A Magic of Dawn (43 page)
Authors: S. L. Farrell
“I’ve been considering whether I should have you remain with the children here at Stag Fall,” Brie told her. She watched Rhianna’s face carefully. Yes, there was the hint of a frown, even though she tried to disguise it by wiping her brow with a sleeve.
“Paulus said that I would be going with the staff to the encampment,” she answered, and Brie smiled at her.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. But you’re so good with the children, Rhianna. Elissa especially likes you, and the nursemaids will have their hands full.”
Rhianna’s face was impassive. Carved from stone. The domestiques de chambre kept their heads down, intent on their own tasks: invisible. Brie knew that they had heard this conversation played out in one form or another before as well. “Whatever the Hïrzgin wishes, of course,” Rhianna said, but the response was slow in coming and toneless.
“Unless, of course,” Brie continued, “the Hïrzg would rather you were with us.”
Rhianna’s head came up, her eyes widened, and Brie felt the sickness tighten in her stomach
. Such a strange look: fear and anticipation all at once, as if she doesn’t know what she wants . . .
Brie kept the well-practiced smile on her face.
. Such a strange look: fear and anticipation all at once, as if she doesn’t know what she wants . . .
Brie kept the well-practiced smile on her face.
With Mavel cu’Kella, with the servants Maria and Greta, with the other women she’d known about, the decision would have been easy. Had Rhianna been like one of them, Brie would have her remain here, then dismiss her on her return. When lovers became too close to Jan, too bound up with him, they became a danger to Brie as well. With Rhianna, it wasn’t clear yet what was going to happen.
Perhaps that’s better. If I sent her away, then Jan would just find someone else: someone I might not know about for too long. At least with Rhianna, I know who to watch, and I can always end it. She’s just one of the unranked, after all . . .
Perhaps that’s better. If I sent her away, then Jan would just find someone else: someone I might not know about for too long. At least with Rhianna, I know who to watch, and I can always end it. She’s just one of the unranked, after all . . .
Brie nodded, as if to herself. “I’ll talk with the Hïrzg,” she told Rhianna. “I’ll ask him what he thinks.”
The girl nodded. “I’ll . . .” She cut off whatever it was she might have said. “I should finish the packing in the meantime,” she said.
“Yes,” Brie told her. “I’ll leave you to that.”
She wouldn’t talk to Jan. She would allow the girl to come along as Paulus had wished. And she would watch.
She would watch very carefully.
A
’OFFIZIER PIERRE CI’SANTIAGO was obviously uncomfortable with the news he brought to Allesandra. Under curls of raven-black hair matted and unruly from the pressure of his uniform cap, now twisting in his hands, ci’Santiago’s gaze kept sliding away from Allesandra’s face like feet on slick ice. A glance toward the windows, then off to the painting of Kraljica Marguerite in its place over the mantel. Ci’Santiago seemed to shudder momentarily at the sight of Marguerite, perhaps remembering the madness of Kraljiki Audric years ago. “The Commandant has been captured by the Morellis.” Back to her, his eyes widening, then away again. “We’re not certain of his condition, but the body of A’Téni ca’Paim as well as those of several other téni and gardai were delivered to us.” Back, and this time moving down to his own feet. “The war-téni who had failed to ride with the Garde Civile force you sent to Villembouchure were there. All of them, when it was thought that they had fled the city rather than serve. Neither Commandant cu’Ingres nor A’Téni ca’Paim could have foreseen that.”
’OFFIZIER PIERRE CI’SANTIAGO was obviously uncomfortable with the news he brought to Allesandra. Under curls of raven-black hair matted and unruly from the pressure of his uniform cap, now twisting in his hands, ci’Santiago’s gaze kept sliding away from Allesandra’s face like feet on slick ice. A glance toward the windows, then off to the painting of Kraljica Marguerite in its place over the mantel. Ci’Santiago seemed to shudder momentarily at the sight of Marguerite, perhaps remembering the madness of Kraljiki Audric years ago. “The Commandant has been captured by the Morellis.” Back to her, his eyes widening, then away again. “We’re not certain of his condition, but the body of A’Téni ca’Paim as well as those of several other téni and gardai were delivered to us.” Back, and this time moving down to his own feet. “The war-téni who had failed to ride with the Garde Civile force you sent to Villembouchure were there. All of them, when it was thought that they had fled the city rather than serve. Neither Commandant cu’Ingres nor A’Téni ca’Paim could have foreseen that.”
“No? Is that what you think, A’Offizier?” Allesandra asked. Her stomach burned as if she had swallowed a hot coal. “Isn’t anticipating the movements of the enemies of the state the Commandant’s job? Isn’t anticipating the movements of the enemies of the Faith the task of A’Téni ca’Paim?”
Ci’Santiago swallowed hard. “Well, yes, I suppose it is, my Kraljica, but . . .”
He stopped, as if uncertain what to say next, and she waved aside whatever objection he was concocting. She wished that Sergei were here—the man might be twisted and dangerous, but there wasn’t a better tactician in either of the Gardes. And if not Sergei, then Commandant ca’Talin, who was directing the action at Villembouchure. The attack on the Old Temple begged for leadership of the Garde Civile, leadership she suspected she wasn’t going to see from ci’Santiago.
“So A’Téni ca’Paim, my good friend and the leader of the Faith here, is dead,” she said before ci’Santiago could comment again. “And Nico Morel and his riffraff hold the Old Temple. What do you intend to do about that, A’Offizier, now that it would seem that you are in charge of the Garde Kralji?”
Ci’Santiago shook his head. “Kraljica, retaking the Old Temple would be costly in lives and perhaps in damage to the structure itself. With the war-téni and other téni Nico Morel has at his disposal, a frontal attack is nearly impossible. I have people contacting the architect cu’Brunelli for his architectural drawings of the temple, so that we can perhaps plan an attack from an unexpected quarter, but it may well be that the téni Morel has with him know the hidden ways of the Old Temple—especially the ancient sections of it—as well or better than cu’Brunelli, who after all was concerned mostly with the dome and the main temple area. We’re also looking for old maps or texts in the Grande Libreria as well. I’ve surrounded the Old Temple and the attached complex with my people. The Morellis have trapped themselves. They can’t escape and we will also keep out his people and food supplies, though the kitchens of the Old Temple complex were undoubtedly full.”
“So you’re telling me that he’s won, that the best we can do is lay siege to the Old Temple and hope to starve out the Morellis. One day maybe months from now. You’re telling me that, a quarter turn’s walk from the palais, we no longer control one of the most important buildings in the city?”
Ci’Santiago heard the heavy sarcasm in her voice. His gaze flittered away again. “To some degree, that’s an accurate assessment, Kraljica,” he said. “Unless you can commit some of the chevarittai and the Garde Civile to this, the Garde Kralji doesn’t have the resources to deal with this large and this powerful an insurrection.” He finally looked at her face again, and this time his gaze was hard and unblinking. “I’m simply being honest, Kraljica. I wish it were otherwise.”
She sighed. “I know. What does Morel want? Have we received demands from him yet?”
“His demands were pinned to A’Téni ca’Paim’s robes,” he answered, almost apologetically. He reached into a side pocket of his uniform jacket and handed a folded piece of parchment to Allesandra. She unfolded the stiff paper; the writing there was clear and bold, in a fine, small hand.
To Archigos Karrol, Kraljica Allesandra, and Hïrzg Jan—Cénzi will wait no longer for the Faith to come to its senses and return to His teachings. He has demanded that I be His Voice and His Hand, and I am but His humble and obedient servant. Up until this moment, I had obeyed the unfair and misguided restrictions that the Archigos and the Faith placed upon me. I had not used the Ilmodo, I had not worn the robes I had earned, I had not represented myself as a téni or even as a member of the Concénzia Faith. But Cénzi has ordered me to throw off the chains you would place around me and serve Him as He wishes.
I have obeyed.
Know that A’Téni ca’Paim’s death was her own fault for having attempted to defy Cénzi’s will; neither I nor any of my people intended her death. It was Cénzi who called her back to His arms. Commandant cu’Ingres has been injured, but my people are caring for him and we will do no further harm to him, nor to any of the other prisoners in our charge. If some of these captives die of the injuries they’ve already sustained, we will return the bodies so that their families can grieve and bury them; those who are healthy and those we are still caring for will, unfortunately, need to remain here for the time being, as I’m sure you can understand.
All of you must be curious as to what I hope to gain by this. I personally hope to gain nothing; I leave it to Cénzi to tell me what He wants of me. What He has said is this:
1) Those who have participated in today’s acts will not be prosecuted or punished for their actions, which were necessary because the Faith turned blind eyes and deaf ears to the pleas of those who saw the Faith falling away from the true teachings of the Toustour and the Divolonté. We weep for the death and injury that has been caused, and we wish it did not have to be so. But when those in authority no longer obey the tenets they have pledged to uphold, they must be cast down. If that requires violence, then Cénzi will bless those who do His bidding.
2) The seat of the Faith must return to Nessantico where it properly belongs.
3) Archigos Karrol must step down; a Concord A’Téni will convene immediately to elect a new Archigos for the Faith.
4) No heretical views will be tolerated within the Holdings nor the Coalition. Those preaching such views will meet the justice of the Faith. All secular cooperation with groups such as the Numetodo will immediately cease. Those heretics who recant their ways and accept Cénzi will be forgiven; those who do not will quickly meet Him.
5) The Concénzia Faith does not concern itself with secular affairs except where such conflict with the tenets of the Faith. Thus, the Faith does not care that Kraljica Allesandra remains on the Sun Throne or that Hïrzg Jan bears the crown of Firenzcia. However, both Kraljica Allesandra and Hïrzg Jan must acknowledge the supremacy of the Faith in all matters that impinge on the Toustour and the Divolonté, or the Faith will cease to cooperate with them. No téni will be allowed to assist them in any way: the war-téni will not fight with their armies; the light-téni will not illuminate their streets; the utilino will not patrol with the Garde Kralji nor the Garde Brezno; the lower téni will not toil in the industries of the state.
These five demands are not open to negotiation. They reflect Cénzi’s Divine Will and will not—can not—be abrogated. If any of these demands are not met, then the wrath of Cénzi will fall upon you as it has A’Téni ca’Paim.
We await your replies.
The document was signed with a bold flourish: Nico Morel.
Allesandra folded the paper again, staring at it in her hand, resisting the temptation to crumple the document and toss it into the fire in the hearth. “Well, the young man is certainly arrogant enough,” she commented. Ci’Santiago said nothing. “I’ll have Talbot make a copy of this for Hïrzg Jan and Archigos Karrol and send it by fast-rider to them. They might be amused. They’ll undoubtedly be terrifically entertained by the fact that Morel could take over the Old Temple and we seem to be unable to root him out.”
“I’m sorry, Kraljica,” ci’Santiago said. “I’ll consult with the other offiziers and perhaps some plan can be devised . . .”
She waved him silent.
“No. Let Morel have the Old Temple. All I ask is that you keep him there. Right now, there are more important matters: let’s see what happens with Commandant ca’Talin at Villembouchure. When we know how he’s fared, we can decide what must be done with Morel. Just keep him there, snared in a hole of his own making. Can you do that much, A’Offizier?”
Ci’Santiago flushed and nodded quickly. “Is there an answer I should send to Morel?” he asked.
“I think that the lack of an answer will be all the answer he needs,” she said. “That is all I require of you for the moment, A’Offizier. Please send in Talbot on your way out . . .”
Ci’Santiago saluted her and spun on the balls of his feet. She watched him leave, glancing at the portrait of Marguerite as he closed the door. “I’m sorry,” she told the stern face in the painting. “I’m sorry I ever thought it would be easy to be on the Sun Throne. Every day, I appreciate what you accomplished all the more.”
Kraljiki Audric might have thought that the painting of his great-matarh could speak and respond, but it did nothing for Allesandra. Kraljica Marguerite only stared at her, frowning and eternally stern.
“If you don’t act, the people will start to think you weak.” The voice came from the direction of her bedroom. The door had opened and she saw Erik there, dressed in one of the robes she’d had Talbot bring up for him.
“I know,” she told him. She tried to keep the sudden annoyance she felt out of her voice: at the tone of his voice, at the nonchalant and confident way he leaned against the doorway. Something about his demeanor gigged her; she told herself that it was because of the news, because of ci’Santiago’s uselessness and cu’Ingres’ incompetence and ca’Paim’s death. “And I
will
act,” she finished.
will
act,” she finished.
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