by S L Farrell
“Talbot ci’Noel it is, I believe,” ca’Damont answered. “And that’s probably him. The other ones…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know any of the councillors other than Vajica ca’Pallo, and she’s not present. I’m sorry, Hirzg.” Jan saw his eyes narrow then. “That man behind ci’Noel, dressed Magyarian style. I would swear that’s Erik ca’Vikej, that traitor Stor’s son. Look at that smirk on his face-this could be a trap, Hirzg.”
Ca’Damont’s hand had gone to his sword hilt, and Jan touched his arm. “Not now,” he told the Starkkapitan. “Matarh wouldn’t be that obvious. Let’s get the lay of the land first.”
The aide ci’Noel stepped forward with the councillors as Jan reached them, his chevarittai moving aside to let Jan be the first to enter the city. The aide bowed low; the councillors less so. “Hirzg Jan,” he said. “I welcome you again to Nessantico after far too long an absence. Kraljica Allesandra sends her greetings and her gratitude, and she awaits you at the palais. If you will permit us to escort you to her…”
“Thank you, Vajiki ci’Noel,” Jan answered, pleased when the man nodded in acknowledgment-the name was either right or close enough. “And Councillors and Chevarittai,” he said to the others. He ignored ca’Vikej. It would have been better to have called a few of the councillors and chevarittai out by name, but instead he simply inclined his head to them. “This is Starkkapitan ca’Damont of the Garde Civile, and-” He had heard the carriage door open, and glanced back to see the Archigos being helped down. “Archigos Karrol,” he finished.
Ci’Noel inclined his head to ca’Damont, but significantly did not give Archigos Karrol the sign of Cenzi. Instead, he bowed to him as he might to anyone. Jan remembered then that his matarh’s aide was one of the Numetodo. Archigos Karrol was frowning, his hands halfway up to his bowed forehead to return the the expected sign. The councillors and chevarittai, however, did clasp their hands to forehead, and the Archigos returned their gesture perfunctorily, with a visible scowl. “Welcome, Starkkapitan,” ci’Noel said. “I’m certain that Commandant ca’Talin will welcome your arrival and your advice; he will be waiting at the palais also. Archigos, you’re welcome as well, especially since A’Teni ca’Paim’s death has left the Faithful here bereft of leadership. I know Commandant ca’Talin is desperate for the help of your war-teni.”
Ci’Noel said that last with a trace of a smile, and Jan realized that he probably suspected how few war-teni had followed the Archigos. The Archigos sniffed audibly. “I will be going to the Archigos’ Temple immediately to take up residence there and see what needs to be done,” he said to the aide. “I assume someone will guide us to the easiest way there.”
“Certainly, Archigos,” ci’Noel answered, “as soon as you’ve seen the Kraljica. She has asked that you be present at the meeting also.”
“It’s been a long ride,” the Archigos answered, “and as you can see, I’m not as young as others here…”
“The Kraljica expects your presence first, ” ci’Noel interrupted, and that brought up the Archigos’ head to glare at the man. “I’m certain the Hirzg understands the importance of state precedents, and has explained them to you.”
He’s taken lessons from Matarh… Jan almost smiled at the clever impertinence of the man. “The Archigos will undoubtedly want to hear the latest regarding Nico Morel,” Jan agreed, and Karrol’s glare now turned to him. “So he can make the best decision regarding Morel’s fate and that of his followers.”
“Indeed,” ci’Noel said, nodding vigorously before the Archigos could object. “There is news there that I’m sure she’s waiting to tell you.” He bowed again. “If you’ll follow me, Hirzg Jan. The citizenry, as you can see, are waiting to give you their own welcome.”
With that, one of the chevarittai led a horse forward and ci’Noel pulled himself onto the saddle. He nodded his head to Jan and tugged at the reins, turning his horse to continue westward.
The populace cheered as they proceeded under the arch of the gate and into Nessantico.
Allesandra ca’Vorl
She was more nervous than she’d imagined she would be. The hall of the Sun Throne had been set for the reception, and as she waited in the small room behind the throne’s dais with three palais e-teni and two of the hall servants, she could hear the servants bustling about making certain that everything was set. She’d been told that Hirzg Jan and the others were on the palais grounds, that Talbot and the Council of Ca’ were escorting them to the hall, and she went to the nearly transparent scrim to peer into the hall. There was a loud knock on the far door, and the palais door wards hurried to open it. Talbot entered, bowing and indicating that the Hirzg should enter.
For the first time in fifteen years, she saw her son.
He’d changed; he hadn’t changed. She certainly knew him immediately. The image of him as a young man burned in her mind was still there in this adult in the prime of his life. His hair had darkened and receded a bit, and there was a trace of gray at his temples that surprised her. She touched her own hair, knowing that the white was rapidly overpowering the color in her long, bound tresses. But his features: those were the eyes she remembered, with a hawk’s gaze that could send an arrow flying unerringly to the heart of a stag. The set of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, his confident stride; they were still as she remembered.
She wanted to part the curtain and run to him, yet she could not. This was to be a dance as intricate and tightly choreographed as any ce’Miella minuet. This was not the time for emotions to rule, but for diplomacy. Even with the challenge of the Tehuantin pressing against their doorstep, the niceties of society and position must be followed. So Allesandra waited as Jan and the Firenzcian contingent were escorted up to the open space before the throne’s dais, until the servants had hurried forward with trays of refreshments. Her councillors (with Varina joining them and holding Nico’s daughter) were standing in their own huddle; the Firenzcian chevarittai, like most warriors fresh from a long march, took the offered food and drink eagerly, Starkkapitan ca’Damont with them. Archigos Karrol stood in front of the steps of the dais and waved away the servants (to the evident consternation of the teni clustered around him); he seemed to be contemplating whether his position as Archigos would permit him to ascend the steps up to the dais, his face-when he lifted it from staring at the floor-was a mask of irritation. Jan took water but waved away the food, standing and speaking softly to Talbot in front of ci’Recroix’s massive painting of a peasant family. Jan was staring over Talbot’s shoulder at the stunningly lifelike figures on the canvas.
Erik was standing alone. Isolated. Ignored by both Firenzcians and Nessanticans. Somehow, Allesandra found that fitting.
Talbot glanced over toward the screen and nodded. He bowed briefly to Jan, then brushed past Archigos Karrol to ascend the dais and stand to one side of the Sun Throne. Conversation in the room failed as everyone looked at him. Faintly, Allesandra heard one of the e-teni with her start to chant and gesture. “Kraljica Allesandra ca’Vorl of the Holdings,” Talbot intoned, and the e-teni’s spell made his words boom and thunder in the hall, as if a Moitidi had spoken them. The other two e-teni were chanting now, and as the hall servants parted the curtain, they cast their own spells, surrounding Allesandra in a bath of faint golden light as she stepped out, as if she’d been caught in a moving shaft of noon sunlight. Those in the room bowed to her as one, the Archigos and teni instead favoring her with the sign of Cenzi. Talbot took to one knee as she approached.
Her heart was beating hard, her breath was too fast. Jan alone had not bowed his head. Instead, he stared at her, as she did toward him. Their gazes locked, and she hoped that he saw the affection there.
She took three steps forward, until she stood alongside the Sun Throne, but she didn’t sit, as she would have for a normal reception. Instead, she paused there, and she extended her hands toward Jan. “Hirzg,” she said. “Jan… Please…”
At the invitation, he bounded up the step
s of the dais- more like a young man than a ruler, more like the child she remembered. He took her proffered hands. “Matarh,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
She’d played out this moment a hundred times in her mind, anticipating a thousand different reactions. She’d imagined him angry or sullen or terribly proper and aloof. She’d even dared to imagine a tearful reunion. This… This tugged her lips into a wide, helpless smile, and she pressed her fingers against his.
“It’s good to see you, Jan,” she said, softly enough that only he could hear her. “I mean that, my son. I should never have waited this long, and you have my sincere apology for that.”
He smiled, but there was a caution there, and a wariness in his eyes. She saw him glance at the Sun Throne. “Would it light up if I sat there?” he asked her.
“It will,” she answered. “Soon enough.” And if you have the light-teni prepare beforehand. He would learn that soon enough, too; though the Sun Throne still shone when the Kraljica or Kraljiki sat on it, that light had been but a dim spark since Kraljica Marguerite’s time, visible only in twilight darkness. It now required the aid of light-teni to be noticeable in the day. She’d also learned that the trigger for the light wasn’t herself, but the signet ring of the Kralji-the light that the famous Archigos Siwel ca’Elad had enchanted within the crystalline depths would arise whenever anyone wearing the ring sat on the throne.
He had dropped her hands, though he was still smiling-as were all of those watching the historic encounter. He was too like her; he knew the importance of this moment, knew that it would set the tone for the future. “Matarh,” he said, loudly enough that all could hear him, “the army of Firenzcia has come again to help the Holdings and the Sun Throne.”
Applause and cheers broke at that statement, the sound washing over them as they stood on the dais. They both turned as they accepted the ovation. Allesandra felt a lightness she had not felt in a long time. She saw Erik among the audience, still isolated, near the Holdings councillors and chevarittai but not with them, and well away from the Firenzcians. He applauded as loudly as the others, but his grin was smug and self-satisfied. She hated it.
She took Jan’s hand in hers, lifting them both in the air. “To a new union,” she said loudly. “Of family, and of countries.”
The applause and cheers redoubled. The light and glow in the room brightened around both of them, and if Allesandra knew that it was only an effect of the light-teni huddled in the room behind the dais, it still seemed fitting and right.
That evening, after the reception and a brief Third Call blessing by Archigos Karrol, Talbot escorted them to the private dining room within her apartments in the palais. Allesandra walked with her arm linked in Jan’s; Archigos Karrol stumped along behind with a cane and a single teni attendant and Starkkapitan ca’Damont, while Erik trailed the company by a pace.
Waiting for them in the room were Sergei and Varina. Varina was empty-armed now, having given Nico’s daughter to the care of servants for the duration.
“Kraljica! Hirzg Jan!” Sergei’s voice boomed as Talbot opened the door and stepped aside. “You don’t know how delighted I am to see the two of you together! Matarh and son, as it should be. Hirzg Jan, you certainly remember Varina ca’Pallo, A’Morce of the Numetodo… “
Varina bowed to Jan, who returned the bow, but Allesandra heard a distinct hiss of distaste from Archigos Karrol. The man muttered something Allesandra couldn’t hear to his attendant.
“Please, sit,” Allesandra told them, gesturing to the round table Talbot had set up in the room, laden with decanters and covered plates. “There are refreshments, and we’ll have dinner brought in later. Jan, if you would sit next to me…” She watched the others settle around the table: Sergei to her left hand with Varina next to him; Archigos Karrol to Jan’s right, then Starkkapitan ca’Damont. Erik sat between the Firenzcians and the Nessanticans, with Varina and ca’Damont on either side of him; she saw him glance uncomfortably at ca’Damont, who had defeated his vatarh. The Archigos’ teni attendant and Talbot took a small table to one side of the room, near the servants’ door. Allesandra waited until they’d all settled and Talbot had gestured to the wait staff to pour wine.
“This is a momentous occasion,” she said finally, lifting her glass. “I would propose a toast to the renewed Holdings, and to my son, Hirzg of Firenzcia and now A’Kralj of the Holdings.”
“And to victory over the Tehuantin,” Sergei added.
Allesandra nodded. “To the Holdings, and to victory.” The phrase was echoed around the table, though Jan only lifted his glass with a smile, without saying anything.
“Kraljica, I appreciate the hospitality you’ve shown us,” Archigos Karrol said, though the expression on his face belied the words. “But the work of the Faith awaits me. I should go to the Old Temple and see what the vile Morellis have done. And I would like Nico Morel given over to me tonight, so that I may immediately place the judgment of the Faith on him.”
“So you may take his hands and tongue, you mean?” Allesandra asked the man, and Varina gasped. She stared at Allesandra, as if afraid that Allesandra would hand Nico over despite her promise. “So you may then execute him?”
The Archigos sniffed. “Indeed. Morel has placed this fate on himself, Kraljica. It’s not my doing. I will, of course, take hands and tongue publicly, in the Temple Square, so that everyone may see what happens to heretics who defy the Faith.” He glanced at Varina as he said the last.
“I’m afraid, Archigos, that I have changed Nico Morel’s fate, at the A’Morce Numetodo’s request,” Allesandra answered. “Nico Morel currently resides in the Bastida, and he will remain there at my pleasure.”
Karrol’s head turned toward Allesandra, like a turtle looking sideways. Both his hands were on the table, as if he were trying to decide whether to stand. Across the room, she saw his attendant start to rise; Talbot placed his hand on the young man’s arm, shaking his head. “How strange that a Numetodo unbeliever would be concerned with Morel’s life, since if Morel had his way, she would be in the Bastida or worse herself. But in any case, Nico Morel is the Faith’s business, not the crown’s or the Numetodo’s,” Karrol declared. “This is a matter of religion, not of state.”
“Ah.” Allesandra placed steepled hands under her chin. “Though war is a matter of state, Archigos. Tell me, how many war-teni did you bring with you?”
The Archigos hissed like a turtle, too, Allesandra decided. “I hear that it was less than two hands,” Allesandra continued. “So few. .. However, Sergei has promised me that Nico Morel will give us the war-teni of Nesssantico, and that he will also send word to those who refused to follow you, and that they will come at his call.” She saw Sergei nod at that, as Varina glanced at the silver-nosed man strangely. “It seems, Archigos, that Nico Morel is able to provide the state far more war-teni than you can. So I don’t think your business at the Old Temple is quite so pressing. I’ve already pardoned the teni and war-teni who followed Morel, provided they go to the front. Those few who still refused…” She lifted an uncaring shoulder. “Well, I will permit you to do with them as you will.”
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 teni followed Nico Morel rather than the unfortunate A’Teni ca’Paim, and your own war-teni 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 Cenzi 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 Mor
el.”
Karrol slammed his hands on the table, causing glasses to ring and china to clatter. “My Hirzg, 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-teni 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’teni 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’Teni 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-teni 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 Cenzi 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?”