City of Swords Read online

  Laura wondered what it must have been like to see your bridegroom murdered in the church. She shuddered herself.

  ‘You should know,’ continued Lucia, ‘that my father did not agree with Uncle Niccolò about our family taking over all the city-states of Talia. He was content with what we had.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Fabio. ‘And he would have stopped him?’

  ‘That I do not know,’ said Lucia. ‘But if your Brotherhood can help me to keep my title and my throne, you can be sure I will do my best to stop my cousin Fabrizio from carrying out his father’s plans.’

  She stood up, slim and straight, a slight figure, but Laura could see that she had a steely resolve and would keep her word.

  *

  A crowd had gathered outside the Palazzo della Signoria throughout the day. A few stragglers to start with and then more and more people until the whole square was seething with Fortezzans who had left their work, shut up their shops and headed instinctively to the place where their fate was going to be announced.

  Laura was among them, standing with Guido and Fabio, unsettled by the interview with Princess Lucia. She was keeping an anxious eye on the sun, which had not long to go before setting. She did not want to be stranded in Fortezza, but equally did not want to stravagate home before the big announcement.

  But as she looked around her at all the jostling people and unfamiliar faces, she couldn’t help wondering what she was doing there, so far in time and space from the life she had always known. What would it matter in Barnsbury if a city in a country that didn’t exist in her world had a princess or a prince for its ruler?

  And yet, in a very short time, it had come to matter to her.

  A herald came out and blew a single note on a silver trumpet.

  And then the twelve members of the Signoria filed out on to the steps. The crowd was silent as a man in red, who seemed to be their leader, stepped forward, holding a parchment.

  ‘That’s the Signore,’ said Fabio.

  The man in red cleared his throat. ‘Citizens of Fortezza!’ he said loudly.

  Laura noticed there was no sign of Ludo or indeed of any di Chimici.

  ‘The Signoria has investigated the claim of Ludo Vivoide, the Manoush, of … of Talia to the throne of our city. We find as follows: said Signor Vivoide is in all likelihood the true son of our late beloved Prince Jacopo.’

  There was a noise like waves crashing on the shore as the crowd released its breath all together. Some people cheered.

  The Signore held up his hand.

  ‘We also find that said Signor Vivoide is older than Princess Lucia di Chimici by over a year.’

  More cheers. It was not looking good for the Princess. Guido had his hand on his sword, Laura noticed.

  ‘However,’ said the Signore, ‘since Prince Jacopo was not married to Signor Vivoide’s mother and never acknowledged him as his son – indeed probably never knew he had a son – we find that, according to all our traditions and customs, we cannot accept Signor Vivoide’s claim to rule the city. Consequently, we declare that Lucia di Chimici is sovereign ruler of the principality of Fortezza and our legitimate Princess. The Claimant must leave the city by sunset tomorrow and not return within its walls.’

  The crowd went mad.

  Some were cheering, some were booing, all were clamouring loudly in favour of one ruler or another, shouting ‘Viva Lucia!’ or ‘Viva Ludovico!’

  Laura found that she had been clenching her fists and her jaw was stiff with tension. She tried to relax and take deep breaths but all around her was mayhem.

  ‘Come,’ said Guido. ‘We must go to the castle.’

  ‘You go,’ said Fabio. ‘I must get Laura back to my workshop. Look at the sun.’

  He was right. Frustrating as it was, Laura had to go with him to the Street of the Swordsmiths and stravagate home without knowing what was going to happen next.

  A knocking on her bedroom door woke Laura back in her own world. She had found it very difficult to relax enough to fall asleep in Fabio’s little studiolo at the back of the workshop. And when she had got back to her own bed she had fallen into such a deep sleep that she now felt horribly groggy.

  ‘Hang on,’ she said, grabbing her dressing gown. ‘OK, come in.’

  It was her mother. ‘Gracious, you were fast asleep!’ she said, taking in Laura’s tousled hair and bleary eyes. ‘Your friends are downstairs. I told them you were bound to be awake.’

  ‘Which friends?’ asked Laura, yawning.

  ‘All of them!’ said her mother. ‘You’ve become very popular all of a sudden.’

  ‘Tell them I’ll be down in a sec,’ said Laura, hoping a shower would help to wake her up.

  Ten minutes later, showered and dressed, her curly hair frizzing up from the damp, Laura found the Barnsbury Stravaganti assembled in the kitchen, together with Ayesha. It did look like a reception committee.

  Turning down her mother’s offer to make drinks for them, they all trooped off to Café@anytime, their favourite local meeting place. The owner was so used to them by now that they didn’t even have to order; he just brought their regular drinks over to their usual table.

  ‘Well?’ said Matt. ‘Spill! What’s the decision?’

  ‘For Lucia,’ said Laura, feeling suddenly tired again. ‘They said that Ludo was pretty much definitely Jacopo’s son but not legitimate, so he couldn’t inherit.’

  ‘So Cousin Lucia is to be ruler of Fortezza?’ said Nick. ‘She deserves it.’

  ‘And what does Ludo deserve?’ said Laura. ‘He didn’t ask to be born but surely he should get something.’

  ‘Surely if Lucia is “one of the good ones” she will give him something?’ said Isabel.

  ‘Is that the end of it then?’ asked Sky.

  ‘It can’t be – or Laura wouldn’t have been chosen,’ said Georgia.

  Laura skimmed a spoonful of delicious froth off her drink.

  ‘I had to come home,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen next.’

  Suddenly she felt that she couldn’t cope with any of it. The cup clattered back into her saucer.

  ‘I don’t think I can go back,’ she said.

  ‘It’s OK to take a night off,’ said Matt.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sky. ‘You must be exhausted. Have a good night’s sleep tonight and you’ll feel better.’

  ‘I don’t mean that,’ said Laura. ‘I think I don’t ever want to go back.’

  Chapter 6

  A Fresh Wound

  Rodolfo Rossi was in front of his mirrors, checking in with the other Talian Stravaganti, as he did at least once a day. His face was graver than usual as he communicated with Fabio the swordsmith in Fortezza.

  So Lucia is declared ruler? he thought-spoke. That seems as it should be.

  But there is unrest in the city, Fabio replied. And it’s spreading to the army.

  Shall I come? asked Rodolfo.

  Not yet, Maestro, but I shall keep you informed.

  Rodolfo sent a message of farewell and then started contacting the members of the Order in other citystates. It was important for them to know that they might be needed to help in a crisis.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked his wife, Silvia, entering the room as he contacted the last Stravagante.

  ‘Preparing for whatever happens in Fortezza,’ he answered.

  She came to sit beside him, resting her hand on his wrist.

  ‘Must we always be at war somewhere about something?’ she asked. ‘It is only weeks since our daughter escaped death in a sea battle. Are we never to have any rest? To live in peace and relative amity with other rulers?’

  ‘How can you ask that, you who have been Duchessa of an independent city-state and been assassinated for all the world knows?’

  ‘I’m just tired,’ said Silvia. ‘Now that you have handed over full rule to Arianna, I want to see her married to her Cavaliere so that we can retire to the country to grow olives and grapes.’

  Rod
olfo laughed and his expression softened. ‘You would die of boredom within months,’ he said. ‘Look how long you lasted in Padavia.’

  ‘But I didn’t have you with me then,’ she said. ‘It was dull being on my own.’

  ‘It was dull being away from the action,’ said Rodolfo. ‘Look how often you risked discovery coming back to Bellezza.’

  ‘But that was to see you,’ she protested.

  ‘And nothing to do with all the dangers and excitements of being in the city?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Silvia. ‘It seems silly to go on pretending to be dead and that you have married a second wife. We couldn’t even celebrate our real anniversary publicly. Don’t you think it’s time Bellezza knew the truth?’

  ‘I’m worried about Laura,’ said Isabel. ‘If she doesn’t go back to Talia, she’ll be the first one of us who has refused a task there.’

  ‘I think it’s all because of Ludo,’ said Sky. ‘She seems really keen on him and she doesn’t want to be on the opposite side to him.’

  ‘Then you’d think she’d want to see him again, wouldn’t you?’ ‘said Matt.

  ‘Not if they can’t ever be together though,’ said Georgia.

  They were all in Nick’s attic room but this time had not invited Laura to join them. After what she had said in the coffee shop that morning, they had thought it best to talk without her.

  Isabel had advised her not to stravagate that night, but to get a good night’s sleep and see how she felt once she was rested. ‘But it won’t do her any good to stop going to Talia,’ she said. ‘She’ll just end up feeling worse about everything.’

  ‘What do you think she’ll do?’ asked Nick.

  There was a tight little silence in the room, then Isabel shrugged. ‘OK, you might as well know. I think she already hurts herself. Cuts herself, I mean. I’ve suspected it for some time.’

  ‘And she travels to the City of Swords,’ said Georgia. ‘It has to be linked. It’s too much of a coincidence, especially with her talisman being that knife.’

  ‘It’s like me going to Padavia,’ said Matt. ‘It’s known as the City of Words and I’m dyslexic.’

  ‘Someone up there has a weird sense of humour,’ said Sky.

  ‘Who or what does choose us?’ asked Isabel. ‘I mean, I know about the being unhappy – we’ve talked about that – but I still don’t see how the talismans find the right person, which is what we’ve been told they do.’

  But no one had any ideas. They were still too shocked about Laura.

  The di Chimici were leaving Fortezza in a jangle of harness. Princesses Carolina and Lucia, light-hearted with relief about the Signoria’s decision, had come to the main gate in the walls to bid their noble kinsmen farewell. It was more of a wrench to part with Bianca but she had to go back with her husband to Volana.

  The Grand Duke was impressive in purple and silver brocade, with a small silver fillet round his brows standing in for the heavy grand-ducal crown. His more modest brother hung back behind him but got the warmer hand-clasp from their cousin Lucia.

  ‘Goodbye, Lucia,’ said Gaetano. ‘I hope all goes smoothly from now on but if you are ever in danger, get a message to me. And remember that Guido Parola is a good man in a tight spot.’

  ‘I’ll remember, cousin,’ said the Princess, smiling.

  She and her mother had a long embrace with Bianca.

  ‘We shall miss you most of all, sister,’ said Lucia.

  ‘Come, Filippo, Alfonso,’ said Fabrizio. ‘Part of our journey lies on the same road.’

  And quite a cavalcade set out from the city, cheered by a few loyal Fortezzans.

  ‘That’s that then,’ said Princess Carolina. ‘At last our lives can return to normal. Or at least find a new kind of normal, since your papa has left us.’

  From the top of the walls, a rusty-haired young man watched the departing princes.

  ‘They don’t think there is any reason to stay,’ he said to a soldier at his side.

  ‘And what do you think, sire?’ said the soldier.

  ‘I think they have made a mistake,’ said Ludo.

  Laura took her friends’ advice. She had a deep bath on Sunday night, then went to bed, putting the silver paperknife on her chest of drawers so that she would not be tempted to stravagate. She was asleep before the milky drink her mother had brought her had gone cold.

  She woke fully refreshed in body after a nine-hour sleep. But after she had stretched and yawned, luxuriating in how rested she felt, her brain kicked in to disturb the feeling of well-being.

  She had left Fabio without telling him she wouldn’t be back next night – or possibly ever. The city had decided on its ruler, but Laura was sure that wasn’t the end of the story. And maybe now Ludo had left to go somewhere else and she had missed her only chance to say goodbye.

  Thinking about Ludo just made her miserable. He was the only boy she had ever liked apart from Isabel’s twin, Charlie. And he wasn’t a boy; he was a man of nearly twenty-five. Seven or eight years older than her. She could just imagine what her parents would say if she told them she was going out with a man in his midtwenties. They would be bound to think the worst.

  And yet her father was seven years older than her mother. Lots of people got married with an even bigger age gap than that.

  Married! What was she thinking? She had met Ludo only twice, and you couldn’t marry or even go out with someone who lived in another universe, could you?

  You could change universes, said a little voice in her head. Nick did. No, thought Laura. This is madness.

  She showered ferociously, turning the pressure and heat up as high as she could bear it, even though she was still clean from her bath.

  Wrapped in a big, comforting towel, she sat in the armchair in her room and looked at the little knife. Could she really not go back to Talia? It seemed that it would mean only pain whether she turned her back on Fortezza or not.

  And Laura knew about pain.

  But suppose this thing with Ludo was her only chance to meet someone she liked who liked her too? It was so unfair. Tears started to seep from under her eyelids.

  Laura looked at the paperknife and with a fingertip tested its disconcertingly sharp blade. She felt an overwhelming urge to slide it across her skin. But although she knew she was going to succumb to her secret habit, Laura somehow didn’t want to involve the Talian knife. She had the weirdest feeling that if she did, Fabio would know.

  She set the paperknife down and went into her private stash of razor blades in her jewellery box.

  Just this one last time, she thought. And then it must stop. I’ll throw the razor blades away and not buy any more. I have a History exam this afternoon – I really shouldn’t do this.

  She drew the blade across her arm and immdiately, as the blood flowed, the pain about Ludo receded. There was an instantaneous feeling of relief, followed by alarm. The hot shower she had just taken was making the blood flow more freely than ever before and she couldn’t staunch it with tissues. Had she cut too deeply?

  The paper was reddening in her hands, blooming scarlet as poppies, and she was beginning to feel faint.

  ‘Mum!’ she shouted as loudly as she could before blacking out.

  In an upstairs room in Fortezza, Ludo was meeting with a group of soldiers and citizens.

  One of the soldiers – the one who had watched with the Manoush while the di Chimici departed the city – was very senior in the Fortezzan army. In fact he was second only to General Bompiani. His name was Bertoldo Ciampi and he was rousing the group of handpicked supporters to revolution.

  ‘You all heard what the Signoria decreed,’ he said. ‘Ludovico is the true heir of Prince Jacopo. The only son and the oldest child. He should be our ruler and Prince, not some sad whey-faced girl.’

  There was some murmuring at this. Lucia had the citizens’ sympathy and the soldiers’ loyalty because of her tragic past and her lineage.

  ‘I have nothing
against Princess Lucia,’ said Ludo quickly. ‘I want only what is mine: the acknowledgment that Jacopo di Chimici was my father.’

  The group seemed mollified.

  ‘But what are we going to do about it?’ asked Ciampi. ‘While the Signoria have acknowledged Signor Ludovico’s parentage, they have denied him any rights in the city because of his illegitimacy. I ask, is this fair?’

  There was more murmuring, louder this time.

  Ludo knew that the people gathered in the room were a tiny proportion of those Fortezzans who thought the same way, but they had some influence and could bring many others round to their views if it came to an armed revolution.

  ‘I don’t want to speak ill of the Princess,’ said a baker, who looked as if he had partaken of too much of his own wares. ‘But Fortezza has never had a woman ruler in all its history.’

  ‘I remember when she was born,’ said a silk merchant, ‘and later her sister. There were fireworks and rejoicing both times, but when we realised that Princess Carolina was not going to give the Prince a son, we all knew there would be difficulties when this day came.’

  ‘But we all thought Princess Lucia would be married by then,’ said the baker.

  ‘And, to be fair, she was,’ said Ludo. ‘Would you have accepted her as joint ruler with Carlo di Chimici?’

  ‘It would have solved everything,’ said the merchant.

  ‘So, suppose she should marry one of her cousins now – like Filippo of Bellona?’ asked Ludo. ‘Would you then support my claim?’

  It was a risky strategy but he had to know.

  ‘Filippo of Bellona has left the city,’ said Ciampi. ‘And he did not look like an engaged man to me.’

  ‘Nay, it’s too late for that,’ said a corn chandler. ‘The only chance to do anything is now. How many of the army would support Signor Ludovico?’

  ‘About half,’ said Ciampi, turning to Ludo to encourage him. ‘And more as time passes and we win the hearts of more people.’