City of Swords (33 page)

Georgia and Nick were describing the same devastation to Laura, Isabel and Sky. Matt had a Maths exam and Ayesha Psychology, but the rest of them had gathered in Nick’s attic to hear what had happened on their stravagation. For the first time Charlie had accompanied his sister and her friend to one of these meetings at Nick’s; he had insisted. He still found it strange that Isabel had suddenly become so popular, even though he did now know about stravagation.

‘Thank goodness Ludo has surrendered,’ said Nick, ‘or there would be nothing of Fortezza left.’

‘But it had such strong walls and defences,’ said Laura.

‘I think,’ said Georgia slowly, ‘that this attack happened just at the point where old methods were being overtaken by gun power. Both sides had cannon but the di Chimici weapons were newer and superior.’

‘That didn’t help in the Battle of Classe,’ said Isabel. ‘Fabrizio was defeated by a much smaller force there, modern weapons or not.’

‘He seriously underestimated the enemy in Classe,’ said Nick. ‘And he was expecting victory from the sea, remember. Maybe he has learned from that defeat. He has a good general.’

‘But what will happen to Ludo now?’ asked Laura.

They told her about the safe conduct to Romula, leaving out Nick’s doubts about his oldest brother’s trustworthiness.

It was Charlie who asked, ‘What is the Grand Duke’s promise worth?’

Laura immediately started to worry.

To distract her, Georgia said, ‘Fabrizio is more interested in making an example of Enrico.’

‘The Eel?’ said Sky, remembering Enrico’s reputation in Giglia even before the duel.

‘I don’t fancy his chances of seeing many more sunrises,’ said Nick.

‘But what did he do?’ asked Laura, distracted in spite of herself by the thought of another human being facing certain death. It didn’t seem to matter that it was more than four centuries in the past. After all, she could be there to witness it tomorrow.

‘He killed my father,’ said Nick.

‘But . . .’

‘Oh, it was Luciano who dealt the blow. But it was a small wound. It was the poison on the blade that killed him. Enrico had switched the foils.’

‘So, hang on,’ said Laura. ‘Your father meant to poison Luciano as well as wound him?’

‘Yes,’ said Nick. ‘My family is not well known for playing fair.’

That brought Laura back to Ludo’s plight.

‘When do you think Ludo and Gaetano will leave?’ she asked.

‘The day after tomorrow,’ said Nick. ‘Early. I mean, early in the night, if you are planning to stravagate.’

‘I must, mustn’t I?’ said Laura. ‘Once they’ve left Fortezza I won’t be able to follow them. I’ll have one more good sleep and then I’ll go on Saturday.’

They nodded. Georgia was just relieved that at last Nick had accepted it was Enrico who had killed Duke Niccolò; it had not been so long since he had believed it had been his own fault that his father had died.

The victory banquet in Fortezza was lacking in many things but not in the finest wine. Princess Lucia had opened her father’s cellars to provide the best that the castle could offer. And whatever the dinner lacked in good fare, it was all served on the best of the family’s silver plate, bearing their crest of the sword and lily.

The Grand Duke sat on Lucia’s right and had insisted that Filippo of Bellona should sit on her left. Lucia would have preferred Guido or Gaetano as dinner-companions, but they were down at the other end of the long candlelit table beside her mother.

Fabrizio, completely elated by the relative ease of this victory after his humiliation in Classe, drank too much of his late uncle’s good wine, and Lucia was a good host, making sure her guests’ goblets were kept fully charged.

Under the influence of the wine and encouraged by some grotesque winking from his cousin on Lucia’s other side, Filippo became sentimental.

‘I am so happy to see you in your rightful place at the head of your table,’ he said, drinking again to Lucia’s health.

‘It has been a difficult time since my father’s death,’ said Lucia. ‘I too am happy that the situation has been resolved. But there will be much work to do in the city, to repair the damage caused by . . .’

‘By us!’ finished Filippo triumphantly, who had not been near a gun or in any danger throughout the siege.

‘By the civil war, I was going to say,’ continued Lucia. ‘I cannot blame my cousin’s army when he was fighting in my defence.’

‘True, true,’ said Filippo. He was thinking what a very attractive young woman his cousin was. Her red hair shone in the candlelight, which picked out the di Chimici emeralds Carolina had insisted her daughter should wear on this occasion.

‘When will you have your coronation?’ he asked.

‘I had not thought so far,’ said Lucia. ‘As I said, there is so much to be done to help the city return to its normal peaceful and prosperous state.’

‘Quite so,’ said Fabrizio, who had been listening to them. ‘But what could be more helpful in that aim than giving the people a Royal Celebration? My coffers are open to you, for whatever you need to repair the city. And I agree with Filippo that the sooner you are crowned, the sooner the city of Fortezza can begin its new life.’

Filippo, who had said nothing about it, nodded prudently. He was still in Fabrizio’s good books and emboldened to go further.

‘There is one thing more that would bring heart to the citizens and replace their sorrow with rejoicing,’ he said, rather pleased with this turn of phrase.

Fabrizio was looking at him encouragingly.

‘What is that?’ asked Lucia, quite unaware of what her cousins had been discussing behind her back.

‘While I cannot condone in any way the rebellion of some of your citizens,’ Filippo said, taking another gulp of wine for courage, ‘I think there will always be a danger when a di Chimici woman rules alone.’

Lucia braced herself as she suddenly understood what was coming.

‘I think we have effectively overcome that objection,’ she said.

‘But how?’ asked Filippo, beginning to slur his words. ‘By your male cousins forming an army to rescue you.’

Lucia remained silent.

‘Would it not be a wise plan for you to share the burden of rule with a companion?’ he asked.

‘I have indeed considered it,’ said Lucia.

This was going better that Filippo could possibly have imagined. Emboldened by her encouragement, he swallowed and took the plunge.

‘I am glad to hear it, cousin,’ he said, ‘for it seems to me that it might be a splendid idea to unite two branches of our family in one. To cement a union between Bellona and Fortezza.’

‘Are you proposing marriage to me, cousin?’ Lucia asked. Her voice was steady.

Filippo looked a bit abashed but nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, if you will have me, dear Lucia,’ he said, bestowing on her what he hoped was a winning smile.

‘And he has my approval as head of the family,’ said Fabrizio.

‘I thank you both,’ said Lucia, ‘for your concern in my fortunes and my future. But I have a few questions to ask.’

Fabrizio smiled benignly on Lucia and Filippo. How much more tractable was his cousin than his sister! But he banished the thought of Beatrice, which was like thistles inside a boot to him.

‘Please ask anything of me,’ said Filippo. ‘My heart and hands are at your disposal.’

‘Firstly, what will happen when in the course of time you lose your father as I so recently lost mine?’

Fabrizio and Filippo had talked about this.

‘Long may that day be in the future,’ said Filippo. ‘But until then I will be Prince Consort of Fortezza. When my father at last goes to his maker, we can install a representative in Fortezza and you will of course come to live with me in Bellona as my Princess.’

‘So I would give up the status of ruler in my own right for that of consort?’ asked Lucia.

‘You would still rule Fortezza, of course,’ said Filippo. ‘But a husband and wife cannot live and rule in different cities, I’m sure you will agree.’

‘I do agree,’ said Lucia. ‘Thank you for answering my question. My second concerns the state of your affections. Was it not only a matter of months ago that you were paying court to my cousin Beatrice?’

Fabrizio intervened to save Filippo’s blushes.

‘Again with my approval, cousin,’ he said. ‘Filippo has done nothing to be ashamed of. You must not act like a jealous girl. In families such as ours marriages are made for dynastic reasons, not love.’

‘Thank you for explaining that Filippo would marry me, as he would have married Beatrice, without love,’ said Lucia.

Filippo realised that perhaps this was not going as well as he had thought.

‘But my cousin Beatrice chose to marry for love,’ said Lucia.

‘Do not mention her,’ said Fabrizio. ‘She is no longer a member of my family.’

‘But she is of mine,’ said Lucia. ‘I do not believe the blood in her body has changed, and it comes from the same line as mine. In fact I admire her for making her own choice of husband.’

‘Filippo Nucci!’ snorted the Grand Duke. ‘Our family’s mortal enemy and an assassin. A very fine choice!’

‘As I remember he was a friend to our family in our childhood,’ said Lucia. ‘And as for what happened on that terrible day of my first marriage, it was not Filippo who cut down my husband, but his brother Camillo.’

Fabrizio was mollified by Lucia’s reference to her ‘first’ marriage. Was this a good omen?

‘I am sorry, my dear, to have brought back such hideous memories,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘Let us forget about the Nucci traitors and think of a better future for you. You know I regard you as my sister – especially now that I no longer have another one. You were married to my brother Carlo for no more than an hour when he was taken from you and I would like to see you married again.’

‘I should like to be married again,’ said Lucia. ‘And in spite of the recent sorrow over my father, I think this would be a good occasion on which to announce my intentions. You are right that it would comfort the people of Fortezza to have a wedding to look forward to along with the coronation.’

Filippo and Fabrizio looked at each other in bewildered delight.

Lucia rose from her chair and the herald at her shoulder blew a clear note on his silver trumpet. The assembled diners got to their feet too.

‘Your Grace, Your Royal Highnesses, dear friends and family, citizens of Fortezza,’ said Lucia, ‘we are gathered tonight to celebrate the passing on of my father’s crown to me as his heir – the Princess of Fortezza. And the great victory over rebellion that brought this outcome to pass.’

There was loud cheering. The Princess led them in toasts to Prince Jacopo, the Grand Duke, the Generals and the army. And to the city of Fortezza that was so dear to them all.

‘But circumstances cause me to choose this joyous occasion for another announcement, which I hope will be a cause of further rejoicing,’ said Lucia. ‘My cousin Grand Duke Fabrizio, whose late brother was my husband so briefly, has encouraged me to marry for a second time and I have listened to his advice.’

Filippo could not believe his luck; he was going to marry a di Chimici princess! And a very lovely one, he thought, more beautiful than pale, quiet Beatrice.

‘So I should like to announce that on the day of my coronation, at a date yet to be decided, but soon, I shall marry a noble gentleman of Bellezza who has become very dear to me, Signor Guido Parola, and he shall be my Prince Consort.’

^*

Laura arrived in Fabio’s workshop out of breath, as if she had run all the way from the other world. In fact she had gone to bed early at Isabel’s to be sure of catching Ludo before he left. Beyond that, she had no plan. She was banking on Fabio to get her into whatever dungeon Ludo was being held in.

But it was early in the morning and the Stravaganti were still asleep. Or at least they were not in the shop.

Laura wandered round it, touching blades and pommels and crosspieces of swords made and ready for their violent purpose. There was a short sword like the one that had inflicted the wound on her right arm. She wondered briefly what would happen to the guard who had inflicted it. He had only been doing his job.