by Mary Hoffman
Laura immediately started to worry.
To distract her, Georgia said, ‘Fabrizio is more interested in making an example of Enrico.’
‘The Eel?’ said Sky, remembering Enrico’s reputation in Giglia even before the duel.
‘I don’t fancy his chances of seeing many more sunrises,’ said Nick.
‘But what did he do?’ asked Laura, distracted in spite of herself by the thought of another human being facing certain death. It didn’t seem to matter that it was more than four centuries in the past. After all, she could be there to witness it tomorrow.
‘He killed my father,’ said Nick.
‘But …’
‘Oh, it was Luciano who dealt the blow. But it was a small wound. It was the poison on the blade that killed him. Enrico had switched the foils.’
‘So, hang on,’ said Laura. ‘Your father meant to poison Luciano as well as wound him?’
‘Yes,’ said Nick. ‘My family is not well known for playing fair.’
That brought Laura back to Ludo’s plight.
‘When do you think Ludo and Gaetano will leave?’ she asked.
‘The day after tomorrow,’ said Nick. ‘Early. I mean, early in the night, if you are planning to stravagate.’
‘I must, mustn’t I?’ said Laura. ‘Once they’ve left Fortezza I won’t be able to follow them. I’ll have one more good sleep and then I’ll go on Saturday.’
They nodded. Georgia was just relieved that at last Nick had accepted it was Enrico who had killed Duke Niccolò; it had not been so long since he had believed it had been his own fault that his father had died.
The victory banquet in Fortezza was lacking in many things but not in the finest wine. Princess Lucia had opened her father’s cellars to provide the best that the castle could offer. And whatever the dinner lacked in good fare, it was all served on the best of the family’s silver plate, bearing their crest of the sword and lily.
The Grand Duke sat on Lucia’s right and had insisted that Filippo of Bellona should sit on her left. Lucia would have preferred Guido or Gaetano as dinnercompanions, but they were down at the other end of the long candlelit table beside her mother.
Fabrizio, completely elated by the relative ease of this victory after his humiliation in Classe, drank too much of his late uncle’s good wine, and Lucia was a good host, making sure her guests’ goblets were kept fully charged.
Under the influence of the wine and encouraged by some grotesque winking from his cousin on Lucia’s other side, Filippo became sentimental.
‘I am so happy to see you in your rightful place at the head of your table,’ he said, drinking again to Lucia’s health.
‘It has been a difficult time since my father’s death,’ said Lucia. ‘I too am happy that the situation has been resolved. But there will be much work to do in the city, to repair the damage caused by …’
‘By us!’ finished Filippo triumphantly, who had not been near a gun or in any danger throughout the siege.
‘By the civil war, I was going to say,’ continued Lucia. ‘I cannot blame my cousin’s army when he was fighting in my defence.’
‘True, true,’ said Filippo. He was thinking what a very attractive young woman his cousin was. Her red hair shone in the candlelight, which picked out the di Chimici emeralds Carolina had insisted her daughter should wear on this occasion.
‘When will you have your coronation?’ he asked.
‘I had not thought so far,’ said Lucia. ‘As I said, there is so much to be done to help the city return to its normal peaceful and prosperous state.’
‘Quite so,’ said Fabrizio, who had been listening to them. ‘But what could be more helpful in that aim than giving the people a Royal Celebration? My coffers are open to you, for whatever you need to repair the city. And I agree with Filippo that the sooner you are crowned, the sooner the city of Fortezza can begin its new life.’
Filippo, who had said nothing about it, nodded prudently. He was still in Fabrizio’s good books and emboldened to go further.
‘There is one thing more that would bring heart to the citizens and replace their sorrow with rejoicing,’ he said, rather pleased with this turn of phrase.
Fabrizio was looking at him encouragingly.
‘What is that?’ asked Lucia, quite unaware of what her cousins had been discussing behind her back.
‘While I cannot condone in any way the rebellion of some of your citizens,’ Filippo said, taking another gulp of wine for courage, ‘I think there will always be a danger when a di Chimici woman rules alone.’
Lucia braced herself as she suddenly understood what was coming.
‘I think we have effectively overcome that objection,’ she said.
‘But how?’ asked Filippo, beginning to slur his words. ‘By your male cousins forming an army to rescue you.’
Lucia remained silent.
‘Would it not be a wise plan for you to share the burden of rule with a companion?’ he asked.
‘I have indeed considered it,’ said Lucia.
This was going better that Filippo could possibly have imagined. Emboldened by her encouragement, he swallowed and took the plunge.
‘I am glad to hear it, cousin,’ he said, ‘for it seems to me that it might be a splendid idea to unite two branches of our family in one. To cement a union between Bellona and Fortezza.’
‘Are you proposing marriage to me, cousin?’ Lucia asked. Her voice was steady.
Filippo looked a bit abashed but nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, if you will have me, dear Lucia,’ he said, bestowing on her what he hoped was a winning smile.
‘And he has my approval as head of the family,’ said Fabrizio.
‘I thank you both,’ said Lucia, ‘for your concern in my fortunes and my future. But I have a few questions to ask.’
Fabrizio smiled benignly on Lucia and Filippo. How much more tractable was his cousin than his sister! But he banished the thought of Beatrice, which was like thistles inside a boot to him.
‘Please ask anything of me,’ said Filippo. ‘My heart and hands are at your disposal.’
‘Firstly, what will happen when in the course of time you lose your father as I so recently lost mine?’
Fabrizio and Filippo had talked about this.
‘Long may that day be in the future,’ said Filippo. ‘But until then I will be Prince Consort of Fortezza. When my father at last goes to his maker, we can install a representative in Fortezza and you will of course come to live with me in Bellona as my Princess.’
‘So I would give up the status of ruler in my own right for that of consort?’ asked Lucia.
‘You would still rule Fortezza, of course,’ said Filippo. ‘But a husband and wife cannot live and rule in different cities, I’m sure you will agree.’
‘I do agree,’ said Lucia. ‘Thank you for answering my question. My second concerns the state of your affections. Was it not only a matter of months ago that you were paying court to my cousin Beatrice?’
Fabrizio intervened to save Filippo’s blushes.
‘Again with my approval, cousin,’ he said. ‘Filippo has done nothing to be ashamed of. You must not act like a jealous girl. In families such as ours marriages are made for dynastic reasons, not love.’
‘Thank you for explaining that Filippo would marry me, as he would have married Beatrice, without love,’ said Lucia.
Filippo realised that perhaps this was not going as well as he had thought.
‘But my cousin Beatrice chose to marry for love,’ said Lucia.
‘Do not mention her,’ said Fabrizio. ‘She is no longer a member of my family.’
‘But she is of mine,’ said Lucia. ‘I do not believe the blood in her body has changed, and it comes from the same line as mine. In fact I admire her for making her own choice of husband.’
‘Filippo Nucci!’ snorted the Grand Duke. ‘Our family’s mortal enemy and an assassin. A very fine choice!’
‘As I remember he was a friend t
o our family in our childhood,’ said Lucia. ‘And as for what happened on that terrible day of my first marriage, it was not Filippo who cut down my husband, but his brother Camillo.’
Fabrizio was mollified by Lucia’s reference to her ‘first’ marriage. Was this a good omen?
‘I am sorry, my dear, to have brought back such hideous memories,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘Let us forget about the Nucci traitors and think of a better future for you. You know I regard you as my sister – especially now that I no longer have another one. You were married to my brother Carlo for no more than an hour when he was taken from you and I would like to see you married again.’
‘I should like to be married again,’ said Lucia. ‘And in spite of the recent sorrow over my father, I think this would be a good occasion on which to announce my intentions. You are right that it would comfort the people of Fortezza to have a wedding to look forward to along with the coronation.’
Filippo and Fabrizio looked at each other in bewildered delight.
Lucia rose from her chair and the herald at her shoulder blew a clear note on his silver trumpet. The assembled diners got to their feet too.
‘Your Grace, Your Royal Highnesses, dear friends and family, citizens of Fortezza,’ said Lucia, ‘we are gathered tonight to celebrate the passing on of my father’s crown to me as his heir – the Princess of Fortezza. And the great victory over rebellion that brought this outcome to pass.’
There was loud cheering. The Princess led them in toasts to Prince Jacopo, the Grand Duke, the Generals and the army. And to the city of Fortezza that was so dear to them all.
‘But circumstances cause me to choose this joyous occasion for another announcement, which I hope will be a cause of further rejoicing,’ said Lucia. ‘My cousin Grand Duke Fabrizio, whose late brother was my husband so briefly, has encouraged me to marry for a second time and I have listened to his advice.’
Filippo could not believe his luck; he was going to marry a di Chimici princess! And a very lovely one, he thought, more beautiful than pale, quiet Beatrice.
‘So I should like to announce that on the day of my coronation, at a date yet to be decided, but soon, I shall marry a noble gentleman of Bellezza who has become very dear to me, Signor Guido Parola, and he shall be my Prince Consort.’
*
Laura arrived in Fabio’s workshop out of breath, as if she had run all the way from the other world. In fact she had gone to bed early at Isabel’s to be sure of catching Ludo before he left. Beyond that, she had no plan. She was banking on Fabio to get her into whatever dungeon Ludo was being held in.
But it was early in the morning and the Stravaganti were still asleep. Or at least they were not in the shop.
Laura wandered round it, touching blades and pommels and crosspieces of swords made and ready for their violent purpose. There was a short sword like the one that had inflicted the wound on her right arm. She wondered briefly what would happen to the guard who had inflicted it. He had only been doing his job.
Obeying orders, thought Laura. The defence she had read over and again in her history books.
But when would the day come when soldiers would throw down their weapons and disobey orders that meant killing innocent people? It didn’t seem to be happening in the world she had left.
‘You are here,’ said a voice from the stairs. ‘How is your arm?’
‘Much better, thank you, Fabio,’ she said. ‘But how did you know I was here?’
‘Stravaganti are always aware of others nearby,’ said Fabio. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
Laura concentrated and she sensed without knowing how, that Rodolfo and Luciano were awake and would also soon be joining them.
‘I am glad your arm is better,’ said the swordsmith. ‘You have paid a terrible price for the task you did here.’
‘You really think my task is over?’
‘All I can tell you is that the Manoush surrendered almost as soon as you were injured. And now Lucia di Chimici is Princess of Fortezza.’
‘What Fabio says is true,’ said Rodolfo. He came from the stairs and took Laura’s hands in his. ‘I am so sorry you were hurt. It makes me afraid.’
‘Afraid?’
‘That the stakes in stravagation are getting higher. How long before someone from your world is killed in order to carry out their allotted task in Talia?’
Luciano joined them as if on cue but no one mentioned his death. He had enjoyed another life in Talia, a second chance after the cancer that would have killed him in his old world, even if he hadn’t been imprisoned by Enrico and separated from his talisman.
‘You are very brave, Laura,’ he said.
She thought he was looking pale and tired.
‘I’m not really,’ she said. ‘But I do need to get to the jail or wherever Ludo is. I need to say goodbye before he goes.’
‘You see?’ said Luciano. ‘Some would say it was brave to go into the middle of the di Chimici guards and find the disgraced rebel. But don’t worry. I will go with you and cast a glamour over us both. We shall seem like an ordinary young couple of Fortezzans come to gawp at the captured pretender.’
*
There were cells within the walls at some of the bastions. Enrico was in the one next to the Manoush. In the night Ludo had tried to comfort the spy through the wall. There was a grill at the top for air and their voices had floated uncannily back and forth.
Ludo remembered that Enrico had been one of the rescuers in Padavia the night that thirty of his tribe, men, women and children, had been so close to being burned alive. Now that he had received the lesser punishment of exile, even if he didn’t have much faith in it, he wanted to try to reassure the little man about his own fate.
‘Prince Gaetano will stay the Grand Duke’s hand, I’m sure,’ he had told Enrico.
‘But Gaetano will leave with you in the morning,’ wailed Enrico. ‘And then the Grand Duke can do what he likes.’
‘There are others here that will help you, as they helped me,’ said Ludo, not wanting to say who in case they were overheard by guards.
‘Ah,’ said Enrico. Ludo imagined him tapping the side of his nose and smiled in the dark. ‘You mean Senator Rodolfo and the Cavaliere?’
‘And one other,’ said Ludo. ‘They will do their best.’
It was much harder for him than for Enrico to be confined in a cell. He had still spent less than a dozen nights in his life under a roof and he yearned for the dark sky and the bright stars.
‘Listen,’ he said now. ‘The Fortezzans are firing their cannon harmlessly – to celebrate their victory. Either of us might have died from such a shot in the siege.’
‘At least it would have been quick,’ said Enrico.
There was a long silence and Ludo wondered if the spy had fallen asleep.
‘Are you sorry you did it?’ Enrico asked at last.
‘Sorry I claimed the crown?’
‘Yes.’
‘I am truly sorry about all the people who died,’ said Ludo. ‘I should have accepted the judgment of the Signoria.’
‘So you really are half a di Chimici and old Jacopo’s son?’
‘I wish I had met him – just once,’ said Ludo. ‘Then perhaps all this would not have happened. If he had recognised me as his son, he could have decided the succession.’
‘We’ve all done things we wish we hadn’t,’ said Enrico. ‘And now we have to pay.’
*
Few people were out in the streets of Fortezza in the early dawn but no one took any notice of Laura and Luciano so she supposed his “glamour” had worked. It had not been difficult to find where the prisoners were being held. General Ciampi was there too and other prominent members of the rebellion.
And it seemed as if the two young Stravaganti were not the only ones who had come out early to gloat over the prisoners and the horrible fates that awaited them.
There had been a change of guard outside the cells and the two young soldiers on duty were full
of good humour. It would not be long before they were back home in Giglia and Moresco respectively, eating good food and regaling their girlfriends with tales of their valour.
‘Can we see the traitor?’ Luciano asked.
‘Why, have you got some rotten tomatoes to throw at him?’ said the Giglian guard.
‘Nah, they ran out of tomatoes days ago,’ said the Morescan. ‘If he had any tomatoes, rotten or not, he’d be stuffing his face with them!’
‘All right,’ said the first guard. ‘Second cell along. You haven’t got long. Long enough to spit at him though. Then our prince is going to take him for a little trip.’
The other guard laughed nastily and Laura’s heart sank. Did anyone believe that Ludo would get safely to Romula?
‘Thanks,’ said Luciano, hurrying her away. ‘We’ll do that.’
Then he whispered to Laura, ‘I’m taking the glamour off you.’
They had to pass Enrico’s cell first, but the spy was asleep on a pile of straw. In the next cell Ludo was standing, gazing at a shaft of light from a vent far above him.
‘Laura!’ he gasped when he saw her and came to the bars of the cell.
‘Traitor! Rebel! How do you like your chains?’ shouted Luciano, pulling terrible faces at Ludo so the Manoush could see he was providing cover for him to speak to Laura.
‘It’s Luciano,’ whispered Laura. ‘In disguise.’
Ludo tried to put his arms round her through the bars.
‘Bastard!’ shouted Luciano. ‘Devil! Serves you right, whatever they do to you. Look what’s happened to our city …’
He kept up a high level of abuse and complaint against Ludo all the time they were there.
‘I thought I would never see you alive again,’ said Ludo, pressing his face against the bars so that he and Laura had some contact. ‘Are you all right? Your poor arm!’
‘It’s going to be fine,’ said Laura. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m so worried about you. No one seems to trust Fabrizio’s promise.’
‘I trust Prince Gaetano,’ said Ludo. ‘And you must too. It is enough for me to know that you will be well in your world. And happy, I hope.’
‘How can I be happy without you?’ said Laura bitterly. ‘Wait for me in Romula. I’ll find some way to reach you there.’
