by Mary Hoffman
Rodolfo walked back to the palazzo, deep in thought. And went to find Arianna.
He tracked her down in the stables. She was teaching Princess Beatrice not to be afraid of the spotted cats. Mariotto was holding Rigello and the two young females on leashes until Beatrice was used to them. The parents were much calmer beasts and the princess could already stroke them without too much nervousness.
The maid Barbara was already familiar with the she-kitten, Dolcissima, who had been one of her wedding presents from the Duchessa, and stroked her confidently, which helped to reassure the timid princess.
‘What a pretty sight!’ said Rodolfo. He knew Arianna’s face well and, even though she was wearing a mask, could see from the sparkle in her eyes how much she was enjoying being with the animals.
‘You know these handsome creatures were a present from your father, Principessa?’ he said, as the cats came to greet him and sniff his pockets. They knew that this tall stooped man in black often brought them nice things to eat.
‘So I believe,’ said Beatrice, tentatively putting out her hand to the parent cats. ‘It was one good thing he did, I suppose,’ she said, turning her large dark eyes towards Arianna.
‘I’m sure he did more than that,’ said Arianna warmly, hoping Beatrice wouldn’t press her for examples. ‘He was a devoted father, I know.’
‘I think it destroyed his mind, losing Falco,’ said Beatrice quietly. Arianna and Rodolfo exchanged looks above the princess’s bowed head.
‘And then Carlo,’ she continued. ‘When my other brothers were also injured, it was too much for him. I know he behaved badly to your betrothed,’ she said to Arianna.
Perhaps the ducal stables were not the right place for it but here was a di Chimici apologising for di Chimici deceit and intended murder.
When they had gone back inside the palazzo and Beatrice had retired to wash the smell of the cats from her hands, Rodolfo followed Arianna to her parlour.
‘I have been thinking,’ he said. ‘It was a good thing you agreed to take in the princess.’
‘She’s a dear, isn’t she?’ said Arianna.
‘She is indeed a “dear”, as you say, but that’s not what I meant,’ said Rodolfo.
‘What then?’
‘Think about it. The Gate people could attack us here or in Classe. And they are in an alliance with Fabrizio di Chimici. Don’t you think he will suggest they pass by Bellezza while his sister is here?’
‘If he doesn’t hate her for disobeying him and running away,’ said Arianna.
‘He is not that wicked,’ said Rodolfo. ‘Any more than his father was. Family feeling is strong in the di Chimici. I shall send word to Classe that I think it is their city that will feel the brunt of the sea-attack.’
*
Andrea was right. The tattoo did not hurt – much – and Isabel was delighted with it. But no sooner had Salvatore finished than a call came from the crow’s nest that a merchant ship was in view. The Raider’s Revenge put on more speed and gained on the other ship surprisingly fast.
Isabel was horrified to see men preparing to fire the cannons but in the end it was just a warning shot across the bows of the merchantman. Isabel stayed on deck but most of the crew, led by Andrea, soon swarmed on board the plump galleon and were in parley with the terrified captain.
No blood was shed. As pirating went, it was almost civilised. Andrea’s men swiftly flung planks between the ships and lashed them firm so that they could roll barrels and carry bales and trunks over to the Revenge. Isabel kept well out of their way. When the other ship had been stripped of its cargo, the pirate bridges were just as quickly removed and the merchantman left to go on its way. Andrea even waved to them.
‘Well, that was quick!’ said Isabel, watching as the crew stowed their booty. ‘They didn’t put up any kind of fight.’
‘They knew better,’ said Andrea. ‘It wasn’t the first time they’d been boarded. And the Black Raider’s reputation means they prefer cooperation to resistance.’
‘What reputation?’ asked Isabel.
‘Merciless bloodshed,’ said Andrea, grinning wolfishly.
‘Do you mean you’ve killed people?’ she asked.
But the shutters came down on his expression again and he said he had to deal with the new cargo.
‘You didn’t!’ said Georgia when Isabel showed them her tattoo on Sunday morning. She was glad there was the pirate adventure to hear about; it might distract Nick from asking too much about Isabel’s trip to Remora.
‘I didn’t know if it would come with me or not,’ said Isabel. ‘I thought you said your bruises in Talia didn’t show back here,’ she said to Matt.
‘That’s true,’ he said, rubbing his jaw and remembering the beating up Rinaldo and Filippo di Chimici had organised for him in Padavia.
‘But Nick and I got stabbed in Giglia,’ said Sky. ‘And our wounds were clearly visible when we got back – and the stitches Sulien put in them.’
‘Maybe it depends if the skin has been pierced or not?’ suggested Georgia.
‘We should add that to our dossier,’ said Nick. ‘What will your parents say about you getting a tattoo, Bel?’
‘I don’t think they’ll be too impressed,’ admitted Isabel, who was beginning to wish she had asked about whether the dolphin would stravagate with her. But she wasn’t sure that Andrea knew she was from a parallel world. Though he did seem to know more about her than she had suspected.
‘Tell us about the pirating!’ said Sky, who clearly was impressed by the tattoo.
And Isabel filled them in, making it sound rather more exciting than it had actually been.
‘And you weren’t scared – or seasick?’ asked Nick.
‘No,’ said Isabel, a bit insulted. ‘It wasn’t actually that frightening. Andrea made me stay on his ship. And I’ve never been seasick.’
‘Will you go again?’ asked Georgia.
‘Maybe. If he asks me. But I don’t usually stravagate on a Saturday night so Flavia wasn’t expecting me. I don’t know if that will happen again.’
‘What about Friday?’ asked Nick. ‘Did your talisman take you to Remora?’
Isabel deliberately didn’t look at Georgia while she told them what had happened. She was very careful to say ‘I’ and not ‘we’ about everything. And the boys were interested that she had seen Rinaldo.
‘But he didn’t see you – you’re sure?’ asked Matt.
‘He didn’t,’ said Isabel. And then she told them about Merla.
Nick was listening as carefully as anyone; he had ridden the winged horse on his only stravagation to Remora. But he was looking at Georgia.
Fabrizio di Chimici was closeted with an ambassador from the Gate people, though that was a grand description for the fierce-looking warrior who had come to the Ducal Palace. The Gate people didn’t go in for diplomats, only soldiers off-duty.
By the time the two men came out of the Grand Duke’s private room, Classe’s fate was sealed. Rodolfo had been right; Fabrizio would not have Bellezza in danger as long as Beatrice was there. But he suspected that the Duchessa might have planned it all to save her city. That she had offered to give the princess sanctuary in order to deflect any attack on Bellezza from the sea. Fabrizio was becoming so devious himself that he attributed the same motives to other people.
And yet at the same time he liked to think that Bellezza knew nothing of his plans and his dangerous allies. He still hoped that any attack from the sea would come as a surprise.
But he didn’t like having to deal with the Gate people and he knew that he was taking a risk in bargaining to have Classe delivered to him after they had sacked it.
On an impulse, he walked back across the private corridor from the Ducal Palace to his home on the other side of the Argento. He needed to see his son and convince himself that what he was doing was worthwhile. Classe would be another city in the di Chimici fold, maybe one that future children of his would rule. And it would shift the bala
nce of power in Talia. Bellezza could be dealt with later, maybe when its Duke was that upstart Cavaliere. He would enjoy that.
The Nucci palace was a sadder place without Beatrice. The Grand Duke and his Grand Duchess were so rich that they could afford a host of servants to look after their every need. But it wasn’t the same as the attentions of a loving sister and aunt. And Caterina missed having another woman of her own rank to talk to. More and more she sent for Francesca to keep her company and play with the baby.
It had created a small rift between Caterina and Fabrizio; she believed that her husband had driven his sister away with his insistence on her marriage to Filippo di Chimici. And he, in his heart, knew she was right. But he was too proud to admit it and Beatrice’s name was not mentioned between them.
After spending time with a Gate warrior, it was like cold wine on a hot day for Fabrizio to scoop his newly bathed son into his arms and bury his nose in the crease between Bino’s chin and neck, breathing in his scent.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Caterina. ‘You are back early.’
‘Nothing wrong. I shan’t be here long. I just wanted to see you and Bino,’ he said. He sat in the low nursing chair, stretching his long legs in front of him, and dandled his son on his lap.
‘I should be so lonely without you,’ he said. ‘It is a solitary business being Grand Duke. And I never thought it would happen while I was still so young. I thought Father would teach me everything I needed to know before he died, but he was snatched away before he could.’
Caterina had her own views about what Niccolò might have taught Fabrizio if he hadn’t died in the duel but she kept quiet about them. She just had to hope that if she went on loving him and giving him children, that would be enough to keep Fabrizio human. She pushed to the back of her mind the thought that love of his family had not stopped Niccolò from losing his humanity. Because if she did not, then she would have to contemplate that she could lose her son as her father-in-law had lost two of his, and that was simply not to be borne.
‘You’ve been lying to me,’ said Nick.
Georgia gave a guilty start. She had been worrying all weekend about having deceived him. And now he had found her at break on Monday and confronted her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t help myself.’
Nick’s expression had changed from crossness to real alarm but Georgia didn’t notice. She just ploughed on, making things worse.
‘I mean, Isabel asked me to go with her and I couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to.’
She looked up and saw that Nick had gone quite white.
‘And when were you going to tell me?’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ she said miserably. ‘When did Bel tell you?’
‘She didn’t,’ said Nick. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘But you said I’d lied to you!’
‘Matt told me he’d met you in the market on Saturday and you’d gone to see Mortimer,’ said Nick. ‘I meant you’d lied about not being able to see me because you were working.’
The bell rang for classes. Georgia reached out to Nick and he brushed her off.
‘Don’t touch me,’ he said very quietly. And he turned and left Georgia standing alone. She hadn’t felt this bad since the Nucci massacre.
*
Isabel had lunch with Laura. Her friend was looking tired, with big dark circles under her eyes.
‘Are you OK, Lol?’ she asked. ‘Is anything wrong?’
Laura shrugged. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said. ‘Just the usual. You know I don’t cope well with pressure.’
‘What pressure?’ asked Isabel, and Laura looked at her as if she was mad.
‘What pressure? It’s only two months till the exams start!’
‘Oh, I know,’ said Isabel quickly. ‘It’s crazy. I thought you meant, you know, at home.’
‘There’s nothing wrong at home,’ said Laura stiffly.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Isabel. ‘I didn’t mean . . . Look, would you like to come back to mine after school?’
Laura looked at her gratefully; Isabel had been very elusive lately.
‘I’d like that,’ she said. ‘Maybe you could help me with my History notes? I can’t get a grip on the difference between Dunkirk and D-Day.’
‘Mmn, yes, sure,’ said Isabel. She had noticed that neither Nick nor Georgia was sitting with Sky and Matt and Ayesha. In fact, they were nowhere to be seen. Her first thought was that they must be somewhere together but then she saw Nick come in by himself and take his tray over to some students in his own year. He never normally sat with them and at least two girls started to flirt with him.
But he didn’t seem to notice and just sat hunched and tense, concentrating on eating his food but not looking as if he knew what was on his tray.
Isabel saw that the other Stravaganti were also looking anxiously at him. And of Georgia there was still no sign.
But she was in their English lesson that afternoon, looking as miserable as Nick.
What’s the matter with everyone? thought Isabel. These Stravaganti couples don’t seem to last long. She looked at Sky, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room from Alice. Would it be any different if he were with me? she thought.
She stopped Georgia after the lesson and the stripey-haired girl said simply, ‘Nick knows.’
‘I didn’t tell him,’ said Isabel.
‘I know,’ said Georgia. ‘It was me. Oh, I didn’t mean to, but he knows now and he’s furious with me. I don’t know what to do.’
There was no question of going back to Nick’s after school. The others might have met at the café but Isabel was glad she had another arrangement. It was surprisingly soothing to be in her own room with Laura, talking about the Second World War.
Then she got a call from Nick.
‘We need to talk about Giglia,’ he said. ‘I need to describe Sulien’s cell to you.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Isabel. ‘Or Sky could, I suppose.’
‘No,’ said Nick. He sounded quite calm. ‘I’ll tell you. Let’s meet after school tomorrow. I’m coming with you.’
Chapter 14
The Prince of Giglia
The phone call marked the beginning of a week in which Isabel felt like a long bungee rope, tied to Nick at one end and with the heavy plunging weight of Georgia at the other. After the call, she had been so thrown into confusion that she talked to Laura a bit about it. Not about Talia of course; that was off-limits.
‘That was Nick Duke,’ she told her. ‘And he’s got me mixed up in this massive row he’s having with Georgia.’
‘Can’t you just tell him you don’t want to get involved?’ asked Laura.
‘Not really,’ said Isabel. ‘I’m sort of involved already. And he wants to come here after school tomorrow.’
‘Are you having a thing with him?’ said Laura, round-eyed. ‘I thought Georgia was your friend.’
‘No, nothing like that,’ said Isabel. ‘I’m not interested in him in that way. But I’ve sort of got caught up in this fight that’s going on between them. I’m sorry I can’t tell you the details.’
All Tuesday she worried about whether to tell Georgia what Nick had said and tried to keep out of her way until she realised that Georgia wasn’t in school. Again Nick spent the lunch break with other people. And Isabel sat with Laura and Ayesha and kept the talk away from Nick, Georgia or anything that might lead back to Talia.
It was an interminable day at school even though Isabel hadn’t stravagated for two nights. But it ended at last and she went back home on her own. It was a miserable grey afternoon, with a cold wind blowing. It didn’t feel as if it would ever be spring.
She huddled in her room, pretending to read through more History notes, and then Charlie knocked on her door.
‘OK?’ he asked. ‘I’m going to make tea and toast – do you want some?’
‘Mm, please,’ said Isabel, having visions of butter melting into hot brown toast.
She was suddenly aware she had eaten hardly anything at lunch.
She came down to the kitchen with her brother and that’s where they were when Nick rang the doorbell. Charlie just put more bread in the toaster but Isabel could feel the disappointment coming off him; he’d obviously been hoping for a chat. And there was something else: disapproval? But was it because Nick was two years younger, or someone else’s boyfriend, or because on Saturday she had denied there was anything going on between them?
‘He’s all right, your brother,’ said Nick when they were in Isabel’s room with their stacks of toast, warming their hands on mugs of tea.
‘Yeah, he’s everyone’s favourite person,’ said Isabel.
Nick looked at her quizzically. She realised that she’d managed to avoid telling all her fellow Stravaganti what her personal unhappiness was. And now she just felt mean. She knew Charlie wanted to spend time with her the way they used to and she had made him take second place to her new friends and her new life in Talia ever since half-term.
‘Forget it,’ she said now. ‘Are you going to tell Georgia you’ve decided to go to Giglia?’
She has not been here since Thursday, Flavia thought-spoke into the mirror. I am beginning to worry about her.
Sulien wants to speak to her about her stravagation to Giglia, she sensed Rodolfo replying. But I suppose Sky can describe to her what she needs to know. Have you spoken to Duke Germano?
About the Gate people? Yes, I told him what you thought. He says the ship-building is coming on well and the rest of the fleet is ready for action.
I wish I could say the same. We will not be ready if they attack in early April, but we’ll send the fleet we have as soon as we get word from Andrea. Have you seen him recently?
No, said Flavia. And that worries me too. I don’t know where he is.
When she had finished communicating with Rodolfo, Flavia took a black velvet bundle out of a drawer and spread the cloth on a table. She shuffled the Corteo cards and set out an array of thirteen.
The first card, at the top of the circle, was the Moon, which did not surprise her. Then, to the left of the Moon, the Spring Maiden, which was also not unexpected. But she drew her breath in sharply to see the King of Serpents coming next. Yet the Stravagante knew that all the cards were subject to more than one interpretation and she waited till all thirteen cards were laid out on the black velvet.