‘And what is the Book?’ asked Ludo. ‘The first card is always important, isn’t it?’
The Elizabethan nodded. ‘I have an idea about thatte bot moste notte saye. I canne telle ye though thatte the Prince and Princess of Fyshes are yonge Lucian and the Duchess of Bellezza. They are the lovires, who are also here.’
‘But does it give you any idea if Luciano is in danger?’ asked Ludo. ‘My cousin Aurelio sent me with a warning to him.’
‘I thynke notte,’ said Dethridge. ‘He is not close to the Deathe sygne and the sworde is notte here.’
‘But the Death card is the thirteenth Arcanum, isn’t it?’ asked Ludo. ‘And it’s right there beside the thirteenth card, with the next being the Magician. I would read that as the death penalty for magic.’
‘Mayhap,’ said Dethridge, scooping the cards up quickly and wrapping them in a piece of black silk. ‘And if thatte you are ryghte, we had best hide our means of divinatioun awaye.’
*
Luciano had a surprisingly good time with Filippo di Chimici. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Filippo really was ‘one of the good ones’, like Gaetano, Falco and Francesca. Filippo could be very charming when he put his mind to it and he plied Luciano with the best food and drink that di Chimici wealth could supply in Padavia.
But even though he had consumed a good deal of the Bellezzan red, which made him feel at home, Luciano kept his head. He did not know how much Gaetano had told his new brother-in-law about the Stravaganti and his years in Talia had taught him that it was dangerous to reveal anything about them.
‘What do you think about the new laws against magic?’ Filippo asked and Luciano immediately felt he must walk on eggshells with his reply.
‘I don’t really know much about it,’ said Luciano untruthfully. ‘I suppose it depends on the kind of magic. Some of it is obviously bad, like putting curses on people, but surely some is helpful? Spells to cure illnesses, for instance?’
‘I agree with you,’ said Filippo. ‘The law can be a blunt instrument, and it doesn’t distinguish between kinds of magic.’
‘And I think it’s a pity that it’s all got mixed up with religion,’ said Luciano. ‘The goddess stuff, I don’t know much about it but I don’t see what the harm in it is.’
‘Careful,’ said Filippo. ‘That’s dangerous talk now, in this city and many others.’ But he was smiling and Luciano still didn’t feel any threat from him.
‘I could do with some magic myself,’ sighed Filippo.
‘Why?’
‘Well, my life is just coasting along. In a way I am waiting for my father to die and that is awful,’ said Filippo, hastily crossing himself. ‘I have no role in Bellona. My father makes all the decisions and he is not even teaching me how to be a good successor to him. And since Francesca went to Giglia there is no other young person to talk to about it. It might be different if I had a wife.’
‘Do you not think of marrying then?’ asked Luciano.
‘I have thought of it,’ said Filippo. ‘But for one of our family it is important to have the approval of its head. That is my cousin Fabrizio now, of course, and he has had much on his mind. There is no one that I think of marrying at present.’
Luciano felt they were in dangerous waters with talk of the head of the family but was startled when Filippo suddenly asked, ‘And what about yourself? I heard a rumour about the young Duchessa of Bellezza?’
Luciano looked at Filippo’s handsome and open face and decided that, if he knew already, it couldn’t hurt to agree.
‘Our engagement is a secret at present,’ he said, aware that this was not only a di Chimici but a man five years older than him. ‘But, yes, you are right. When my year at the University here is over, we shall be married.’
‘Quite right to wait,’ said Filippo pleasantly. ‘I have spent time at the fine old University of Bellona myself. One cannot rush the education of a prince.’
Luciano suddenly felt very inferior. Although his marriage would make him a duke consort, he wasn’t from a noble family in either world and he often felt a fake in Talia. For the first time he wondered who might have been his wife back in his old life. A picture of a girl with stripey hair crossed his mind before he suppressed it.
‘Tell me about your family,’ said Filippo. ‘I think you know much about mine.’
This time Luciano was ready. He had a cover story that he was the orphaned son of Rodolfo’s cousin in Padavia.
‘Yet you are not the Regent’s foster-son, I believe?’
‘No. When Rodolfo saw how matters lay between his daughter and myself, the scientist Guglielmo Crinamorte and his wife Leonora offered to become my foster-parents.’
‘Very proper,’ said Filippo. ‘I have heard something of this Dottore Crinamorte. Was he not originally from Anglia?’
‘Indeed,’ said Luciano. ‘Though he has long made his life in Talia.’
Filippo felt that he had probed enough for their first meeting and turned the conversation to more general matters. When Luciano left the palazzo, slightly unsteady on his feet, he felt that he had made a new friend.
On his way home, though, a familiar scent assailed him and a much less reputable acquaintance fell into step beside him.
‘Nice evening?’ inquired Enrico.
‘Very pleasant, thank you,’ said Luciano, slightly annoyed.
‘A word to the wise,’ said Enrico, tapping the side of his nose. ‘It doesn’t do to get too pally with that lot.’
‘Do you mean the di Chimici?’ said Luciano. ‘I know that many of them are not to be trusted but Gaetano is one of my best friends. And so was poor Falco.’
‘And what did that lead to?’ asked Enrico. ‘Suicide on the one hand and a rash of murders on the other. All I’m saying is, be careful. And let me see what I can find out about this one.’
‘All right,’ said Luciano. It still felt strange to have Enrico working on his side but it couldn’t do any harm to discover a bit more about the Bellonan.
‘We’ve got to tell her something,’ whispered Georgia as she let Nick in. ‘She looks dreadful. And we’ve got to find out what Matt’s been up to.’
‘Hold on,’ said Nick. ‘Do you mean we’ve got to tell her about stravagation? Remember how that went down with Alice?’
They went into the kitchen, where Ayesha was still stirring her cold tea. She looked up with tired eyes.
‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘You’re Nick, aren’t you? One of Matt’s new friends.’ Her face twisted so that suddenly she didn’t look beautiful at all. ‘Please tell me what’s been going on.’
Nick was moved by her obvious distress but he still felt unsure. When they’d told Alice their secret six months ago, she hadn’t believed them. Then she’d insisted on stravagating herself and he didn’t think Matt would want Ayesha following him to Padavia.
‘How much has Georgia told you?’ he hedged.
‘Nothing,’ said Ayesha bitterly. ‘No one will tell me anything and someone’s going to die if you don’t.’
Nick looked at Georgia, startled.
‘Ayesha thinks that Matt has done something to Jago Jones,’ she said. ‘He’s in Intensive Care and the doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him.’
There was enough in their histories about mysterious illnesses and unexplained deaths for Nick to realise how serious this was. But he couldn’t understand what it could have to do with Matt’s mission in Padavia – whatever that was.
‘I don’t see how what Matt’s been doing could have affected this Jago,’ he said. ‘But we’ll tell you if you like.’
He looked at Georgia, who nodded.
‘Matt is a Stravagante and so are we – Sky too. You won’t know what that means but it’s a kind of traveller in time and space.’
‘What? Like Doctor Who?’ said Ayesha, looking angry. ‘What do you take me for? I’ve been going out with him for three months and I KNOW him. He’s a big, soft, dyslexic rugger player who’s a great kis
ser and good with computers – not some alien Time Lord.’
‘We were all just like you and everyone else till we were chosen,’ said Georgia. ‘At least, apart from Nick, but that’s another story. There are these talismans that sort of seek out people of our age who are feeling miserable for some reason. And if we use them, we can get to Talia, which is like another kind of Italy only in the sixteenth century.’
‘Was Matt miserable?’ asked Nick.
Ayesha didn’t answer straight away; they could see she was taking them more seriously now.
‘It’s true he doesn’t have much self-confidence,’ she said at last. ‘And he was always so worried about whether I really liked him. He was always jealous of Jago – you know we used to go out?’
‘Yes,’ said Georgia. ‘And then you and Matt quarrelled and you seem to be very caught up with Jago again.’
‘But that was only yesterday,’ said Ayesha. ‘Yesterday! I can’t believe how everything’s changed in such a short time. But Matt was acting strangely before that and he’s been hanging out with you guys for over a week. Are you telling me that this strav— thing has been going on all that time?’
‘It must have been nearly two weeks ago,’ said Nick. ‘That was when we realised that Matt had a talisman. Georgia and I were there when he picked it up.’
‘We’re getting used to spotting them now,’ said Georgia.
‘But what has he been doing in this other place?’ asked Ayesha. ‘Have you been going there with him?’
‘No,’ said Georgia. ‘We don’t go there any more. Nor does Sky.’
‘He’s been working in a printer’s,’ said Nick.
‘Why?’ asked Ayesha. ‘I mean, I can’t believe any of this but a printer’s is the last place I’d expect him to go. And what would that have to do with the state Jago’s in?’
‘That I don’t know,’ said Nick. ‘You’d have to ask Matt.’
As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Georgia let in a wild-eyed Matt. He groaned when he saw Ayesha.
‘Yesh . . .’ he began but Nick interrupted him.
‘She knows, Matt. We had to tell her.’
Matt turned his bloodshot eyes on Nick, appalled.
‘But how come? I mean, how do you know what I did?’
‘We only told her about stravagation,’ said Georgia.
‘Well?’ asked Ayesha. ‘What did you do exactly?’
When he got home, Luciano was surprised to find Ludo companionably drinking ale with his foster-father as if they had known each other all their lives. The rusty-haired Manoush had been playing on his flute and Dethridge had clearly enjoyed his visit.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t home for supper,’ said Luciano. ‘But you don’t seem to have lacked company.’
‘Aye, never feare ladde,’ said Dethridge. ‘We have been entertaining eche othire wondrous well. Bot where were ye?’
‘I had dinner with Filippo di Chimici,’ said Luciano. ‘He’s attending some classes at the University.’
Ludo looked at him with worry in his grey eyes. ‘Were you careful? Remember my cousin’s warning.’
Luciano felt a bit annoyed as well as rather drunk. Hadn’t he been the model of discretion?
‘Not all di Chimici are bad,’ he said. ‘And Filippo is Francesca’s brother. We had a good time together.’
‘And whatte did ye converse about?’ asked Dethridge.
‘All sorts of things,’ said Luciano, uneasy under this cross-questioning. ‘Our studies, Gaetano and Francesca, marriage.’
‘Marriage?’ said Ludo.
‘Yes, he wishes he had a bride in prospect,’ said Luciano. ‘I think he’s a bit lonely since his sister left home. He says he’s got nothing to do until his father dies.’
That had come out worse than he meant.
‘Beware the heir?’ said Ludo softly.
‘But he talked about a lot of other things too,’ Luciano hurried on. ‘The magic laws for one thing. He doesn’t agree with them.’
‘Interesting,’ said Dethridge. ‘In especial for thatte his cozin introduced them. But yonge Ludovic and I have bene talking about them too. I read the cardes in a spread of thirteen.’
‘For me?’ asked Luciano, who knew it wasn’t the usual day in the month when his foster-father and Rodolfo did their divinations. He had been getting into the habit of doing them too but it was always at New Moon and that had been a few days ago; Luciano had forgotten all about it this October.
‘Aye,’ said Dethridge. ‘Just to ensure thatte ye were saufe.’
‘And was I?’ asked Luciano.
‘Ludovic thynkes not,’ said Dethridge.
‘There was the Death card,’ said Ludo. ‘And yours. And many other things I could not understand. I am not an expert like Dottore Crinamorte but I am afraid for you.’
Chapter 14
Two Nights
Jan Wood and Vicky Mulholland took turns sitting with Celia Jones at her son’s bedside. The three women had been friends since their children were at primary school and they had been part of the same babysitting circle. It was particularly hard for Vicky to be back in ICU, even though it was three years now since Lucien had died there.
She firmly pushed the memory down; Jago was not going to die. It was nothing like the situation with Lucien. Jago hadn’t got cancer. But no one knew what was wrong with him and that was what was so devastating for Celia. When Vicky arrived to be with her that night, Matt’s mother was doing her best to comfort their friend.
‘At least he’s no worse,’ Jan was saying. ‘The doctors think he’s stabilised. And the longer he’s stable, the more tests they have time for.’
Celia looked ten years older than she had twenty-four hours ago. Vicky recognised the signs.
‘Jan’s right,’ she said. ‘You must stay positive.’
Jan fetched them both some coffee from the machine before heading for home. To her surprise, Ayesha was there. Jan hadn’t known what was going on between Matt and his girlfriend but she did know that Ayesha hadn’t been around much lately and she had seemed terribly concerned about Jago, more than just a friend would be.
Now she was in the kitchen helping Harry cook dinner. He was chattering on blithely about school orchestra, oblivious of the tension between Ayesha and Matt, which it took Jan only seconds to pick up.
Not for the first time, Jan wished her husband had a more ordinary job, one that meant he could eat dinner with his family; it was extraordinary how often quarrels broke out over a meal.
‘Hi, Ayesha. Are you eating with us?’ she said brightly. ‘How’s the food coming, Harry?’
‘Fine, Mum,’ said Harry. ‘It’s only heating up really. Yesh did the beans. And I put an extra potato in the oven because I thought she might stay.’
He beamed round at them. Thank God Harry hasn’t started on girlfriends yet, thought Jan.
‘Would you lay the table, Matt?’ she said. ‘We’ll eat in the dining room.’
‘I’ll give him a hand,’ said Ayesha.
Jan hoped they would sort out whatever it was soon.
That peasant boy is back, thought Enrico, who had taken to hanging round outside Luciano’s lodgings. It hadn’t taken him long to find out where the Bellezzan lived; his skills of detection had returned with his better fortune. Enrico knew the young Bellezzan didn’t trust him any more than did the stable-boy from Remora did. But Enrico was fascinated by Luciano. The very fact that the Bellezzan hadn’t hauled him off to the authorities counted in his favour. Yet Enrico had been part of a plot to kill him. Luciano must know by now that the foils had been tampered with at the duel. And that no one but Enrico could have smeared the poison on the Duke’s blade. But the Bellezzan had given him food, clothes and some money and Enrico now owed him a debt.
The peasant boy wasn’t alone this time; he was accompanied by an armed ruffian, no better dressed than himself, who was clearly keeping an eye out for the younger boy.
Funny, thought Enrico. How often did
a peasant travel with an armed guard? The door of Luciano’s house opened and the two were let in. At the same time a tall young man with red-brown hair and a black cloak slipped out. Enrico was torn for a moment but decided to follow the rusty-headed stranger.
Inside the house Luciano and Arianna were blissfully unaware of their new grubby guardian angel. Dethridge, who had been kept informed by Rodolfo, was not deceived by the masculine disguise and tactfully withdrew.
‘Who was that leaving?’ asked Arianna, when they had finally pulled apart, a little breathlessly. ‘I thought he looked familiar.’
‘Only because he’s Manoush,’ said Luciano. ‘He’s a new one – Ludo – and he brought me a message from Aurelio.’
‘What message?’
‘Oh, you know, the usual sort of thing – just to be careful of the di Chimici and beware of danger. But he’s in worse danger than I am. You’ve heard about the new anti-magic laws being brought in here too?’
‘Yes,’ said Arianna. ‘Antonio sent word.’
Looking at her in her coarse canvas breeches and homespun shirt, Luciano found it hard to remember that she was the elected ruler of Bellezza, who would have to be kept informed about Padavian laws, as the city was her near neighbour and ally.
‘It would affect all the Manoush, wouldn’t it?’ she continued. ‘All this clamping down on goddess-worship.’ The fingers of her right hand began to curl but she unclenched them. The Duchessa had learned not to make the hand of fortune sign, common among the people of the lagoon.
‘The whole reason they are here is to worship the goddess,’ said Luciano. He went over to the window, whose shutters were open to the October night. ‘It’s half-moon tonight. In five days’ time they begin to celebrate their Day of the Dead. However quietly they set about it, they’ll be open to prosecution under the new laws.’
‘What was Ludo doing here?’ asked Arianna.
‘I think he was trying to keep the Dottore company,’ said Luciano. ‘I’ve only just got back from dining with Filippo di Chimici.’