the city became more p.r.o.nounced. And Luciano and Georgia were outnumbered. Then they saw the Fishes backing off.
They turned round and saw Cesare and Paolo coming towards them. The Fishes must have thought better of taking on four Rams, particularly since one of the new arrivals was so well built.
'Well met,' said Paolo. 'But I bring news more worrying than Fishes, particularly minnows like those three. A messenger has come for you. Duke Niccol wants to see you both up at the Papal palace. And he won't tolerate any delay.'
In the Papal palace Rinaldo di Chimici was having a very uncomfortable interview with his uncle. He had never told the Duke about capturing the young Bellezzan because the plan had gone so badly wrong. Rinaldo had redeemed himself by being able to send news to Giglia of a much bigger coup: the a.s.sa.s.sination of the d.u.c.h.essa. But now he was being hard pressed by the Duke to tell him all he knew about Luciano.
'You had him in your hands and let him go?' Niccol asked incredulously. 'When you knew he was a Stravagante from the other world?'
'That was the suspicion, Uncle. But if he was and I saw him without a shadow he is that no longer. Something must have gone wrong with whatever that old magician Rodolfo was planning. I told you, when we had the boy arraigned in court, he clearly did have a shadow.'
'And what about the book?' asked Niccol. 'You said there was a book he valued that had something to do with his powers.'
Rinaldo s.h.i.+fted in his chair. 'I have it, Uncle, but we have been able to do nothing with it and make nothing of it. I suspect trickery of some kind.'
'So you let him go?' said Niccol.
'We couldn't keep him for ever,' said Rinaldo.
'You should have slit his throat while you had him,' said Niccol. 'If you had, my boy would not be lying unconscious upstairs.'
A footman entered. 'The young men you sent for are here, your Grace.'
'You may leave us, Rinaldo,' said Niccol coldly.
Luciano started as he pa.s.sed his old adversary the amba.s.sador in the doorway. Georgia hadn't seen Rinaldo before and didn't know anything of his history with her friend. She saw only a rather weak and nervous young man who pa.s.sed them in a cloud of scent.
For the next twenty minutes, the Duke grilled them mercilessly about Falco. Why had they visited him so often? What had they talked about? What did they know of his son's state of mind?
And he wasn't satisfied with their answers. Necessarily, since Luciano and Georgia both had to lie, in order to respect Falco's wishes. But it was very hard to lie to the Duke. They felt lucky to escape unscathed, except for his threats.
'Do not attempt to leave Remora,' he said coldly. 'I shall have the gates of the city barred against you. And if my son does not recover, you may never leave here.'
When Luciano and Georgia had left, he put his head in his hands.
The rider from Remora had not spared himself. He changed horses many times on the journey and pulled up at the inn outside Volana in the middle of the night. The sleepy innkeeper was most unsure about disturbing the young prince but was persuaded that the matter was urgent. Minutes later Gaetano was sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes as he tried to make sense of the message the rider had brought.
A smart carriage drove through the Gate of the Sun in the early hours of Wednesday morning. It was curtained so that the two occupants could not be seen, but there was a great deal of luggage stacked on the top and an elegantly-liveried servant sat beside the driver. He was tall and thin, with red hair, unusual colouration in Talia and therefore highly regarded.
The carriage rattled across the empty cobbled streets until it reached the Twelfth of the Ram. It stopped outside a tall house in the Via di Montone and the red-headed servant jumped down. The curtains were drawn back and the carriage-window lowered so that he could talk to his employer.
He then rapped at the door-knocker and went into the house to check that everything was in order. Only when the lodgings had been thoroughly inspected and pa.s.sed as suitable did he hand down a pa.s.senger from the carriage. She was a handsome middle-aged woman, with a still slender figure, in a grey velvet travelling dress. She wore a veil and was followed by a maid carrying various small cases and bags, which the manservant courteously took from her. The three pa.s.sed into the house unremarked except by a couple of pigeons and a grey cat as sleek as the elegant stranger.
Things moved fast for Falco in the next week. The first thing that happened was an appointment with the doctor. Dr Kennedy was a bit surprised to see him come in with Vicky Mulholland, but she had agreed with Social Services to let this boy have an emergency appointment, so that his physical condition could be a.s.sessed. Maura had come too. The two women knew each other slightly.
The doctor spent a long time examining Falco, whom she addressed as Nicholas. He had to remember that was his name now. He couldn't answer her questions about what childhood illnesses he had had.
'Well,' she said, when she had finished, filling out a form Maura gave her. 'In some ways you're in pretty good shape. You are well nourished and your heart and lungs are sound. I'd like to see you weigh about half a stone more at your age but you are a bit on the short side and could be in for a growth spurt. The real problem of course is your leg. You say you can't remember anything about the accident except that it involved a horse. But it's a bad break, badly set.'
'Can you make it better?' asked Falco. It was what his whole journey had been for.
'Not me,' said Dr Kennedy, and smiled to see his downcast face. 'But I think that the orthopaedic surgeons could.' She turned to Maura. 'I shall ask for him to be seen at Barts as soon as possible. I think it highly likely that he'll need quite extensive surgery followed by physiotherapy.'
'And do you think if he has it he'll be able to walk properly?' asked Vicky, putting the question Falco did not dare to.
'I can't make any promises, Mrs Mulholland,' said the doctor. 'I'm not the specialist here. But we'll see what the surgeons say. I'll give Mr Turnbull's secretary a ring now and find out how quickly they can get him seen. It is an unusual case and I think that will push him up the waiting list.'
'Thank goodness for that,' said Maura. 'We know what the NHS can be like.' Then bit her lip, wis.h.i.+ng she could bite her tongue too as she saw the grimace pa.s.s over Vicky's face. Of course this intense and caring woman knew more about doctors and hospitals than Maura would ever wish to.
Falco was seen at Barts within a week. The clinic nurse looked a bit oddly at the crutches, which were the hospital's own property, but didn't say anything. She weighed and measured him, gave the crutches back and soon called him in to see Mr Turnbull. Again, Falco was accompanied by his foster-mother and his social worker. Maura was a team leader but she was handling his case personally. Falco was high profile now, his photo in all the tabloids under banner headlines like 'IS THIS YOUR SON?' and 'TRAGEDY OF ABANDONED BOY.' Social Services couldn't afford to get anything wrong about his treatment.
Georgia took Falco to visit Mr Goldsmith's shop. The Talian boy loved the jumble of things he saw there snuffboxes and clocks, soup tureens and pianola rolls. The old antique dealer looked curiously at Falco's crutches and then at Georgia. But one of the things she liked about him was the way he didn't ask questions about unimportant things.
'This is my friend Nicholas,' she said. 'And this is Mr Goldsmith,' thinking, he's my friend too. Plus Alice, that's three I've got in this world.
Mr Goldsmith was a bit like Doctor Dethridge, she decided. He and Falco got on extremely well and were soon poring over the innards of a long case clock together.
In Remora the di Chimici clan were gathering. Gaetano had made his apologies to the d.u.c.h.essa early on the morning after the messenger had arrived. She was a little piqued to be losing his company on the journey, which was to stop for two nights in the Prince's home city of Giglia, but softened when she saw his evident distress about his brother.
Gaetano had sent the messenger on to Bellezza and Francesca was expected to arrive within days. Other messengers had been dispatched to Giglia by the Duke and had brought the rest of Falco's family. His older brothers Fabrizio and Carlo and his sister Beatrice had all abandoned their pursuits and set out for Remora straightaway.
The boy's unconscious body had been taken from Santa Fina to the city's hospital, just across the square from the Papal palace and the cathedral, which were all in the Twelfth of the Twins. The Pope said Ma.s.s daily for him in the cathedral and the people of Remora remembered him in their prayers.
Falco was now officially suffering from the Morte Vivenda and there was very little hope that he would wake up. The poison bottle had been traced to the gardener at Santa Fina and he had been severely flogged. People were gathering outside the hospital, where they brought votive offerings to the G.o.ddess, on the remains of whose temple the hospital had been built.
The Duke spent almost all his time at his son's bedside, neither eating nor sleeping except when his daughter Beatrice made him take rest and refreshment. One day he sent his servants out to find the Manoush to see if the blind harpist would come and play under his son's window.
Aurelio came and played, the saddest and most plangent airs ever heard in Remora, and the people outside all wept. But Raffaella took up no collection.
For Luciano and Georgia it was a tense time. They had the threat of the Duke hanging over them and they were worried about Falco too. Georgia was able to rea.s.sure Luciano that he was doing well in the other world but neither of them had thought that his body would endure so long in Talia.
Gaetano arrived back in Remora three days after his brother had been found unconscious and went straight to the hospital to visit him. It was only after a harrowing few hours that he left for the Ram. He found Luciano and Georgia and Cesare in the stable yard. At first they said nothing, just embraced.
'I didn't think he would do it so soon,' whispered Gaetano. 'To be honest, although he said goodbye, I didn't really think he'd do it at all. Were you all with him? Was it easy?'
'Not me,' said Cesare. 'I'm not a Stravagante. But I'm really sorry.'
'We were there,' said Luciano. 'Georgia took care of everything at the other end.'
'He's in good hands,' she said.
'The best,' said Luciano. 'He is with my own parents.'
Gaetano started, then hugged Luciano. 'Then we are brothers,' he said.
Luciano took a deep breath. 'How is the d.u.c.h.essa?' he asked.
'Wonderful!' said Gaetano. 'She really is an amazing person. She will be here in a few days.'
And Georgia wondered whose heart was beating faster hers or Luciano's.
Chapter 19.
The Dirt Goes Down It was late evening when the state carriage of Bellezza rumbled through the Gate of the Sun. A sizeable crowd of Remorans, mainly from the Ram, waited to greet it, waving the standards of their Twelfth, the black and white banners of the city and a few Bellezzan flags adorned with masks. Gaetano stood at the gate, with his older brothers and his uncle, representing the di Chimici family. Duke Niccol could not be persuaded to leave the hospital, even for such an important visitor.
Heralds played a fanfare of welcome and in the background could be heard the faint throb of drums as other Twelfths kept up their perpetual practice for the parade before the race. Rodolfo alighted from the carriage and handed Arianna down so that she could accept the formal greeting of Pope Lenient VI.
The crowd sighed. She was as beautiful as her reports; though it was a pity they could not see her face properly, masked as it was in accordance with the custom of her city. But she was tall and graceful, with a riot of chestnut curls caught up only loosely on top of her head and she wore black and white satin in honour of the city colours of Remora a touch which its citizens appreciated.
The young d.u.c.h.essa curtsied to the Pope and kissed his ring, showing a proper respect for the church, of which the Remorans also approved. But the Pope drew her to her feet quickly and presented her to his three nephews. The crowd applauded the handsome young Giglian n.o.bles bending over the d.u.c.h.essa's hand in turn. But they couldn't help noticing that she spent the longest time talking to the youngest brother, who was nothing much to look at.
Luciano noticed that too as he stood among the supporters of the Ram. He hadn't seen Arianna for nearly a month and he didn't know when he would be able to be alone with her. She was being led off to the Papal palace in Twins territory, a place he was steering well clear of at the moment. And she was still talking to Gaetano. Luciano felt horrible. He really liked Gaetano but not as much as he liked Arianna.
The stooped black figure behind Arianna turned at that moment and looked straight at Luciano. Rodolfo the Stravagante had sensed not only one of his brotherhood but his favoured apprentice. The nod and smile he gave Luciano were fleeting but enough to lift his spirits. Rodolfo was here and everything was going to be all right.
'They look well, don't they?' said a low voice in his ear and he turned to see a familiar face, even though it was lightly covered by a veil.
'Silvia!' he gasped. 'I didn't know you were coming.'
'Nor do they,' she said, smiling. 'Do you think they'll be pleased?'
'Surely it's not safe?' whispered Luciano. 'There are di Chimici everywhere, as you see, and the Duke is in a dangerous mood.'
'I heard about his boy,' said Silvia. 'Strange isn't it how someone who can order the deaths of strangers along with a new pair of boots should be such a loving family man?'
'He is my friend,' said Luciano.
'Duke Niccol?' she asked.
'No, his youngest son, Falco,' said Luciano. 'I think Duke Niccol would like to put me in with his next boot order.'
It had been hard for Georgia to leave Remora that night and face a new day in London, knowing that Luciano was going to be reunited with the famous Arianna. It would have been difficult enough if the old Lucien had lived and found himself a girlfriend among people Georgia knew. But this new Luciano, with his velvet clothes and his aristocratic friends, was living in a world that Georgia could only ever visit briefly, in a time that had vanished centuries ago. And now that the d.u.c.h.essa had arrived, Georgia's special time alone with him was coming to an end.
The last week in Remora had been very scary so much so that at times she had thought of giving up her night journeys there. After all, she had done what she had intended to do. 'Nicholas Duke' was safe in her world, looked after by the Mulhollands, seeing doctors and planning his new future.
But in Remora Falco was dying. No one in the city doubted it. The Duke was beside himself with grief and spent every possible hour at his son's bedside in the hospital. Still Georgia had returned every night, caught between the private drama of the di Chimici family and the public excitement that was building up towards the race.
Her two closest friends in Remora were involved in both these events. Cesare could not conceal his enthusiasm about the Stellata; he talked to Georgia about it when they went bareback riding every day, telling her about the secret pacts between jockeys of the different Twelfths, and about the many rituals and customs surrounding the great race.
Luciano was openly worried about what might happen to him and Georgia. Niccol di Chimici had threatened both of them with serious consequences if Falco should die and that moment was getting nearer. The boy had not opened his eyes since he had been found with the empty poison bottle nearly a week ago. But the doctors of the city had been baffled. There had been none of the symptoms of a poisoning. And everyone was reluctant to think that someone so young should give up his own life. Suicide was as rare in Talia as murder was common.