City of Flowers

by Mary Hoffman

  Sky was already busy washing up the cáfetière.

  ‘Should I know your work, Ms . . .?’ Rosalind began to ask Giuditta.

  ‘Giuditta,’ said the sculptor. ‘I doubt it. It is in another place.’

  ‘Italy, is it?’ asked Rosalind. ‘Your English is very good, both of you.’ She was struggling to incorporate these two strangers into her frame of reference. How could this handsome friar have taken her son to the sculptor’s studio if it was in Italy? And how did Sky come to know him? They seemed old friends.

  Nicholas came to the rescue. ‘She has a wonderful reputation,’ he said. ‘Giuditta Miele is one of the most famous artists in Europe.’

  ‘Really?’ said Rosalind. ‘Please forgive my ignorance.’

  Georgia had been sitting dumbstruck, appalled by the awkwardness of the situation. She wondered what she would have done if Paolo the Horsemaster, ‘her’ Stravagante in Remora, had ever turned up at her house and sat drinking coffee in the kitchen. Remembering how her mother Maura had got the wrong end of the stick about her relationship with the old antique dealer who had sold her the talisman of the flying horse, she began to feel hysterical laughter rising in her throat.

  Nicholas kicked her under the table and she turned it into a cough. The phone rang and Rosalind went to take the call in the living room.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ said Georgia. ‘I thought I was going to burst. You can’t get away with this, Sky. She’s bound to smell a rat. You don’t just have friends who are sculptors and friars who live in Italy without ever mentioning them to your mother.’

  ‘I can make her forget all about meeting us if you like,’ said Sulien. ‘If you think it would be less worrying for her?’

  ‘You don’t mean with one of your potions, do you?’ asked Sky apprehensively.

  ‘I would never administer anything that could harm her,’ said Sulien gravely. ‘But no, I meant something simpler.’

  Rosalind came back into the room looking pink and pretty. ‘I’m awfully sorry, but I’m going to have to go. A friend is unexpectedly in town and wants to see me. I’m sure Sky will look after you.’

  To Sky she whispered, ‘It’s Paul. He came up on the night train last night. He wants me to meet him at his club. Will you be all right here?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Sky. Then said, ‘His club?’ with a quizzical look.

  Rosalind suppressed a giggle. She went to get her bag and jacket, then took her leave of the group in the kitchen. As she shook hands with Sulien he gazed into her eyes and said some words that no one in the room, except perhaps Giuditta, could understand. Rosalind shook her head slightly, her blue eyes suddenly cloudy. Then she said goodbye to the three teenagers, as if there were no one else in the room, and left.

  ‘Phew,’ said Sky. ‘That was horrible. Thank goodness for Paul.’

  ‘We are wasting time,’ said Giuditta. For all her apparent confidence, she did not yet feel at ease out of her own world.

  ‘Prince Falco,’ said Sulien, ‘I have come because I hear you are willing to try stravagating to Talia again.’

  ‘More than willing,’ said Nicholas eagerly. ‘I’m dying to go back.’

  ‘But the talisman you have takes you only to Remora,’ said the friar. ‘Do you have it with you?’

  Nicholas pulled a glossy black feather, about the size of a swan’s, out of his jacket and laid it on the table. It was beautiful. Sulien took from his pocket what at first looked like an identical feather and put it beside the first one. Then Sky saw it was in fact a very fine quill pen. Nicholas took it up and admired it; it had a bluish sheen.

  ‘You understand that if you take it, you have to give up the other talisman?’ said Sulien. Nicholas nodded; he seemed mesmerised by the quill. Sulien took the black feather and stowed it in his robes.

  ‘Simple, isn’t it?’ said Georgia, and Sky saw that she was glaring at Giuditta. ‘I suppose you now offer me something and I’m supposed to hand over my flying horse?’

  She took a bubble-wrapped package from her pocket and began to open it. Giuditta said nothing. She had said nothing to Georgia at all so far. At last the winged horse stood on the table between them. Sky had never seen Merla, the miraculous horse with wings that both Georgia and Nicholas had ridden in Remora, but he could see how much the little figure meant to Georgia; she was fighting tears as she said, ‘What can you offer me to set beside that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Giuditta. ‘The exchange can be made only if the Stravagante is willing. I did bring a new talisman for you, but if you do not want to give up your right to travel to Remora, I cannot make you.’

  This was not what Georgia had been expecting. She struggled with her curiosity to see what the sculptor had brought and her desire to keep the little horse. But it seemed churlish to ask to see the new talisman when she had no intention of accepting it.

  Giuditta took something from a pocket in her work-dress and put it, wordlessly, on the table. It was an exquisite figure of a ram.

  ‘I made it myself,’ she said impassively.

  ‘For me?’ asked Georgia. Giuditta nodded. ‘Can I hold it?’

  Georgia took up the small animal. It was quite different from her original talisman – Renaissance in feeling beside the Etruscan figure, more sophisticated in its detail, with the tiny curved horns and woollen curls meticulously sculpted. And it touched her that this gifted, if severe, artist had made it specifically for her.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said simply, handing it back.

  ‘But you are not going to take it?’

  Georgia shook her head, miserable.

  ‘Georgia,’ said Nicholas, taking her hand. ‘If you took it, we could be in Giglia together tonight! I could show you my city. And we could see Gaetano again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  Georgia was crying, silently.

  Giuditta stood up. ‘Do not attempt to compel her,’ she said sternly. ‘An unwilling Stravagante would be no good to us in time of danger. Sulien, I think we should leave.’

  She put the ram away but Sky did not think she was offended; if anything, she seemed to be on Georgia’s side. Giuditta asked if she could lie on his bed to stravagate back to Talia and he led her to his room; Sulien would follow as soon as the sculptor had disappeared. When Sky got back to the kitchen, he found Sulien spooning honey on to a piece of toast and making Georgia eat it.

  ‘You are trembling, my dear,’ he said. ‘You have been through an ordeal and must have something sweet to restore you.’

  ‘Please don’t be so nice,’ said Georgia, her mouth full of crumbs and stickiness. ‘I know I’m spoiling all your plans. And the ram was really lovely. But I just can’t give up the horse.’

  ‘Then we must just make some new plans,’ said Sulien.

  While Beatrice spoke of sweetmeats and silvered almonds, the Duke was giving a very special commission to a jeweller from the nearby workshops. The Grand-Ducal crown of Tuschia was to be kept a secret, on pain of death. It was to be a circle of silver with the Giglian lily in front, bearing a great oval ruby that was already in Niccolò’s possession. All the way round rose points of silver, every other one terminating in a miniature lily, and the whole was to be set with gems, square-cut and round.

  And the jeweller had a second even more secret commission: a smaller crown, for a Grand Duchess, a copy of that to be worn by her lord and master. And if he wondered who was to wear it, since the Duke was a widower, he valued his own life far too much to voice the thought. And he was going to be busy; the Duke had also ordered a choker of pearls and diamonds, a sleeve pendant in the shape of a Bellezzan mandola and two silver collars, ‘large enough for a big dog.’

  ‘Any particular dog, your Grace?’ hazarded the jeweller. ‘Such as I might measure?’

  ‘They are not for dogs at all,’ said Niccolò haughtily. ‘I have ordered two spotted cats from Africa; the collars are for them.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, really,’ said Nicholas for the umpteenth tim
e, but Georgia was inconsolable.

  Sulien and Giuditta had both gone. Sky had been feeding Georgia sweet tea for shock but she was still in a terrible state.

  ‘I do want to go to Giglia with you, more than almost anything,’ she was saying. ‘It’s just that I can’t give up the chance of going back to Remora and seeing Paolo and Cesare again and their family – and the horses. It was what stopped me going mad all that time when Russell was bullying me.’

  The doorbell rang again and Sky went to answer it.

  ‘I understand, honestly,’ said Nicholas. ‘I didn’t mean to make it harder for you. You know I wouldn’t do anything to upset you.’

  Someone was following Sky into the room; it was the last person he had expected to find on his doorstep.

  ‘Hello, Georgia,’ said Luciano.

  Chapter 16

  Mapping the City

  The Pope was feeling testy. He was accustomed to being treated as less important than his older brother, the Duke; it had been going on all his life. But he was Pope, after all, and Prince of Remora into the bargain, and he did think he might have been consulted about the arrangements for these weddings, especially since he was going to officiate at them. Now his chaplain, his nephew Rinaldo, was telling him that he would have to travel to Giglia soon after celebrating Mass in the cathedral of Remora on Easter Sunday, in order to be there in time for a great tournament the next day.

  In truth, much of his bad humour came from the fact that it was nearly four weeks into Lent and Ferdinando di Chimici hadn’t had what he considered a decent meal since Shrove Tuesday. Easter Sunday’s dinner was something he had been looking forward to. The Pope was a great trencherman and Lent was a sore trial to him.

  ‘I shall have terrible indigestion if I travel by coach after dinner on Easter Sunday,’ he complained.

  ‘But, your Holiness,’ said Rinaldo, who was well aware of his uncle’s weakness, ‘you would not wish to miss any of the feasts planned by your brother the Duke. He has told me himself of the splendour and magnificence of the banquets. Perhaps if you took a light lunch after Mass on the Sunday, you could travel in comfort? I am sure the Duke will entertain you sumptuously when you reach Giglia.’

  The Pope was mollified. ‘Tell me about the banquets,’ he said.

  Georgia was quite hysterical.

  ‘I know why you’ve come!’ she hissed at Luciano. ‘They thought you could persuade me to swap talismans. I bet you’ve got that ram with you, and I know it’s beautiful, but I’m not going to take it. It’s not fair to ask me!’ And all the time she was thinking, It’s Luciano, after all this time, and I’m all red-faced and teary – I must look a sight.

  ‘I’m not going to ask you,’ said Luciano calmly. ‘I came to tell you I’ve thought of another way. I haven’t got any ram.’

  His voice was husky, as if his throat hurt, and Georgia was suddenly seized with remorse, as she remembered how hard it was for him to stravagate in this direction. She wondered if he’d had to go first to his old home and whether his parents had seen him.

  ‘Give him some of your sweet tea,’ she said to Sky. ‘He looks as if he needs it.’

  Luciano accepted the tea and looked admiringly at Nicholas, while Georgia escaped to the bathroom to repair the damage done by all the crying.

  ‘You look amazing, Falco. I should hardly have recognised you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Nicholas. ‘Do you think I’ll be recognised in Giglia? I mean, I’m a whole year older than I should be, as well as being alive when I’m supposed to be dead.’

  ‘I think you’d be fine,’ said Luciano, ‘except with members of your family. They’d know you but they’d have to see you up close.’

  ‘I told Sky I’d grow a beard,’ said Nicholas. ‘But I can’t wait for that. I want to go to Giglia tonight.’

  ‘Without Georgia?’ asked Sky.

  Nicholas paced the small kitchen. ‘Of course I don’t want to go without her! But you’ll be there, won’t you? And it doesn’t look as if she ever will.’

  ‘That’s why I’ve come,’ said Luciano.

  Georgia came back; she was calm now and ready to listen to his idea.

  ‘It’s simple really,’ said Luciano. ‘Although we thought there wouldn’t be time for you to get from Remora to Giglia and back within one night’s stravagation, there’s something we’ve all been forgetting.’

  They all looked blank.

  ‘We’ve been thinking of doing it by carriage or horse, using the road between the two cities,’ he continued. ‘It would take several hours each way on the sixteenth-century highway – it’s not like a motorway. But the distance between Remora and Giglia is not so very great – at least, not as the horse flies.’

  Georgia saw it in an instant, although the other two were a few steps behind her. She flung her arms round Luciano, no longer embarrassed, and he smiled into her radiant face.

  ‘Brilliant!’ she said. ‘That’s it! I could go to Paolo’s and see Cesare and the family and then fly to Giglia on Merla. And then do the same in the opposite direction before darkness falls in Talia. I could keep my talisman and still come to Giglia!’

  Now she hurled herself at Nicholas and made him dance round the kitchen with her. Everyone was grinning. Suddenly it seemed as if they were all about to embark on an exciting and glamorous holiday.

  ‘When can we go?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Sky. ‘We’ve got to plan this properly. If I understand it, you’ve both got to have proper clothes waiting at the other end and Nick’s at least will have to be some sort of disguise. And how is Georgia going to land a flying horse in the middle of a city? They don’t exactly have airfields in Giglia, and she hasn’t been there before – how will she know where to meet us?’

  That slowed everyone down a bit.

  ‘We can contact Paolo and tell him about Georgia going to Remora,’ said Luciano. ‘Rodolfo can do it through his mirrors. And I’m sure we can make some arrangements in Giglia, but Sky’s right; you can’t go tonight, Falco. Your disguise and cover story are going to take a bit of planning.’

  ‘How about him being another novice, like me?’ said Sky. ‘My black robe has a hood, which he could pull up over his face if there was anyone around who might recognise him. And Sulien could organise that.’

  ‘Where will I arrive?’ asked Nicholas. ‘The only time I’ve done it before, I turned up in Paolo’s stables, because my talisman was Merla’s feather, but I don’t know where the quill comes from.’

  ‘I think Sulien brought it from his cell,’ said Luciano. ‘But I’ll check on that and on the novice friar idea. I can tell Sky when he stravagates tonight.’

  ‘Oh, this is too frustrating!’ said Nicholas. ‘I have the talisman and I still can’t go! How long is it going to take?’

  ‘Not more than a day or two,’ said Luciano. ‘I must tell Gaetano, and we Stravaganti need to talk about where you should go and where you should be during the weddings. And Paolo will need to organise some clothes for Georgia. Nicholas isn’t the only one who has changed since he left Talia.’

  Georgia felt a blush beginning. Luciano hadn’t been in Remora when she and Nicholas had made their dramatic stravagation there six months ago and found that their worlds had been separated by an extra year. She knew she was no longer the awkward, flat-chested girl who had harboured a secret crush on Lucien Mulholland. The constant admiration of Nicholas and the increase in her confidence that her adventures in Remora had given her had turned her into quite a different person. In all respects but one. Just seeing Luciano sitting in Sky’s kitchen, wearing the simplest white shirt he could find and undisguisably black velvet trousers, she was overtaken by a wave of the old despair. The only boy she had ever really loved was separated from her by hundreds of years and a dimensional barrier she couldn’t begin to understand. And yet he had come back to tell her his idea himself, when he could have just explained it to Sky in Talia.

  ‘I wore one of Teresa�
�s dresses when I went back last time,’ she said quickly, to hide her feelings. ‘I expect I could do that again.’

  Luciano nodded. ‘We could organise that.’ He passed a hand across his face, suddenly weary. ‘I’d better get back. Can I lie on your bed, Sky, to stravagate home?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ said Sky, showing him the way. ‘It’s been like an airport terminal in there today.’

  When Sulien stepped off his maze the next morning he found two colourful figures waiting silently in the pews. A young man and woman, tall, with long dark hair, wearing the vivid, be-ribboned clothing of the Manoush. Sulien gestured to them to follow him into the cloister. He hadn’t met these two before but he knew others of their tribe; now he realised that the man was blind. The woman said, ‘Brother Sulien? Rodolfo sent us.’

  Sulien nodded.

  ‘I am Raffaella,’ said the woman. ‘And this is Aurelio. Rodolfo thinks you may need us.’

  Before he could ask why, a rather dishevelled and tired-looking Luciano joined them; clearly he knew the Manoush. Aurelio raised his fine head towards him as soon as he heard Luciano’s voice. But before they had finished exchanging greetings, Sky too had appeared. The five of them moved to Sulien’s laboratory.

  Luciano laid out the problems about getting Georgia from Remora to Giglia.

  ‘She will come on the zhou volou?’ asked Aurelio. ‘We can look after the horse for her while she does whatever you need her for in the city.’

  ‘Where could she land?’ asked Sky. ‘She doesn’t know Giglia.’

  ‘There are fields all round the city,’ said Raffaella. ‘We just need to agree a suitable place. It must be somewhere where we can keep the flying horse safely hidden until Georgia comes back for her.’

  ‘It also has to be somewhere she can find by easy landmarks,’ said Luciano. ‘You could draw her a map, Sky, showing her what to look for.’

  ‘The river and the cathedral are the two main landmarks she will be able to see clearly from the sky,’ said Sulien. ‘They will guide her course when she flies in from Remora.’