The Shadow Master by Craig Cormick Read Free Book Online

supporters away, and they too had found the only means of supporting their Duke’s dignity and their own was in drawing their swords and baying for blood.
    They had been winding their way down a particularly thin alleyway, which forced them to go single file, when a hooded man had stepped out in front of them and said, “Is this a centipede I see? It surely cannot be, for it has no sting to it.”
    The leader of the Lorraine men put his hand on his sword hilt and said, “Do not taunt us or we will respond with something more heavy on your head than words.” But the hooded man only laughed at that, and said, in a strange Germanic accent, “You are all girly men!” The leader of the Lorraine men drew his sword and the hooded man turned and ran.
    They had chased him back into a wider street where they could hurl their curses at him three or four abreast, but he was easily outdistancing them. “Hurry, hurry,” the leader of the Lorraine men urged as he led his band around a corner, where the hooded man had fled, and entered the plaza and saw armed Medici militia attacking civilians.
    The hooded man was forgotten and citizens of both sides ran and limped for cover as the conflict suddenly turned into a pitched battle around them. Wounded people cried for help to the absent city guard, or to the tightly shuttered houses around them, but nobody would be coming to their aid, it was clear. They slipped and stumbled on the bloody flagstones and dragged themselves away, leaving the armed men to fight each other. And if not for the fact that equally-armed men tend to do less damage to each other than armed men attacking unarmed men tend to, the bloodshed would have been considerable that evening. But after the initial clash of swords both militias found themselves withdrawing to either side of the plaza, dragging their dead and wounded with them.
    The victory and the losses seemed about even, so neither side was willing to be the first one to withdraw from the battle field entirely and concede defeat. But neither was each group as keen to attack the other as they had been keen to attack civilians. So it was, when the city guard finally arrived on the scene and found the well-armed and bloodied Medici and Lorrain men lined up like school children, casting vegetables, stones and insults at each other. Both groups were satisfied to disperse when ordered to, without challenging the guards’ authority, despite greatly outnumbering them, and they marched off along different streets to inevitably find citizens not aligned with their house, and start their outrage all over again.
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VII
    â€œWhy don’t you say something?” the Duchess hissed at her husband. But he just sat there quietly at a long table, surrounded by his councillors, who were arguing and bickering with each other as to how they should best act. He turned to look at his wife. She wore a long red robe with white trimming – quite a contrast to his sombre dark coat with pearls stitched into it – and it almost made her look beautiful. The men around them talked loudly, knowing it was just as important that she heard their opinions and advice as the Duke did, as they would eventually be dismissed from the chamber and the matter would be settled between the two of them. Those who advocated war with the Medici house stood closest to her, knowing that would be her preference, and those who advocated a more peaceful settlement, gathered around the Duke, knowing it would be his preference.
    The Duke seemed uninterested in all their opinions though, toying with a small glass-covered brass object on the desk in front of him as the voices buzzed around his ears. “This is tarnish to the silvery name of Lorraine, to accuse of us of being behind this attack. We must act decisively to restore our honour.” / “Honour is best served by acting honourably.” / “This tastes of a power struggle across the