A Magic of Dawn (67 page)

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Authors: S. L. Farrell

BOOK: A Magic of Dawn
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“It’s my pleasure to help, A’Morce. The poor thing didn’t deserve to lose her matarh and vatarh this way.”
“No,” Varina agreed. “She didn’t.”
Belle leaned down and kissed Sera, then bowed her head to Varina. “I’ll see you in the morning with my cousin.”
After Belle left, Varina sat in the chair near the window for a time, rocking back and forth and watching Sera sleep while she listened to people passing in the corridor outside or walking in the garden below her window. She thought briefly of putting Sera down and letting her sleep while she worked for a bit, then thought better of it. She wrapped Sera more tightly, then picked up her own cloak and left the office. Coming down the stairs, she passed Johannes. “I’m sorry for my abruptness earlier,” she told him. “I was worried.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard since about what happened at the Old Temple. I can understand, A’Morce. You’re heading home? Why don’t you let me or someone accompany you?”
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “It’s still early enough, and there are plenty of people about. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. There’s to be a meeting with Allesandra on our progress with sparkwheels.”
He bowed to her and she left the house, walking quickly across the front courtyard and out the gates, turning left on the Avi a’Parete toward their house a few blocks away. That’s how she still thought of it:
their
house, as if Karl were still alive, as if she might open the door of his library there and find him sitting at the desk poring over some old tome. She still sometimes heard a noise and would turn, expecting to see him standing there, but he never was.
She hugged Sera tighter as she walked. The faces she passed would sometimes nod to her, but most of them were strained and serious: people hurrying to their own tasks and worrying about the city and what might happen. The sparseness of traffic made it look as if it were far later than it actually was; usually the Avi was at its most crowded and noisy between Second and Third Call, but not today.
Varina turned the corner onto her own street, then down the curving lane in the direction of the A’Sele. She reached the gate to their manor and unlocked it, not bothering to ring for one of the house servants. She closed the gate behind her.
“Varina.” The voice to her left made her jump and clutch Sera so tightly that the baby cried in her sleep. She turned slowly, seeing two figures in the vine-wrapped shadows of the gate’s stone pillar.
“Nico,” she said. “You shouldn’t be here.” Behind Nico, a young woman stared at her intently.
Nico smiled. “Probably,” he agreed. “But you have something I needed to see.”
Varina took a step back. She could feel the weight of the sparkwheel under her cloak; she could feel the energy of the spells in her mind waiting to be released. Sera fussed in her arms, awake now. “Nico, I’m warning you. I’m not giving her to you. If you try to take her, I will fight you to protect her.”
“I don’t want to take her from you,” he answered. “I’m glad they gave her to you for the time being, since I know you’ll do exactly what you just said you’d do. I just want to see her—to see my daughter. Please, Varina?”
“I won’t let you hold her.”
“That’s fair enough.”
“And tell that woman to stand well back.”
Nico nodded to his companion, who slid back a few steps. Varina tucked the cloth back from Sera’s face as Nico came up to her. She watched his face as he stared down at the baby, watched as his face softened, as his lips curved upward in a smile, as he half-laughed at the sight of her. “The shape of her eyes—I can see Liana,” he said huskily.
He reached out toward her, and Varina clutched tighter at her. She felt the spell energy boiling in her head. But he only stroked her cheek with a finger, then laughed again when Sera reached up with her hand, fisting her fingers around his. “Strong, too,” he said. “That’s good. Hey, Serafina. I’m your vatarh . . .” He glanced at Varina. “That’s a good name. Serafina.”
“Nico, if they catch you again, they won’t be so kind this time.”
“Then I’ll need to be careful, won’t I?” he said. “Are you leaving Nessantico?”
Varina shook her head. “No?” Nico said. He sounded disappointed, or perhaps concerned “Even with the baby?”
“If it comes to that, I’ll send Sera away with someone I can trust.” She paused. “That won’t be you, Nico. I’m sorry.”
He inclined his head. A sadness deepened the lines around his eyes. “I understand. But . . . At your age, Varina, we have to be realistic. And it’s not just age—look at you: your study of magic has taken its own toll. The baby needs a matarh who’s younger.”
Varina thought he glanced sidewise toward the woman with him. Varina looked at her also. She didn’t recognize the face, but there was something about her, something vaguely familiar . . . She shook her head.
“I’m aware that I’m her great-matarh’s age,” she told them, “and I know what my studies have done as well. I’ve seen the face in the mirror. I’ve already made inquiries. But for now, Sera’s in my charge, and I
will
protect her. I’m serious, Nico.”
“And that’s understood,” he told her. “I’ve already told you that I’m glad they gave her to you. You were always kind to me back then. Sometimes I wished . . .” He glanced again at the woman with him, then took a long breath. “Keep her safe,” he said. “Maybe sometime I can actually be her vatarh.”
“You
are
her vatarh,” Varina told him. “And I’ll tell her about you. She’ll know you. I promise you that much.”
Another nod. He pulled his finger away from her hand and she fussed. He stroked her cheek again. “It’s time to go,” he said. “Good-bye, little Serafina.” He leaned down and kissed her, then straightened. The woman with him had moved to the gate.
“Let me unlock it again for you,” Varina said, but the young woman only gave her a look of disdain. She plucked two thin pieces of steel from somewhere in her cloak, leaned down, and a moment later pushed the gate open. She grinned back at Varina. Nico bowed, almost as if he were leaving her house after a visit.
A moment later, he and his companion were gone. Varina pulled the gate shut again, listening to the lock click into place. Sera was whimpering.
She hugged the baby, rocking her in her arms until she settled again.
 
Brie ca’Ostheim
 
T
HE DRUMS BEAT CADENCE as the army approached the city. The a’offiziers, following orders relayed from Stakkapitän ca’Damont, steered the army toward the fields north of the Avi a’Firenzcia and didn’t enter the city itself. The citizenry of the villages just outside the gates cheered the advancing battalions and the silver-and-black banners that waved above them. And they especially cheered the Hïrzgin who accompanied them.
Brie waved back to them, smiling the smile she’d perfected over the years for state affairs, a mask behind which she could hide her own uncertainty and fears, a cheerful gesture to the crowds detached from any true awareness. On the nearest of the fields where the army was to encamp, a tent had been erected, flying both the banners of Nessantico and Firenzcia, blue and gold mingling with black and silver. As Brie’s carriage approached, the flaps of the tent opened and a crowned figure appeared flanked by Garde Brezno in the uniform of the Holdings, and Brie saw Sergei ca’Rudka standing just behind the crowned figure. Brie recognized the woman immediately from the paintings she’d seen of her: Allesandra. The Kraljica strode forward with her arms wide, her own smile nearly as wide. Sergei limped after her. “Where is my marriage-daughter?” Allesandra said as she approached Brie’s carriage. “Where is the Hïrzgin?”
Soldiers hurried forward to open the doors of her carriage and place a step below for her. Brie took the offered hand and stepped out into the sun, blinking and keeping her own smile fastened to her face. She allowed Allesandra to fold her in her embrace, kissing her on one cheek, then the other. Allesandra smelled of rose and pomegranate; her grip was surprisingly strong and surprisingly genuine. “This moment should have come years ago,” she whispered in Brie’s ear. “I apologize for that; it was my fault. I have wanted to know you and your children for so long . . .”
Her voice trailed off. Brie held Allesandra’s hands. She gazed at the older woman’s eyes, at the folds that cushioned them, at the powder dusting the skin and the blue shadows under her painted and plucked brows. She could see Jan in the shape of those eyes and in the lines of her face; she could see a reflection of Elissa, Kriege, Caelor, and Eria as well. Even that voice, taken down in pitch . . .
“I’ve wanted this moment myself,” Brie told her. “For longer than you might imagine, Kraljica. We have so much to talk about.” She knew that Jan would scold her for saying what she said next, but she didn’t care. She had looked into Allesandra’s face and she had seen no monster there. ‘I want my children to know their great-matarh—as she is, not as Jan has portrayed her.”
Brie saw pain pass over Allesandra’s face at that. “I believe it’s Venerable Carin in the Toustour who advises us that the distress of truth is always preferable to the balm of lies,” Allesandra answered. “Still, there are times when I think we all prefer the lies. I’m certain that Jan, in his mind, spoke what he believed to be the truth about me. I’m afraid I’ve not always been a good matarh to him, and I have done things—”
Brie hurried to cut off whatever admission Allesandra intended to make, squeezing Allesandra’s hands. “You have done, I’m sure, what was necessary for you to do as Kraljica. I believe that Venerable Carin is also the one who admonishes us that the past can’t be changed, only the present. Let’s grasp this moment, Kraljica, you and I, and make the present good.”
Allesandra smiled again. “I hope my son appreciates the wife and counselor he has in you,” she said.
Brie only returned the smile, perfect and practiced. “He appreciates me as much as he is able,” she answered, “and as little as he can get away with.”
Allesandra laughed. “Isn’t that the way of things?” she exclaimed. She hugged Brie again, then took her hand. She raised it in the air, turning to the soldiers and chevarittai around them. “This is Hïrzgin Brie,” she proclaimed, “and I welcome her to Nessantico as my marriage-daughter, and as the wife of the next Kraljiki and the matarh to his heirs.”
Cheers erupted from the ranks around them, and Brie bowed and waved to the assembly. She wondered if they would still be cheering in a few days. “Are you hungry?” Allesandra asked. “I have dinner waiting for us in the tent . . .”
Brie let Allesandra escort her to the tent. As she passed Sergei, she stopped and gave the man the sign of Cénzi. “Hïrzgin,” the Silvernose said. “It’s good to see you again.” He leaned closer to her then, his voice a harsh, bare whisper. “And I have things to tell you as well.”
With that, he leaned away again, smiling at her, and waving her into the tent in Allesandra’s wake.
 
“You’re certain the girl was Rhianna?”
“Rochelle is her real name; at least that’s what she claims. But yes, it was the same young woman. I’m certain of it.”
“And she also claims to be the daughter of the White Stone and Jan?”
Sergei nodded silently. Brie sat back in her chair, shaking her head but not knowing how to respond. She wanted to protest, wanted to cry, wanted to scream in rage.
This explains so much. He’s still in love with her, after all these years.
Allesandra had returned to the city; Sergei remained behind after their dinner, telling Allesandra that he would escort Brie to the palais himself as soon as she was ready. The table that had held the dinner still lay between them, though the servants had cleared it of everything but a flagon of wine and some bread and cheese. Brie leaned forward and tipped the flagon into her goblet, watching the wine splash into the bottom. She leaned back again and sipped.
“I think it’s quite possible she’s telling the truth,” Sergei continued. “I’m fairly certain of it, in fact. I know that’s not what you wish to hear, Hïrzgin, but we have to acknowledge that—given the history we both know—it’s plausible.”
“But not certain.”
He smiled under the silver nose. “No, not certain. I have people out making inquiries and checking some of the references she gave to me, but it will be a long time before I hear from them given the current situation, and who knows if they will ever uncover enough to prove things one way or the other.” He shrugged. “Regardless, that
is
what Rochelle believes, true or not.”

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