‘Ah,’ said a cultured voice. ‘But where exactly is home? And can you go there? Or do you need something we have taken from you?’
Lucien’s heart sank. They knew he was a Stravagante! They must be di Chimici. But perhaps they didn’t know which of the items they had robbed him of was the talisman? After all, the book was Bellezzan. Perhaps they were now going to torture him to find out?
‘You have no right to take my things,’ he said. ‘I want to go back to Signor Rodolfo.’
Smelly and Stinky was how Lucien thought of the two men. Smelly said something he couldn’t hear and Stinky said, ‘Of course you can go back to the Senator. Eventually. My friend here will take you.’
‘And I want my things back,’ said Lucien.
‘You can have them,’ said Stinky, adding, ‘all except the book, of course.’
Lucien couldn’t help wincing and he heard the little grunt of satisfaction from Smelly. ‘Brilliant,’ he thought. ‘Now I’ve told them what they need to know. At least they won’t torture me. But perhaps there’s no reason to keep me alive now?’ He imagined Smelly taking him through the back streets to Rodolfo’s and silently sliding the merlino-blade between his ribs. In a way, he almost hoped for it, because perhaps that would return him to his real body in the other world. But alive or dead? Maybe he would just live long enough to tell his parents he was sorry.
*
Dethridge was sober now. Before Rodolfo returned from presenting Arianna to the people as their new Duchessa on the Loggia degli Arieti, he had ordered Alfredo to take the old man into the roof garden and hold his head under the pump. The wet and chastened alchemist was holding his aching temples and trying to think of something he could do to help.
‘Wee coulde looke in the glasse,’ he said eventually. ‘Methinks I can telle whethir hee is in his bodie or nay.’
Rodolfo sprang to the mirror. He had forgotten about the window which Dethridge had opened on to Lucien’s world. It always showed Lucien’s room, with him in his bed, although Luciano was in Bellezza. A few movements with the levers and the mirror showed the accustomed room. Sunlight streamed through the window but the bed was empty.
‘That meneth noughte,’ said Dethridge, looking at Rodolfo’s anguished expression. ‘Hee will be aboute his lyf, like as not.’
‘No,’ said Rodolfo bitterly. ‘He has not gone back. I know it and it is my fault. His parents have taken his body somewhere, perhaps to their physician. Goddess save us if they think he is dead.’
‘Ay,’ said Dethridge, now troubled too. ‘Pepyle oftimes thoghte that I was dede when I was merely stravayging.’ He was moved to reveal one of his worst fears. ‘Mayhap I was enterred in my coffin and coulde not brethe? That may have bene how I came to be stronded hire.’
Rodolfo clapped the old man on the shoulder. ‘We must make sure nothing like that happens to Luciano. We have to find him and get him back.’
*
The sun poured into the new Duchessa’s bedchamber as Barbara flung back the wooden shutters. Arianna woke from a deep, sound sleep, at first unsure where she was. Then she remembered: she was Duchessa now.
The events of yesterday came crowding back – the madness of the election, the roomful of dresses, dressing up in a blue satin gown full of pins to make it fit and standing on the Loggia degli Arieti with Senator Rodolfo. He had been even more remote than usual, though she had longed to talk to someone about the last time she had been on that balcony, the night of the Marriage with the Sea.
‘I wish Luciano could be here,’ was all she had said, waving graciously to the crowd beneath. She assumed he had stravagated back home but she was sorry he had not said goodbye.
But Rodolfo had turned his big black eyes on her and said quietly something that sounded like, ‘I wish he were not.’
She hadn’t been able to ask him what he meant. She was learning what the life of a Bellezzan Duchessa was like and it involved never being on one’s own. There were always servants and guards in the way and a hundred little decisions to be made every hour. Arianna wondered how her mother had borne it for a quarter of a century.
It was starting again now, as she sat up in bed sipping her hot chocolate. Barbara was prattling away about clothes, when the dressmaker would be summoned to make all the garments she would need, including a coronation gown.
But Arianna was only mildly diverted by the thought of a whole new wardrobe. Unlike Silvia, she was not vain. What was worrying her now was all her State duties, sitting in Council and the Senate, appearing in public, dealing with the Reman Ambassador. She gave Barbara her cup and burrowed back under the bedclothes. It would have been much easier to be a mandolier.
Lucien was in intensive care. He had had another MRI scan, X-rays and an electro-encephalogram. It was eight o’clock in the evening and he had not woken up. Now he lay in his pyjamas in the hospital bed, his face pale but peaceful, while his mother sat beside him holding his hand.
Mr Laski studied the chart and was looking serious. ‘The tumour is a little bigger than at the last scan,’ he said. ‘But there is nothing to explain why he should be unconscious.’
‘So why is he?’ asked his father, trying to hold down the panic he felt.
Mr Laski shook his head. ‘I simply don’t know. But it’s early days yet. I’d like to monitor his breathing and his brain activity for twenty-four hours and see if there’s any change. And he’ll be examined by a neurologist. Try not to worry too much. This unit has seen a lot of patients come out of comas.’
‘Coma?’ said Mrs Mulholland. ‘Is that what it is?’
Rodolfo had not been to bed. He stayed up all night training his mirrors on likely places in Bellezza and even other cities in Talia where Luciano might be. When day broke, after a hasty breakfast, he left for the Duchessa’s palace by the open route, not the secret passage. He walked slowly through the Piazza, where people were clearing up after last night’s celebrations. How was he to tell Arianna that Luciano was missing? He hadn’t even told her that the boy was ill again. And there was something even more momentous that he had to tell her. But he could not face everything at once.
He stopped and rubbed his tired eyes. Although the di Chimici had not succeeded in killing Silvia and in spite of the fact that the new Duchessa was a replacement of her own choosing, this morning Rodolfo felt for the first time for many months that the enemy were winning.
He found Arianna in a temporary audience chamber.
‘Good morning, Your Grace,’ he said, bowing formally.
‘Good morning, Senator,’ said Arianna, ‘but I’m not yet, am I? Your Grace, I mean, not till my coronation.’
‘That is so,’ said Rodolfo, ‘and one of the things we must discuss is arrangements for that ceremony. We have to consider how long it will take to make the necessary robes and so on.’
If Arianna hadn’t been sitting down, she would have stamped her foot. ‘Clothes again! Is that what being a Duchessa is all about? I want to know how much money I’ve got, how many hours a day I have to work and when I can start making laws. Otherwise, I’m not sure I want to go through with the coronation, election or no election.’
Rodolfo looked at Arianna for a long time before answering, then sighed and brushed his hand over his face.
‘You are quite right,’ he said at last. ‘No one asked you if you would like to be Duchessa. You are scarcely more than a child and, though I am sure you will one day be an excellent ruler of the city, it will be years before you can make decisions unaided. There will be many tedious duties and the work will rarely be glamorous or enjoyable. But if you believe, as Silvia and I do, that the di Chimici are not to be trusted and that their dominance of our country must be stopped, there is nothing to do but carry on with the resistance in Bellezza. And that we can do only if you go ahead with the coronation.’
He paused
and searched her face with his penetrating eyes. ‘And you did think about all this on Torrone? You did talk to your parents?’
‘Foster-parents,’ corrected Arianna. ‘Yes. We talked about it all for ages. But I didn’t know it would be so hard.’
For all her spirit, Rodolfo saw her for the first time as a little girl. He pushed aside his fears for Lucien for the moment and smiled wearily. ‘Let me try to answer your questions. Firstly, money. Silvia, as you know, has taken her personal jewellery and some other precious objects. She has left almost all her grand clothes, some of which could perhaps be altered to fit you. And there are a great number of State jewels, which you will wear on important occasions.
‘Silvia has taken enough silver to start her new life in Padavia as a wealthy private citizen. But every new Duchessa has considerable wealth from the taxes paid by citizens. It is carefully allocated to the city coffers to pay for things which all citizens enjoy, but there is a substantial sum which will be yours to spend in whatever way you choose. I shall be here to help you with any advice you need and you also have a State treasurer.
‘As to laws, they have to come before the Senate, your twenty-four senior advisers. But anything proposed by the ruling Duchessa would be favourably looked upon, I’m sure. Did you have something in mind?’
‘I want to make a law that says girls can train as mandoliers,’ said Arianna, sniffing slightly. It seemed such a little thing now that she had the burden of ruling Bellezza on her shoulders, but she wanted to make that small difference as soon as possible, even though she would never now benefit from it herself.
‘Once you have been crowned, I shall make sure it is on the agenda for the first Senate meeting,’ said Rodolfo.
‘And I want to get rid of the horrible custom of young women having to wear masks,’ said Arianna.
‘It would be a lot harder to convince the Senate of that,’ said Rodolfo. ‘May I suggest that you do not rush in and try to change too much at once? The city needs continuity.’
‘What about the Palazzo?’ asked Arianna. ‘Can I change things in here?’
‘Again, once you are crowned, you can make whatever changes we agree together. Do you have ideas already?’
‘I want to get rid of the Glass Room,’ said Arianna, shuddering. ‘It gives me gooseflesh.’
‘I should be happy to agree to that,’ said Rodolfo. He got up and walked to the window. ‘Now, if I have calmed your immediate fears about being Duchessa, I have to tell you something about Luciano. And it may be serious.’
Chapter 20
Out of the Shadows
Lucien was suffering his first full day of captivity in Bellezza. His hands had been untied so that he could remove his blindfold and he could see that he was in a small stone-floored room with very little furniture. There was a chair, a straw mattress which had been put in for his use, and a locked wooden chest, with a bowl and jug of water for washing on top. In a corner was a bucket for him to relieve himself in.
There was one high window and, once the feeling had come back into his wrists, he took down the bowl and jug and dragged the chest underneath it so that he could climb up and see out.
The view was not very revealing; it confirmed that he was several storeys up and, from his knowledge of the church spires and bell-towers of Bellezza, he could work out roughly where this building must be.
But that wasn’t much help. He was pretty sure that he must be in the Reman Ambassador’s apartments. But what mattered was not where he was but how he could get the book back. If he had that, he could stravagate back home in an instant. Without it, he was almost as stranded in this world as William Dethridge was.
As the weary hours stretched on, he would have settled even for escaping back to Rodolfo’s. At noon, if the light through the high window was anything to go by, a woman brought him more ale and bread and some hard cheese and olives. But she wouldn’t talk to him and backed out of the room hastily as soon as she had put the food inside the door. She turned the key in the lock just as soon as she was outside again.
Lucien cursed himself for being such a wuss. He could easily have overpowered the woman but everything in him rebelled at the idea of attacking someone unarmed and harmless who was bringing him food. Nevertheless he determined to do it the next time she came in.
For now he ate the food and even drank the ale, then lay on the straw mattress and slept for the first time since he had been captured.
*
‘I have founde sum thinge!’ cried Dethridge, who had been watching over the magic mirrors in the laboratory almost constantly since Lucien’s disappearance.
Rodolfo was instantly at his side and peering into the mirror which Dethridge had trained on to Lucien’s world. A woman lay on Lucien’s bed, his pillow in her arms. There were no sounds in the mirror but it was obvious that she was crying. Rodolfo motioned to Dethridge to step back and he drew the silver curtain over the mirror.
‘What dost thou thinke?’ asked Dethridge. ‘The mothire?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Rodolfo, his own face lined with grief. ‘She is suffering and there is nothing I can do to help her. I wonder if I should stravagate to Luciano’s world?’
Before Dethridge could answer, Alfredo came to the door, panting from climbing the stairs too quickly.
‘Master,’ he said. ‘Di Chimici has organized a People’s Senate for tomorrow. There are posters all over the city.’
The Ducal Senate met every month at the Duchessa’s bidding to deal with all civil matters. But it was the right of any citizen, if he had the backing of eleven others, to call a ‘People’s Senate’ in extraordinary circumstances. Then the twenty-four Senators would convene in the large Council Room instead of their usual Senate Chamber. The twelve citizens who had called the Senate would put their case and the hearing would be open to the public. Bellezzan citizens would pack into the room usually filled by the two hundred and forty Councillors.
It was a very rare event, but perfectly constitutional. Di Chimici hadn’t called it himself, since he was a citizen of Remora, but he had bribed twelve Bellezzans to do it. They were not difficult to persuade because, now that the excitement of the election was over, they were open to doubts about the new Duchessa.
That evening, there was an emergency meeting in Rodolfo’s laboratory. Alfredo escorted the two women from Leonora’s house and Arianna, having received a message from Rodolfo, used the secret passage for the first time. She emerged into the candlelit room and found the others looking serious. She wished with all her heart that Luciano were safe and beside her there among these solemn grown-ups.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘Rinaldo di Chimici has organized a People’s Senate for tomorrow,’ said Rodolfo, ‘and we’ll have to let it go ahead.’
‘But you won’t have to preside,’ said Silvia quickly, ‘since you aren’t confirmed as Duchessa till your coronation. Rodolfo will take charge of proceedings, as Principal Senator.’
‘Will I have to be there?’ asked Arianna, her heart sinking.
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Rodolfo. ‘We suspect that the motion will concern you. Di Chimici will be exploring every loophole to get your election overturned.’
‘What can he do?’ asked Arianna.
‘He can challenge your legitimacy,’ said Silvia. ‘It has never bothered Bellezzans much, but there is a clause in the constitution that bars illegitimate children from election. I should have had it changed while I had the power.’
Arianna was appalled. ‘But then my election will be overturned!’
‘Wait, child,’ said Leonora.
‘We can block this particular motion,’ said Rodolfo, glancing over at Arianna, ‘but we don’t know what else they are planning. I’m worried that they may be behind Luciano’s disappearance. I’ve had people searching the
city and there’s no sign of him. He must be a prisoner somewhere. But there is something else that is worrying me.’
He started pacing the room. ‘Luciano told Doctor Dethridge and myself that his illness has come back. Whether he is imprisoned or not, I know he has not gone back to his world. We have no way of knowing how much time has passed there, nor what his parents will be thinking about his apparently lifeless body. According to the Doctor, he will be like one asleep – breathing but unconscious.’
‘But that’s terrible!’ cried Arianna. ‘Will they think it’s the illness that’s doing it to him?’
Rodolfo and Dethridge both looked grave and Arianna was really scared. She had been so absorbed in her own situation that the news about Lucien’s illness had come as a shock. Now she felt devastated by the thought that she might never see him again.
Mr Laski and the neurologist, Ms Beaumont, had run out of ideas. Lucien’s coma had now lasted nearly three weeks. After a few hours, he had had to be fed by tubes. After a few days, he couldn’t breathe on his own and more tubes were needed. He now looked very pale and thin.
‘We’re going to have to tell the parents today,’ said Ms Beaumont. ‘There’s no sign of any brain activity. He can’t recover. There’s nothing for it but to pull the plug.’
The People’s Senate was due to start at three. From late morning, citizens started to drift across the Piazza, wanting to be sure of a seat. Once all the Councillors’ places were filled, people took up position standing round the walls. It was soon very hot in the Council Room.
Lucien was blindfolded and bound again. He hadn’t had to wrestle with his conscience the night before, since his food had been brought by the man with the dagger. He recognized him both as Smelly and as the spy with the blue cloak, who had been following him round the city for weeks.
This morning the man had come back and, after binding and blindfolding him, had led him out of the room and down the stairs. They left the house and Lucien felt the warm Bellezzan sun on his shoulders. The blindfold was removed and he could see he was near the Piazza. He took deep breaths of the mild air, not even minding the faint whiff of canal.