City of Secrets (6 page)

Antonio was wrestling with laws on carriage taxes when the messenger was shown in. He looked up in relief, till he recognised the livery.

‘Honoured sir,' began the envoy, sweeping off his plumed hat and bowing low. ‘I bring greetings from His Grace the Grand Duke of all Tuschia.'

‘Sit down man, do,' said Antonio testily. ‘There's no need for all that flowery stuff. You come from Fabrizio di Chimici, I can see that. How about a cup of ale?'

The messenger, thrown off his script, sat on a plain wooden stool and nodded. He had never been received so unceremoniously.

‘What's afoot in your city, then, lad?' asked Antonio, when the ale had been brought.

‘Er, my master is well and trusts that you are too?' he began hesitantly.

‘Yes, yes, fine well,' said Antonio. ‘As are my wife and daughters. And the Grand Duchess?'

‘She expects an heir,' said the messenger, glad to get one of his pieces of information out.

‘Then let us drink a health to the Grand Duchess and her son if it so be,' said Antonio. ‘I have had only girls myself but have never had cause to regret that. Is this what you rode here to tell me?'

‘Not that alone,' said the messenger, relaxing under the influence of Antonio's strong ale. ‘The Grand Duke is concerned that the young man from Bellezza who killed his father has not been found.'

Antonio's face turned to granite. ‘Killed his father? I thought Niccolò di Chimici died in a duel? You make it sound like common murder.'

The messenger shifted uncomfortably. ‘You might know that the young man, the Cavaliere Luciano Crinamorte as he is known, is no longer in Bellezza. Rumour in that city has it that he is here in Padavia.'

‘And if rumour should be right?'

This was the difficult bit.

‘My master asks that you agree to hand him over to his jurisdiction. That I . . . that he . . . that he come back to Giglia with me to stand trial.'

Antonio did nothing quickly. He supped his ale with as much deliberation and enjoyment as if he had been shoeing horses all morning.

‘Well,' he said at last. ‘I don't want to disoblige your master but he must know that his authority, great though it is in the Tuschian cities, does not extend to Padavia. Therefore no arrest warrant issued in Giglia has any weight here.'

‘I believe, honoured sir, that the request was made more in the spirit of a favour between rulers than one made according to the law,' said the messenger. This was not going well.

‘You know,' said Antonio confidentially, pouring more ale for the messenger. ‘If we were sitting here discussing an ordinary murder – or assassination as it would have been – I would be sympathetic to the Grand Duke's request. But death in a duel is never subject to prosecution – unless, of course, one duellist played dirty.'

He looked the messenger in the eye and the poor man changed colour. It was common knowledge in Giglia that Grand Duke Niccolò had poisoned the foils. He said nothing.

‘As it is,' said Antonio. ‘I don't find that the Cavaliere has any charge to answer and it would be foolhardy for him to return to any Tuschian city while the new Grand Duke is so unreasonably angry with him.'

‘So that is the answer I must take my master?' asked the messenger.

‘Say to him that I rejoice in his good news and recommend him to look forward to the good fortune of a healthy child, not backward to the death of a father. And if the Cavaliere should find himself in my city, I will accord him all the welcome and protection that Padavia can afford.'

When Matt woke in his room after his second stravagation, he no longer doubted that he had become a traveller in time and space. For whatever reason, he was being transported to Talia every night and both of the people he had met there were in danger from the family called di Chimici. Luciano was basically on the run from a murder rap, though he hadn't in fact done anything wrong. And Professor Constantin was printing illicit material that would get him into serious trouble if it got outside Padavia and into di Chimici hands.

‘The penalty for practising what they call magic is death,' Constantin had said. ‘And what they call magic covers everything that the Stravaganti do.'

‘Stravaganti?' said Matt. ‘Including me?'

‘Including you,' agreed Constantin.

It was all very well to feel unhappy in his own world about girlfriend problems or difficulties with schoolwork. But in his Talian life, which was clearly going to continue, it seemed that if he set foot outside the city, Matt was going to be as much a di Chimici target as Luciano.

He looked at his mobile phone and found a text message from Ayesha. He froze as he deciphered the dreaded words ‘We need to talk.'

Chapter 6

University Students

When he got to the gates of Barnsbury Comp that morning, Matt found his best friend Chay waiting for him. He was relieved to see him. If they bumped into Ayesha, she would hardly dump him in front of someone else.

‘What's up?' asked Chay. ‘You look rubbish.'

‘Cheers,' said Matt but the bathroom mirror had told him much the same thing. He had dark circles under his eyes like someone who hadn't slept. And in a sense that was true.

‘Girlfriend trouble?' said Chay.

Matt looked up sharply. ‘Has she said anything to you?'

Chay shifted uncomfortably and kicked at a little bit of gravel with his trainer. ‘Might've,' he said, looking down.

‘Come on,' said Matt. ‘What did she say?'

‘Just that you seem to have gone off her,' mumbled Chay. ‘If you haven't, I think you need to tell her soon – before she gets in first and dumps you.'

Matt felt a weight lift off his heart. ‘Of course I haven't gone off her! She's the best thing that ever happened to me. But I've got a lot of stuff going on. I'll tell her, don't worry.'

‘What sort of stuff?' asked Chay. ‘And what do those guys in the upper sixth have to do with it?'

Matt was absolutely stumped. How on earth could he tell Chay, who had been his best mate since junior school, that he'd found a book of spells that transported him to another world? And as he realised that there was no way to do it, his heart sank again. If he couldn't think of a cover story to tell Chay, then how could he explain it to Ayesha?

Guido Parola was a good teacher and he found Marco an eager pupil. There was a moment's embarrassment when they met for their first lesson and Marco recognised the red-haired assassin. When Guido had attempted to stab the previous Duchessa in her state mandola, Marco had been the mandolier in charge of the vessel.

But the old Duchessa, in reward for his service, had made Marco footman in the Ducal Palace and given him a handsome uniform and a bag of silver. In a few months he would be twenty-five and entitled to a generous mandolier's pension. Then he would marry his Barbara but meanwhile he must learn how to protect the young Duchessa and who better to teach him than a reformed assassin?

Reformed assassin! Guido was sick of the sound of those words but that was how his mistress, Silvia Rossi, Regent Rodolfo's wife, always referred to him and it was a punishment he had to bear. For he had indeed, tempted by money he sorely needed, agreed to kill the old Duchessa. And he was one of the small number of people who knew his mistress's secret – that she was the same Duchessa he had tried to kill and who had also survived the second assassination attempt that was supposed to have killed her.

Marco certainly didn't know that. He had never seen the old Duchessa without a mask or the Regent's wife with one. But he saw how Guido blushed when Signora Rossi referred to his criminal past.

‘Guido is very handy with a dagger and a sword,' she said pleasantly. ‘And those skills which would kill a ruler may also protect her. Teach Marco all you know, Guido, for my stepdaughter's life will be in his hands every time she travels to Padavia.'

She caught his eye as she said ‘stepdaughter' and Guido nodded slightly; he knew how important Arianna's safety was to her real mother, standing before him.

‘You mustn't mind Signora Rossi,' he told Marco, as soon as she had left them. ‘It's just her way.'

‘How long have you worked for her?' asked Marco.

‘Oh, quite a while,' said Guido vaguely. He didn't tell the footman that Silvia had in fact released him from her service in the spring but he had needed to stay in Bellezza, to look after his dissolute brother, and hadn't quite been able to detach himself from the palace. But one day soon he would leave for Fortezza and begin his studies at the University there. He envied Luciano his life in Padavia.

‘Well, let's get started,' he said. ‘The most important thing to be prepared for is attack from behind.'

And he threw Marco to the floor, taking him completely off-guard.

*

Luciano was riding back home from the University when he heard another horse behind him. There was nothing unusual in that but he urged his own horse a little faster. The following rider speeded up to match him and Luciano felt the first chill of fear. He was caught between longing to get to the relative safety of his home and not wanting any pursuer to know where he lived. While he hesitated about which route to take, the other rider gained on him and a familiar voice called out, ‘Luciano?'

Luciano pulled on the reins. ‘Cesare?' he said. ‘What on earth are you doing here? You frightened the life out of me!'

The two horses drew together, tossing their heads and taking in each other's scent, while the two young riders clasped arms. Cesare laughed at his friend's bemusement.

‘I'm a student, like you,' he said. ‘Just started.'

‘But why?' asked Luciano rather bluntly.

‘Do you think only cavalieri should be educated then?' teased Cesare. ‘I have the money to pay my fees and lodging – remember the silver Georgia gave me? – and my father thought I could do with having some of the rough edges knocked off me.'

‘Of course,' said Luciano. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . But it's wonderful to see you! I'm just surprised they can spare you from home and the stables.'

‘Well, the race is over for another year,' said Cesare. ‘And I'm not doing a full degree. Just a year, to see how the other half lives.'

‘Me too,' said Luciano. ‘Look – come back home with me. We can have something to eat.'

‘Fine,' said Cesare. ‘I want to hear all you know about our friends,' he lowered his voice, ‘from far away. Have you any news of Georgia and Falco?'

‘He's not Falco any more,' said Luciano. ‘Come back with me and we'll share our news.'

The two friends turned their horses towards the cathedral square.

‘I'm glad to see you're keeping up the riding,' said Cesare.

‘I don't get the chance in Bellezza,' said Luciano. ‘And I was pretty sore after the ride here but Cara is a docile beast.' He patted his bay mare. ‘Who's that you're riding? I don't recognise her.'

‘No, Fiorella is new – since your time in Remora. She's Arcangelo's daughter.'

‘Is she going to be a racehorse too?' asked Luciano, admiring the elegant lines of the chestnut.

‘Maybe,' said Cesare. ‘I bought her myself and when I get back home I'll train her up for the Stellata and see what she can do.'

His friend was used to the Remoran's modesty. He was the best rider Luciano had ever known and as good a judge of a racehorse as many much older men in Talia. If Cesare thought Fiorella had a chance of competing in the Stellata race, she was probably a future winner.

‘It's so good to see you again,' he said, giving the older boy another hug when they dismounted at Silvia's house. Luciano kept a groom but Cesare insisted on looking after his own mare and settling her with food and drink before going in to dine with Luciano.

‘How do you like it in Padavia?' asked Luciano, as they ate Alfredo's rich bean soup.

‘Well enough,' said Cesare. ‘But I'm sharing a house with four other students. We pay a woman to cook for us but she's not as good as Alfredo.'

Luciano felt guilty about having a whole house to himself and several servants but he thrust the thought down. He had never expected to be rich in his old world and it was a bit awkward finding that he was quite wealthy in Bellezza and had to keep up the way of life of a future duke. Cesare lived in Remora with his father, the Horsemaster of the Ram, who was also a Stravagante, and a large family of young half-siblings. He wondered how long the silver that Georgia had given Cesare after she had won the Stellata would last.

‘How is Georgia?' asked Cesare, echoing his thoughts. ‘Have you heard anything about your old world lately?'

‘Well,' said Luciano. ‘I
hadn't
had any news for some time but a new Stravagante has just arrived in Padavia. He goes to the same school as Georgia and Falco – though he's called Nick in their world. This one's called Matt, Matteo.

‘But that's fantastic,' said Cesare, his broad, friendly face shining with pleasure. ‘Can I meet him? He could tell us all about Georgia and take her a message!'

‘He has met her, and Nick too,' admitted Luciano. ‘But they weren't friends until Matt found his talisman. Now they've realised that he's a Stravagante like them.'

‘And who is his Stravagante here in the city?' asked Cesare, quick to understand.

‘It's Professor Constantin,' said Luciano, looking round him and lowering his voice, even though there was no one to overhear him. ‘You know, the Rhetoric Professor. But keep that to yourself. Even in an independent city like Padavia it's best we don't speak about it publicly. The di Chimici are still on the warpath.'

Matt didn't see Ayesha till lunchtime. He got to the cafeteria late and there she was, sitting at their usual table. The smile she gave him when he put his tray down was just as radiant as usual but he thought her eyes looked tired, as if she had had no more sleep than him.

‘Finally,' he said, as if he'd been looking for her all morning, instead of trying to avoid her. ‘I got your text.'

‘Good,' she said. ‘Can we talk now?'

But just then a bunch of other sixth formers sat down at the table; Barnsbury's cafeteria wasn't exactly the best place for a heart to heart.

Matt smiled ruefully. ‘Look,' he said. ‘I'm sorry about yesterday. I've got some . . . well, some stuff going on.'

‘With people in the year above?'

‘Yeah. It's sort of to do with going to university,' he improvised. ‘Getting advice and all that.'

‘But that's great,' said Ayesha. ‘There's no need to feel shy about it.' She didn't say anything about the fact that Sky was going to art college and Georgia and Alice were applying to read English and that these were unlikely subjects for Matt to be interested in. She was just glad that he was talking to her. And looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She squeezed his hand.