by Deva Fagan
CHAPTER
5
IT TOOK US TWO WEEKS to reach Doma, keeping a fast pace and rising each morning in the dim gray light long before true dawn. Franca didn’t much like it, nor did I. Ubaldo was being distressingly close-lipped about his great plan and the big work he had for me.
I tried to find out what I could from other travelers. We had stopped so that Ubaldo could drink from a spring off the roadway. I gave up my own chance for a drink to chat with a pair of young men who had stopped to take their midday meal. I had heard one of them mention Doma.
“Yes, we’ve come from there,” the elder told me, leaning back against an empty pushcart that smelled faintly of fennel and sage. “Sold a great lot of our sausages to old Giolli in the merchants’ quarter. Fine city, terrible shame about the prince.”
“What about the prince?” I asked.
“Well, you know, how he can’t—” the younger man started to say.
“You traveling to Doma yourselves?” the other man interrupted. “You some sort of traveling players?”
“Yes, juggling, knife throwing, and fortunes told,” I said. “But what about the prince?”
“Fortunes?” the older man repeated. “You’re a fortune-teller? And you’re going toward Doma?”
His emphasis on the word “toward” sent a shiver along my spine.
“Come along, girl, we’re leaving!” Ubaldo shouted from the direction of the wagons.
“Please,” I begged the two sausage-sellers, “what do you mean? Why shouldn’t a fortune-teller go to Doma? Aren’t they welcome there?”
“Oh, aye, they welcome them gladly, but—”
His words were cut off by the thunder of Ubaldo’s voice in my ear. “Now, girl, or I’ll tie you to the wheels next time!” He seized the back of my gown and dragged me bodily toward the wagon.
I HAD LEARNED little more by the time we reached Doma. We approached from the rolling hills to the south, which afforded a magnificent view of the valley and the city at its heart. A sturdy wall prickling with watchtowers encircled a profusion of brown and golden buildings. A river divided the city in two; several large bridges spanned the blue waters. At the very center rose a great golden building that could only be the palace.
The river widened into a lake as it passed out from the city proper. Our road wound along its banks toward the gate. Guards in crisp white and scarlet met us there, inquiring as to our business.
Ubaldo plucked me out of the rear of the blue wagon, where he had sent me to put on my costume. He propelled me before one of the guards as I tried vainly to straighten my starry headdress. “My name is Ubaldo,” he announced. “This is the prophetess Fortunata of the All-Knowing Eye. We’ve come to see the queen.”
“What?” I gasped. “The queen? Are you mad?”
Ubaldo tightened his grip on my arm. “Hold your tongue, girl.”
Ubaldo’s pronouncement had had a strange effect on the guards. I didn’t think they would have noticed my outburst even if I had screamed it. One of them darted off into the tower beside the gate. Another was shouting orders, and still more were clearing the way before us.
“My men will escort you to the palace. The queen awaits you,” said the guard, “and by the Saints, may you be the one.” He looked at me with wide, desperate eyes, unnerving in such an otherwise capable and martial man.
I was trying to maintain my composure, but there were so many questions whirling in my head now. What did he mean by “the one”? And an audience with the queen? What was Ubaldo up to? Belatedly, I wondered if there was a way I could keep Father out of it. But the ranks of soldiers had surrounded both wagons in a phalanx of scarlet.
Ubaldo waved Coso forward with the air of a captain on parade. He pulled me up with him into the blue wagon, and we passed through the gates and into the city. There were crowds watching us eagerly, drawn thick as flies to honey. Our guards had to push them back. They were cheering and shouting, but I could make out no words.
“Ubaldo, what’s going on?”
“You heard the man. We’re going to see the queen. You’ve a fortune to tell.”
I was glad I was sitting already, for otherwise I would have toppled over. “You want me to tell the queen her fortune? She’ll never see us! And why should she?”
“The queen of Doma has a call out to any fortune-teller in the lands. You play this smart, and I’ll see you and your father get a share of the earnings. You hear me?”
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. It must be serious for Ubaldo to actually offer money. “The queen of Doma wants me to read her fortune?” I repeated. My hands trembled. I had dreamed of prophesying for royalty, but this was no dream. I feared it might actually be a nightmare. Curse Ubaldo for not telling me his plan!
“No, her son’s. The prince’s. And you’ll give him a good one, by all the seven Hells.”
Oh, Allessandra, I thought, where are you? I would need all her tricks to get through this with my head intact. Did I dare lie to a prince, to a queen? Spin them some golden floss of a future out of nothing but the few straws I could gather? I could refuse, but what would Ubaldo do then?
My agitated thoughts were interrupted by our abrupt halt. We had reached the palace. It stretched up twice as tall as any other building nearby, the bright golden dome of the central rotunda glimmering in the morning sunlight. Two square towers flanked the dome, and between them ran the great stone edifice under which we had stopped. A vast open plaza surrounded the palace, swirling with pigeons and people, the latter held back by rows of stern, red-garbed guards.
The gathered crowds were muttering and buzzing with chatter. I perked my ears for something that might help me make sense of this strange situation. Bits of conversation stood out here and there. So long since the king passed on. . . . Princess Donata stands ready. . . . Edicts will never be fulfilled. . . . Tired of waiting. . . . Doma suffers. . . . Will this be the one?
I looked up at the palace, ornate with carved cherubs and images of the Saints trailing stone leaves and fruits, as elaborate as one of Zia Rosa’s wedding cakes. How I wished then to be back in Valenzia ogling treats at her bakery, my only fear whether I could talk Zia Rosa into giving me an extra cherry-almond tart. But here I was, about to try to talk a prince into believing my lies.
A set of wide, shallow steps led up to the double doors, which stood open, flanked by more of the scarlet guards. A balcony swept out directly above us. Someone was up there, a young man, I thought, craning my neck to look up at him. His hair glinted gold as the dome itself. I had the sudden feeling he was looking at me, though he was too distant to make out clearly. Then he turned and retreated into the palace.
Even Ubaldo seemed discomfited by our surroundings. He covered it up by shouting at Coso and Cristo to watch the horses and wagon, but his face was flushed and his bald head slick with sweat. I took advantage of his distraction to slip down from the blue wagon. I wanted Father with me, whatever happened. I did not trust Ubaldo one jot, and though he claimed we were welcome here, I wasn’t planning to take any risks.
“Nata, dear, what is the meaning of all this?” Father whispered as two guards appeared on either side of us.
“I don’t know, Papa. Ubaldo’s up to something; he says I’m to read the fortune of the prince.”
“Well, my child, if anyone can do so, it will be you. You’ve the magic, I’ve seen it.”
Lies and trickery. Not magic. But would a prince know any better than a shepherd or a farmer? I’d told fortunes for clerics and sages, with none ever questioning the truth of it. I gulped down a deep breath and took tight hold of Father’s hand.
Our scarlet guards escorted Ubaldo, Father, and me up the stairs to the great double doors of the palace. Another man in scarlet stood there, a reedy fellow with a puckered scar along the line of his chin. Though he looked to be twice as old as our fresh-faced guards, his movements were even sharper, his back straighter. In his eyes I found no hint of the excitement or expectatio
n that bubbled all around us.
“So this is another one?” he said simply as we surmounted the last step.
“Yes, Captain Ribisi,” the guard at my right said. “Now at last we will have the Edicts fulfilled!”
“We’ll see about that,” Captain Ribisi said drily.
He led us along a wide hall paneled in dark wood. I had to keep tugging Father’s hand, as he would stop at every painting and bronze to ogle, and there were many.
“A dozen Bragellis already!” Father said. He pulled me aside toward an alcove housing a life-sized bronze of a maiden seated upon an ornate chair, with a courtly knight kneeling before her. “And look! Nata! The slipper! Do you see it?”
I saw, though I had to blink to be sure of it. The knight was kneeling not simply in obeisance, as I had first thought. He held, in his bronze hands, a single golden leather shoe, encrusted with jewels. The maiden had one slender bronze foot lifted and held out, in the act of slipping it into the shoe.
“Is it one of yours, Papa?” I asked.
He shook his head, sadly. “No, even when the fairies still granted me their magic, I could not have made such a slipper. Perhaps my own papa, in his prime, might have dreamed such a thing.”
A small plaque was affixed at the base of the statue. I squinted to read it. Queen Rosetta receives the gift of the doge of Valenzia.
Father was still gazing raptly at the slipper.
“Papa, could it be? You told me that story once about the doge buying the slippers right off Grandmo—”
“You can gawk at the art later, old man,” Ubaldo said, shoving both of us along. “The girl has work to do.”
“Stop,” said a sibilant voice from deeper within the alcove. Captain Ribisi glanced back at the figure that emerged from the shadows behind the statue, then raised one hand crisply. Our escort halted.
“Princess Donata,” he greeted the woman in a carefully colorless voice. “I’m afraid your nephew is expecting these . . . guests. We must proceed.”
“Now, my dear captain, surely my nephew can wait a bit longer. You know he’s used to it. And I would very much like to meet our newest candidate.”
She stepped out into the light of the hall, but she was like a piece of shadow herself, lithe and dark and seeming to hide any number of unknown dangers. Her gown was a rich midnight blue, and a matching scarf covered her fair hair. She swept her gaze over all of us, settling last on me. I straightened my headdress, wondering what exactly she meant by “candidate.”
“This one’s but a girl herself,” Princess Donata said. “And yet she has the Sight? She is the one who will reveal our prince’s fortune to him, that he might fulfill the Edicts and become king at last?”
“Yes, my lady,” Ubaldo said, clasping his thick hands together and ducking his head as he spoke. “We heard of the queen’s call, and if it’s true visions she wants, Fortunata here will give them. She’s got the Sight, I swear it on the Saints, every last one. Why, just last week she foretold a great flood in Sirenza; without her word, there would have been hundreds perished.”
“A flood was it?” The woman arched her fine golden brows.
“Yes, and the scarlet fever, when it came to Valenzia. And she’s foretold hundreds of weddings. And she can summon spirits of the departed, for an extra fee, of course.” He licked his lips and grinned broadly.
I gritted my teeth. Any fool could tell Ubaldo was lying, and this woman was no fool. But she simply smiled. “Very well then, Fortunata, you are all I could hope for. I am glad to hear that our city’s future lies in such good hands. Go on, Captain, take the seer to her fate. Though I am sure one of her power must already know what lies ahead.” As the captain led us off down the hall, I could hear Princess Donata chuckling.
I was more relieved than nervous when we reached a great white door emblazoned with a golden crown. At last I would have some answers, or so I hoped.
Captain Ribisi led the way into the crowded audience chamber. The buzz of conversation died away instantly. His boots rang out loud as cathedral bells as he crossed the open expanse of the hall toward a dais at the far end. Ranks of courtiers in rich silks and velvets lined the sides; all eyes were upon us. Ubaldo, Father, and I followed the captain, herded along by our ever-present coterie of guards. Two tall gilt chairs stood atop the dais, but only one was occupied.
The woman seated there was pale and slightly plump, with a face curved and soft as a swan’s feather, though tracked by lines of care and worry. She looked as if she had been crying.
Captain Ribisi bowed so low his nose touched the knee of his bent leg, then swept up smoothly. “Your Highness, I present the All-Knowing Fortunata, Mistress of the Unknown, who has heeded your call and comes to grant her wisdom in our time of need.” I could have sworn that the captain smirked slightly over that pronouncement, but it was hard to tell under his large gray mustache.
Ubaldo tweaked my elbow, so I stepped forward, attempting a curtsy. My feet felt as if they were encased in lead.
“You claim to have the Sight?” asked the queen. “You swear that you come here truthfully, in good faith, and that the words you speak will be genuine prophecy?”
I froze. My lips were parted, and I had taken in the breath to speak, but I was suddenly speechless. Beneath my starry headdress, beads of sweat matted my hair. Dared I lie to a queen, before dozens of worthy witnesses? Yet if I denied it, what would Ubaldo do to me, to Father?
“My daughter is all those things, and more,” said a voice from beside me. I turned to see Father, hands clasped, blinking through his great thick spectacles at the queen. His hands trembled slightly, but his voice was firm. “She has been granted the magic of sight; she truly does see what will be. I have seen those to whom she has granted comfort and peace in the knowledge of what shall come to pass.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I would have believed him myself, if I didn’t know better. Father always did have the strength to believe in anything. Just not himself.
“You swear this? It is a matter of great importance. The Edicts must be observed. And we have been misled so often. . . .” The queen trailed off, dabbing at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.
“Oh, yes, I swear it on the soul of my dear, departed wife. By all the Saints. On my own life, I swear it.” Father looked at me with shining eyes. I felt my own eyes smart.
Father’s pronouncement sent the crowds of courtiers into a buzz of conversation, though it did not disguise the grumbling “hmph” from Captain Ribisi.
“Very well.” The queen turned to me. Did she expect me to prophesy then and there? The reassurance of Father’s faith in me slipped away with the hammering pulse of my heart. Then she spoke again, and the courtiers fell silent. “Our noble city of Doma has flourished for generations under her kings and queens. It was the first of our line who set down the Edicts that have guided us all these years. The Edicts are the core of Doma, and they must be followed, lest ruin and devastation be visited upon us by the Saints. Read now the Fifth Edict, Jacopo,” she commanded a rotund man with ink-stained fingers who stood at the edge of the dais.
He shuffled the sheets of parchment in his hands and gave several harrumphing coughs. Drawing himself up impressively, he read aloud. “‘When it shall come time for a Prince to ascend to the Throne, he must embark first upon his Great Quest, and shall in due course rescue, with strength of arms and purity of heart, a fair and noble Princess beset at that time by Dire Peril. Upon the Triumphant Return of the Prince, he shall ask for the Hand of the Princess in Marriage under the Blessing of the Saints, that she may join him as Queen.’”
My confused thoughts whirled like a flock of unsettled birds. There had been no mention of a prophecy in the Edict. Where did I fit into this puzzle? I struggled to remain calm. I had to pay close attention now. My success could depend on the smallest detail, the hints that might reveal what the queen was looking for. The clerk Jacopo stepped back, furling the papers. To my relief, the queen spoke again.
I followed this so far, but still did not see where I or my fortunes would fit in. My heart hammered. I felt as if I stood ready to run a footrace, sweat slick on my palms, excitement and fear shivering in my limbs.
“But the Saints have chosen to test us. For it has been five years since the death of our beloved King Giovanni, and in that time we have found no Princess in Dire Peril to satisfy the Fifth Edict. That is why you have been summoned here, seer.” She turned to Jacopo again. “Read the Sixth Edict.”
The clerk obliged, after additional shuffling of papers. “‘If such a Princess in Dire Peril be not readily apparent, the Prince shall consult a True Seer, and receive his fortune, which shall tell of the Princess and where she may be found. The Prince shall proclaim the Prophecy to the people, and its Truth shall ring from his lips without falter. He shall then set forth and fulfill his destiny.’”
“Now then, we await your prophecy,” said the queen, nodding to me.
The thrumming of my heartbeat was so loud I thought they all must hear it as they stared at me in the silence that followed. But this was no time for nerves. I had prophesied for Captain Niccolo, with his sword to my throat. I could do this. Somehow, I must produce a Princess in Dire Peril. They were all watching me, waiting for this fabled prophecy. I swallowed against the dryness that threatened to choke me.