The Painted War (14 page)

The streets of La Luminosa were bright with lamps and torches and crowded with people as Bianca ran past. She overtook a phalanx of guards in shining armour and a ragtag bunch of volunteers wearing whatever protective clothing they could get their hands on – leather blacksmith's aprons, stiff woollen cloaks, ancient and rusty chainmail. They carried old axes, boat oars and butcher's knives.

‘Unarmed citizens are to take to the canals,' cried a young page on a street corner as Bianca sprinted past. He was pointing a frightened-looking man holding two small children towards a boat moored up nearby. ‘The boats will take you across the bay to San Marino. You'll be safe on the island as long as we hold the city.'

There was a metallic clanging and Bianca had to dodge out of the way as the crowd in front of her parted to reveal an old woman hitting a frying pan with a wooden spoon, yelling, ‘Knives sharpened here!' She was standing next to an even older man who was bent over a knife-sharpening wheel, grinding an axe until its blunt edges looked deadly once again.

There was a quiet roar of nervous chatter, orders being passed along, children crying and tearful farewells-for-now, but Bianca didn't hear any actual sounds of battle. Yet.

‘Cavalry go around by the Via del Luce!' One guard just outside the Museum Piazza was standing on a pile of boxes, directing the forces. ‘Pikemen and spears to the front, let them through! Swords, knives and clubs go around to the right and await orders from Lieutenant Forza.' He took off his helmet and Bianca saw that he was young, barely older than Cosimo. He took a deep breath, shoved his helmet back on his head, and yelled out, ‘God bless the Duchess!'

‘God bless the Duchess!' the crowd replied. ‘God bless Her Highness!'

Bianca stopped in her tracks, feeling sick. There was still no Duchess – nobody to lead La Luminosa into battle. Bianca had failed to find her.

As soon as Bianca entered the Museum Piazza, she heard the banging. It was coming from inside the museum. She slipped easily through the lines of soldiers and volunteers and climbed up onto the fountain in the middle of the piazza. The museum doors and windows had all been boarded up with thick, heavy oak boards – some of them were water-worn and Bianca wondered if they'd been torn out from the docks. The boards rattled and brick dust flew out in clouds as the Oscuritan forces inside the museum bashed at the doors – trying to get out and attack.

The army that was coming through the paintings was surrounded, penned in inside the museum – but Bianca feared that wouldn't hold them for long. They still badly outnumbered the La Luminosan army. More Oscuritan soldiers could simply keep pouring through until they were overwhelmed.

In front of the building, Captain Raphaeli gleamed in his full golden plate armour. He was riding an enormous brown horse that was almost as armoured as he was. He trotted along the front line of the La Luminosan defence, his helmet under his arm, calling out orders and encouragement to his subordinates.

Bianca stared at him – his slightly beak-like nose, his noble bearing, and his thick curly hair.

Captain Raphaeli was her father. There was no more doubt in her mind. Even without a clear picture of his face, he was unmistakeably the man in the
storia
her mother had painted.

Bianca's heart lurched. How could she tell him?

I'm your daughter. You're my father. The woman you married twelve years ago in secret is my mother  …  and she's the rightful Duchess of Oscurita  … 

The museum doors splintered, and the La Luminosan forces visibly recoiled, all of the volunteers and several of the soldiers taking half a step back.

‘Stand your ground!' Captain Raphaeli shouted, turning his horse and drawing his sword. ‘Defend your homes!'

‘Captain, why don't we burn the museum?' asked one of the young soldiers nearby. ‘We've got them trapped!'

‘No,' snapped Captain Raphaeli. ‘After everything I've gone through to save the art in there, I won't burn it all now!' Bianca's heart swelled. ‘Anyway, the doors will be the first thing to burn, and then we definitely won't be able to contain them. We have them surrounded, there's nowhere they can go.'

Bianca jumped down from the fountain and sprinted through the crowd to the front line. Scraping her hair back from her face, she realised she shouldn't tell him anything now. She couldn't tell him that she was his daughter, and his wife was probably dead, and that she was responsible. Perhaps it would be better for him never to know, never to have his heart awakened and then broken in two.

Still, she had to say
something
to him.

‘Captain!' she shouted. ‘Captain Raphaeli!'

Raphaeli looked down, and his face drained of colour for a moment. ‘Bianca! Lady Bianca, what are you doing? You can't be here – this is a battlefield!'

Bianca ran up to him and grabbed the reins of his horse. She looked up at him, and then spoke quickly and quietly. ‘I  …  I'm so sorry. I couldn't find the Duchess. My mother hadn't heard anything about her being brought to Oscurita. She said she's probably hidden in La Luminosa. And then  …  then  … ' She couldn't do it. ‘I don't know how to find her. I'm so sorry.'

‘None of this is your fault,' Raphaeli said. ‘It's because of you we even have this number of fighters. If you hadn't warned us when the passages first reopened, we'd be overwhelmed.' He shook his head. ‘If only we'd had more time to train some of these volunteers. They don't know how to follow orders – they'll just listen to whoever shouts loudest.'

‘It should be the Duchess leading them into battle,' said Bianca.

‘You're right.' Captain Raphaeli's horse danced a few steps away as the Oscuritans bashed into the museum doors again. Raphaeli didn't blink. ‘I hate the idea of her fighting in battle, but she'd be worth twenty soldiers if she was here. I had some people climb up to the high windows on the museum and look inside. Edita's in there on a black charger, and her people are clearly rallied around her.'

‘Is it  …  is it hopeless?' Bianca asked.

‘Nothing is hopeless,' Captain Raphaeli said firmly. ‘But I'd give my right arm for a hundred more soldiers,' he added. ‘Or for Duchess Catriona to be here. Even Filpepi's painted doll would do! The people need to see what they're fighting for.'

An idea hit Bianca so hard she almost rocked back on her heels from the force of it. ‘Filpepi's painted Duchess  … ' she breathed. She looked up at the Captain – at her father – and forced a smile. ‘I think I have a plan,' she said.

‘Be careful, Bianca!' Captain Raphaeli called after her as she turned and ran off. ‘Keep away from the fighting!'

Bianca hurried out of the crowd and out of the piazza, pausing as she passed the young guard who was still giving orders to new arrivals. She caught her breath and stared up at the stars, trying to think her plan through.

If Filpepi can bring paintings to life, I can too. I can make new soldiers.

But it was all very well to know that it was
possible
. She had to be practical. The best supply of paint and tools was, by far, di Lombardi's secret workshop. But how could she get there? All the paintings were in the museum, and even if she could get into the passages, they would be swarming with Oscuritan soldiers. She could fly in through the skylight, if she sprouted wings – the flying machine was still inside the studio.

‘Bianca!' That was Marco's voice. Bianca looked around, unable to see him at first, until suddenly the crowd parted and she spotted him waving at her. She ran over.

He was standing with his father, Master Xavier, who was carrying his big wooden staff with the round orb on the end. Bianca had never quite noticed how heavy it looked before, or how easily it could be used as a club. Most of the rest of the troupe were there too – Olivia was wearing silver-painted wooden costume armour and carrying a prop scimitar that'd been sharpened until its edge glinted, and Bianca saw the fire twins, Carmina and Valentino, and half a dozen others wielding weapons that looked like they'd been cobbled together from props and bits of staging.

‘Bianca, there you are,' said Cosimo. Bianca turned to see him standing beside the tumblers. Behind him stood Lucia, Ezio, Gennaro and Rosa. They were rather worryingly well armed with palette knives, hammers, chisels and shears.

‘Where are the other apprentices? Are they safe?'

‘They've gone to the island,' Lucia said. ‘And that's where you need to go too!'

‘I agree,' said Master Xavier. He looked down at Marco with a mixture of pride and abject terror. ‘And please take my son with you – by force, if necessary.'

‘I told you,' Marco said firmly, ‘I have to help protect the city!'

‘Actually, I do want Marco,' Bianca said. ‘Marco, where's the underwater craft?'

‘Still moored up by the Bridge of Cats,' said Marco.

‘Can we use it to get into the secret workshop?'

Marco's face lit up. ‘Yes! We can go in through the trapdoor into the canal!'

‘We need to go, right now – I'll explain later.'

Master Xavier still looked concerned. ‘Just be careful in that thing. Despite what Marco tells me, being stuck in a sealed vessel at the bottom of a canal doesn't sound safe.'

He and Olivia gathered Marco into a tight three-way hug. Bianca ran forward and gave each of the apprentices a huge hug in turn – even Lucia – although she saved her hardest squeeze for Cosimo.

‘Good luck,' she said.

She grabbed Marco's hand and dragged him back down the street towards the Bridge of Cats.

‘What are you going to do?' Marco asked, running the length of di Lombardi's workshop with an armful of more wicked-looking tools that could be used as weapons, and loading them into the underwater craft.

Bianca was mixing paints frantically, creating the strongest
animare
she could. She already had two large jars of glowing liquid that sloshed and jumped around the jars with a mind of its own, but she had a feeling there was something missing.

‘I can't paint a whole army,' she muttered. ‘To paint a soldier that's convincing enough for the
animare
to lift it off the page – I don't have that kind of time. And even if I could get the painted men out of the painting, they'd only be able to follow moves I made with the brush.'

Bianca almost dropped her paintbrush as a mad idea flashed into her mind.

‘Marco,' she said softly. Marco looked up. ‘I'm going to do something a little bit mad. It might be dangerous. I  …  have no idea if I can undo it.'

‘You're going to make soldiers out of paint!' Marco cried.

‘Not paint  …  Sculptures.'

Marco look confused. Then, when he realised what she meant, his dark eyebrows lowered in a questioning frown.

‘You
can
enchant sculptures. I've seen it in Oscurita!' Bianca said, seeing his expression. She walked, slowly, back over to the paint-mixing bench and looked at her three batches of
animare,
swirling in their jars. Then she found a sharp scalpel and pushed it into the top of her finger. She winced as she felt a sharp pain, and her finger started bleeding.

Bianca gingerly unscrewed the lids from the
animare
pots and one by one she added a single drop of her own blood to the mixture. The
animare
leapt, spat, and gave off a piercing bright blue light.

‘Woah,' said Marco. ‘Let's try it!' He grabbed a small clay statue of an angel, about the length of Bianca's forearm – a study for a larger version, Bianca thought – and ran over to her table with it. Bianca dipped her brush in the violently churning
animare
and then touched it to the angel's forehead.

A shimmer ran over the clay and the angel beat its wings and blinked. It looked around, as if puzzled to find itself suddenly alive.

‘Can  …  can you understand me?' Bianca said.

The angel folded its arms and nodded.

‘
OhmyGoditworked
!' Bianca yelled.

The angel tilted its head to the side, but continued to stare intently at Bianca.

‘The city's under threat,' she told the little figurine. ‘We need you to fight. Can you do that?'

The angel hopped down off its plinth and shook the extra clay off its feet. Then it leapt into the air and flapped across the workshop to the clay-sculpting bench, where it grabbed a chisel almost as big as itself and held it like a spear.

‘Marco, load up the jars!' Bianca grinned, quickly retrieving a small vial and pouring in a portion of the dancing blue
animare
for herself. Clutching the glass container in one fist, she ran over to the lever on the wall that controlled the opening and closing of the skylight windows. Grabbing the handle, she winched it round and round until the window was open far enough for the angel to get out. ‘We'll meet you there!' she called back to Marco, as the clay sculpture shot up through the gap and vanished into the starry sky.

‘Are we in time?' Bianca asked, clinging onto the stone fur of the great black panther as it bounded through the streets, its huge marble paws striking the cobbles with a chorus of
thunks
. ‘Has the battle started?'

‘I think we made it!' Marco said, peering around General Negra's stone shoulder as her stone horse drew level with Bianca's big cat.

Ahead of them the crowd of soldiers and volunteers turned, looked back, and parted with a chorus of gasps. Several of the soldiers swore, loudly and imaginatively, and comments of ‘What on earth is that?' spread quickly as they took in the sight. The two enormous panthers from the Bridge of Cats led the pack, with General Negra and a whole troop of warlike statues of soldiers just behind. The old god of the sea lumbered after them, looking distinctly grumpy, still dripping with mud from the canal bed and with one shoe dangling from his enormous stone trident. There was a pack of stone dogs of all shapes and sizes running at his heels, and bringing up the rear, a whole flying phalanx of angels – some from grand houses and public buildings, some from the palace gardens, with their golden swords glinting in the starlight, and some with tear-streaked faces from the city cemetery. Finally, the little cat-sized dragons from the Piazza del Fiero zoomed through the air behind the angels, roaring in voices like stones grating together and trying to breathe fire.

Bianca grinned to herself as the panther led the procession of statues towards the Museum of Art. The doors were still holding, but only barely – a gang of soldiers were holding them shut, using the barriers that'd been knocked down as braces.

Captain Raphaeli looked up, saw Bianca's reinforcements, and his jaw fell.

‘Can they fight?' he asked Bianca after a second.

‘Yes, sir,' she said. She hopped down from the panther and ran towards the museum doors.

‘What are you doing now?' Raphaeli demanded.

‘Two more recruits, sir!' Bianca grinned. She whipped out the small vial of
animare
,
as well as a thick-haired paintbrush from her pocket. Dipping the brush into the glass container, she soaked up the whole portion of magical blue liquid, before daubing it on the forehead of each of the enormous stone lions that stood on either side of the museum entrance. The soldiers saw them come to life and almost let go of the door, but Raphaeli yelled at them and they managed to hold fast, even when one of the lions sat back on its haunches and dragged a stone tongue over its stone paw.

Captain Raphaeli turned to Bianca.

‘You', he said, ‘are a truly inspirational young lady.'

Bianca beamed up at her father. Then she turned to Marco. ‘C'mon,' she said, ‘we're more use searching for more statues to recruit than standing here.' Marco nodded his agreement and slid down from Negra's horse.

And then there was a great splintering and tearing. The doors to the museum finally cracked apart. A terrifying shout of triumph erupted from inside the museum. The La Luminosan soldiers jumped out of the way as the doors collapsed out onto the street.

Raphaeli drew his sword and wheeled his horse around. ‘For the Duchess!' he cried. ‘For La Luminosa!'

A great cheer went up from the soldiers all around them, and then the Oscuritan soldiers were surging out from the museum just like the water that had poured from the enchanted paintings. The sound of spear clashing on spear and the screams and the roars of triumph and despair that rose from the soldiers were almost unbearable. Bianca staggered back, her own fear hitting her far harder than she'd expected. She saw her first soldier fall – an Oscuritan. He hit the ground face down and blood ran between the cracks in the stones of the piazza.

Bianca turned and tried to sprint back through the crowd of soldiers. She had to get to the rest of the
animare
, then she could make more statue reinforcements and give La Luminosa an even better chance. But someone caught her by the shoulder and she tripped. She looked up into the shiny silver helmet of an Oscuritan soldier. He raised his spear, ready to run her through, and then there was a
clong
as the stone hooves of General Negra's horse connected with his helmet. The soldier fell back and Bianca scrambled to her feet.

Oscuritan soldiers were all around her, fighting with the La Luminosan soldiers. She saw an Oscuritan sword flash as it ran through an old man wielding a boathook. She looked away and saw two of the stone soldiers she'd awakened, fighting back to back against a whole troop of Oscuritan soldiers. Stone chips flew off the statues as the Oscuritan spears and swords hit them, but they kept on fighting.

Bianca picked herself up and tried to slip away again. The soldiers flowed back and forth like a tide and an undertow, fighting against one another and spinning her around. She didn't know where Marco was, or Raphaeli. Her hands shaking, she made a grab for a shield that'd been dropped and picked it up. She didn't feel any safer. All around her there were yells of pain and fear.

There was a sound of hooves on the stone and Bianca looked up to see Edita's black charger stomping and snorting, rearing and kicking out at soldiers who got too close. Edita herself was wielding a mace that looked like it could take someone's head right off. She slammed it into the back of one of the statues of a La Luminosan soldier. The statue splintered and shattered into stone chunks. Edita wheeled the mace around and brought it down on something Bianca couldn't see. It made a sickening
crunch
.

But Edita hadn't seen Bianca – and she didn't see the marble angels that swept out of the air and knocked her off balance. The weight of the mace itself dragged her down and she slid off the horse and vanished into the melee.

Bianca forced herself to move. She crouched behind the shield and hobbled slowly across the piazza. As she reached the fountain, she heard Captain Raphaeli's voice calling out orders and felt a rush of relief. He was still alive. She pressed herself back against the fountain's base as the La Luminosan cavalry stormed into the piazza, the horses' hooves thundering on the cobbles. Bianca looked around again for Marco, imagining him dying any number of terrible deaths in the chaos of battle. She couldn't see him, and she couldn't just stand here and wait for him either.

Got to get to where I can be useful.

She climbed up on the fountain, searching the piazza for a route out. She spotted the old god, towering above the other fighters, smashing Oscuritan soldiers with his enormous fists – then ropes were looped around his head and neck and he lost balance and crashed to the ground with a noise like a demolished building.

From her vantage point, she could see more clearly than ever that the La Luminosans were horribly outnumbered.

Bianca hopped down from the fountain and slipped between the fighters.

Just for a moment, a path opened up before her – a clear corridor. She could see the street leading away from the piazza. Down there, the underwater craft was moored. The last of the
animare
was there. If she could just –

A dark figure stepped into her path.

‘Dearest niece,' snarled Duchess Edita, and swung her mace. Bianca threw herself backwards and raised the shield just in time. Edita's mace glanced off it. Bianca yelped with pain – the mace had barely scraped the surface, but the shield had still dug hard into her arm with the weight of it.

Edita laughed and tossed back her loose dark hair. Her armour was black and luminescent, like the shell of a beetle, and it gleamed blue and green in the flickering light of the La Luminosa night lamps.

‘Let's not postpone the inevitable, darling,' she sneered as Bianca clambered to her feet. ‘With my idiot sister rotting in the catacombs with the other corpses, and little Catriona gone, you are all that stands in the way of my complete domination.'

Bianca blinked hard, refusing to shed the tears that threatened to blur her vision. She had already known her mother was dead. This changed nothing. Saralinda would want her to live.

‘Now stand still and let me crush you!' Edita swung the mace again.

Bianca
threw herself down and forward into a somersault that left her crouched at Edita's feet.
Thanks for the tip, Marco,
she thought. She stood up quickly, holding the shield over her head, and felt it connect with Edita's chin. The mace continued on its arc and Edita staggered back as it struck the floor of the piazza behind her.

‘Brat!' Edita spat, and kicked out, catching Bianca on the shin with her hard, pointy, armoured boot. Bianca screamed as she felt her own skin tear and blood trickle down her ankle. ‘You'll never be Duchess of Oscurita,
never
.'

Never wanted to be!
Bianca thought, but she didn't have the breath to shout it in Edita's face. Instead she made a desperate run for the street and the canal, dodging Edita's grasping hands.
She won't leave the battle to chase after me
, Bianca half thought, half prayed.

She was almost at the edge of the canal when she dared to glance back over her shoulder and saw that she was wrong. Edita was storming towards her, slapping aside La Luminosan soldiers who tried to stop her with powerful swings of her mace. Bianca panicked for a second, standing on the edge of the canal, unarmed and unprotected. Then she saw a winged shadow pass overhead. She didn't dare look up and draw Edita's attention to the skies  … 

‘Catriona's alive!' she shouted. ‘You said she was gone, not dead. That means she's still alive, and that means I can still save her!'

Edita stopped, alone on the street in front of Bianca. She lowered her mace, and laughed. ‘She may not be dead yet, but you can't save her. I'll smash her, just like I've smashed all of your little toy soldiers,' she crowed.

The angel overhead dived, its golden sword raised to swipe at Edita's head. Edita swung the mace. Bianca gasped as it connected with the white marble. The angel shattered in mid-air and its pieces scattered across the street between Edita and Bianca, shards and dust raining down on them like snow. Edita moved towards Bianca, swinging the mace back and forth, a horrible grin on her face.

Bianca took half a step back and let out a tiny scream as she almost fell, but managed to steady herself. Her feet were right on the edge of the canal. The stones under her were slippery with hundreds of years of moss.

Edita advanced, and Bianca had no choice but to take a step forward.

‘Say goodbye to your precious City of Light,' Edita said, and swung the mace. Bianca ducked under it and around until she was behind Edita. Holding up her shield, she shoved as hard as she possibly could.

The mace smashed into the stones of the canal bank and Edita went flying forwards. Losing her grip on the mace handle, she tripped and slid on the mossy stones, and fell into the canal with a huge
splosh
. She surfaced, gasping for air, and tried to claw her way back to land, but her black armour was weighing her down.

Bianca took hold of the mace's handle and just barely managed to work it out of the stones. While Edita was still splashing and struggling in the water, trying to release the buckles on the armour before she drowned, Bianca slowly and deliberately hefted the mace, staggered a few paces further along the canal bank, and threw it into the water. The mace sank.

Bianca watched Edita flail for a few more seconds, catching her breath and rubbing the place on her arm where the impact of the mace had hit her shield. She rather hoped that her aunt might do all the world a favour and sink under the canal surface, never to be seen again. But she was fighting – her helmet, breastplate, pauldrons and gauntlets had all come off and she was struggling with the neck-piece, which seemed to have tangled in her hair.

Bianca turned and looked back at the battle raging in the piazza, thought for a second, and then blew a sharp whistle through two fingers. There was a scream, and then the huge black stone panthers broke from the battle lines and came trotting towards Bianca. She reached out to stroke their smooth heads.

‘See that unarmed traitor? The one who's just sent all her armour to the bottom of the canal?' she said, pointing to Edita, who'd stopped struggling and was treading water, staring in horror at the big cats. ‘Watch her closely, and don't let her get away. Think of her as a mouse. If she runs, you can chase her.'

One of the cats peeled its stone lips back to reveal a stone tongue and huge, sharp white marble fangs. The other one blinked at Bianca and a rumbling sound came from its enormous chest. Its purr was something like what Bianca imagined an avalanche would sound like high up in the mountains.

‘Even without me,' Edita spat, ‘my troops will crush your pathetic toy soldiers!'

Toy soldiers  … 

Bianca stared at Edita. ‘Toy soldiers,' she repeated. ‘You said you'd
smash
Catriona, like you smashed the angel  … '

She backed away from the canal and stared at the poor angel's remains – the white marble chips, and the dust that looked a little like earth except that it was white, and when she picked it up between her thumb and forefinger it was made of tiny, sharp shards.

Just like the shards that had been in Duchess Catriona's room when she'd vanished. And just as there'd been in the horrible chamber in the Oscuritan catacombs, where the other half of the statues had all been smashed.

‘That was your plan all along,' Bianca gasped. ‘You sucked her into that statue somehow and you were going to smash it!' The shattered figures in the catacombs were all victims of the spell: real people transported into stone and destroyed by Edita.
But I won't let her smash Catriona!

Bianca knelt down by the underwater craft, opened the hatch and scooped up the jar with the last of the special
animare
still swirling in the bottom like a living thing. She shut the hatch, glanced at Edita one more time, and then she broke into a run.