Stravaganza: City Of Stars Part 30

'I can't ever go back now, can I?' asked Falco.

'Not without a talisman from Talia,' said Georgia.

He looked so woebegone that she drew the black feather from her pocket and gave it to him.

'Here,' she said. 'I'm a Stravagante and I give you this talisman. I'm sure it will take you back one day.'

Several carriages were drawn up in the Ram while their occupants said their goodbyes. Rodolfo was going to travel back to Bellezza with Silvia, giving his place in Arianna's carriage up to Luciano. But Dethridge was not to be alone in his. Francesca was coming back to Bellezza with him, to collect her belongings from old Albani's house. Gaetano had come down to the stables to bid her farewell.

And he was charged with messages for his father about the Bellezzans' hasty departure. He would do what he could to soften Niccol's suspicion and rage towards the Stravaganti but it was a dark cloud on all their horizons.

Paolo and Teresa were saying goodbye to their guests. Luciano and Cesare and Gaetano clasped arms, the last left there of the five who had made their pact on the way to Belle Vigne. They could still hear Falco's pa.s.sing bell tolling; Luciano wondered if he would ever be able to get the sound out of his ears.

'Say goodbye to my subst.i.tute jockey for me when he next comes back,' said the young d.u.c.h.essa to Cesare. 'But I trust I'll see you riding for the Ram next year.'

'Indeed, your Grace,' said Cesare, who had never got over his awe of this beautiful lady.

'And be sure to tell him to look after my brother,' added Gaetano in a whisper. Then, out loud, to the Bellezzan party, 'And look after Francesca for me in your city of masks. I shall be counting the hours until she joins me in Giglia.'

'There,' said Arianna. 'You see, you can be romantic when you try. Of course I shall look after her.'

The three Stravaganti who were leaving embraced Paolo. Each took strength from the others and gave it back in equal measure. And then the carriages rolled out towards the Gate of the Sun. And on their way they overtook a party of brightly clad and be-ribboned people carrying musical instruments.

'Stop!' Arianna cried to her coachman. 'Won't you ride with us?' she asked Raffaella. 'There is room on top and in the fourth carriage if you don't mind travelling with my trunks.'

'Thank you, your Grace,' said Aurelio, answering for them both, 'but for us the walking is part of a long journey. I'm sure we shall meet again, in the City of Flowers if not in your own dukedom.'

'I hope so,' said Arianna. 'I should like to hear the music of the Manoush again.'

Georgia's punishment was to be banned from her riding lessons for a term. It was hard but she felt she could cope. She had ridden so much that summer and she was unlikely to forget all she had learned in Remora. And, in a way, any horse would have been such a come-down after Merla, that she didn't mind deferring the time when she would have to make that comparison.

And there were compensations. She was still to go to France and Russell would be leaving for Greece in the morning as planned. Ralph and Maura had at last taken her problems with Russell seriously.

'I see now why you wanted the lock on your door,' said Maura sadly as Ralph fixed a new one on for Georgia. 'And I'm sorry I didn't listen when you tried to tell me about Russell before.'

'I'm so gutted that any son of mine should behave like that,' said Ralph.

'He's always resented me,' said Georgia. 'I think he was just taking it out on me because he was so jealous when you married Mum.'

'Well, it's going to stop now,' said Ralph. 'Maura and I think he needs counselling.'

'Has he agreed to that?' asked Georgia.

Ralph and Maura exchanged looks.

'Not exactly,' said Ralph. 'But he's only allowed on this holiday on condition that he sees someone when he gets back.'

It was such a relief to be able to talk about it but Georgia knew that Russell had already lost his power over her. She recalled Paolo's words. 'He will not always be there. Remember that nothing lasts for ever, the bad things as well as the good.'

She didn't speak to Russell again before he left. She had decided not to stravagate that night. Perhaps I am being cowardly, she thought, but I don't want to face the Duke until I've caught up on lost sleep.

And by the next night, it was too late. Russell had gone and so had the Etruscan horse. And this time she thought it was probably for good.

One of the first to pay his respects at the Papal palace, after the family, was Enrico the spy. He was wearing a black armband.

He was told that the Duke was sleeping but the Pope would see him. Enrico smoothed his hair and went in to see the prelate.

'Holiness,' he said, prostrating himself in front of Ferdinando di Chimici and kissing his ring.

'Ah,' said the Pope, motioning him to rise. 'You have heard of our great sorrow?'

'Indeed, indeed,' said Enrico. 'Terrible, terrible.' And he meant it.

'It is a small loss to set beside the death of our youngest prince,' said the Pope, 'but I was disappointed that no champion of our family won the Stellata. It was very embarra.s.sing for my brother and myself.'

'I regret that, Holiness,' said Enrico. 'But what can one man do against the force of destiny? You must agree that the G.o.ddess was against us.'

'I shall agree no such impious thing, you insolent man!' said the Pope, flushed. 'As leader of the church, I do not believe in any G.o.ddess!'

'A figure of speech, merely, Holiness,' Enrico recovered himself smoothly, making the Hand of Fortune and disguising it as a scratch and a cough. The Pope flinched.

'What I meant to say,' continued the spy, 'is that some things are just not meant to be like the survival of the young prince. I did everything I could to fix the race, but Remorans are superst.i.tious and once they saw the winged beauty, all the jockeys went to pieces except that one from the Ram.'

'I know who won,' said the Pope peevishly. 'But I agree the odds were stacked against us from the moment that horse was born in Remora. But the question arises of what to do with you now that the race is over. I suggest that you accompany my brother the Duke back to Giglia, as soon as he is fit enough to travel with the body of his son. I'm sure he'll find something for you to do.'

Falco had an appointment for his operation and he couldn't wait to tell Georgia. He phoned but found her distraught.

'What do you mean, gone?' he asked.

'Russell's gone to Greece till the end of the holidays and I think he's taken the talisman with him or broken it beyond repair. He said he'd get me and this is how he's done it.'

'I'm really sorry,' said Falco. 'Do you think you could use my feather? I'll give it to you if you want.'

There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

'No, I don't think so,' said Georgia at last. 'It wasn't brought for me. It probably wouldn't work.'

Duke Niccol slept for twelve hours and awoke with renewed energy. He sent for his body-servant to shave him and trim his newly white hair and then ate a solid breakfast, to the relief of his remaining children. The Duke wanted to put grief behind him and get back to his normal machinations. Of the day before, his recollections were vague. Deep in his mind somewhere he knew that the story of Falco's death was not quite as he gave it out, but he buried that thought as deep as he would his child.

But he could not entirely forget what had happened afterwards. There was something uncanny about Falco's leaving the world and it was connected with the Stravaganti, even though Niccol could no longer remember what he had seen in Rodolfo's mirrors. He was determined to redouble his efforts against them and to find out exactly what it was that they could do.

To this end, he sent for all his remaining sons, to have a family council. Gaetano was first to arrive and the news he brought his father was unwelcome.

'Gone? The Bellezzans have gone?' said Niccol uncomprehendingly. 'Without even the pretence of politeness or waiting for my son's funeral?'

'The d.u.c.h.essa was most insistent that I should make her deepest apologies, Father,' said Gaetano. 'And we didn't want to wake you when you were sleeping properly for the first time in days. But yesterday was always the appointed time for her departure and she was anxious at having left the affairs of her city for so long. It has been without her and the Regent for two weeks and you know how vulnerable a dukedom can be when its ruler is away.'

'I myself have been away from Giglia for more than twice that long,' said the Duke contemptuously.

'But no one would dare move against you, Father,' said Gaetano. 'The d.u.c.h.essa has borne her t.i.tle for only a year; she is bound to feel at risk.'

'It is time we were all back in our own cities,' said Niccol. 'We have important matters to plan a funeral, weddings and all out war on the Stravaganti.'

'Why?' said Gaetano bravely. 'Because we have lost Falco? That was hardly their fault.'

Niccol looked at him uncomprehendingly.

'Please, Father,' he said gently. 'Falco is at rest now. Can't we forget about vendettas and mourn him in peace?'

'You don't understand,' said Niccol. 'The Stravaganti are behind it, at least Rodolfo is. I saw something ... something unnatural. There is witchcraft at work here and I intend to get to the bottom of it.'

Mr Goldsmith was taking a little holiday. He had put the CLOSED sign up in his shop and gone to visit Georgia at her house. Maura was there too and was surprised to see him at the door. But she made tea for them all and sat to drink it with them.

'I'm going away for a few weeks,' he said. 'I just wanted to drop by and tell you. My nephew rang last night and offered to have me for a holiday with him and his family in the Norfolk Broads.'

Georgia was glad. Mr Goldsmith had never talked about his family before and she had thought he might be rather lonely.

'I shouldn't want you, or Nicholas, to come to the shop and find me closed,' he continued. 'I don't often leave it in the summer, but this was too good an opportunity to give up.'

'Does your nephew live in Norfolk?' asked Maura.

'No, he lives in Cambridge,' said Mr Goldsmith. 'That's where my family was from. My wife too.'

'I didn't know you were married,' said Georgia.

'I lost her years ago,' said Mr Goldsmith. 'Before we had children. But I have three great-nephews and I shall enjoy sailing with them.'

After he had gone, Maura apologised to Georgia.

'I was wrong about Mr Goldsmith,' she said. 'He seems a nice old chap. It was Russell who was warped.'

Georgia gave her a hug.

'It doesn't matter now,' she said.

Enrico was up at the palace in Santa Fina collecting his money, when he saw the Duke. Niccol di Chimici was wandering through the rooms of the great house as if searching for something.

'My Lord,' said Enrico, hesitantly.

The Duke wheeled, startled, then relaxed.

'Ah, the spy,' he said. 'There is nothing to spy on here only an empty palace and an old man.'

'Is there anything I can do for you, your Grace?' Enrico asked. 'I was sorry to hear about the prince.'

Duke Niccol thought for a few moments.

'Tell me,' he said. 'If you were burying your favourite child, what would you put in his coffin with him?'

Enrico had no children and no prospect of any now that his Giuliana had disappeared. But he had a good imagination.

'Some childhood remembrance, my Lord? A favourite plaything? Some ornament or picture?'

'A picture? Yes, you are right.'

The Duke took from inside his s.h.i.+rt a miniature. 'I have carried this with me since my wife, Benedetta, died. She should go and watch over our child in his grave. All that is finished for me now.'

Georgia was at the Mulhollands', saying goodbye before she went to France.

'Do you think you'll ever go back to Remora?' Falco asked.

'I hope so,' said Georgia, with a deep sigh. 'It's such a fantastic place and I'll miss Cesare and his family.'

'Yet I think that the person you will miss most is not to be found in that city,' said Falco quietly.

Georgia said nothing; it seemed as if she had been less good at disguising her feelings in Talia than she was in her own world.

'Were you surprised that the d.u.c.h.essa refused my brother?' he persisted.

'Not really,' said Georgia. 'He was a di Chimici, after all, even if a very nice one.'

'What about me?' asked Falco. 'Am I a nice one?'

'You aren't a di Chimici at all any more, remember?' said Georgia. 'You're a Duke, now, and maybe one day a Mulholland.'

'But you do think I'm nice?'

'Don't be daft!' said Georgia. What was the matter with everyone all of a sudden? It seemed as if, ever since she had won the Stellata, she was irresistible in both worlds. 'Of course I do,' she added, seeing that Falco looked downcast.

'I can't explain exactly what I mean,' she said, suddenly remembering. 'But you'll always be special to me because you're a link with my life in another world that no one else knows about.'

Then she leaned forward to give him a hug and brush his cheek with a kiss.

Acknowledgements With thanks to my Italian consultants, Edgardo Zaghini from the Young Book Trust and Carla Poesio of Florence. Thank you also to Graziella Rossi for her help and kindness in the Seventeenth of the Ram, Roberto Filiani for his regular Palio e-mails, Reuben Wright for his company in the Campo in July, Frances Hardinge and Saint Galgano for an unexpected walk in the woods and the black dragonfly and to Eileen Walker for extra resources on the August race. Alan Dundes's and Alessandro Fala.s.si's La Terra in Piazza was an invaluable reference book. And thanks to Professore Luigi Bernabei of Santa Chiara and Giuliana and Giorgio Citterio of Podere Vignali for providing the perfect settings in which to create sixteenth-century Remora.

Epilogue:The Thirteenth Rider Remora, September 1578 g The Campo delle Stelle was being turned into a racetrack for the second time that summer. It happened occasionally that there was an extra race a Stellata Straordinaria to commemorate some important public occasion. The last one had been twenty years ago, when Ferdinando di Chimici became Pope and was given the revived t.i.tle of Prince of Remora.

Now the Pope's brother Niccol had decided that there should be a Straordinaria to celebrate the short life of the youngest di Chimici prince. There was much bustle in the city, to prepare for another race so soon after the last one. A new track had to be laid, officials appointed, parade clothes cleaned and more flag manoeuvres practised. The drums of the last race celebrations had scarcely ceased before they started again and Remora once again lived its life against the background of their perpetual beat.

It was even more important that the Lady, or at least the Twins, should win this race the Stellata di Falco and a larger than usual prize was to be awarded to the winning jockey.

Cesare couldn't believe his luck he was going to get another chance to ride Arcangelo in the race without having to wait a year. And this time he had no intention of getting kidnapped. Life had been a bit flat in the month since the Bellezzans had left and the di Chimici returned to Giglia. He had felt sad about the death of Falco because, although Cesare knew the boy was alive in another world, it was one he didn't expect ever to visit, so he was unlikely to see him again. And Cesare had become fond of the young prince. As for Georgia: she had not been back to see them since the day after the race.

Cesare wondered if she would be there for the Straordinaria; she must have come back from her holiday by now.

London, September 2004 g Georgia had in fact been back for a year. A lot had happened in that time, but there had been no more trips to Talia because the talisman had gone. When Russell had returned from Greece, he had been asked about it, but this time he didn't budge. He denied that he had ever taken the winged horse.

He had gone to his counselling sessions, much to Georgia's surprise, and her life at home had greatly improved, even though it wasn't perfect. Ralph and Maura, who went with Russell to some of the family therapy sessions, were clearly shocked by the extent of his problems.