City of Ships

by Mary Hoffman

  ‘I wish I could remember Brother Sulien,’ said Filippo. ‘I owe him a lot. But I do remember Beatrice, and I could never think of her as an enemy.’

  *

  When Isabel came out of the Baptistery next day, she found the Piazza del Foro full of brightly dressed musicians. She stopped to look at them before going to find Flavia. They were playing flutes and tambourines and lutes and wore coloured ribbons in their long hair – even the men – and clothes with bright embroidery and mirrorwork. Isabel thought they were some of the most glamorous people she had ever seen.

  In the corner of the square, one of the newcomers sat on a stool playing a harp. Gradually, all the other musicians fell silent as the liquid peal of the harp’s notes dominated their sounds. Isabel stood enchanted, caught up in the music, which was both sweet and sad. At the end, many people threw coins into a velvet hat carried by a tall young woman who seemed to be the harpist’s companion.

  Isabel suddenly spotted that Flavia was working at her stall so wove her way across the market to her.

  ‘Who are they?’ she asked. ‘Do you know the one with the harp? He’s brilliant.’

  ‘They are the Manoush,’ said Flavia. ‘Wanderers from country to country and city to city. Most Stravaganti are drawn to them. And that is Aurelio – would you like to meet him?’

  Isabel felt a bit shy when Flavia left her stall to her assistant and took her over to the harpist, stopping on the way to buy two cups of ale. As they got close, Isabel realised that the man was blind, and his companion seemed to act as his eyes.

  ‘Greetings, Aurelio, Raffaella,’ said Flavia, giving the woman the drinks. ‘It is good to have you in Classe again.’

  ‘I thank you, Signora Flavia,’ said the harpist before drinking deep, even though the merchant had not said her name. ‘And who is this with you?’

  Flavia introduced Isabel and she felt in the strangest way that Aurelio was scrutinising her even though he couldn’t see her. He seemed satisfied. ‘You are not from Talia,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No,’ said Isabel, wondering how he knew when she hadn’t even spoken. And she knew he didn’t mean that she was just from another country.

  Before she could say more they were joined by another Manoush, a rusty-haired man with a most attractive smile.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, flashing his very white and pointed teeth at both Flavia and Isabel. ‘I’m Ludo, their cousin.’

  ‘This is Signora Flavia and her friend Isabella,’ said Raffaella, who was strikingly good-looking herself.

  Isabel found herself falling under the spell of these exotic Manoush. She noticed that Ludo was definitely giving her the once-over but his expression suddenly changed and she realised he was no longer estimating her attractiveness but appearing to recognise her in some way. Then she realised that he had looked down at her feet and seen she had no shadow.

  ‘You are one like Matteo,’ he whispered to her.

  Isabel nodded and then thought, But Aurelio can’t have seen that. So how did he know?

  *

  Beatrice had gone first to her old home on the Via Larga where Gaetano and Francesca now lived but it took only minutes for her to realise she had made a terrible mistake.

  ‘How could I have forgotten Filippo was staying with you?’ she moaned to Gaetano. ‘Where can I go now?’

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ he said. ‘Filippo is out. I believe he has gone to the silversmith to order some jewellery. He will be some time.’

  Beatrice put her face in her hands.

  ‘I expect he is commissioning wedding finery for me,’ she said.

  ‘You are safe here with us,’ said Francesca. ‘You can’t be made to marry against your will. It happened to me and I am determined no relative of mine will ever be made to do it again.’

  ‘But I can’t stay in the same house as Filippo,’ said Beatrice, restlessly pacing the room.

  ‘Then let us send you somewhere else safe till he goes,’ said Gaetano. ‘You can have a carriage. It will take you wherever you want to go.’

  ‘Where is that though?’ said Beatrice. She felt utterly lost, her only refuge closed to her.

  ‘What about Bellezza?’ said Gaetano suddenly. ‘Fabrizio is not likely to follow you there.’

  ‘That’s perfect!’ said Francesca. ‘Arianna will welcome you. She is a really good friend.’

  ‘A friend to the di Chimici?’ said Beatrice doubtfully.

  ‘To us,’ said Gaetano firmly. ‘She does not hate all our family. And she will understand very well why you would not want to marry where you did not love.’ He looked fondly at Francesca.

  ‘But surely I would need to leave today?’ said the distracted princess. ‘How can we get a message to her?’

  ‘Leave that to me,’ said Gaetano, full of energy now that something had been decided. ‘Francesca will conceal you in her apartments and I will be back with an answer within the hour.

  *

  Flavia invited the Manoush back to her house for some refreshment and a handful of them came, including Aurelio, Raffaella and Ludo. Isabel had worked out that Ludo must be one of the Manoush who had been rescued by Matt in Padavia.

  They were soon chatting away like old friends.

  ‘How is Matteo?’ asked Ludo. ‘Does he come to Talia any more?’

  ‘No,’ said Isabel. ‘None of them do. There seems to be a sort of one Stravagante at a time rule. At least now.’ She realised as she said it that her time in Talia would come to an end too and it made her feel unbearably sad.

  Ludo picked up her mood immediately. He took her hand.

  ‘You have only just got here,’ he said gently. ‘Your adventure is at its beginning.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Isabel. ‘But why are the Manoush here at this time? Do you think my adventure, as you call it, will involve your people?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ admitted Ludo. ‘We are just passing through. We never stay anywhere for long, unless there is one of our festivals to celebrate. But I’ll ask Aurelio. He sees more than the rest of us in spite of being blind.’

  ‘I’m really not sure what I’m here to do,’ said Isabel. ‘I mean Matt was quite heroic but I can’t see myself saving Classe or Bellezza from a fleet of Gate people.’

  ‘The Gate people?’ said Ludo, surprised.

  ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you,’ said Isabel, suddenly wary.

  But Ludo laughed heartily, showing his pointed teeth again. He reminded her of Andrea when he did that.

  ‘It’s all right, Isabella,’ he said. ‘We are on the same side. I shan’t betray you. And don’t worry about your role as a Stravagante. I’m sure that when the time comes, you will be able to do whatever is required of you.’

  Isabel knew he was just being nice but it made her feel better.

  *

  Arianna was travelling with her father to Bellezza in the ducal carriage, Luciano riding alongside, when Rodolfo told her that a Stravagante was trying to get in touch with him. He had to rummage in his valise for the hand mirror but he was right: there was the face of Brother Sulien. Neither of them had seen him since the aftermath of the massacre and Rodolfo’s second ‘wedding’ to Silvia and they were delighted, if surprised, to hear from him now.

  Rodolfo ordered the carriage to halt and Arianna waved to Luciano out of the window to get him to stop and pay attention.

  I have Gaetano here with me, thought-spoke Sulien. And he has an urgent message for Arianna.

  Rodolfo passed the message to Arianna out loud and Luciano thought how jealous it would have made him in the past. Now he was pleased to have any news of their old friend Gaetano.

  He is not adept at using the mirrors, said the black friar, so when you have seen him I shall convey his meaning to you.

  Gaetano’s ugly face replaced Sulien’s in the mirror. His mouth was moving but neither Rodolfo or Arianna could make anything of what he wanted to say. But his smile was as wide as ever and he looked well, if a bit agitated.


  He would like Arianna to give hospitality to his sister Princess Beatrice, said Sulien, taking over. She is running away from a marriage their older brother would force on her.

  When Arianna passed this on to Luciano, he leaned into the carriage and asked Rodolfo if he might borrow the mirror.

  Who to? he asked Sulien.

  And got the reply he expected: Filippo di Chimici.

  It is good to see you, said Sulien. And to see you safe in Bellezza.

  Ah, said Luciano, we are not there. Arianna and Rodolfo are driving back from Classe and I’m accompanying them as far as Padavia. But it’s good to see you too, Sulien. And how are Sandro and Brother Dog?

  Both are well and enjoying life in the friary, especially in the kitchen, said Sulien. I think Gaetano would like to see you.

  Gaetano’s face came back and he looked pleased to find Luciano, his old fencing student.

  He says to send his love to you both. And Francesca’s, said Sulien. But he is anxious to know if he may safely send his sister to Bellezza.

  ‘We must have her,’ said Arianna impulsively. ‘Gaetano would never ask if it were not important. And we have nothing against her, do we, Father? She was wonderful after the massacre, helping all the injured.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Rodolfo, taking the hand mirror back.

  We shall be back in time to prepare a room for her before she can reach Bellezza, he said. But I think it will annoy the Grand Duke very much.

  I think so too, said Sulien. I’ll tell Gaetano she can come then?

  And tell her she will be very welcome in my palazzo, thought-spoke Arianna, taking the mirror from her father’s hand. She had learned how to do it from Luciano, even though she was not a Stravagante herself.

  Gaetano’s face swam back into view and there was no mistaking the universal gesture of thanks he made to them.

  Then the mirror clouded over – like a phone going dead.

  *

  Filippo di Chimici returned from the jeweller humming. He hadn’t exactly placed an order but he had looked at lots of designs for rings and necklaces and coronets and felt well pleased with his afternoon’s work. Beatrice was not the most beautiful of all the di Chimici cousins but she was perfectly presentable and had a very sweet nature; Filippo could imagine being happy to be her husband. He fully expected to hear from Fabrizio today that he was to be welcomed into the senior branch of the family.

  So he was not surprised when a servant announced to Gaetano and Francesca that His Grace the Grand Duke of Tuschia was below in the great salon and waiting upon their pleasure. It didn’t occur to Filippo not to go down with them and he completely missed the looks they exchanged.

  So it was a shock to see that Fabrizio’s face was dark with anger and he was barely containing his temper.

  Fabrizio was equally disconcerted to see Filippo, who he had forgotten was staying with them in the Via Larga. The Grand Duke would rather have said what he had come for without Filippo standing by, but it couldn’t be helped.

  ‘Brother,’ he began, ‘I come with alarming news. And I fear it will affect you too, cousin. My sister has vanished.’

  ‘Beatrice? Vanished?’ said Filippo. He immediately felt relieved that he hadn’t actually ordered the jewels. ‘Do you mean she has been kidnapped?’

  Fabrizio didn’t entertain that suggestion for a moment. ‘It might be better if she had been,’ he said bitterly. ‘No, I fear she has run away.’

  Filippo was so shocked that he made up for the lack of reaction from Gaetano and Francesca.

  ‘Run away, but why? And where?’

  ‘I am sorry to say this so publicly,’ said Fabrizio uncomfortably, ‘but I fear it was a result of my putting your proposal to her this morning.’

  Filippo looked mortified. ‘She . . . She refused me?’

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Fabrizio, anxious to mollify him. ‘She very clearly promised to marry you – or no one.’

  ‘Then perhaps she has entered a convent?’ said Filippo, still stung but feeling it was better for Beatrice to be a nun than to refuse him in favour of another suitor.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Fabrizio doubtfully. ‘But it is inexcusable. You have my deepest apology that any sister of mine should so forget her position as to leave her home, without any message about where she was going and none for you either. It is not the behaviour of a princess.’

  Filippo bowed his head. He was beginning to think that this was a lucky escape.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘There is no question now of repeating my offer, if it is so distasteful to my cousin.’

  ‘You are very quiet, Gaetano,’ said Fabrizio. ‘What do you think about this?’

  ‘I think that Beatrice has the right to decide whom she will marry,’ said Gaetano.

  ‘Well, of course she does!’ exclaimed Fabrizio. ‘Did I ever suggest anything else? But why should she refuse Filippo? Look at him! Where could she find a better husband?’

  Filippo felt rather self-conscious but tried to look like the model of an ideal husband. Francesca felt sorry for him.

  ‘I’m sure my brother did not wish to force himself on Beatrice if she didn’t care for him,’ she said. ‘There must have been an unfortunate misunderstanding. I’m sure Beatrice will return when everything has calmed down.’

  ‘But where is she?’ said Fabrizio. ‘Poor Caterina is wild with worry and so am I. How could she disappear without leaving a note? And where could she go?’

  ‘Might she have gone to another branch of the family?’ suggested Filippo. ‘Perhaps to Cousin Lucia in Fortezza? She has often invited her, I believe.’

  ‘That is a good thought,’ said Fabrizio. ‘I shall send messages to all the family asking for news – but discreetly of course,’ he added, nodding to Filippo.

  Gaetano was relieved that the suggestion had come from Filippo; he and Francesca had not needed to tell any lies. And now Fabrizio had something to do, he was eager to leave.

  Francesca ordered the best wine from their cellar and poured Filippo a goblet herself. He was looking white but whether with shock or anger it was hard to tell.

  ‘I shall go back to Bellona in the morning,’ he said after two goblets of wine. ‘I’ve wasted enough time here. It was a fool’s errand.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Lippo,’ said his sister. She knew just how humiliated and hurt he must feel.

  Gaetano was sorry for his brother-in-law too and throughout dinner kept him engaged in conversation about affairs in Bellona, deferring to Filippo’s opinions on all sorts of matters until the prince, flattered and under the influence of their good red wine, felt a bit better.

  ‘It would never have worked,’ he said, slightly slurring his words. ‘She didn’t love me, you know. Don’t know why. But you need a wife that loves you, don’t you? I mean you love Gaetano here, don’t you, ’Cesca?’

  ‘I do, dear,’ said Francesca. ‘And I agree with you. A marriage should come only with love. And you will find a wife to love you, I’m sure.’

  ‘Maybe Lucia would have me?’ said Filippo.

  ‘I think you should forget all about marrying for a while,’ said Gaetano. ‘You’ve had a bad experience and you need to get over it. How about another glass of wine?’

  *

  It was only an hour or so after the Duchessa returned to her palazzo that the State mandola she had sent to collect her guest moored at the piazzetta. It was very late at night by then. Arianna herself went down to the courtyard to meet the little party of arrivals. Her heart went out to the slight figure in the green velvet cloak, whose pitifully small luggage was carried by the mandolier.

  ‘Princess!’ she said, going forward to embrace the sister of her enemy.

  And Beatrice, who once feared she might have this warm young woman as a stepmother, now fell gratefully into the arms of her rescuer.

  ‘Welcome to Bellezza,’ said Arianna. ‘Please stay as long as you would like. We are honoured by your visit.’

  ‘Than
k you, Your Grace. You are so kind,’ said Beatrice. Now that she felt safe at last, she feared she might cry.

  ‘Then you must repay my kindness by calling me Arianna,’ said the Duchessa. ‘We shall be like sisters. Can I offer you something to eat or drink?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Beatrice, exhausted. ‘But I should be so grateful if you could just have me shown to my room. I feel I should like to sleep for a long time.’

  Chapter 10

  A Change of Direction

  Isabel’s life had changed out of all recognition. She was so busy and so tired leading two lives in parallel that she almost always forgot to be unnoticeable. Even though she often had dark circles under her eyes, at least two boys had started chatting her up since she’d been stravagating and she hardly ever thought about Charlotte these days.

  Laura had noticed the difference in her. ‘What’s been going on?’ she asked one day on the way to school when Ayesha wasn’t with them. ‘Are you seeing Sky now?’

  ‘I wish,’ said Isabel.

  ‘He doesn’t seem to be with Alice any more.’

  ‘I know,’ said Isabel, who hugged this thought to herself daily.

  ‘Do you know why they broke up?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Not a clue,’ said Isabel. She was discovering it was easier to lie, even to a good friend, than risk talking about Talia to non-Stravaganti. ‘He’s still really cut up about it,’ she added quickly, to distract Laura. ‘I don’t think he’ll be dating again any time soon. More’s the pity.’

  ‘But you do spend a lot of time with him and his friends,’ said Laura wistfully.

  It was true. The coordinated approach to stravagation had become a sort of obsession with the group. After every trip to Talia Isabel felt like a soldier or spy reporting for debriefing. If it was a school day, they’d try to grill her during lunch, but if they couldn’t get her on her own they expected to meet up at the café or at Nick’s house after school.

  Isabel had drunk more coffee since she started stravagating than ever before in her life. And the caffeine was really useful now that she wasn’t getting much sleep.