by S L Farrell
As to love. .” He reached out as if to touch Ana’s hand; she drew back. The Archigos shrugged. “Well, that’s never been a necessity in a political marriage, has it?”
He paused, and Ana remained silent, still seated on the other side of the table and staring past the Archigos to the windows of her apartment without seeing any of the day outside. The Archigos pushed himself off his chair, giving her the sign of Cenzi. “You know I’m right,” he said. “And you know your place, I trust.”
“I know where you have placed me, yes, Archigos.” She could not move. She felt bound to the chair in which she sat, caught in cords she could not see.
He gave her a strange, twisted smile, and nodded.
Jan ca’Vorl
“We found her in the baggage train, my Hirzg, raiding the stores.” The offizier standing before Jan looked embarrassed by his tale. He stood well back, obviously uncertain how Jan would react. Markell, seated at the traveling desk with a sheaf of reports before him, stifled a chuckle as Jan frowned.
Allesandra stood trembling before Jan, hands clasped behind her back, her head bowed. “What do have to say for yourself?” he barked at his daughter. “You disobeyed me. What is your matarh thinking now?
She must be frantic.”
“I left Matarh a note,” Allesandra said to the floor. “And I told Naniaj that she had to pretend as long as she could. Maybe Matarh thinks I’m still with them-she never comes to my carriage unless she has to.”
Markell snorted. Jan glanced at him, shaking his head. “How long have you been gone?”
“Two days, Vatarh. I left the first night, so that I could find the army again.”
“You rode back alone in the night, unprotected? You snuck through our rear guards?”
She gave him the ghost of a nod. “I climbed into one of the wagons.
There was plenty of food there, Vatarh.”
“Those are the army’s supplies, food for our soldiers. Do you know what the punishment is for someone who steals from those wagons?”
She shook her head. He could see her shoulders beginning to shake with subdued tears. “We cut off their hands,” he told her harshly, “for they are no better than our enemies.”
Allesandra clutched her hands tightly to her stomach, but she did not cry. She lifted her face to Jan, and he had to force himself not to take her in his arms and hug her. “I wanted to be with you, Vatarh,” she said. “I wanted to learn to command an army. I wanted to learn to be a Hirzgin you would be proud of. I didn’t. . I didn’t eat very much.”
Her face was so penitent and sorrowful that he could not keep up the pretense any longer. He knelt down and opened his arms, and she ran to him. She broke into heaving sobs against his shoulder. “It’s a good thing you are the A’Hirzg,” he whispered to her, “because that means everything here also belongs to you.”
“You can’t send me back now, Vatarh,” she said fiercely, sniffing. “I won’t go. I won’t.”
Jan looked at Markell over her shoulder. Markell shook his head.
“This isn’t a place for a child, Allesandra.”
“I’m not a child. I’m the A’Hirzg. This is where I should be, with my vatarh the Hirzg, and besides, Matarh is days away and you will protect me and I will learn ever so much from you, and Georgi could continue to teach me. .”
Behind her, Markell busied himself with the reports.
“It will be dangerous,” Jan said. “There may be fighting, Allesandra.”
“Then teach me how to use a sword as you do, Vatarh, or have Georgi do it. I’ll learn fast. I will.”
Jan hugged her again. He sighed. “Markell,” Jan said. “Take a note to send to the Hirzgin with our fastest rider. Tell her that Allesandra is with her vatarh and safe, and that she will remain with me for the time being.”
Allesandra squealed happily. “Thank you, Vatarh. I’ll be good, I promise. Where is my sword? You promised.”
“No sword,” he told her. He unlaced the belt around his waist and and pulled from it a soiled leather scabbard holding a double-bladed knife with a jeweled hilt. He displayed it to her. “This is a knife Hirzg Karin, your great-vatarh, gave me when I was about your age.” He didn’t tell her that it was one of the few things the Hirzg ever gave Jan, or that the same day he’d given Ludwig, little more than a year older, a full suit of armor and a sword. “I give it to you now, and I’ll show you how to use it. For now, though, keep it in a pocket of your tashta.”
Allesandra took the knife and clutched it as if it were the most precious gift he could have given her. “Thank you, Vatarh,” she said.
“Thank you so much. I will learn. I will learn everything you have to teach me.”
“You will,” Jan said, almost sadly, “whether it’s what you want to learn or not. Markell, summon O’Offizier ci’Arndt. We have an additional assignment for him.”
Karl ci’Vliomani
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon, Ana,” he said. “In fact, I wondered. . well, no matter. I’m truly glad for the chance to speak with you again.” He smiled at her, taking her hands in his.
He thought she would pull away immediately; she did not, and he let his hands linger. He enjoyed the touch, enjoyed looking at her face, at the eyes that stared into his. You can’t, Karl. You can’t. There’s Kaitlin, waiting for you back in Paeti. . He released her hand with a quick, uncertain smile and went to the window, glancing down at the teni-driven carriage waiting in the street below. “I’m surprised you’d be so open about meeting me, Ana, I have to admit. But I’m glad you came.”
He saw her face relax slightly at that, but the determination in her face remained. “I’m tired of everything being hidden. I don’t want to hide anything,” she told him, and there was heat and anger in her voice that seemed to emanate from somewhere else. “But you need to know that I’ve kept my promise to you from the other night, and I’ll continue to keep it.”
“I know you will,” he told her, “or I wouldn’t have made the invitation in the first place. I knew when I saw you. .” He stopped, shaking his head. He gestured to a chair without saying more. “Would you sit?
I could have someone bring up refreshments. .” She shook her head, and he could see the agitation in her: in the way she paced the room, in the shine that touched her eyes, in her quick breath. She went to the fire and held her hands out to the flames. He could see her trembling, and he came to her, touching her gently on the shoulder. “Ana, what’s troubling you? What’s happened?”
She gave an odd bark of a laugh that turned into a choked sob, turning to him. “Everything.” She spread her arms wide, her teni’s robes flaring with the motion as if she were giving Cenzi’s Blessing. A single tear tracked its way down her cheek, and she brushed at it. “I’ve lost my ability,” she told him. “The Gift I had. Since you showed me what the Numetodo do. . I can’t. .”
She began to cry fully then. He watched her, wanting to go to her but not daring to, until the pain and sorrow in her made him take a step, then another. She made no resistance when he folded her into his arms. She leaned into his embrace, burying her face into his shoulder. He held her silently, one hand stroking her hair. He pressed his lips into the fragrance of her hair, touching his lips to the strands. She felt. .
She felt as if she belonged there. Guilt tore through him for the thought.
After a few moments, she sniffed and pushed away; he released her as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I. . we. . I shouldn’t have. This isn’t what I came here for.”
He wanted to embrace her again. Her sorrow and distress pulled at him. Fool. You can’t afford this. Think of what you’re here for. What about Kaitlin, who said she would always wait for you, always be faithful, and you told her the same. . He forced himself to remain where he was.
He tried to think of Kaitlin, but he found that he couldn’t remember her face; it was hazy in his memory, a ghost that seemed to belong to another person’s past. You’
ve been away for a year and more already; you haven’t heard from Kaitlin in months and months. She may have found someone else. .
Ana was here, though. She’s your enemy. She’s a tool you intended to use. But the reminder didn’t convince, not when he saw her this way.
Not when she pulled at him the way she did.
“What do you mean, you lost your gift?” he asked.
Haltingly, she told him. “I noticed when. .” She stopped, pressed her lips together, and he realized that she was holding something back from him. “I noticed the next time I tried to use the Ilmodo. I couldn’t.
I called to Cenzi, but He wouldn’t come, wouldn’t let me shape the Ilmodo as I used to. I felt like an apprentice again, stumbling through the simplest spell.” She looked at him, and he thought he saw both accusation and hope in her eyes. “Did you do it, Envoy?” she asked. “An enchantment, a Numetodo spell. .?”
He shook his head. “No,” he told her softly. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Ana. I don’t expect you to believe that, but it’s the truth. Even if I could manage that-and I can’t-I wouldn’t have done that to you.
No, I’m afraid you did this to yourself.”
That sounded cruel even to his ears, and he brought a hand up both against her protest and in apology. “Ana, let me explain. With the Numetodo, everyone finds their own individual path to the Scath Cumhacht. Each of us uses a slightly different technique, our own words and gestures. That’s where we’re different. You teni use your faith to open the Second World; we use a standard routine, one that we must discover ourselves, no different than an herbalist who mixes the in-gredients of her potions in the same quantities each time so that the effects are always the same. Your faith. .” He shook his head. “I think it’s just another formula. A routine. What you saw, well, it shook that faith, and so. .”
“No!” she shouted at him. “Stop. I know what you’re saying, and I don’t believe it. I still believe. I do. Cenzi is punishing me.”
“I told you the other night that I could show you our path,” Karl said. “I still could. Your gift isn’t gone, Ana. It’s still there-and it doesn’t matter whether you believe in Cenzi or not. It’s still there.” He took a stride toward her, taking her hands in his. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away. He could see that she wanted to believe him. He brought her to him. Their faces were close. So close. Kaitlin. . “I can show you, Ana. I will.”
As he said the words, he heard the creaking of the door behind them. Ana’s eyes widened and her gaze shifted. “How touching,” a voice said drolly, and as Karl started to turn, releasing Ana’s hands so his own were free, the voice tsked in caution. “Now, Envoy ci’Vliomani, what did I tell you the last time we met? There’s no need for violence here.”
Commandant ca’Rudka stood at the door, his sword still in its scabbard and a sardonic grin on his face. In the hall beyond, Karl could see the woman who owned the building cowering against the
far wall with her keys in her hand, and two gardai in the uniform of the Bastida, both holding crossbows with bolts nocked and ready.
Ca’Rudka motioned to the two, and they lowered their bows slightly.
“O’Teni cu’Seranta,” he said, bowing slightly and giving her the sign of Cenzi. “Your driver said you would be here. Evidently the envoy’s dancing at the Gschnas impressed you more than the Archigos
believed.”
Ana’s face, when Karl glanced at her, was pale, all the color gone from her cheeks. “Commandant,” she said. She took a breath, drawing herself up. “The Vajiki and I have been discussing religion. I had hopes of making him see the error of the Numetodo.”
“Indeed, that’s a noble exercise,” ca’Rudka said. He entered the room, the two gardai following, closing the door on the landlady’s curious face. “But somehow I doubt that the Vajiki is convinced of the greatness of Cenzi and the Faith.” He went over to the sill of the window, where Karl had set the plant the commandant had given him.
Ca’Rudka touched a fingertip to the soil, then looked at the black earth clinging there. “Damp,” he said. “I’m impressed, Vajiki.” He looked at the plant. “But I’m afraid it’s only a common weed after all. You’re wast-ing your efforts.”
“Why are you here, Commandant?” Karl asked. He could feel the tension gnawing at his belly. This is what Mika feared. It’s begun. . He knew it, knew by the way the commandant glanced around the room, knew from the careful stares of the gardai whose weapons never quite moved away from him. “If it’s a social call, as you can see, I’m otherwise engaged.”
“Unfortunately, I’m here in my official capacity,” ca’Rudka answered. “Vajiki ci’Vliomani, I regret to inform you that you are under arrest. Now, you will give O’Offizier ce’Falla your hands. . Unfortunately, we can’t risk you using the Ilmodo. Please don’t move, Vajiki, nor you, O’Teni, until the o’offizier is done.” The garda moved forward quickly as the other kept his crossbow carefully aimed at Karl’s chest.
Karl held out his hands, and ce’Falla confined them in metal cuffs. He saw another device on the man’s belt: a contraption with straps and a gag. He shuddered, knowing that would be next.
“What is it I’ve supposedly done, Commandant? Am I allowed to know that?”
“Certainly,” ca’Rudka answered. He reached into a pouch on his belt, withdrawing a length of chain. On the end dangled a stone shell.
“This was found around the painter ci’Recroix’s neck when his body was discovered. Does it seem familiar to you, Vajiki?” Ca’Rudka looked at Karl’s chest, where a similar symbol rested. “You needn’t answer; I see that it does.”
Karl glanced at Ana, who was standing with her hand on her breast.
Karl suspected he knew what she hid there under her robes, and he shook his head at her warningly as ca’Rudka followed his gaze.
“I’m sorry, O’Teni,” ca’Rudka said to Ana, “but I’m afraid Vajiki ci’Vliomani is under arrest for plotting the assassination of the Kraljica.”
Repercussions
Ana cu’Seranta
She kept hearing what Karl had said as the commandant led him away. She clung to the words in desperation. “Trust yourself, Ana. No matter what they say to you, no matter what they do, trust yourself and what you feel in your heart. That will give you back everything you’ve lost.”
Then the carriage door closed as it hurried off toward the Bastida.
The commandant had escorted her back to her quarters, a silent ride in his private carriage. “I’m sorry, O’Teni,” he’d said finally when he’d walked her to the sheltered back entrance of the building, away from curious eyes. “We all have our duties to perform, as I’m sure you know.”
She rushed into the apartment, closing the door to her bedroom and refusing to let any of the servants in to attend to her. She didn’t cry; she felt beyond tears. Outside, the world bloomed with spring, but inside her, everything was snared in the desolation of winter. She sat, silent, watching the flames dance in the hearth. She couldn’t tell whether she had no thoughts at all, or so many that she could not hear them for the uproar they made.
That night, the Archigos summoned her to a private viewing for the a’teni of the Kraljica’s body. Watha handed her the robes the Archigos had sent over: not the traditional green, but off-white: the color of bone, the color of death. She put them on dully, without feeling them. At the temple, Kenne, also robed in that sad white, brought her to the Archigos. The dwarf asked nothing; he only looked at her with sorrow, as if disappointed. “Come,” he said. “Let us say our good-byes to Marguerite.”
She walked with him. A river of bone white flowed through the doors up to the flat, polished granite stone that was the altar of Cenzi.
The body of the Kraljica lay there, resting on cushions of brilliant yellow with trumpet flowers arranged around her. Her face was already covered by a gold-plated death mask sculpted in her likeness. Her hair, brushed and perfect, was caught in the ornate hairpin of abalone and pearls that
Ana had seen the first time she met the Kraljica, and the scent of incense and perfume hung heavily about her. The iron rod of Henri VI lay cradled in her left hand; in her right hand, the palm upturned, was the signet ring of the Kralji. Around the Stone of Cenzi, wreaths had been laid, and from the forest of greenery and ribbons rose seven candelabra of crystal from the mountains of Sesemora, each with teni-light globes so furiously alight so that the Kraljica seemed to recline in the radiance of the sun.
Seeing the Kraljica so still, composed, and masked, Ana finally did cry. Unashamed, she let the tears flow as she knelt in front of the bier, her head bowed. She didn’t care that the Archigos, the gathered a’teni, and ca’Cellibrecca and all the others were watching and making their own judgments.
It was my fault. I should have been able to save you, Kraljica, but I had betrayed Cenzi. .
But she did not pray. She didn’t think Cenzi would listen to her.
The Archigos touched her shoulder in sympathy, though he had said nothing to her as they left beyond the necessary talk: no rebukes, no accusations. She was certain that he knew she’d been with Karl when he’d been arrested. The commandant would have told him, and Watha or Sunna or Beida must have whispered to him about how distraught she was when she returned.
“Tomorrow,” the Archigos told her and the rest of his staff as they left the temple, “the doors of the Archigos’ Temple on the South Bank will open at dawn, so that the A’Kralj and all the Kraljica’s nephews and nieces may have their first official viewing. You’ll accompany me there, Ana-the rest of you will be taking your shifts this evening and tonight in attendance to the Kraljica at the temple. After the A’Kralj has paid his respects to his matarh, there will be the day-long procession of the ca’-and-cu’-again, you’ll be required to take shifts in attendance while the ca’-and-cu’ file through. Kenne, I’m placing you in charge of the scheduling. Ana, you’ll be needed again for the funeral carriage’s procession at midnight around the Avi a’Parete; you’ll accompany me in my carriage. Is that understood?”