A Magic of Dawn (61 page)

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Authors: S. L. Farrell

BOOK: A Magic of Dawn
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Archigos Karrol’s face had gone white, as if he were choking. “You will
permit . . .
You have no authority to do that, Kraljica. None at all. I am Archigos, and I—”
“And you, Archigos Karrol, don’t seem to realize just how fragile and precarious your position is. The majority of your téni followed Nico Morel rather than the unfortunate A’Téni ca’Paim, and your own war-téni did the same. Where is this power you seem to think you possess, Archigos? You couldn’t defeat Nico Morel, but
I
did—with the great help, I would remind you, of the Numetodo. It would seem that the Faith is no longer the only ally to which a Kralji can turn in time of need, nor the strongest. I suggest that if you wish to demonstrate how the Faith can help, you do so, Archigos. My faith in Cénzi is as strong as ever, but frankly I don’t think the defense of Nessantico would be any less strong if you shared the same cell as Morel.”
Karrol slammed his hands on the table, causing glasses to ring and china to clatter. “My Hïrzg, will you let this . . . this . . .
heretic
speak to me this way?”
Allesandra saw Jan shrug from the side of her vision. “If the Kraljica can actually produce the war-téni for my army, Archigos, perhaps she has a point.” He turned to her. “Matarh, you haven’t changed a whit. You still somehow manage to have things your way.”
“I won’t stay here,” Archigos Karrol spat. “I don’t need to listen to this apostasy.”
“Then I will permit you to leave,” Allesandra told him. “But be cautious with what you say and what you do, Archigos. You
will
consult either my son or me before you take any significant action—either that, or you’ll find that you’ll be replaced by one of the a’téni who
does
realize that the Faith is the servant of the state rather than the reverse.”
“You have
no
authority to replace me,” the Archigos blustered. “The Concord A’Téni won’t stand for it. The need of the Faith supersedes that of any state.”
“If you would like to test that theory, Archigos, I invite you to try. Talbot, would you have the palais gardai escort Archigos Karrol to the Old Temple, so he may survey the damage there? Perhaps he’d like to supervise the work crews, since he can’t give us the war-téni we require.”
Karrol’s assistant came forward with his cane as the Archigos stood. He glared at Allesandra, who calmly gave him the sign of Cénzi in return. Karrol stalked from the room with what little dignity remained to him. Jan applauded ironically as the doors closed behind the man.
“Huzzah, Matarh,” he said. “That was well-played. I’ve been trying to find an excuse to get rid of that ineffective old
bastardo
for a year or more now, and here you’ve done it for me.”
“You can thank Sergei,” she told him. “He’s the one who will convince Nico Morel to cooperate.” She saw Varina glare at Sergei with that—as if she realized the meaning underneath the words. “And now—to our own business. Have you spoken with the nations of the Coalition? Are they all in accord?”
“I’ve not spoken to them all, though I’ve sent messages to them,” Jan told her. “Sesemora is the strongest of them outside Firenzcia, and therefore the most dangerous, but Brie is the first cousin of Pjathi ca’Brinka and the family connections will prevail. Miscoli will fall in with Sesemora. East Magyaria knows that Tennshah’s troops would be swarming over its borders without Firenzcia’s protection. West Magyaria . . .” Here he stopped and glanced—once—in Erik’s direction. “The Gyula is our man.”
Allesandra saw Erik grimace, then slip a smile like a mask back over his face. “Perhaps the fate of West Magyaria isn’t quite as settled as you believe, Hïrzg Jan,” Erik said. “Perhaps the Kraljica has other plans.”
“Oh?” Jan asked. “Is this true, Matarh? Do rebels, traitors, and incompetents give commands in the Holdings? Are you planning to make the Hïrzg of Firenzcia as irrelevant as you did the Archigos? That won’t work, I’m afraid—I hold the high cards in this game, unless you want Nessantico overrun by the Westlanders.” There was genuine anger in his voice now. She glanced at Erik once more. He nodded to her and smiled. She looked away.
“Even with Firenzcia, I’m afraid there’s still no guarantee that the Tehuantin won’t prevail,” she told Jan. “Their army is far larger than the one they brought before, Commandant ca’Talin has been unable to slow their advance, and what they did at Karnmor . . .” She shivered, involuntarily. “But in answer to your question, no” she said, more firmly. “I make my own decisions as to what is best for Nessantico—as you will, too, Jan. As we will together.”
She paused.
You’re still certain you want to do this?
Erik was grinning, confident, and the presumption there irked her. She already knew the answer—because she knew that, inevitably, with Erik and Jan it would come down to choosing between the two of them. She raised her glass to Jan. “If the current Gyula is satisfactory to you,” she told him, “then he will remain Gyula.”
“What!” Erik gave a shout of outrage, rising to his feet. Talbot rose at the same time, and the gardai at the door stiffened. “You
promised
me,” he shouted at Allesandra, his face gone red. His finger stabbed air. “I trusted you. You and I have shared your—”
“Silence!”
Allesandra thundered in return. “If you say a word more, Vajiki, you’ll find yourself in the Bastida.
That
is my promise. You’re no longer welcome in my presence. You have this night to leave Nessantico. Go where you will, but if you’re here at First Call tomorrow, you will be declared a traitor to the Sun Throne and hunted down accordingly. If you’re caught, you’ll be sent to West Magyaria for trial by the Gyula’s court.”
“You can’t mean this.”
“Oh, but I do,” Allesandra told him.
“I meant nothing to you, then? The time we spent together—”
“—is done with,” she finished for him. “It’s one thing for a Kralji to make a mistake, Erik. It’s entirely another to continue to make it. Did you think I would exchange the good of the Holdings for simple affection? If you did, you never knew me at all.”
“I know you now,” Erik spat. “You’re a cold, cold bitch.”
It should have stung. It didn’t. She felt nothing at all. “Erik, you are wasting what little time you have.”
Erik glared. He fumed. But he clamped his mouth shut and stalked away from the table. The gardai opened the door for him. His bootsteps faded away down the long hall as the doors closed again.
“Matarh, you
do
amaze me,” Jan said. He looked around the table at Starkkapitän ca’Damont, at Sergei and Varina. “Which one of us leaves next?”
She ignored the sarcasm. “The Archigos needed to realize his place,” Allesandra told him. “We don’t need the distraction of having to placate the Concénzia Faith in this crisis. And as for Erik . . .” She shrugged. “I’m afraid I made a poor decision, and it was time to rectify it.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind the correction, you made two poor decisions—you also backed his vatarh.”
She started to argue.
No, let him have that much of a victory here. He’s uncertain and worried.
“I’ll accept that.” She nodded to Sergei, Varina, and ca’Damont, who sat silent through the exchange. “I’m sorry all of you had to witness that. I hope you know how much I value your advice and your counsel, Sergei, Varina. Both of you are vital to the Holdings, especially now. And Starkkapitän ca’Damont, your expertise will be essential in the coming days. Now . . . Let us talk of what faces Nessantico, and how we might prevail . . .”
 
Brie ca’Ostheim
 
I
T TOOK TWO DAYS TO CATCH UP with the supply train of the army, and another half-day to move through seemingly endless triple lines of infantry toward the command battalion. The soldiers cheered as her carriage approached with the insignia of the Hïrzg on its side. They moved off the road to allow the carriage to pass, and she waved to them. She also saw riders being sent ahead of her farther up the line, galloping through the fields and meadows alongside the road, and she knew that word of her arrival would be going to the offiziers, and from them to Jan. Brie expected Jan to be among those to greet her when she finally came within sight of the banner of the Hïrzg and the starkkapitän, but it was instead Armond cu’Weller, a chevaritt and a’offizier, who strode up to the carriage as the driver pulled the reins. Brie pushed open the door of the carriage and descended the steps before either the Garde Brezno riders with her or cu’Weller could move to help her.
“Hïrzgin,” he said, saluting her. His face was worried and anxious, and he glanced from her to the trio of mounted Garde Brezno gardai with her. Around them, the army had come to a sluggish halt. “Is there a problem? Was your train attacked? The children . . . ?”
“The children are fine, and should be in Brezno by now,” she answered. “I returned to be with my husband, that’s all, and to stand with him when he meets the Kraljica. If you would tell him that I’ve come, I’d appreciate it. I thought he’d be here . . .”
Cu’Weller looked away a moment, his lips pressing together. “I regret, Hïrzgin, to have to tell you that the Hïrzg, Starkkapitän ca’Damont, and several of the chevarittai had ridden ahead of the army. They are likely in Nessantico already.”
“Oh.” The vision of Jan standing in flame came back to her, and the mysterious woman with him . . . She bit at her lower lip, and that gave cu’Weller the chance to hurry in. He opened the door of the carriage for her, as if expecting her to immediately return inside.
“I’m sorry, Hïrzgin.” He glanced again at the mounted gardai with him. “I’ll assign a squad of additional troops to accompany you back to Stag Fall, and give you new horses and driver. The cook can put together provisions for the road . . .”
“I won’t be leaving,” she told him, and surprise lifted his eyebrows.
“Hïrzgin, this isn’t a place for you. An army on the march . . .”
“My husband isn’t here. That means that I am the authority of the throne of Firenzcia, does it not, A’Offizier?”
Cu’Keller looked as if he wanted to protest, but shook his head slightly. “Yes, Hïrzgin, I suppose so but . . .”
“Then my commands supersede yours, and I will continue on with you to Nessantico,” she told him, “until such a time as the Starkkapitän and my husband return. Do you have an issue with that, A’Offizier?”
“No, Hïrzgin. No issue.” The words were an acceptance, but the look on his face belied them.
She didn’t care. Something told her that she needed to be with Jan, and she would. “Good,” she told him. She opened the door of the carriage, one foot on the step. “Then let us not keep the army waiting,” she told him. “We’ve a long march ahead.”
 
Niente
 
T
HE WATERS OF AXAT BETRAYED HIM. He could see little of the Long Path in the mist. Even the events just before them were clouded. There were too many conflicting signs, too many possibilities, too many powers in opposition. Everything was in flux, everyone was in movement. He could no longer see his Long Path at all. It was gone, as if Axat had withdrawn Her favor from him, as if She were angry with him for his failures.
He saw only one thing. He saw himself and Atl, facing each other, and lightning flashed between them, and through the mist, he saw Atl fall . . .

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