Authors: Mary Hoffman
Arianna was sitting on a stone bench scattering seed for a magnificent peacock. She was simply dressed in green silk, with a plain silk mask. There were no jewels in sight and her hair was loose on her shoulders. She looked the girl that she was, a year younger than Gaetano but already ruler of a great city-state. Gaetano suddenly felt sorry for her.
At his greeting, she rose and the peacock scuttled away; he heard it scream in the far distance.
âGood morning, Principe,' she said. âI hope you enjoyed your dinner last night?'
âVery much,' he replied, though having no recollection of any dish that was served. It crossed his mind fleetingly that this was not like him.
âI hope also that it was a pleasure to see your cousin again,' continued the Duchessa. âI was not sure if she would accept my invitation. You may know that she stood against me in the Ducal election?'
âSo I gather,' said Gaetano, who had heard all the details from Francesca the night before. âI am sure your Grace understands that it was not my cousin's idea.'
âOh it was your cousin's idea all right,' said the Duchessa. âJust not that cousin's. Your family have many plans for Bellezza, don't they?'
It was hardly diplomatic language, but Gaetano had realised that this was to be no conventional courtship or proposal. Directness was going to serve him better than any courtly pretence.
âYour Grace,' he said. âI think you know why I am here. My father wrote to yours proposing an alliance between our two families. I am supposed to ask for your hand in marriage.'
âAnd is this you doing it?' asked the Duchessa, arching one eyebrow. âShould you not kneel and profess undying love?'
âHow can I?' asked Gaetano. âI don't know you and until I know someone I cannot love her or pretend to do so. But I have been brought up to obey my father. And I shall make this marriage if you are willing. And if we were to be married, I should strive to be a good husband and devote myself to your happiness.'
The Duchessa's manner softened. âYou are honest, Principe, and I like you the better for it. But if you are to make a bargain in the marriage market, you should be able to inspect the goods.' She began to untie her mask. âAnd during our courtship, if that is what it is, I think we should call each other by our given names. Mine is Arianna.'
âI am Gaetano,' said the young di Chimici, as he looked on the face of his father's enemy and liked what he saw very much indeed.
âIt's broken,' said Georgia, feeling sick.
âYeah, sorry, I said,' said Russell. âIt was an accident.'
âIt was covered in bubble-wrap,' said Georgia. âYou must have unwrapped it.'
âIt can be mended,' said Maura, anxious to keep the peace. âI can stick it together for you so that you won't be able to see the join. It will be as good as new.'
âYou did it deliberately,' Georgia said to Russell, âbecause you knew it was important to me.'
âWhy is that, George?' Russell said, almost pleasantly. âI can't see why that horse thing matters so much. It's only an ornament and you have lots of china horses â quite childish really. Perhaps it's something to do with that creep you bought it from â that old guy you're so friendly with?'
Maura and Ralph's antennae quivered. âWhat man is this, Georgia?' asked Maura.
âIt's the old bloke at the antique shop,' explained Russell. âShe's always popping in to have tea with him. I'm surprised you let her do it. My mates think he's a pervert.'
The row rumbled on for ages and Russell slipped away, smiling quietly to himself. Georgia could almost hear him thinking, âmy work here is done'. He had succeeded in diverting all the flak from himself to Georgia, who was now suspected of a clandestine friendship with a dirty old man. A broken ornament was hardly a comparable offence.
But it was to Georgia. She knew that Russell had broken it on purpose. She also knew that Mr Goldsmith wasn't the sort of person Russell had made him out to be and she answered Maura and Ralph's questions distractedly, much more concerned about the talisman. Would it still work if it were mended in the way Maura had suggested?
âLook,' she said eventually, exasperated. âWhy don't you come and meet him? He's a perfectly nice old man and we talk about stuff like the Etruscans and the horse race in Siena. There's nothing sinister about that, is there?'
Maura sighed. âIt often starts like that, Georgia. A paedophile will “groom” a prospective victim by giving her presents and seeming to be harmless.'
âMr Goldsmith isn't a paedophile!' shouted Georgia. âAnd he hasn't given me presents â only biscuits. Why don't you ever listen to me? I saved up and
bought
the horse. And now Russell has broken it and you won't even do anything to him. Mr Goldsmith is my friend. Practically the only one I've got.' At least in this world, she thought.
Niccolò took Falco back to the summer palace in his carriage. It grieved him to part with his youngest son again so soon. But if that was what would make the boy happy, he would go along with it. And Falco did seem much more cheerful, chatting happily to his father about Gaetano's trip to Bellezza and the state visit of the Duchessa for the Stellata.
âDo you think she'll like him, Papa?' he asked. âI don't see why she wouldn't â he's so nice.'
âLiking him doesn't come into it,' said the Duke. âIt's a question of whether she likes the other terms of the offer.'
Falco knew his father too well to ask what the other terms were. âDo you think she's looking forward to the race?' he asked instead.
âHow could she not?' said Niccolò. âIt's the big moment of the Reman year â what the whole city lives and breathes for.'
Falco had seen every Stellata from the year he was five to the year he was eleven. Since the accident, though, he hadn't had the heart to watch twelve healthy young men race round the Campo on magnificent horses.
âYou will let me bring you back for the race, won't you?' said Niccolò. âYou said you'd see it this year and I'm sure it would do you good. You can sit on the stage with your brothers and me and your uncle and our honoured guests.'
âYes, Papa, I'll come,' said Falco, but his heart was heavy, knowing he might not be in Talia by the time of the race.
*
Raffaella was an unexpected guest at Paolo's house when Cesare, Luciano and Doctor Dethridge returned from Santa Fina. They had no good news to report. And the female Manoush seemed to know of their trouble already.
âAurelio sent me,' she said simply. âHe said you might need help.'
âHas the harpist second sight?' asked Paolo.
âHe sees what others do not,' said Raffaella, âeven though he can't see what others do.'
âTell her,' said Luciano. âWe can trust the Manoush.'
âSomething precious of ours has gone missing,' said Paolo. âA horse of a special nature. She is only a week old but much bigger than an ordinary horse of that age. She has the gift of flight.'
Raffaella went quite still. âA zhou volou?' she said reverently. âYou have one?'
âWe
had
one,' said Cesare bitterly.
âIt was our good omen,' said Paolo. âBorn in the Ram and destined to bring us good luck, we hope. Now, things are different. Someone may have stolen the luck.'
âThen it will turn to ill for them,' said Raffaella. âWith your permission, I shall put the word out among our people. We have family everywhere in the region; someone may have seen something.'
âHow do you know about this kind of horse?' asked Luciano.
âWe know about all kinds of horses,' said Raffaella. âThe zhou volou is a good omen for the Manoush too.'
Cesare hesitated. âForgive me for asking,' he said, âbut if your people value the flying horse, would they return her to the Ram?'
Raffaella looked at him gravely. âWe are not horse-thieves,' she said. âEven of ordinary horses. The winged one would be a sacred creature to us and we would return it to its proper guardians.'
âI'm sorry,' said Cesare. âI want to trust you, but I'm just so worried about Merla. I helped deliver her.'
âI understand,' said Raffaella. âI would feel the same.'
*
It had not been easy, stealing the flying horse. Enrico had hidden in the bushes again at midnight while Diego let the filly exercise her wings high up above the stable yard. The lunge was even longer than before and it did tend to get entangled in tree branches. At one such moment, Enrico had crept from his hiding-place and cut through the leather, holding tight on to the part that was still linked to the flying horse.
This had made her tug harder against the restraint of the much shorter length of lunge, which made it more difficult to lead her away from the stable. Enrico had to guide her from many feet below, till she was flying over a field where he could gently reel her in till she stood on firm ground again. And all the time it was impossible to see her against the starless sky. She folded her strong black pinions and stood shivering, while Enrico spoke soothingly to her and draped a blanket over her tell-tale wings.
But now Enrico was well established at Santa Fina. His note from the Duke had gained him entry into the di Chimici summer palace, where he had a very comfortable room with all the food and drink he could consume. He had smuggled the black filly into a stall in the stables, where he quickly made friends with Nello, the Duke's head groom. Nello was well aware of his master's nature, so when a strange man turned up in the middle of the night with an obviously stolen horse, he didn't turn a hair. Even when he saw what kind of horse it was. The other servants were equally discreet about the new visitor; it didn't pay to ask too many questions where the Duke's affairs were concerned.
Enrico explored the palace, amazed by the sheer number of rooms and the size of the staircases.
âDia!' he exclaimed to himself. âI had no idea just how rich these di Chimici were.'
Today the palace was buzzing with activity. A message had come to say that the Duke was bringing his youngest son back to the palace for a few weeks. Falco was a great favourite with the household because of his sweet nature and angelic looks and the tragedy of his situation. The cook was bustling around making his favourite dishes and the maids were cleaning his bedroom and dusting all the formal rooms so that there should be nothing for the Duke to find fault with.
Enrico was watching from the loggia above the main entrance when the carriage came into view on the road from Remora. He decided to make himself scarce until the Duke had established his son in his quarters. He headed back out to the stables to check up on his prize. Actually, he was avoiding contact with young Falco; Nello had told him all about the accident and Enrico, who would slide a blade between a man's ribs without a second thought, if he was being paid enough, was squeamish about illness and physical defects, especially in children.
Georgia lay on her bed, clutching the broken horse, tears scalding her cheeks. In the last twenty-four hours her world seemed to have collapsed. She wished for the millionth time that she had stravagated on Tuesday night instead of wimping out. Now she didn't know if she would ever be in Talia again. And Russell had got away with his mean trick and was spreading vile rumours about an innocent friendship. How did he do that? He was in the wrong, no question about that, but she was the one that Ralph and Maura were arguing about downstairs. How she hated him!
She thought of Gaetano and Cesare and Luciano and how they treated her with respect and affection. Falco too. And lately she had caught him looking at her with something more in his expression. There was her new friend Alice at school too. They had started having lunch together regularly and had met a few times after school. It felt good to have a female friend again. If it weren't for Russell, her life would definitely be improving. Now she just felt trapped, unable to escape from the strain of living in the same house with someone so hateful. And she wouldn't even be able to visit Mr Goldsmith if Russell succeeded in his scare campaign.
Suddenly she wished she were a di Chimici, with the money and the power to have her enemies eliminated. She wouldn't have hesitated at that moment to send an assassin to Russell's room. Then she was horrified at her own thoughts. So that was what it was like to be someone like the Duke! The only difference between them was that he
did
have the power and money. Georgia felt ashamed.
There was a knock on her door.
âGeorgia,' Maura called softly. âCan I come in?'
âMy Lord!' came a whisper from behind the Duke. By a strong effort of will, he managed not to jump but turned round slowly.
âAh!' said Niccolò, letting the breath hiss out between his teeth when he saw who it was. âYou are getting better at this.'