The Warring States (The Wave Trilogy)

by Aidan Harte

Catrina was implacable. ‘It was self-defence. Nothing threatens a queen more than a princess – Andronikos should have known better. He always did underestimate me.’

  ‘Monster!’ Sofia cried.

  ‘Silence! I don’t owe you an explanation. Would it have been better if the Grand Master had done it? I’m no hypocrite.’

  Sofia looked at Fulk. ‘He wouldn’t!’

  ‘I know my men.’ Catrina’s lip curled. ‘Better at least than a foreign whore.’

  Levi looked at the Lazars surrounding the queen. ‘Sofia, leave it.’

  But Sofia couldn’t. ‘You never intended to help us, did you? You just used us to draw Andronikos into rebellion.’

  ‘Child, this is what it means to be queen. Your people abandoned us to our struggle and it made us strong. I return the favour.’

  Weeping, Sofia broke away from Levi. Fulk caught hold of her, but she flung him off too. ‘Don’t touch me, Leper!’

  ‘Sofia, come back!’

  There was nowhere to flee but the palace.

  On her way to her chamber, Sofia passed the patriarch, standing alone in the Ancestor Room. He was staring lovelorn at a particular mask and he started away guiltily at the sound of her feet. ‘Contessa! I was just – that is—’

  ‘You know what your mistress did?’

  ‘Ah. Done, is it?’ he said quietly. ‘Unfortunate business.’

  ‘You too,’ Sofia said numbly.

  ‘Contessa, be fair. Queen Catrina cannot allow rebellion to tear apart her kingdom. Andronikos was a viper.’

  ‘But the child – how could she?’

  ‘How could she not? Anyone close to the throne is close enough to be tempted: guards, courtiers, family. That’s what makes the Lazars perfect praetorians. They die young and cannot reproduce – even if one persuaded a woman to sell herself, the disease makes them sterile. Don’t judge Catrina too harshly; you don’t know the wars she has survived.’

  ‘So others should suffer?’

  The patriarch looked at Sofia sadly. ‘She suffers too. The queen is God’s anointed, and as He gave His only son, so Catrina gave Fulk to a leper wet nurse. With the milk, the child consumed death.’

  Sofia stared at the patriarch. ‘He’s her son?’

  ‘Etruria left us to die. To survive this merciless land we had to become merciless too.’

  Sofia looked around hopelessly at the imperturbable cruel masks. Beneath his scars, Fulk looked like them.

  Later that evening, Sofia found Fulk and Arik talking on the wall. Fulk stood. ‘Perhaps I should go.’

  ‘Please, don’t. I’m sorry for what I said. You didn’t have a choice. She condemned you.’

  ‘We’re all condemned, Contessa. A knight’s life is not measured in years.’ In the darkness behind the mask, Fulk’s soft eyes shone with the loyalty of a hound.

  ‘Why do you still defend her?’

  ‘There’s no greater joy than to know one’s duty in life.’ He bowed to her. ‘I understand you’re upset, but I will not blacken my queen’s name.’

  ‘She blackens her own name!’ Sofia shouted as Fulk walked away.

  ‘Nice apology,’ Arik said.

  She turned on him. ‘Did you know what she planned?’

  ‘No, but the crimes of the Franj have long ceased to surprise me. The queen’s actions, repugnant as they were, were logical. Your title, Contessa – did many siblings aspire for it also?’

  When Sofia admitted that she had none, Arik said, ‘That follows. Familial bonds are helpful when a family is striving to rise, but when it reaches the summit, the competition does not cease but intensifies. Your sister, your brother, formerly your closest allies, become your closest rivals.’ He paused. ‘I speak, as you know, from experience.’

  ‘You never told me how you escaped.’

  ‘When I was very young my father made me a hostage to the queen’s grandfather. That’s when Fulk and I became friends. My father wanted me to learn the ways of the Franj and I cursed him for it. Now I know he was giving me an escape route. When I saw Yusuf sharpening his knife, where else could I go? One man in the desert is a dead man. I fled to Akka and offered Catrina my dagger.’ He smiled with embarrassment. ‘I know the land as well as any Ebionite, better than any of her men. I see how you look at me, Sofia. You are thinking, you are thinking, “This scoundrel betrayed his people.” I will tell you the manner of men I betrayed. The Prophetess led a righteous rebellion against foreign oppressors. My brother’s running dogs dishonour the name of Sicarii. Freedom fighters – ha! They prey on the baggage trains that cross the desert, murdering Oltremarines and extorting Ebionites. What courage. What folly. The last hope of overthrowing the Franj vanished with the Old Man of the Mountain. My brother knows that, as do the other Ebionite tribes. Individually you will find no men stronger, but they value their freedom too much to submit to a king and that’s what keeps them weak.’

  ‘Do all Ebionites think their cause so hopeless?’

  ‘The Sicarii believe there is hope, but what does their sincerity count for? They are misguided. My brother – a black year on him – is no patriot.’

  Sofia was sickened by this compromised, hedging world. ‘And you are a slave!’

  Arik’s hand went quickly to his dagger, but there he stopped. ‘Perhaps,’ he said at last. ‘And what are you, Contessa?’

  She could no longer deny it. ‘A prisoner.’

  CHAPTER 81

  Though the young Prince Jorge had managed to maintain order after word came north of Andronikos’ death, the army was likely to stay in the vicinity of Byzant until things were more stable. This allowed Leto to withdraw some troops from the Dalmatian frontier to Concord, enough to restore absolute order in the Old City and to mop up the last of Geta’s bravos, who had outlived their usefulness.

  The next step was bringing Etruria to heel.

  The Ariminumese delegation sat opposite Torbidda and Leto at the stone table. Leto had left Ariminum on bad terms and his attitude to the smiling procurator was not conciliatory.

  ‘I was most gratified to receive your invitation, First Apprentice. Though we afforded General Spinther every opportunity to catch Contessa Scaligeri, he was – if I may say – rather rude when she escaped. How it was our fault, I can’t imagine. Look, things were said in the heat of the moment … we are willing to forget. For our part the deal negotiated still stands.’

  ‘I would have promised anything to scupper the league,’ said Leto.

  ‘Of course. Nevertheless an alliance between Concord and Ariminum is logical. Our ambitions do not overlap, but our common enemy, if we are to realise our ambitions unhindered, is Oltremare.’

  ‘So you want our siege-engines?’ said Torbidda neutrally.

  ‘And engineers to teach the arsenalotti to operate them. Give us the sea, First Apprentice, and Etruria is yours.’

  The procurator had brought Admiral Azizi along ‘for his expertise’, though the Moor did little beside study Torbidda with unconcealed curiosity. The procurator’s giddiness made up for the admiral’s reserve; since Torbidda appeared willing to countenance the alliance, he was full of ideas for postinvasion arrangements.

  Leto felt obliged to sound a note of military caution. ‘First Apprentice, it’s one thing moving markers on a map, quite another in the field. Sappers can only do the job if they land. I’m sure Admiral Azizi will agree that establishing a beachhead in Akka would be difficult.’

  When the Moor said nothing, the procurator waved his hand dismissively. ‘The Queen’s navy is old. Pirates like Azizi here are as much as they can deal with. Our armada will overwhelm them.’

  ‘You’re being complacent,’ said Leto. ‘I saw no galley equal to the Tancred in all Ariminum.’

  ‘The Tancred is but one ship,’ said the procurator. ‘Our Arsenale can churn out a galley a day. And our munitions a—’

  ‘May I interrupt?’ the Moor boomed suddenly.

  ‘Oh,’ the procurator said doubtfully, ‘by all means.’


  ‘With Concord’s recent convulsions, First Apprentice, I understand construction of the sea-corridor has been postponed. Is this so?’

  ‘Amongst other things.’

  ‘Why go to the trouble of building a harbour when I can give you one?’

  Leto looked at the Moor as if seeing him for the first time. ‘I think the Ariminumese government might object.’

  ‘Not if they’re hanging from the yardarms of my galleys.’

  ‘Praetorian.’ Torbidda pointed at the stunned procurator. ‘Arrest this man,’

  Leto gave a start. ‘Are you mad, Torbidda? What is this?’

  ‘A gesture of good faith. Admiral Azizi works for Queen Catrina, Leto.’

  When the Moor bowed in acknowledgment, the procurator leapt up, spitting, ‘Slave, you bite the hand that feeds you!’

  Slowly the Moor turned towards him. He held up his bejewelled hand and commanded, ‘Look here!’ The procurator stared mesmerised as the Moor’s hand closed around his neck. ‘Here’s the hand that feeds me!’

  The struggling procurator could not break free, and as the Moor turned back to the Concordians, the gasping stopped abruptly with a wet, crumbling sound.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ said Leto as the guard dragged the procurator’s body away. ‘When you were receiving a stipend to attack the Oltremarines—’

  ‘—I was in her Majesty’s employ, yes. I like a diverse portfolio.’

  ‘And she sent you as a prisoner to Ariminum—’

  ‘—knowing the Ariminumese would free me. Even she didn’t think they’d be so rash as to promote me to admiral.’

  ‘And when we chased the Tancred, and that Rasenneisi bitch gave us the slip …’ Leto stood up suddenly.

  ‘Please, Spinther, be seated,’ the Moor said smoothly. ‘I was under orders.’

  ‘Queen Catrina must be terrified of the Ariminumese,’ said Torbidda lightly.

  ‘With good reason. For once the procurator spoke the truth: she’s not ready for an invasion. She’s been dealing with the Ebionite tribes and – how to put it? – family disputes for the last few years. How can we help each other?’

  ‘The Contessa of Rasenna’s child. I want it. Failing that, I want it dead.’

  Catching on, Leto said, ‘Remember, Azizi: we could clap you in irons, then sail over and take her.’

  The Moor gave Leto a dismissive look. ‘You need to concentrate on Etruria before starting another war. You asked for the child returned or killed, First Apprentice, and made no mention of the mother. This isn’t about Rasenna, is it?’

  ‘Queen Catrina should fear this child as much as I do,’ said Torbidda. ‘He threatens all princes.’

  ‘What matter if she loses her kingdom to him or you?’ The Moor smiled. ‘She has a foolish notion – the female mind defies all understanding, does it not? – that you don’t want this child to grow up … Cross her, and she’ll hide it away where you’ll never find it.’

  ‘Or?’

  ‘Or we can send the Contessa back on the next west-bound galley.’

  Torbidda didn’t attempt to bluff. ‘Your terms?’

  ‘Ariminum.’

  ‘Torbidda, don’t let this dog manipulate us too,’ Leto said. ‘If we attack Ariminum, it’ll chase them back into alliance with the rest of the south.’

  ‘You misunderstand, Spinther; I only ask that you stand aside. The arsenalotti are loyal to me and poised to take over every ward and bridge in Ariminum. All we want, First Apprentice, is that when the Consilium Sapientium petitions you for help—’

  ‘—that I say no. Done. I need that child.’

  Leto followed Torbidda to the Guild Hall. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking. Why’s the Scaligeri girl so important? I really thought that was just a ploy to break up the league – and it worked. Does it really matter what happens to her?’

  Torbidda bared his teeth in rage. ‘After all this time, you still understand nothing! I need that child, Leto!’ Moving impossibly fast, Torbidda grabbed Leto by the collar. ‘There’s nothing more important – not you, not this, not any of it!’

  Leto pulled himself free, breathing hard. ‘You’re going crazy, you know that? That damn preacher has addled your mind. I don’t know why you keep visiting him. Stay away from him – or better yet, cut his throat and be done with it.’

  ‘I may need him yet,’ Torbidda said, calming.

  When they reached the Drawing Hall, Torbidda unlocked the door – he had the only key – and turned to Leto, tears streaming down his face. ‘Don’t you get it?’ he cried. ‘I can’t solve it. I can’t!’

  Leto was mildly shocked to see Torbidda so emotional. ‘You can solve anything,’ he said firmly, gripping him by the shoulders. ‘You’re Cadet Sixty, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘Remember the day they made us into numbers?’ Torbidda said, gazing beyond Leto. ‘Agrippina told us to take nothing that would slow us down, and I did it, Leto! I discarded everything – conscience, morality, friendship. I think what’s slowing me down now is my soul.’

  He locked the door before Leto could respond.

  CHAPTER 82

  ‘If this tower is not sheltering outlaws, how do you explain the rumours?’

  After the night of black towers, every Rasenneisi finally understood the truth: that the bandieratori, for all the mayhem they caused, had kept citizens good neighbours. Before that night, it was understood that one who used his tongue to lie about his countrymen would have the offending organ cut out. Now there was no recourse when Geta’s men came knocking. If it took just a whisper to knock down an enemy’s tower, who would not whisper?

  The Mercanzia met secretly. They were stunned and frightened by the massacre they had authorised, and belatedly realised that in letting Geta destroy Rasenna’s fighting stock, they had surrendered the reins of power. Perhaps, they whispered, Geta didn’t realise how vulnerable they were now – he certainly wasn’t acting any different. Collectively, they agreed to maintain a strong front – but on hearing that Geta’s new wife was pregnant, each prior rushed separately to be the first to congratulate the royal couple: like shepherds, they paid homage; like kings, they bore gifts.

  And in the Palazzo del Popolo, they listened with new attentiveness to the podesta’s counsel. Peace with Concord – why not? It was better than the alternative.

  Deep below Rasenna’s cautious streets, the tunnels were alive. Uggeri was exhausted by his explorations by the time he returned to the base Pedro had set up, and the generator’s light hurt his eyes. ‘Madonna!’ he said, ‘I’ve travelled leagues. How deep does it go?’

  ‘I don’t know – but we can get to either side of the river,’ Pedro said.

  Uggeri swigged some water and said, ‘Okay. It’s important we know our territory. I’m going back. Don’t wait up.’

  ‘No,’ Pedro said firmly, ‘you haven’t eaten all day and you’re too important to let yourself get sick. Sit and eat.’

  Gruffly, Uggeri assented, concealing behind his grave demeanour the sheer joy he felt at having a foe worthy to test his mettle. Even with the stench of sulphur, the taste of burned dust and wool in his mouth, the boiling blood and sweat still raw, Uggeri rejoiced: in Geta he had found an adversary who would fight to the death.

  Pedro told Uggeri the plan as he ate.

  ‘Even if possible,’ Uggeri said incredulously, ‘what good would it do? When Concord’s legions arrive they can throw up a pontoon in a day—’

  ‘—that’s even more vulnerable. Don’t you remember how slow everything was before the bridge? If we separate north and south, we force Geta to pick which side he wants to protect. We can tie up resources, make travel difficult. We won’t win this with one blow in a single day. We’ll win it step by step, day by day.’

  ‘Or blow ourselves up.’

  ‘It’s worth the risk. Geta isn’t expecting it—’

  ‘—so he’ll overreact. I get it: the worse he acts, the more people will join us. But, Pedro, it’
s Giovanni’s bridge.’

  ‘It’s ours. It saved Rasenna once by bringing us together; we can save Rasenna now by destroying it. Don’t be sentimental.’ Pedro spoke boldly because it was necessary, but really, he shared Uggeri’s doubts. It felt like sacrilege.

  ‘You’re right,’ Uggeri said, ‘whatever’s necessary now, we can’t hesitate. But let’s make sure we blow up more than a bridge.’

  Just before dawn the baptistery bell rang out over the river. The clock tower delicately chimed its answer. Where the river ended and land begun was lost in the mist that had invaded Piazza Luna. Only the red banner of the Palazzo del Popolo interrupted the pervasive whiteness. Two grey guards stood at the entrance of the fortezza.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Tranquillo, kid,’ said the older, a veteran. ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘There, look!’

  Sure enough, a figure was crossing from the mouth of the bridge, tottering first left and then right, as if drunk.

  ‘Probably got up enough courage to give us a right old talking-to.’

  ‘This ought to be good.’ They waited, chuckling together in anticipation. The night-watch was dull, and one of its few diversions was slapping drunks sober. The drunk was closer now, and he suddenly straightened up and produced a flag-stick that had been concealed in the silhouette of his body. The banner unfurled and they had time only to register that it was black before he came running towards them. They fumbled for their weapons, but the gap closed too soon.

  The condottiere on the last watch of the night stretched himself and yawned, still groggy from last night’s drinking. Every night since the raid had been a celebration. He slid open the spy hole. ‘Mornin’ lads—’

  He slammed it shut and leaned against the door as he rebolted it, breathing fast, trying to master his panic. He rang the bell hanging beside the door. Condottieri were used to quick mobilisation, but the first to answer the call to arms was Geta. Others soon appeared, tucking their nightshirts into their trousers.

  ‘Mount up!’ Geta shouted, pushing the guard aside and unbolting the door. The sun was coming up, but he did not need it to see the Palazzo del Popolo across the piazza. Flames licked out of its windows and the clock tower glowed from the spiralling inferno within. Geta walked forwards a few steps, then spun around. The nightwatchmen still stood either side of the door. ‘Why are you two just standing—?’ he began, but stopped abruptly as he saw they wept blood. Then he noticed that their bodies dangled an inch above the ground, from ropes tied to the cressets above the door.