City of Flowers (10 page)

Then he had second thoughts and moved the tabby down to his feet; it would never do for Brother Tino to turn up in the friary with a miniature tiger in tow.

As soon as he arrived in Saint-Mary-among-the-Vines, Sky could see from the light that it was about midday. Sulien wasn't in his cell or the laboratory or the pharmacy. Sky wandered out into the cloisters; all was eerily quiet. He could hear the faint sound of chanting coming from the church.

And then a messenger burst into the Great Cloister from the yard. He took Sky for a novice and grabbed him by the arm.

‘Where is Brother Sulien? He is urgently needed in the Via Larga – Duke Niccolò has been poisoned!'

*

Sandro was having his lunch bought for him in a tavern near the market. The Eel was in an expansive mood, as a result of soup and pasta and a large quantity of red wine.

‘The Duke is up to something,' he was saying. ‘You mark my words, Sparrow. There'll be an announcement soon.'

A flutter of movement in the corner of the market caught Sandro's eye. Black and white robes flapped as two figures ran through the square at an undignified pace.

‘Look,' said Sandro. ‘There go Sulien and Tino. What on earth can they be doing?'

‘Only one way to find out,' slurred the Eel, throwing silver on the table. ‘Come on!'

The two spies, master and boy, hurried after the friars. It was clear where they were heading. The great palazzo on the Via Larga almost backed on to the market and the square provided a short cut to it from the friary.

By the time Sulien and Sky had reached the palazzo gates, a small knot of people had gathered outside; news travelled fast in Talia and the rumours were already flying. The Duke was dead, the di Chimici had all been poisoned; the weddings were off.

Sky hadn't had any time to think. When the Duke's servant had arrived with his alarming news, Sky had found Sulien in the church and hurried with him to the pharmacy to collect bottles of medicine, before running all the way to the di Chimici palazzo. Now another servant led them, panting, up the great staircase to the Duke's bedroom, where he had been carried after his collapse.

The room had a foul stench of vomit and the figure on the bed was thrashing around on soiled sheets, in paroxysms of agony. His sons stood beside him wringing their hands, though the only one Sky recognised was Prince Gaetano. And he supposed the young woman trying to bathe the Duke's face was his daughter Princess Beatrice.

Brother Sulien took command as soon as he entered the room.

‘Who was with the Duke when the poisoning took place?'

‘I was,' said one of the young men. ‘We were having lunch together.'

‘Did you eat the same things?' asked Sulien, who had already crossed to the Duke and was trying to take his pulse.

‘I didn't have the mushrooms,' said the prince, ‘I don't like them. But Father had some.'

‘And when did the signs of poisoning come on?'

‘Almost immediately. He complained of stomach pains while we were eating some fruit. And then he started to vomit.'

‘Can you hold him down, please?' said Brother Sulien. ‘I'd like to examine his eyes.'

Sky was impressed by how the friar was taking over; there were no ‘your Highnesses' or ceremonious bows. He could see that speed was essential if the Duke's life were to be saved.

‘I'll need clean linen and plenty of water heated up,' said the friar, after looking into the Duke's eyes, which kept rolling alarmingly back into his head. ‘And warm coverings.'

He sniffed the bowl by the Duke's bed. ‘Open the windows and air the room,' he ordered.

Princes and servants alike hurried to do the friar's bidding.

‘Will he live?' asked the princess, pleading.

‘It is not certain,' said Sulien. ‘But if he can be saved I promise I shall do it. Now, Tino, hand me the phial with the purple liquid.'

Sky rummaged in the bag and found the right phial.

‘I'll need a small glass of clean drinking water,' said Sulien, and Beatrice poured the water with an unsteady hand.

The friar took the stopper from the phial and added four or five drops of the dark purple tincture to the water, which turned a purplish black. It reminded Sky of the water he cleaned his paintbrushes in at school.

‘He has to drink all this,' said Sulien. ‘It's not going to be easy.'

The Duke was still racked with spasms and his teeth were bared in a ghastly rictus. It took all three princes and Sky to hold him still while the friar forced the purple liquid into his mouth. Niccolò struggled like a wild cat and Sky wondered if he thought he were being poisoned anew. After what he had heard from Sandro, the awful thought crossed Sky's mind that Sulien might actually be trying to finish the Duke off. But he thrust it away again as he watched the Stravagante straddling the poisoned Duke on the bed, determined to get the antidote into the Duke's failing body.

Within minutes Niccolò di Chimici's struggles ceased and the whole room seemed to be holding its breath. The friar got off the bed and smoothed his robes down. The glass was empty.

‘You can let him go now,' said Sulien. The princes rested their father back gently against the pillows. His white hair was plastered to his head and his eyes were staring, the pupils hugely dilated, but he lay still and the spasms seemed to have stopped.

‘It is a miracle,' said Princess Beatrice, crossing herself.

‘Just science,' said Sulien. ‘I have given him extract of belladonna to calm the spasms. The poison was one of the muscarines found in some species of mushrooms. He will need rest, and no nourishment but water and some warm milk for twenty-four hours. You must see that he is washed and given clean linen and kept warm and that the room is well aired.'

‘Of course,' said Beatrice. ‘I shall wash him myself.'

Brother Sulien motioned to the princes to follow him into the next room, while the princess and servants fussed around the now apparently sleeping Duke. Sky followed his master, still dazed by what he had taken part in.

‘We are eternally grateful to you, Brother,' said the handsomest of the princes, rather stiffly but with genuine emotion.

‘Thank you, your Highness,' said Sulien, reverting to the usual courtesies. ‘May I present my assistant, Brother Celestino? Tino, this is Prince Fabrizio, the Duke's heir, and this is Prince Carlo, his brother. Prince Gaetano you have already met.'

Sky bowed to each in turn and they to him. ‘We are grateful to you too, for your help,' said Prince Fabrizio.

Prince Carlo suddenly slumped into a chair. ‘I thought he was going to die,' he said, dropping his head in his hands. ‘It was terrible to see him.'

‘Who made the dish with the mushrooms, your Highness?' asked Sulien gravely.

‘I don't know,' said Carlo. ‘I assumed it was made in the kitchens.'

‘And who served it? Does the Duke not use tasters?'

‘Usually,' said Gaetano. ‘Did he today, Carlo?'

His brother shook his head. ‘We lunched alone, with only one servant.'

‘Which one?' asked Fabrizio.

Carlo shook his head as if trying to clear it. ‘I don't know. I don't think I noticed.'

Sky wondered what it must be like to have so many servants that you didn't notice which one was on duty. Did these princes even know the names of any of the palace servants?

‘We must find out,' said Gaetano. ‘And about who cooked the dish. Could it have been an accident, Brother Sulien?'

‘It is not impossible,' said the friar. ‘Mushrooms are treacherous. You would need to know when and where they were gathered or whether they were bought from the market. But it is also possible that muscarine was introduced into the dish in the kitchens or by a servant, using ordinary mushrooms to disguise the taste.'

‘The Nucci are behind this, without doubt,' said Prince Fabrizio, still white-faced with shock.

‘Your Highness knows best,' said Sulien calmly. ‘But I should think that it would be wise to conduct some investigations among the palace household before any public accusations are made.'

‘Quite right.' Fabrizio nodded. ‘It shall be done.'

‘What else must we do for Father?' asked Gaetano.

‘I shall leave this phial,' said Sulien. ‘Three drops only, in water, to be given night and morning. No more. I shall return tomorrow to see how the Duke progresses.'

‘Saint-Mary-among-the-Vines will be the richer for your work here today,' said Prince Fabrizio, shaking the friar's hand.

*

Sandro and the Eel got through the palazzo gate easily enough but a guard barred their way up to the Duke's chamber. So they had to cool their heels in the courtyard with the bronze nude statue. Enrico was consumed with curiosity about his master's state.

‘Why did they let that friar up?' he fumed, pacing up and down. ‘And that greenhorn of a novice, your friend, when they won't let me anywhere near him?'

It was about half an hour before Sulien and Sky came down the grand marble staircase.

‘What happened?' Enrico asked eagerly. ‘How is the Duke?'

‘He will live,' said Sulien. ‘At least, this time. He was poisoned by a dish of mushrooms.'

Sandro remembered the discussion he had overheard between Camillo Nucci and the monk from Volana. He decided to tell Enrico as soon as he could.

‘Can I see the Duke?' asked Enrico.

‘I can't say,' said Sulien. ‘That is up to his guards and the family. But he is sleeping now. I don't think he will see anyone for a while.'

Enrico set off, determined to try his luck with the guards again, but told Sandro to wait in the courtyard. Sulien went over to the fountain to splash cold water on his face.

Sky whispered to Sandro, ‘You see he is no poisoner. He saved the Duke's life with something called belladonna. It stopped the spasms straightaway.'

Sandro was looking at him oddly.

‘What?' asked Sky.

‘Nothing,' said Sandro. ‘Only belladonna is a poison, too. Deadly nightshade is its other name. I'm just wondering why Brother Sulien had a supply of it to hand.'

Chapter 8

Two Households, Both Alike in Dignity

Sky was silent over a late Saturday breakfast, wondering what on earth he should tell Nicholas about what had just happened in Giglia. How would
he
feel if someone brought him news of his mother from another world and he had to hear that she had been poisoned?

‘How's the fencing going?' asked Rosalind.

‘Fine,' said Sky, snapping out of his reverie. ‘It was really good, actually. I mean, I wasn't very good, but Nicholas thinks I can be if I train hard.'

‘Is he serious about teaching you?' she asked. ‘If you're really keen, shouldn't we get you some paid lessons?'

‘It's very expensive, Mum, and he's very good,' said Sky. ‘We're lucky that he's willing to do it for free.'

Sky got up and cleared the breakfast away, automatically loading the dishwasher and wiping the table. Then he checked Remedy's food and water bowl.

‘What will you have for lunch?' he asked, opening the fridge. ‘I'm going to meet Nicholas for another lesson – shall I make you a sandwich to eat later?'

‘No, darling. I'm all right today. I can make something myself when I'm hungry.'

Sky looked at his mother. It was true; she did seem all right. He sat down at the table again, taking one of her hands in his.

‘Are you really all right? You do seem a lot better.'

His mother nodded. ‘I don't know why, but I feel as if I am coming to the end of a long tunnel. And it has been a long one, hasn't it? I don't know what I would have done without you.'

Sky escaped to meet Nicholas at the local gym, not wanting to stay and listen to her gratitude. If his life had stayed normal, he would have been feeling light-hearted now. His mother was getting better, the days were warming up and it would be the Easter holidays in a few weeks. But as a Stravagante, he found everything getting complicated. He had seen the most powerful man in Talia nearly die from poisoning and he was no longer sure who could be trusted.

It was a matter of honour to Camillo Nucci, the eldest of the young generation of his family, to loathe every di Chimici, and it was his dearest wish to avenge the murder of his uncle Donato, which had happened before he was born. His father, Matteo, was the richest Nucci so far and had commissioned the most splendid palace on the far side of the river, mainly to annoy Duke Niccolò. It was bigger than either the Palazzo di Chimici in the Via Larga or the grand Palazzo Ducale in the city's main square.

The Nucci were as old a family as the di Chimici and nearly as rich. But the two clans had been at war for as long as anyone could remember. It had most likely begun two hundred years previously when the first Alfonso di Chimici had been friends with the first Donato Nucci. The two young men had both courted the same young woman, the beautiful Semiramide. She was as haughty as she was lovely and the two suitors were less highly born than her.

It was the time when the two families were accumulating their first fortunes, the Nucci from wool and the di Chimici from distilling perfume. Each young man brought a gift for Semiramide. Donato's was a woollen shawl, warm and soft but not particularly elegant. Alfonso's was a crystal phial of lily cologne.

Semiramide was vain, it was summer, the shawl was set aside, the perfume applied to her wrists, and Alfonso's suit was favoured. For generations afterwards, when a Nucci met a di Chimici in the street, one would hold his nose and the other bleat like a sheep. The di Chimici's star rose rapidly; the money they made selling their perfumes and lotions brought them such riches that they were soon acting as bankers to half the royal houses of Europa and charging high interest on their loans.

Alfonso died in his sixties and his eldest son, Fabrizio, declared himself Duke of Giglia within eighteen months. The Nucci's fortune grew too and their acres of sheep farms ensured their continuing prosperity. But they could never catch up with the di Chimici, who gave themselves airs and wore fine clothes and acquired titles the way other men bought boots.

The Nucci could have rallied their supporters to form some kind of opposition to the di Chimici in Giglia. But they chose instead to brood over their wrongs and school their young people in hatred of the perfumiers and bankers.

Still, they were almost social equals, being richer than any other Giglian family, and it seemed as if the old enmities would be forgotten when young Donato was offered the hand of Eleanora di Chimici. But the original feud sprang up again a hundred times more fiercely after the insult to Eleanora and Donato's murder.

So it was with undisguised pleasure that Camillo received the news of the Duke's poisoning. His informant was a man who had removed his di Chimici servant's livery and run straight from the Via Larga to the Nucci's old palazzo.

‘You stayed to see him taken ill?' pressed Camillo.

‘Yes,' said the man. ‘I served him with the mushrooms myself, the young prince having none, as you said would be the case. Then, when the main course was cleared and they were eating fruit, the Duke started to clutch his stomach. I waited until the vomiting began, then thought I should make myself scarce.'

‘They will investigate the cook first, I don't doubt,' said Camillo. ‘I should not like to be in his shoes.' He handed over a purse full of silver. ‘Well done. And now I suggest you should take a little holiday – perhaps in the mountains – for a few weeks.'

*

Camillo would not have been so happy if he had seen Duke Niccolò a few hours later, sitting up in bed in a snowy nightshirt, his eyes glittering and his mind and body unimpaired.

His sons were around him and his daughter waited on his every need, but there was to be no deathbed scene – not this time.

‘What did the cook say?' he asked Fabrizio.

‘He swore that the mushrooms came from his usual supplier and were wholesome when he sent up the dish,' said the prince.

‘And did you torture him to make sure his answer was honest?' asked the Duke, as he might have said, ‘Are you sure it's not raining?'

‘Yes, Father,' said Fabrizio. ‘Not personally, of course, and not much. It was clear he was telling the truth. He has been in the family's service a long time.'

‘No one is incorruptible,' said the Duke. ‘No one. But I expect you are right. What about the footman?'

‘No one has seen him since the meal was served,' said Prince Carlo. ‘It is most likely that the poison was introduced by him. We have men out searching the city.'

‘And what are they looking for?' said the Duke. ‘A man. That's all we could remember about him, isn't it?'

Carlo was silent.

‘Let us waste no more time on the servant,' said the Duke. ‘It is the master we want. I know I have many enemies, but this is not the work of the Stravaganti. Their methods are more subtle. It is to the house of Nucci that we must look for the origin of this attempt on my life.' He looked ready to leap out of bed and bring the culprit to book himself.

‘Rest now, Father,' said Beatrice. ‘You are still weak and must sleep in order to recover your strength.'

‘Don't we need some proof before accusing the Nucci?' asked Prince Gaetano. ‘It is only a guess that they were behind it.'

‘Find proof, then,' snapped the Duke. ‘But in the meantime, if I still have three sons loyal to their father, I shall expect this crime to be avenged.'

Sky waited till he and Nicholas were showering after their fencing lesson before telling him about the Duke. It was the only time he could be sure Georgia wouldn't be around. He didn't think she would approve of his passing on such disturbing news.

‘Poisoned?' said Nicholas, standing still under the spray. ‘Is he all right?'

‘Yes,' said Sky. ‘He's going to be fine. Brother Sulien gave him an antidote.'

‘But who did it?'

Sky shrugged. ‘No one knows.'

‘It was the Nucci, I bet,' said Nicholas, as they towelled themselves in the changing room. ‘I can't bear it. I must go there.'

‘To Giglia?' said Sky, surprised.

Nicholas sighed. ‘But I can't, can I? My talisman comes from Remora and would take me to the City of Stars. I could ride to Giglia from there but it would take me at least half a day and I'd have to get back to Remora in the same day to stravagate back here.' He tugged his wet hair in frustration. ‘And it's not that easy, going back. But I must. It drives me mad to think of my family in danger. What if someone tried to kill Gaetano?'

Carlo didn't consult his brothers. He took a dagger from the chest in his room and hid it down the side of his suede boot. Running down the steps of the palazzo, he bumped into the man he knew Duke Niccolò used as a spy.

‘Come with me,' Carlo hissed at him. ‘Take me to where the Nucci will be.'

Enrico knew vendetta when he saw it. He made no attempt to calm or dissuade the prince. If a di Chimici wanted to kill a Nucci that was family business. If Enrico could help they would be grateful, and whether the attempt failed or succeeded, he would have a hold over another di Chimici family member.

The two men left the palazzo, trailed by an inconspicuous street boy. The Eel recognised his young apprentice and smiled to himself; it wouldn't hurt at all to have another witness.

The Nucci would be at their palazzo near Saint-Mary-among-the-Vines, Enrico thought, though that was a bad place to carry out revenge. He recommended waiting nearby till one came out. It was nearly dusk, and once the torches were lit, all of Giglia's fashionable families would dress in their best and join in the ‘passeggiata' round the city's main squares.