City of Secrets (4 page)

She could no longer see herself or her family in the same light as before. Carlo had probably killed young Davide before the weddings and she was sure her father had committed or at least ordered murders. Hadn't he wanted to kill all the remaining Nucci and let Filippo die of his wounds? Those terrible scenes of six months before had taught Beatrice how fragile and vulnerable human flesh was; nothing was worth the deaths and wounds she had seen – not even the honour of the di Chimici. These ideas stayed with the Princess, haunting her dreams, and the magnificent new palace did nothing to dispel them.

Matt's day at school seemed as if it would never end. He was tired and confused and more impatient with his reading problems than he had been for years. He just wanted to leave them all behind him and move forward the way he had in his dream. He was distant with Ayesha at break and saw that he had hurt her. But it was as if he was moving in a bubble, like a hamster in a plastic ball, and couldn't reach out to her.

He looked curiously at the students Constantin had told him were Stravaganti – Sky, with the locks, Nick, the fencer, and Georgia, the girl with the stripey hair. The professor hadn't said anything about Alice, Sky's blonde girlfriend but she was probably one too. Matt caught himself thinking that what he had dreamed was real but that was ridiculous. Yet the four students were regarding him just as curiously.

At the end of school, he found them waiting for him at the gate.

‘You OK, Matt?' asked Nick.

‘You look tired,' said Georgia.

‘Bad night?' added Sky.

‘Whoa,' said Matt. ‘What is this? The Sleep Police?' But he had the strangest feeling they knew exactly what had happened last night.

‘Really,' said Georgia. ‘Did you have . . . a sort of weird dream?'

They were all looking at him intently, even Alice. At that moment, Ayesha came out. Normally he would have walked her home but she hesitated when she saw him talking to a group of people she didn't know.

In that instant, Nick asked eagerly, ‘Did you go to Talia?' and Matt knew he had to talk to them some more. He turned away from Ayesha and saw out of the corner of his eye that she was leaving, her head ducked down as if she was upset.

‘Let's go and get a coffee,' he said.

They moved off towards Café@anytime, the only independent coffee shop in their bit of Islington. It was a popular hang-out with Barnsbury students. Ordering their drinks and finding a table big enough for five covered up what might have been an embarrassing silence. But once they were all served they couldn't avoid the subject that had brought them together.

‘How did you know I dreamed about Talia?' demanded Matt suddenly.

‘Because it wasn't a dream,' said Nick. ‘You didn't dream it – you really went there.'

‘But how did you . . . ?' Matt stopped, seeing four pairs of eyes looking at him with identical anticipation. ‘You've been there, haven't you, all of you?'

They all nodded but quiet Alice said, ‘Only once. I went to prove to myself that was what the others were doing. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.'

‘That book you bought from Mortimer is your talisman, isn't it?' asked Georgia. ‘He told us after you'd gone that it came from the same place as mine.'

‘Talia?' asked Matt.

‘Originally, yes, but Mortimer doesn't know that. He thinks it came from an old woman's house near the school.'

‘The one I live in now,' said Sky.

‘Where did you go? What city?' asked Nick.

‘Pad . . . something,' said Matt.

‘Padavia,' said Georgia. ‘That's where Luciano was going to university. Did you see him?'

Nick was looking at her strangely.

Matt shook his head. ‘I
was
in a university. But the only person I met was called Professor Constantin.'

‘Is he your Stravagante?' asked Sky.

‘I guess so,' said Matt, slowly eating cappuccino foam off his spoon. ‘He said he was
a
Stravagante – and he said I was one too.'

‘Then you are,' said Nick. He looked upset.

‘Who was yours?' asked Matt, not really believing that he was going along with all this.

Nick looked really unhappy now. ‘I didn't have one of my own,' he said. ‘I had to share Sky's. I'm not like the rest of you. I stravagated here
from
Talia and never went back – except as a visitor.'

Matt stared at him. ‘You're Talian? Like an alien or something?'

‘Not any more,' said Georgia firmly, putting her arm round Nick. ‘He belongs here now.'

‘But I am really Prince Falco di Chimici,' said Nick, straightening his back and looking every inch a noble. ‘I was born in Giglia and my father was Grand Duke of all Tuschia.' Then he slumped. ‘Until I killed him,' he said flatly.

‘Her Grace is still in bed,' said the flustered maid, when Rodolfo sent to see if Arianna was feeling better. It was late morning in Bellezza.

‘Does that mean she is back from Padavia?' said Rodolfo. ‘Or that she is still away and there is a bolster in her bed?'

He didn't seem angry but Barbara knew that he was often most dangerous when most quiet. He seldom raised his voice but she was nonetheless terrified of him. And what was she to do now, if he knew all about her mistress's absence? That must mean he knew it had been her at the banquet last night.

‘Did you enjoy the fireworks?' he asked kindly and she burst into tears.

‘Don't tease the girl, Rodolfo,' said his wife Silvia.

Barbara was, perhaps unwisely, not nearly so afraid of Signora Rossi and looked to her for guidance.

‘You can tell us,' said Silvia. ‘My husband has great powers of divination, as I'm sure you know. You cannot expect that he would not have seen through your little deception.'

This was not strictly speaking what had happened but it suited Silvia's purposes for the maid to be less nervous of her than of the Senator.

‘Madama,' said the unhappy girl. ‘I believe that Her Grace has just returned.'

‘Then please tell her we will wait upon her in her parlour in half an hour,' said Rodolfo. ‘And please attend on her yourself.'

*

Arianna knew she was in for the worst scolding of her life. It was worse than the time she had disobeyed the people she thought were her parents – and the law – and stayed in Bellezza overnight on the Forbidden Day. Then she had nearly lost her life. But the person who had saved her was her real mother, Silvia, who was now waiting for her explanation of why she had run away to Padavia, instead of attending her birthday celebrations.

But it had been worth it, however grave Rodolfo might look, whatever tongue-lashing Silvia might give her. She had been with Luciano and that was the most important thing. Arianna's cheeks were glowing and her eyes sparkling, in spite of the hideously early start she had made in Padavia, to get back in time to get the Bellezza ferry from the mainland. She entered her parlour, freshly dressed in green silk, with her head held high.

‘Good day,' said Silvia icily. ‘How is your throat today?'

‘Quite recovered, thank you,' said Arianna more calmly than she felt. ‘You may leave us, Barbara.'

‘No,' said Rodolfo. ‘She must stay.'

‘Let us drop this charade,' said Silvia. ‘You know, as we do, that the girl impersonated you at your birthday celebrations, while you were in Padavia with Luciano.'

Arianna sat down and indicated to the maid to take a seat too. Barbara perched awkwardly on the edge of a spindly chair; she was not used to sitting in the company of nobles.

‘That is so,' Arianna said.

‘That was an incredibly dangerous thing to do,' said Rodolfo.

‘I know,' said Arianna. ‘And stupid, foolish, selfish, careless – all the other things you are both going to say to me. But I had to go there. You can say whatever you like but you won't make me regret it.'

‘Or stop you from doing it again,' said Rodolfo. ‘So next time we must make sure that the deception is better planned.'

Chapter 4

Double Danger

Matt got through his homework as quickly as he could that night. He had tried to phone Ayesha about ten times but her mobile went straight to voicemail every time; he left only two messages.

It was hard to concentrate on Maths problems and web design with his love life in suspense and the thought hanging over him that he might stravagate again that night, without even knowing what that really meant.

He had decided that if the dream happened again, he would believe that it was real, that he really had travelled in time and space to another world, where Italy was just a bit different.

‘Mum,' he asked casually when he'd finished the homework. ‘Have we got an atlas?'

‘Of course,' said Jan, surprised. ‘It's in the dining room. Right-hand bookcase, bottom shelf.'

She always knew exactly where every single book was in the house. Matt found it straight away and spread the big atlas out on the dining table. There was a full, two-page spread of Italy, sticking its high-heeled and booted leg out into the Mediterranean. He pored over it, completely unsure where he'd been in the other Italy everyone called Talia. But there was only one place marked that began ‘Pad' and that was Padua. It was on the mainland, near Venice.

‘You don't do Geography,' said Harry accusingly from the doorway.

‘I know I don't,' said Matt, stung. ‘But there's no reason I shouldn't look at a map if I want, is there? It's a free country.'

Harry shrugged. ‘That's debatable.'

Most of the time Matt and Harry got on reasonably well but every so often, when his little brother was being deliberately clever, Matt wanted to strangle him.

‘Piss off,' he said now, turning back to his map.

‘Italy?' said Harry, looking over his shoulder.

‘Yeah, I'm thinking of taking Ayesha there next summer when the exams are over,' said Matt, rather pleased with this idea.

Harry looked at him as if he'd suggested a trip to the moon. ‘But that's more than nine months away. How do you know you'll even be together by then?'

Now Matt thought he really would like to strangle his brother.

‘Why shouldn't we be?' he said irritably. ‘Do you know something I don't?'

‘No,' said Harry. ‘I was just
saying
.'

‘Well don't. Don't say anything at all unless you've got something worth saying.'

Matt clapped the atlas shut and put it back on the shelf and went to his room in a foul mood. He went over to the computer and Googled ‘Padua' just to take his mind off Ayesha. The Wikipedia entry told him that the city was called ‘Padova' in Italian but the Latin name had been ‘Patavia', which did sound a lot like Padavia. It was forty kilometres west of Venice.

The article was too long and hard for him to read it all but he noticed there was a link to another one about the University of Padua. He just about managed to read that it was founded in 1222 and was the second oldest university in Italy but there was too much text to scroll through to see if it had a Scriptorium. Matt would have searched under Scriptorium too, but he wasn't sure how to spell it and he still felt very tired from his disturbed night.

Arianna couldn't believe her ears. ‘You're not angry?' she said.

‘On the contrary,' said Rodolfo. ‘I don't know when I was last angrier. But it is obvious that your need to be with Luciano is going to override every other consideration. So if you have to make these trips to Padavia, we must be sure that they are done as safely as possible.'

Silvia was as surprised as Arianna; she hadn't expected Rodolfo to be so understanding.

‘First,' continued Rodolfo, ‘we must establish that Barbara here willingly impersonated you and would be prepared to do so again.'

He turned to the maid, who was very looking uncomfortable.

‘Did my daughter explain the dangers to you?' he asked.

‘There wasn't much need of that,' said Silvia. ‘The last time she impersonated Arianna, she nearly died.'

Arianna suddenly felt guilt-stricken. ‘It was Barbara who thought of the danger to me. She insisted that I take her young man Marco with me.'

Rodolfo strode to the door and summoned the footman who was on duty outside it.

‘Are you Marco?' the women heard him ask. ‘No? Then go and fetch him here immediately.'

‘Please don't punish him,' said Barbara. ‘He only did it because I asked him.'

‘Punish him?' said Rodolfo, surprised. ‘I intend to reward him, and you, for taking such good care of my daughter between you. If these deceptions are to continue, she will need a well-armed bodyguard to accompany her.'

Marco was shown into the room, still brushing the crumbs of his hasty late breakfast from his livery. He looked as nervous as his fiancée. A glance at the people in the room told him that their escapade had been discovered. He moved closer to Barbara.

‘It's all right, Marco,' said Arianna. ‘No one is angry with you for accompanying me to Padavia.'

‘Indeed,' said Silvia. ‘We are grateful to you for your protection of the Duchessa.'

‘Did you go armed?' asked the Regent.

‘Just a knife, my lord,' admitted Marco. ‘But I am useful with my fists too.'

‘I am sure you know what happened in the Church of the Annunciation in Giglia,' said Rodolfo. ‘When Barbara last wore a dress designed for the Duchessa.'

Marco said nothing but his hands clenched at his sides.

‘The sort of people who would attack a woman for political reasons would not be deterred by fists and an ordinary knife,' said Rodolfo. ‘The Duchessa herself had to kill an attacker in the church with her own Merlino-blade.'

‘I know, my lord,' said Marco. ‘I have heard Her Grace was very brave.'

There was a pause while all of them thought about that terrible day. Barbara was quite white and her hand went involuntarily to the wound in her breast.

‘If Barbara is willing,' said Rodolfo, ‘the Duchessa would like to travel in disguise to Padavia every few weeks.' He looked at Arianna and she gave him a little nod. ‘I should like you to go with her, properly armed with your own Merlino-blade and a sword, both of which I shall furnish you with. But in the meantime, whenever your other duties allow, you must have lessons in how to use them. Is Guido Parola still in Bellezza?' he suddenly asked his wife.

‘Yes,' said Silvia. ‘He is not going to university in Fortezza until the New Year. He had some business with his brother to settle first here in the city.'

‘Then send for him, if you will, my dear,' said Rodolfo. ‘Impress upon him the need for secrecy and put young Marco in his hands for lessons in the use of weapons. In some ways it might be better to send one of the palace guards to Padavia with the Duchessa, but I would like to keep this secret known to as few people as possible.'

He paced the length of the small room.

‘A duchessa is never more at risk than when she uses a substitute and her enemy knows it,' he said. ‘It was in this very room that I saw Arianna's mother in a state of shock after Cavaliere Luciano saved her from an attempt on her life, while another woman posed as Duchessa.'

He did not say that the would-be assassin had been the same Guido Parola who would train Marco. Or that Arianna's mother was again in this room with him. Neither Barbara nor Marco knew that the previous Duchessa had survived the second attempt on her life and now lived as Rodolfo's second wife.

‘But because we must not expose Barbara to any unnecessary risk,' he went on, ‘I would also suggest that these impersonations never take place again on days when there are formal engagements. We don't want the palace too full of people at such times.'

‘And these young people must be rewarded for their extra duties,' said Silvia.

‘Indeed,' said Rodolfo. He went to a wooden chest on a table near the window and took out a velvet bag that chinked. He handed it to Barbara. ‘This is for you both, for what you did yesterday. I believe you are soon to be married? Perhaps this will be useful towards your marriage expenses. There will be as much again for any further occasions when the Duchessa visits Padavia in disguise. But you must think carefully before you accept. Every such expedition puts you both in danger.'

*

When Matt found himself in the Scriptorium again, he was already in his Talian clothes. But he was in Constantin's ‘studio' and on his own. Cautiously, he opened the door. Work in the Scriptorium was in full swing, with all the machines being used. Something about the quality of the light made him think it was earlier in the day than the last time, perhaps because he had fallen asleep so much earlier in his own world.

In spite of his disguise, Matt felt very exposed. He didn't know a soul in Padavia, except for the man called Constantin. He plucked up courage to ask one of the burly men operating a printing press if he knew where the Professor was.

‘Lecturing,' said the man briefly. ‘Won't be back for an hour or so.'

Matt wandered over to the main door; no one took the slightest notice of him. He pulled the dusty velvet hat over his forehead and pushed open the door to the street. And stepped out into the sixteenth century.

The streets were cobbled, the houses built close together, with lines of washing strung across the streets from one side to the other. The roofs were of terracotta tiles and the bright blue sky convinced him that he was indeed in a country well south of England.

There were no cars or buses but Matt could see there had been horses passing by and as he looked around him a fine-looking horse came trotting up. A young man about his own age swung lightly down from the saddle and tied the horse's reins to a wooden post – just like the cowboys in every Western Matt had seen.

But this was no cowboy. He wore elegant clothes and had long black curly hair tied back with a velvet ribbon. If Matt had met him in his own world, he would have thought he was a bit girly, but in Padavia, the horseman looked confident and at home. In spite of his easy grace and slight build, he seemed as if he could take care of himself. And he had a wicked-looking dagger in his belt.

Matt expected him to walk past and go about whatever his business was but, instead, he stopped and looked closely at him. Too late Matt realised he had forgotten about not having a shadow.

The newcomer grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the shade of a nearby building.

‘Careful,' he said. ‘You don't want just anyone to know you are a Stravagante.'

Matt had the strangest feeling that he knew this boy, at least by sight, but he couldn't think where he could have seen him before.

‘Matteo?' said the boy. ‘Matt? Professor Constantin asked me to look out for you.'

‘But how did you . . . ?' Matt began, and then said, ‘Oh I get it, the shadow thing. I thought for a minute we knew each other.'

‘Not exactly – it's a bit complicated. I'm Luciano, sometimes called Cavaliere Crinamorte. I'm at university here, but my home is in Bellezza.'

Matt stared at him even harder.