Magicians of Caprona - Diana Wynne Jones [77]
“Good man, Carlo,” said the Duke. “About the one good man she hasn’t got rid of.”
The noise diminished a little as the coach went down to the river and the Piazza Martia—at least, Angelica and Tonino guessed that was where it was; they found they were too small to see any great distance. They could tell they were on the Old Bridge, by the rumble under the wheels and the little shuttered houses on either side. The Duke several times craned around, whistled and shook his head, but they could not see why. They recognized the Cathedral, when the coach wheeled towards it across the cobbles, because it was so huge and snowy white. Its great bell was still tolling. A large crowd, mostly of women and children, was slowly moving towards its door. As the coach drew up, it was near enough for Tonino and Angelica to see the Arch bishop of Caprona in his spreading robes, standing at the door, sprinkling each person with holy water and murmuring a blessing.
“Now there’s a brave man,” said the Duke. “I wish I could do as well. Look, I’ll pop you two out of this door and then get out of the other one and keep everyone busy while you get up on the dome. Will that do?” He had the door nearest the Cathedral open as he spoke.
Tonino and Angelica felt lost and helpless. “But what shall we do?”
“Climb up there and read out those words,” said the Duke. He leaned down, encircled them with his warm wet hands, and planted them out on the cold cobbles. They stood shivering under the vast hoop of the coach wheel. “Be sensible,” he whispered down to them. “If I ask the Archbishop to put up ladders, she’ll guess.” That of course was quite true. They heard him surge to the other door and that door crash open.
“He always does everything so hugely,” Angelica said.
“People of Caprona!” shouted the Duke. “I’ve come here to be with you in your hour of sorrow. Believe me, I didn’t choose what has happened today—”
There was a mutter from the crowd, even a scatter of cheering. “He’s doing it quite well,” said Angelica.
“We’d better do our bit,” said Tonino. “There’s only us left now.”
Chapter 15
Tonino and Angelica pattered over to the vast marble cliff of the Cathedral and doubtfully approached a long, sloping buttress. That was the only thing they could see which gave them some chance of climbing up. Once they were close to it, they saw it was not difficult at all. The marble looked smooth, but, to people as small as they were, it was rough enough to give a grip to their hands and feet.
They went up like monkeys, with the cold air reviving them. The truth was that, though they had had an eventful morning, it had also been a restful and stuffy one. They were full of energy and they weighed no more than a few ounces. They were scarcely panting as they scampered up the long cold slope of the lowest dome. But there the rest of the Cathedral rose before them, a complicated glacier of white and rose and green marble. They could not see the Angel at all.
Neither of them knew which way to climb next. They hung on to a golden cross and stared up. And there, brown-black hair and white fur hurtled up to them. Gold eyes glared and blue eyes gazed. A black nose and a pink nose dabbed at them.
“Benvenuto!” shouted Tonino. “Did you—?”
“Vittoria!” cried Angelica, and threw her arms round the neck of the white cat.
But the cats were hasty and very worried. Things tumbled into their heads, muddled, troubled things about Paolo and Renata, Marco and Rosa. Would Tonino and Angelica please come on, and hurry!
They began an upward scamper which they would never have believed possible. With the cats to guide them, they raced up long lead groins, and over rainbow buttresses, like dizzy bridges, to higher domes. Always the cats implored them to hurry, and always they were there if the footing was difficult. With his hand on Benvenuto’s wiry back, Tonino went gaily up marble glacis and through tiny drain-holes hanging over huge drops, and raced up high curving surfaces, where the green marble ribs of a dome seemed as tall as a wall