Free City of Swords by Mary Hoffman Page A

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 hand-picked 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.’
    ‘I think about half the city would be behind him too,’ said the chandler. ‘Why, he even looks like Jacopo, to those of us who can remember the Prince as a young man.’
    ‘And I say, what does it matter that he’s a . . . I mean, that he wasn’t born in wedlock,’ said the baker. ‘He’s got the right blood and he’d make a better ruler than poor Lucia, so to my mind there’s no question. Let’s have him as our Prince.’
    And suddenly everyone was shouting ‘Prince