A Magic of Twilight nc-1
Page 36
“I don’t know how to explain it, Commandant.”
“I’d suggest you try, Capitaine,” Sergei told him. “I suggest you try very hard, and immediately.”
Rather than answer, Capitaine ci’Doulor’s gaze went from Sergei to the garda. Sergei followed the motion. “You!” Sergei snapped. “Tell me what happened here.”
The man saluted and came into the cell. He stood at attention before Sergei. His eyes were focused more on Sergei’s silver nose than his eyes. “The prisoner hadn’t eaten for two days, Commandant,” he said.
“Not since the night that we found E’Offizier ce’Naddia unconscious at his post.”
Sergei frowned. “What? I wasn’t told of that. Was Capitaine ci’Doulor aware of this event?”
The man nodded. “We told him, sir.”
“Ce’Naddia fell asleep at his post, Commandant,” ci’Doulor said.
“That’s all. He has been disciplined severely.”
Sergei nodded. “Undoubtedly. You said ci’Vliomani wasn’t eating?”
he asked the garda.
“No sir, not since that night. The prisoner just sat there on his bed, his eyes closed. Wouldn’t answer any question we asked of him, or respond if we. . well, if we tried to get him to respond. Two days he was that way.”
“What happened tonight?”
The garda glanced again at the capitaine, as if waiting for him to answer. He took a breath and continued. “About a turn ago, I noticed that it was cold here, as cold as the middle of winter. My teeth were chattering, sir, and I could hardly hold onto my sword when I drew it.
I could see ci’Vliomani in the middle of the cell, and there was wind swirling around him, and a glow all around. I called for the gardai below to get the capitaine, and when he came. .”
Sergei glanced at the insignia on the man’s uniform. “What’s your name, E’Offizier?”
“Aubri ce’Ulcai, Commandant.”
“E’Offizier ce’Ulcai, how long was it before Capitaine ci’Doulor arrived?” Sergei asked the man.
Ce’Ulcai gave a sidewise glance at the capitaine. “I’m certain he came as quickly as he could, Commandant.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
The man pressed his lips together at Sergei’s tone. “The gardai
below told me the capitaine would be up as soon as he finished his supper. I don’t know how long that was, sir. Not for certain.”
Sergei nodded. “Capitaine?” Sergei said, and ci’Doulor’s eyes returned to him. “What happened when you finally arrived?”
Ci’Doulor licked his lips. “I looked in, and I saw ci’Vliomani.”
“As e’Offizier ce’Ulcai described?”
“Yes, Commandant. I felt the cold and the wind, and saw the glow.”
“And you didn’t immediately send for me, or for one of the teni?”
“I thought. . After all, the man was still in chains and silenced. No. No, sir. I didn’t.”
Sergei glanced back to ce’Ulcai. “You opened the cell door?”
“I didn’t want to, Commandant,” he said. “I told the capitaine so.
But he ordered me to open it.”
Sergei nodded. “You did as you should, then, E’Offizier. The capitaine went in? You saw what happened then?”
A nod. “The capitaine went in. He went up to the prisoner, shouting at him to stop. I saw him take his bludgeon and hit the man. As soon as he did, right at the moment the capitaine touched him. .”
Ce’Ulcai shivered. “The cold became worse than anything I’ve ever
felt, and the glow was so bright I couldn’t see anything at all. I heard the capitaine scream, and I started into the cell myself, but the wind threw me back into the wall, right there where you see the marks.” He pointed out of the cell to the landing, where a few of the stones showed light scrapes in the dark surface. He touched the back of his head, and Sergei saw blood on his fingertips when he brought them away. “I hit the wall hard. When I managed to get up again, the cold and light were gone, and the only person in the cell was the capitaine. The prisoner had vanished. I went to the balcony, thinking he’d jumped, but there was no body in the courtyard, and even Numetodo can’t fly. None of the gardai below say they heard or saw anyone on the stairs.” The man ducked his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Sergei ignored the apology. “Capitaine, is this man’s story true?”
Ci’Doulor nodded. “Yes, Commandant. There was sorcery here.
Numetodo work.”
“You had a guard rendered unconscious two days ago and since
then the prisoner was unresponsive, and you didn’t inform me. When you were told that there was something odd happening here earlier this evening, you decided that finishing your supper was more important.
Seeing sorcery inside the cell, rather than inform me or someone in the Kraljiki’s or Archigos’ offices, you ordered this e’offizier to unlock the cell. You went inside. Alone. And now the prisoner is. . gone. Are any of those facts substantially incorrect, Capitaine?”
Miserably, ci’Doulor shook his head. “It just wasn’t possible for him to escape, Commandant. We both know that.”
“Then he’s still here, eh? I’m sure you’re right. Then I’ll leave you to search the cell thoroughly.”
The sarcasm struck ci’Doulor like a lash to his head. “Commandant, I’m sorry. I should have. .”
Sergei lifted his hand, shaking his head at the same time and silencing the capitaine. “No, Capitaine. This is entirely my fault and I’ll accept the blame. It was my decision to leave you in charge of the Bastida when you were obviously not competent to perform that function.
Therefore, I lost the prisoner, not you. But I can at least rectify my mistake so it won’t be repeated. I relieve you of your command.”
Sergei gestured to ce’Ulcai to leave ahead of him, then walked to the cell door. Ci’Doulor was still standing in the center of the room, his body slumped, and now he began to follow them. Sergei shut the door in the man’s face. As ci’Doulor called out in alarm-“Commandant!
What are you doing?”-he turned a key in the lock and closed the viewhole in the center of the door. There were muffled screams and cries from the cell and a pounding of fists on the door. Sergei handed the set of keys to ce’Ulcai.
“Your rank is now o’offizier,” Sergei told him. “I’ll have another of the Bastida gardai relieve you from your post immediately. Have the Bastida’s healer look at the wound on your head; tomorrow morning
after First Call, report directly to me at the office of the Garde Civile. I can use competence there.”
Sergei gave the sign of Cenzi to the man and went back down the long staircase, wondering how he would tell the Kraljiki and A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca what had happened, and wondering why he felt more
relieved than angry.
Dhosti ca’Millac
“You’re certain of this?” Dhosti asked Kenne. His secretary nodded.
“It came directly from our source in the Bastida, Archigos,” Kenne had told him. “I just received the message.”
So the Kraljiki has ordered the execution of the Numetodo, despite Ana.
And ci’Vliomani has vanished somehow. That will only inflame them further.
I wonder if Ana knows yet. .? The beginnings of a headache throbbed on either side of his forehead, and his shoulders sagged. He suddenly felt very tired and very old.
“I’ll have to speak with the Kraljiki,” Dhosti said. “Immediately. I pray that it’s not true, though if ci’Vliomani has truly escaped, I’m glad, though I doubt the poor man can evade Commandant ca’Rudka for long. Let me just finish this letter, and. .”
He had no time to finish. Dhosti heard the commotion in his outer office: one of his staff member’s loud voice protesting that the Archigos could not be disturbed. Then the tall, double doors pushed open and A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca strode through, his robes swirling. There was a quartet of gardai from the Garde Kralji with him. Dh
osti’s e’teni recep-tionist trailed after them, still protesting.
The expression on ca’Cellibrecca’s face told Dhosti everything he needed to know.
“E’Teni,” he said. “A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca is always welcome in my offices. Please return to your duties.” He looked at Kenne, who was glaring angrily at ca’Cellibrecca. “Kenne, why don’t you deliver the package I gave you earlier while A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca and I talk?”
Kenne’s head snapped away from ca’Cellibrecca. “Archigos? You’re certain? I can stay here, in case you might need me.”
“Go on,” he said. “You should deliver the package. Please. And tell the teni in the office that we should not be interrupted. For any reason.”
Kenne’s eyes widened, but he gave the sign of Cenzi to the Archigos and-perfunctorily-to ca’Cellibrecca, closing the doors behind them.
Dhosti placed the quill he’d been using back in its holder and stoppered the ink. He blotted the paper in front of him, then folded his hands on top. “Orlandi,” he said. He deliberately didn’t look at the soldiers. “This would seem to be more than a social visit. I hope you’re not making a foolish mistake.”
“The mistake was yours, Dhosti, when you deliberately ignored the Divolonte. Not even the Archigos can do that.” Ca’Cellibrecca seemed unable to keep a smug half-smile from his face.
“You have proof of this? I would like to see it.”
“And you will, when you are brought before the Guardians of the Faith and the Concord A’Teni.”
“And you, as Tete of the Guardians, will no doubt endeavor to give me a fair trial.”
Ca’Cellibrecca’s smile broadened. “I assure you that I will follow the precepts of the Divolonte, as I have sworn to do.”
“No doubt.” Dhosti wondered how long he could stall here before he would have to submit to the inevitable. You had the throne of the Archigos for nearly eighteen years, longer than many. Eighteen good years, and you helped the Kraljica become the Genera a’Pace, the great creator of peace.
You knew when the Kraljica was murdered that this might be coming. .
“And no doubt you will take the throne as the new Archigos before the seat has even grown cold.”
“That decision will be up to the Conclave, as it has always been.”
“I’m an old man, Orlandi. All it would have required is patience on your part and you might have been the Archigos in a few years anyway.
Perhaps less. Cenzi will be coming for me soon.”
“You think I could wait while you maneuver your own heir into position?” Ca’Cellibrecca sniffed. “Surely you don’t think me that stupid.
Cenzi will send you to the Hags for your sins against Him, Archigos, and for your arrogance. Were I you, that would not be something I’d be anticipating with pleasure. But the Guardians will leave to Cenzi the decision of when you visit the Hags.”
Dhosti had seen the sad ones convicted by the Guardians, the teni who had violated their vows and been cast out from the Concenzia
Faith, their hands cut off and their tongues removed so that they could no longer use the Ilmodo. Their terrible wounds were always cauter-ized, so that they might not die of them. They might wander for years as visible warnings of what the Faith would do to those who betrayed it.
Dhosti imagined himself in that state, and his bowels turned queasily.
“Who accuses me, Orlandi? You? Your cronies within Concenzia? Are you sure you have enough of the a’teni in your pocket?”
“The Kraljiki himself makes the accusation, Archigos. Justi himself will testify to the Guardians against you and O’Teni cu’Seranta. I’m certain that when the a’teni hear the Kraljiki speak, those who have hesitated will be convinced. I’ve already spoken to ca’Fountaine and ca’Sevini; they agree with me that the Concord should be convened immediately.”
The words came with the finality of a sword strike to a bare neck.
It’s done, then. There is no hope. “Honestly, I would prefer you kill me outright, Orlandi. Now, if you like. I would accept the blow. That would be kinder than what the Guardians will do, and we both know it. We’ve never been friends, but even you would acknowledge that I care about the Faith as much as you do. All that I’ve done, I’ve done because I truly believed my course to be the right one, and I would say the same of you, Orlandi, even though we disagree. Slay me now, if that’s what it’s to be. I won’t beg, but I ask you to have that much pity on me.”
Ca’Cellibrecca laughed. “You’d have me disobey the Divolonte?
No, Dhosti. I’ve already called the Guardians to the chamber. You’ll be taken first to the Bastida, where Commandant ca’Rudka will oversee that your confession is taken and any other names given to us so we may interrogate them. Afterward, you’ll be brought before the Conclave A’Teni and the Guardians and the correct punishment will be meted out. Your disobedience to the laws will be made public, so everyone will know your shame when you are cast out from the Archigos’
Temple without your tongue or hands.”
A winter storm lodged in Dhosti’s gut, howling and freezing. His face was solemn and pale as he rose from behind the desk. The gardai around ca’Cellibrecca came to quick alertness, their hands going to weapon hilts. He knew that if he started to call the Ilmodo, if he began to move his hands in the pattern of a spell, they would strike. For a moment he considered whether that would be better, but he suspected that he would only end up wounded, not dead. This battle could not realistically be won. He could not prevail here: not at this moment. Not with the Kraljiki as ca’Cellibrecca’s ally.
No, there was only one feeble hope here and that was to flee so he could fight at a different time and place, when the odds might be better.
The Kraljiki would realize soon enough that he’d placed a dangerous snake on the throne of the Archigos.
If Dhosti were to be there when that happened, he would have to go to ground now. He would have to hide himself with those who might remain sympathetic to him. He hoped he’d given Kenne enough time.
Dhosti spread his hands wide as he backed away from the desk.
Once, you’d have been able to do this easily. Once, you wouldn’t have even needed to think about it.
But that had been so many years ago. Too many. .
The floor-to-ceiling doors to his balcony were open to admit the breeze from the plaza below, three stories down. There were balconies studding the outer wall of the building below, and a pole that flew the broken globe banner of the Concenzia Faith set to the right, half a story below. He’d stood on his balcony over the years and seen the possibility that he envisioned now: a running leap up onto the railing to get some speed, then a headfirst jump to the pole. Come in above it and catch it with reversed hands-let the momentum swing you around. Release just as you hit the banner-the fall from there would be somewhat blind because of the flag, but you should be able to reach the balcony directly below this one. Run out into the rooms there, into the main hallway and down the northeast stairway.
They’ll think you’re heading for the plaza, but keep going down to the tunnels under the plaza. You mapped out an escape route from the tunnels months ago, one you hope that those following you won’t know.
You could do it. Once upon a time. You only have to do it this once more.
Once more: for Ana, for Kenne, for the Kraljica, for those who believe as you do. But you can’t hesitate. You must have faith. Faith, Dhosti.
He could feel the doubt- you’re too old, Dhosti, and even back then you used the Ilmodo, even if you didn’t realize it. All that meditation before the performance you used to do, your hands moving through the routines. .
He forced the pessimism down and away.
He took a breath. He smiled at ca’Cellibrecca.
Then he turned and ran.
He heard the shouts behind him: as he jumped clumsily, grunting, to the marble rail around the balcony, as he bent his knees and tried not to look at the long fall to the flagstones b
elow, as he narrowed his gaze so that all he saw was the pole below and to the side.
He leaped.
He’d forgotten the strange sense of freedom that came with falling, the feeling that he’d surrendered himself to the hands of Cenzi. The wind fluttered his robes, tore at the wispy strands of hair, teared his eyes. He seemed to move in slow motion-as he once had, his body remembering the necessary positions. He saw the pole and reached out, his tiny fingers snaring the cold metal, the shock of the impact trembling the flabby, ancient muscles of his arms. The weight of his body and the force of his motion ripped his right hand from the pole, his short legs flailing to one side. Dhosti gripped the pole desperately with his left hand, but now the skewed angle took his body sideways and out.
His finger slipped. He reached desperately for the banner there and found cloth. He dug his fingers into it as he started to fall again.
He heard the sound of ripping, tearing fabric. He was still holding onto the banner, but the piece he held tore away. He could see the colors in his fisted hand and he was falling free.
He had time only to pray to Cenzi that he would not feel the pain for very long.
Ana cu’Seranta
“Out of my way, woman!”
Ana heard the muffled shout from outside the doors as they rattled in their frames and were flung open. Kenne rushed in with Watha trailing him in wide-eyed panic. Kenne’s face was flushed and his hair was tousled and windblown. He panted as he touched clasped hands to forehead. “O’Teni,” he said, then had to stop for a breath. “You must leave. Now.” The panic in Kenne’s voice was palpable.
“Leave?” Ana frowned. “Kenne, what’s happened?”
He shook his head. “There isn’t time to explain. Ca’Cellibrecca just came with Garde Kralji to the Archigos’ office. The Archigos spoke a. .” Another pause, another hurried breath, a swallow. “. . code phrase he’d given me not long ago, just in case. You have to leave, have to hide. So do I.”
Ana blinked at the torrent of impossible words. “I’ll go to the Kraljiki. .” she began, but Kenne cut off her protest.
“Ca’Cellibrecca wouldn’t move against the Archigos without the Kraljiki’s knowledge. There’s no hope there. Ana, they ordered all the Numetodo executed.”