More cheers.
“So even though I stand with my plan to discontinue the Palio, the great portrait of Giuliana will bring fame to Siena on the level it once had when she hung there, a treasure, like the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Whether I become your mayor or not, it is my pleasure to be a citizen of this great city and to do all in my power to continue to make it greater still. Thank you. Good day.” Smiling and waving he stepped down into the crowd of people, who shook his hand, slapped him on the back, and hugged him.
For several minutes, Cassandra couldn’t move, both because she was surrounded by the mob and because she was too stunned. She saw Jake and Lauro pushing their way toward her. The mayor stood talking to her advisors. Finally the two men reached Cassandra.
“Jake! What is this about? How could he know what we were doing? We haven’t published anything or released information to the public yet, other than the little you and Lauro revealed just now.”
“Someone told him, obviously. Or someone was talking about it, and one of his people overheard.”
“Maybe it was a member of the team, or even Carver.”
“He’s very cautious about that kind of thing. But maybe Suhan or Yoshi, those who were here the whole time we were gone.”
“Or James.”
“I never thought what we did would be perceived negatively, though. Especially since we saved Francesco and the painting.”
“The painting—it seems almost coincidental that he found it just as we returned from our journey.”
“And the dreams. What about the dreams?”
“I don’t trust that man,” said Lauro.
They all looked toward Franco who was receiving his congratulations with gusto.
“He’s not like Francesco,” Lauro continued. “Something went wrong in that family somewhere along the way.”
“Even Francesco was a little unstable, you have to admit,” offered Cassandra. “He must have had sisters and brothers, yes? I don’t think he produced any offspring himself.”
“Oh yes, he had a large family. The Marinos have always been well-respected in Siena, though I will admit they were a little strange. Some of his sisters went into the convent, and his older brothers married, though they were all wild. And drank. A lot. His mother died when he was young. As I recall, there were rumors she killed herself.”
“How awful,” Cassandra said.
“This does not bode well for the mayor,” Jake said, looking toward the stage. “But I’m sure she’s as happy as anyone that the painting has been recovered. I’m dying to see it now.” He turned back to Cassandra. “Yet those dreams, Cassie. Something’s not right about that.”
“And do you remember? I told you, when you were in the hospital, the painting was hanging in the Louvre. Carver said it was. Why would we have thought that if it wasn’t true? Yet nothing supports that now. Nothing on the net, no archival records, certainly not the Louvre’s records.”
“You explained to me about the painting in the French museum that day I went outside for the first time,” Lauro added, “when we were together in the café.”
“Yes,” said Cassandra, “and the curator, the director, and guards dreamed of it again when we did.”
“Many more people since then,” Jake agreed. “But some just pass it off as a recurrence of the original shared dream. The situation is too confusing for anyone to really get a grasp on.”
“Well, we better do just that because something is not right here.”
Chapter Six
The time-travelers and their Renaissance man were given seats of honor in the mayor’s box for the Palio. Just as for the ancient games, bleachers were set up all around the Campo, leaning up against the houses and buildings. The mayor’s special box was in front of the Palazzo Pubblico. The difference between then and now was now there was standing room in the center of the Campo and dirt had been laid in a track around the periphery. People were wedged into every window and balcony around the square, sitting on rooftops and terraces. The whole town seemed to be in attendance, as well as thousands of tourists who’d come just for the event.
Giulia Brogi’s poll numbers had slipped considerably since Marino’s announcement about the painting. The election was a month off. Marino had been using the media to talk up the painting, though apparently no one but he and his closest advisors had seen it yet. He seemed to be using his new popularity to drive home his message about the Palio. He had declared he wouldn’t go that year. “I will not be a party to the barbarism!” was a quote of his that had grabbed everyone’s attention. Perhaps it was to be the last Palio Siena would ever see. However, it hadn’t seemed to dampen the people’s usual enthusiasm for the event.
Cassandra waited for the pageant to begin, restless. She thought about what Lauro had said about their conversation in the café. Was it possible someone had overheard something then and passed it on to Franco Marino? What else did they say, and who’d been listening? Then she remembered how intent the waiter had seemed on their conversation.
“Here come the comparse!” Giulia cried. She turned to explain to Jake and Cassandra. “These are the men who represent their contrade.”
“Why are they wearing the clothing of my era when this tradition didn’t begin until almost two hundred years later?” Lauro wanted to know.
“It’s to honor the medieval history of our town.”
“It makes me feel as if I’m home.” He clutched Cassandra’s hand.
The first faction of the parade were the representatives of the city of Siena: a single flag bearer on horseback carrying a black and white standard, who nodded as he passed the mayor’s seat, followed by his groom, a band of drummers, trumpeters and musicians, then several other dignitaries, and finally a group of flag bearers with the banners of the old Senese Republic, all of whom acknowledged Giulia with a nod or salute.
Next, the contrade entered the parade, with a drummer for each, two standard bearers, two grooms, pages carrying their contrada’s emblem, the race horse, jockey, and groom. The flags snapped in the breeze. Toward the front of the group was the double-headed Eagle on the yellow, blue, and black standard of the Aquila. Cassandra, Lauro, and Jake stamped and cheered for it. Next came the crowned swimming dolphin in the white and blue colors of the Onda, which Giulia favored. The red, blue, and white flag with the rampaging Panther was next, then the Owl, the Giraffe, the Tortoise, the Dragon, the She-wolf, the Unicorn, and the Porcupine.
“Why are there only ten?” Cassandra asked the mayor.
“Seven compete by turn and three are drawn by lots,” Giulia answered. “But those that do not participate still march. You’ll see, they come next, but will have no horses.”
The audience went wild to see the colors of their contrade pass, and tears stood in Lauro’s eyes as he yelled and cheered with them. The crowd went wilder still when a great chariot, drawn by two oxen, entered the parade carrying four waving passengers, a troop of trumpeters, and a flame bearer.
“These are the Provveditori di Biccherna, the superintendents of the Palio. The triumphal flame will go to the winner of the race,” Giulia shouted over the din.
With this the parade ended and most of its participants came to sit in the stands all around the mayor’s box, creating a sea of color: hats, ribbons, capes, doublets, breeches, and hose from the medieval to the Renaissance style.
“The gioco delle bandiere!” exclaimed the mayor.
“Game of flags,” repeated Jake. “I’ve always wanted to see this.”
The flag bearers took the field and began a magnificent performance of throwing their flags into the air and catching them as they fell, twirling and waving them simultaneously. Drums beat, trumpets blared, and the bell on the Mangia tower chimed. Lauro was now screaming with the crowd in a frenzy of pride.
When the flag bearers finished their demonstration, the horses and jockeys lined up to race. The crowd was in a fever pitch; the noise itself could have practically knocked the ancient buildings t
o the ground. Each person chanted the name of their own contrada. Cassandra joined with Lauro and Jake: “Aquila, Aquila, Aquila!” while the mayor screamed for the Onda.
The horses, with their bareback riders, gathered behind a rope on the track. The animals pranced nervously, just barely, it seemed, controlled by their jockeys. The crowd of thousands in the center of the Campo, protected behind a wooden barricade, was delirious, screaming, jumping, waving flags furiously. Suddenly the rope fell and the horses bolted, with the Owl in the lead. In moments, the Tortoise overtook him. Close behind were the horses of the Dragon, the Eagle, and the Unicorn, all even with each other. The animals ran feverishly, like wild creatures. They made one lap around the track, then another. The Unicorn fell back and the Giraffe took its place. The Eagle began to gain on the Tortoise, and the Owl fell back farther. Suddenly the Onda shot ahead and was neck and neck with the Eagle. Lauro howled. Giulia screeched. Jake yelled and pounded his fist in the air. Cassandra laughed and jumped up and down.
The horses were on the third and final lap. One of them careened into a barricade and the She-wolf rider fell. Cassandra clapped her hand over her mouth, but the man appeared to be unharmed. The horse sped on without him, exhilarated, it would seem, to still run with its fellows. The horse of the Giraffe rider crashed into the Porcupine and they both fell, tossing one jockey into the stands. The other was almost trampled by the oncoming animals before he managed to roll out of the way. Cassandra screamed, but both men were unscathed and their horses leapt to their feet and ran on. She inhaled deeply. Suddenly the Onda was in the lead, the Eagle just behind. They both approached the finish. The crowd was out of control. People leapt over the barricade to run the final meters with the winner. It was the Onda. As the rider lifted his arm in victory, he suddenly lurched forward. He fell from his horse, a red stain spreading over his blue and white costume as if he’d been shot. The mayor was instantly on her link, communicating with the police captain. A voice over a loudspeaker urged the crowd to stay calm and not panic but it was too late. The wooden barricade inside the Campo broke and people stampeded over it, trampling each other to get to safety.
All around them, the crowd surged. “Stay still!” Giulia yelled to her friends. “Don’t try to move. Just stay here until we can get some order.” She ducked through a trap door in the box and disappeared.
Cassandra remained frozen, terrified. Lauro grabbed her and held her in his arms.
“Where did she go?” yelled Jake.
“She must have gone under the stands to her office,” Lauro replied.
All around them people pushed and grappled to leave the stands, but the three stood still, huddled together.
In moments, small helicopters were swarming like bees over the skies above the Campo and messages booming in every language informed the people to stay where they were and stay calm. Slowly, the people heard and obeyed. The seething crowd stilled and made way for a helicopter to land on the track. An emergency rescue team rushed out to tend to the fallen rider who remained unmoving, surrounded by onlookers and his teammates. He was loaded onto a stretcher and lifted up into the helicopter that sped away.
The atmosphere of celebration was replaced by one of mute terror. All the windows and balconies were suddenly empty. The people in the stands, around the track, and in the Campo began to file out quickly, but with more order. Police edged through the crowd trying to direct the flow of pedestrians for a faster exodus.
“Should we go?” asked Cassandra.
“Let’s let the crowd thin,” replied Jake. “There’s no point trying to get anywhere right now.”
Cassandra was on her link, accessing the sens-net. Right away she found a broadcast.
“It seems the winner of the Palio in Siena has been shot and killed,” a reporter was saying.
“Dear God,” Cassandra whispered.
“In the ensuing mayhem, several people were trampled. Injuries have been reported, but no additional deaths so far,” the broadcaster continued.
“How could anyone get a hold of a gun?” Jake wondered.
“If you had the right connections….” Cassandra began.
“And if you were rich enough….”
“I thought you said there was no more violence in the world,” Lauro said, still keeping a firm arm around Cassandra’s shoulder, his eyes full of worry.
“Usually not, but there is the occasional exception,” Cassandra said to him.
Jake looked around at the Mangia tower and the buildings surrounding the Campo. “The shooter could still be out there.”
Cassandra felt vulnerable, exposed. All transportation around the city center had been halted early in the day, so once there was enough forward motion out of the Campo for them to make their way back to the villa, the three began to move toward the side streets. All around them, people were linking to the sens-net for updates. Odd that Marino wasn’t jumping on this and using it to his advantage. He had been denouncing the barbarism of the Palio all along. However, Giulia was broadcasting on the net, asking the people to remain calm and to stay indoors until the killer could be caught. There would be no celebrating that evening.
Jake’s link buzzed and he flicked his wrist to answer. “Giulia wants us to come to her office.”
They reversed direction and slowly made their way against the tide of people back to the Palazzo Pubblico, where the guards had instructions to let them in. Just as they were entering the courtyard, somebody on the Campo screamed. As the police rushed to see what was happening, Lauro turned and ran with them.
“No!” cried Cassandra. “Lauro!”
Jake ran after him. Cassandra jumped up onto a riser. Someone else was bleeding on the ground. Everyone was running away from them but Jake and Lauro, who ran toward the victim. Another person suddenly fell. Before Cassandra knew it, she was running too. She caught Jake by the arm, but Lauro was already at the side of the first victim.
“He’s shooting again,” shouted Jake. “We’ve got to get these people to safety.” He wrenched away from her and ran on.
Lauro lifted the fallen woman in his arms and hurried back toward the Palazzo Pubblico. Jake tried to lift a young man but couldn’t do it because his wound was still healing. Another man ran to help him, and together they carried the victim toward the bleachers.
Cassandra motioned people to take cover. “Get underneath,” she called to whoever would listen. “Get under the stands.”
Lauro, Jake, and his helper hurried the injured people to the Palazzo Pubblico, where Giulia rushed from her office to meet them, frantically calling for medical assistance.
A helicopter landed in the middle of the Campo and Marino stepped out. He moved away from the vehicle, and in an amplified voice called, “Stop! Whoever you are, I order you to stop.”
“What is he doing?” Giulia yelled over the mayhem. “He has no authority.”
Was he trying to be the hero? Trying to prove his bravery?
“Stop!” cried Marino again, raising his arms in the air. “Enough.” Then he fell, clutching his arm. The shooter had fired again with his silent weapon.
Cassandra and Giulia screamed simultaneously.
“He’s there,” Marino yelled as he knelt on the ground, pointing to the top of one of the buildings surrounding the Campo.
Giulia was on her link and in moments, helicopters swarmed the building from above while police ran inside it from the ground. Bodyguards poured out of Marino’s helicopter and were assisting him. Giulia ran toward him and Cassandra followed.
“Franco, what are you doing?” Giulia called to him.
“Trying to get him to stop.”
“No, this is not the way. Let the police handle it.”
“But….” He clutched his arm and groaned.
A stretcher came and lifted him away into a helicopter. Others had landed and emergency workers were taking away the wounded people.
“I just got word they caught the shooter. He was in the hotel where Marino said
he was. Come on!” Giulia called to Lauro, Jake, and Cassandra. “Let’s get to my office.”
With police clearing the way for them, they made it into Giulia’s office.
Reports were coming in from police factions all over the city. Only the winner of the Palio had been killed, the others only wounded. No other violence or accidents were reported, but police were urging all citizens to stay indoors.
Lauro was staring at the mural of San Gimignano. He was pale. “Sit down, Lauro,” Cassandra said, going to him. “You’re traumatized.”
“I want to go home,” he said quietly.
“I’ll call for a helicopter to get you back to your villa,” Giulia said, and went to place the call.
“No,” Lauro said quietly to Cassandra. “I want to go home. I don’t comprehend this time and place. Where I come from may be more violent, but at least I understood it, and knew what to do.”
Cassandra knew the Siena portal lab had been dismantled, and Suhan was waiting for word about where to reassemble it.
“All right,” she said to him, the pang of impending loss sharp. “I’ll let Professor Carver know. I’m sure he will approve getting the lab set up in San Gimignano. It will only be a few weeks more. Then we can send you home.”
“Signorina Brogi, if it’s all right, I’ll walk back to the villa,” Lauro said to her. “I don’t want to get into one of those flying machines.”
“I’ll go with him, Giulia,” Cassandra said. “We should be fine now.”
“Cancel the helicopter,” Jake said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here with you until you’re ready to leave,” he told Giulia. “I’ll help you in any way I can.”
When Lauro and Cassandra got back to Villa Girasole, it was well after dark. Rosa met them at the door, declaring her relief that everyone was all right. She fed them, and then went to bed. Lauro and Cassandra went to the roof. They looked out over the city. Lauro unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off and tossed it down. He began to unbutton his trousers.
The Time Contessa (The Time Mistress Book 3) Page 22
