City of Stars

by Mary Hoffman

  The Duchessa patted Arcangelo a bit nervously and stroked Starlight’s nose. But she stood for a long time admiring Merla.

  ‘I would not have believed it,’ she said to Gaetano. ‘Until a week or so ago horses were something I had seen only in paintings and engravings. And now here is a creature of myth, such as are found only on fragments of ancient pottery or in old mosaics.’

  ‘And here it is in reality,’ said Gaetano. ‘This too my family stole from the Ram as well as their jockey.’

  Arianna placed her hand affectionately on his arm – a gesture not lost on several guests at the top table.

  ‘I have never held you accountable for the deeds of your family,’ she said.

  ‘You have others to congratulate besides the horses,’ said Rodolfo, leading her back to the feast.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Arianna, suddenly vivacious again. She came over to Georgia and held both her hands. Projecting her clear musical voice across the square she said firmly, ‘I congratulate the Ram and its fine jockey, Giorgio Gredi,’ not stumbling over the name. ‘You have upheld the honour of my city tonight and Bellezza thanks you. As a small token of my gratitude I give Giorgio a bag of silver and this kiss.’

  Startled, Georgia felt her lips brushed by the Duchessa’s and saw the violet eyes fixed briefly on her before Arianna handed her a velvet bag heavy with coins. She stammered her thanks as the Rams all hollered with appreciation, banging the tables and stamping their feet. This was their idea of good entertainment.

  Georgia sat down confused as the Duchessa calmly accepted a goblet of wine poured for her by Paolo. Arianna must know she couldn’t take the silver back when she stravagated home. She decided to give it to Cesare, just as soon as he could stop eating; he was making up for lost time.

  Luciano was eaten up with jealousy. Arianna had not given him one glance or smile and yet he felt that everything she did was directed at him. And what she was doing now was flirting with Gaetano. And yet what had Luciano done to make her angry with him? He remembered Georgia’s kiss but surely that had meant nothing? She had kissed Cesare too and half the population of the Ram; it was what Remorans did after a great victory. In fact Luciano himself had received a number of embraces from girls of the Twelfth whom he had never seen before.

  There was an air of recklessness and abandon in the Twelfth of the Ram that night. The Stellata had been wrested from the di Chimici and returned to the Ram after a quarter of a century. Who knew when they might win it again? Many babies were born in the Twelfth the following May as a result of the licence of that night of celebrations and many of the boys were called Giorgio or Cesare, the girls Stella or Merla.

  Gaetano was not immune to the atmosphere or to the attention Arianna was giving him. He drank more wine than he should have done to give himself courage for what he had to do. He had almost talked himself into it, thinking tonight, as he had often thought before, that it would be no hardship to be husband to the beautiful ruler of Bellezza.

  His musings were interrupted by a sudden shout.

  ‘Look!’ cried Cesare. ‘The Manoush have come!’

  Aurelio and Raffaella had entered the square quietly and were standing talking to Merla; she appeared to listen to them and understand. Slowly the square filled with other colourfully dressed members of their tribe and, when Paolo went to speak to them and offer the Ram’s hospitality, they set up their instruments and gave an impromptu concert. The Ram’s drummer joined in, soon picking up the intricate rhythms and even the heralds tried to play along on their trumpets.

  Most Twelvers were so pleasantly befuddled with wine, lack of sleep and happiness that they were not about to judge the music harshly. But after a pause, Aurelio played something on his own. It was sweet and sad and it made Gaetano think of his brother and then of his cousin, the girl he must soon give up for ever.

  ‘It is an air to break your heart, is it not, Principe?’ said a woman he had not noticed before. Now he saw that she was very handsome, dressed in the colours of the Ram. For a moment, she reminded him of the Duchessa, but then he realised that she was much older. Still, she had a look of Arianna; perhaps she was a visiting aunt? He seemed to remember that an aunt of the Duchessa’s was married to Doctor Dethridge.

  ‘It is very moving, ma’am,’ he said politely.

  ‘It seems to tell of love lost and duty triumphant,’ she continued. ‘Of wrong choices made and a life of sacrifice, lived with the consequences of those choices.’

  Gaetano was seriously startled; was this woman a clairvoyant, or perhaps another Stravagante?

  ‘You can read so much into a simple air?’ he asked.

  ‘There is nothing simple about the music of the Manoush,’ she said.

  He turned to look at the harpist and when the melody ended and he looked back, the woman had gone. There was a pause, while the notes of the lament faded into the night. And then another, merrier tune began and the tables were pushed back for dancing.

  Gaetano danced with Arianna and saw out of the corner of his eye that her father was dancing with the mysterious woman.

  ‘Who is that with the Regent?’ he asked her. ‘She has just said some extraordinary things to me. I think she is some kind of enchantress.’

  Arianna laughed. ‘You are not the first to say that,’ she said. But she didn’t answer his question.

  Luciano and Cesare were in a dilemma. They both wanted to dance with Georgia, but as far as the Rams were concerned, their jockey was a boy. Remorans were indiscriminately affectionate and no one thought it odd for young men to embrace or even kiss one another, particularly during a great feast. But they did not dance as couples.

  The three friends found themselves all caught up with pretty and willing female Twelvers. Arianna looked daggers at Luciano, whose current partner was a lively black-haired girl, and Georgia cast desperate glances at Paolo. But he was dancing happily with Teresa.

  It was William Dethridge who rescued her. When the music changed he got all the young men, including Georgia, to dance in a circle, while the women clapped and beat time. Georgia found herself just where she wanted to be, between Luciano and Cesare, with everyone singing the hymn of the Twelfth lustily at the tops of their voices.

  Gaetano was on Luciano’s other side and both young men wished that the dancing would go on for ever and the next day never come. They both knew that by the morning something would be resolved about their future. But for now all they wanted to do was dance and drink and sing.

  *

  Enrico was the only person in Remora, apart from loyal Rams, who had made any money on the race. He still had a healthy proportion of the silver that the Duke and the Pope had given him to lay out on pacts with other Twelfths, and the betting had brought him more. Now he was wondering whether to leave the city. He wasn’t at all sure where he would go; he liked Remora and being around horses but he didn’t think it would be wise to stay on. He had committed horse-theft, kidnapping and imprisonment and, once this was known in the Ram, he would be in danger.

  And it had all been for nothing; the di Chimici had lost the race and Bellezza’s stock was higher than ever. News of the victory would soon spread throughout Talia, encouraging other cities to resist alliances and usurpations. The Duke was crazy with grief now but one day he would come to his senses and then he might remember that his spy had failed him.

  On the other hand, the Duke was the most important person Enrico had ever worked for and he was loath to give him up; perhaps he could persuade his employer that he could be useful to him in some other way?

  For now, he had to face the Rams, because he owed them money. Enrico was a scoundrel, but he was also deeply superstitious; he had stolen their luck but he would not try to rob them of their winnings.

  *

  The party in the Ram began to break up as the Manoush gathered to salute the dawn in their usual way. Georgia sat on the steps outside the church, yawning, suddenly dog-tired. She saw Rodolfo and Gaetano escorting Arianna from the sq
uare. They stopped by the fountain and Rodolfo turned back to talk to Silvia. Georgia watched the young couple leave together and saw Luciano looking after them with an expression of sheer despair.

  Paolo came over to Georgia. ‘You look exhausted,’ he said. ‘Do you want to come back to the stables?’

  All over the square, overturned chairs and tattered flags lay among spilt wine and fragments of food. Dogs scavenged among the leftovers and men with long-handled snuffers extinguished the last of the torches. Suddenly a scuffle broke out and Georgia saw that Cesare was hanging on to a man in a blue cloak. She and Paolo and a few other young Rams rushed over to help him.

  ‘This is the man who kidnapped me!’ said Cesare. ‘And he probably stole Merla too, yet he dares to set foot in the Ram!’

  Enrico looked scared but he stood his ground. ‘Only acting on orders,’ he said. ‘Don’t tell me worse things haven’t happened in the Stellata before. And I’ve come to pay the Twelvers who bet on the Ram.’

  A few of the young men who were holding on to him relaxed their grip. This was the first time they had thought about their winnings but now it seemed like a good idea. But they weren’t going to let Enrico get off lightly. They turned out all his pockets and emptied his bag. The spy took it all without protest; his main stash of silver was safe up at Santa Fina. Cesare was disgusted at all the different coloured scarves in Enrico’s bag and confiscated the whole thing.

  So in the end, Enrico left the square unscathed.

  *

  ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ said Gaetano, guiding the Duchessa back to the Papal palace through the narrow streets.

  ‘Morning, you mean,’ said Arianna, picking her way over the cobbles in her red silk slippers.

  All of a sudden, he decided he had to get it over with.

  ‘Your Grace,’ he said, stopping her underneath one of the smoking torches. ‘Arianna, this might not be the right time or place, but you will be going back to Bellezza soon and I can’t wait any longer. We have spent nearly a month together and we know each other quite well now. I want to know what you think of our offer. Will you marry me?’

  ‘There,’ said Arianna. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it? Not elegant, not romantic, but it did the job.’

  *

  Georgia made her way back to the stables hanging on to Cesare and Paolo. The Montalbani didn’t think it right that their triumphant jockey should sleep in the hayloft, but that was what Georgia wanted. Cesare hung Enrico’s bag of neckcloths on a post in the stables and gave her a final hug before stumbling into the house to sleep. Paolo embraced her too.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘You have the courage of a warrior. You will prevail over your stepbrother.’

  And then he was gone. Luciano and Dethridge had disappeared off somewhere together and Georgia had no idea where Rodolfo and Silvia were sleeping, except that it was probably in the same place. She lay down in the straw, hearing Arcangelo and Merla and Starlight and the other horses of the Ram moving beneath her. Even Dondola was back, ridden down to Remora by Roderigo, who had collected her from the Casa di Chimici and ridden her down in time to join in the Ram’s celebrations.

  Georgia’s mind was a kaleidoscope of swirling colours and shapes – the procession, the flags, the horses, the noises, the sight of Merla hovering above the Campo, the bright ribbons of the Manoush, the kisses, the music, the wine, the . . .

  *

  Gaetano burst into the hospital. The Duke had fallen into a deep sleep in his chair by Falco’s bed, but Francesca was still awake. The room smelled of burnt-out candles. Gaetano paused to see that Falco’s chest still rose and fell, even though very lightly. Then he took Francesca’s hands in his and led her from the room.

  Out in the corridor where the morning light streamed on to the pictures painted on the walls of patients being bled or leeched or springing up miraculously cured, he fell on his knees on the cold tiles and asked her to marry him.

  And Francesca said yes.

  Georgia woke to find herself in Falco’s room with the door closed but not bolted. There was no sign of him but there was a scrap of paper on the pillow beside her, containing the single word: ‘Discovered!’ It was evening and the house seemed deserted. She peeled herself off the floor and went downstairs and let herself out. She had to go home and face the music. She was consoled by the thought that, whatever she had to go through now, it had been worth it.

  Chapter 24

  Nets of Gold

  When Georgia entered the living room of her own house, it took her a few seconds to adjust. She was deadly tired and the people she had just left behind in the Ram were more real to her than her own family. She focused on Falco, who was in some ways the most familiar person there.

  While the others all stared at her, she mouthed at him, ‘I won!’ and had time to register his surprise and delight before the storm broke. Maura and Ralph were there and Russell and the Mulhollands and a man and a woman who Georgia gradually realised were police officers. These last two didn’t stay; as far as they were concerned, a missing person inquiry had just ended happily and they had crimes to investigate.

  As soon as they left, Ralph went to the kitchen to make coffee, dragging a protesting Russell with him. He wanted to stay and see the fireworks but his father was firm.

  The row raged on for what seemed like hours. The same questions were asked over and over again: Where had Georgia been? Who had she been with? What had she been doing? What did Nicholas know about it?

  But they made no headway. What could she say? That she had been riding a horse race in another world and had won and feasted and danced the night away, kissed by nobles and commoners? That she had seen a winged horse? That she had foiled a political coup? That she had been with the Mulhollands’ son? That ‘Nicholas’ was an aristocrat, hundreds of years old, from another dimension? That she was a hero called Giorgio?

  Whatever Maura and Ralph had thought before, they would have been sure she was on drugs now if she had given any of these answers. She clung doggedly to a few simple ideas.

  ‘I can’t tell you. It was nothing wrong. I was keeping a promise. Nicholas knows nothing.’ (For this last she had to keep her fingers crossed but it was Falco who knew where she had been, not Nicholas.)

  ‘I bet that old perve in the junk shop knows something about it,’ said Russell helpfully, and the inquisition intensified.

  Fortunately David Mulholland turned out to know Mortimer Goldsmith and he scotched the idea that there was anything sinister about the old man.

  ‘It has nothing to do with Mr Goldsmith,’ said Georgia dully. ‘Can I go to bed now? I’m very tired.’

  ‘But you can’t stay out all night and most of the next day and expect us just to let you get away with it!’ fumed Maura. ‘I have been worried sick about you. I never want to live through another day like today.’ And she burst into tears.

  Georgia felt terrible. It shouldn’t all end like this, the glory and the triumph. She couldn’t bear to see her mother cry and the anxious faces of the others, apart from Russell who was gloating and Falco, who had known where she was in both worlds.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ she said. ‘It was just something I had to do. Not illegal, or dangerous (she crossed her fingers again) or stupid. But I can’t tell you about it, ever. You’ll just have to trust me. I told you I would be at the Mulhollands’ so that you wouldn’t be worried. But what I had to do took longer than I thought – that’s all. It will never happen again, I promise. Now you can ground me or punish me in whatever way you want, but I must go to bed – I haven’t slept since I can’t remember when.’

  ‘Leave it now, Maura,’ said Ralph. ‘Let her rest. We’ll talk about it again tomorrow.’

  ‘What do you mean, engaged?’ said the Duke blearily, when Gaetano and Francesca came back into the room holding hands and told him their news. ‘What about the Duchessa?’

  ‘I asked her, Father,’ said Gaetano, who had explained everything to his cousin. ‘I did
what you told me, but she refused. She said that she would always be my friend but that her heart belonged to another. Then she told me to go and find Francesca.’

  ‘And I am free to accept him, Uncle,’ said Francesca. ‘The marriage with the Bellezzan has been annulled.’

  Duke Niccolò stared at them. Everything had gone wrong with his plans. But he saw that the two young people were in love and already his brain was clicking with new schemes. Gaetano would not have Bellezza but he could inherit the title of Fortezza when old cousin Jacopo died, since Jacopo only had daughters. And those daughters could be married off to Niccolò’s other sons or nephews, to keep them happy and make sure they didn’t have title-less husbands to threaten Gaetano’s claim.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘You have my blessing. Now go and tell your news at the palace. I shall stay here with Falco.’

  *

  Arianna had a visitor at the Papal palace; she had not been able to sleep and was already changed into her day dress when a servant showed her mother into her apartment.

  ‘Signora Bellini,’ he announced and withdrew.

  ‘Silvia,’ said Arianna when he had gone. She never called her Mother, because that name was reserved for the aunt who had brought her up in obscurity on a lagoon island while Silvia Bellini had ruled Bellezza and kept the di Chimici at bay.

  ‘Good morning, my dear,’ said Silvia, removing her veil.

  ‘I suppose I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is, coming here?’ said Arianna.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Silvia. ‘No one here has ever seen my face except you and your father.’