A Magic of Nightfall (72 page)

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Authors: S. L. Farrell

BOOK: A Magic of Nightfall
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Her hands came down. Kenne heard her breath slow. She waved the gardai away. “That smell . . .” she muttered. “I remember that most of all.” She turned slowly to the Archigos. “This is
not
magic?” she said. “How can that not be the Ilmodo, Archigos?”
“Because it is only alchemy,” Kenne told her, “a combination of ingredients that reacts violently when it comes into contact with fire. There were traces of this black sand in the wood of the High Lectern after Archigos Ana was killed; the same traces were in the Sun Throne and on the body of Kraljiki Audric.”
“The Numetodo claim that faith in Cénzi isn’t required to use magic, that
anyone
can do it, that it’s no more complicated than being a baker. They look at rocks shaped like shells and skulls and concoct strange theories, they conduct experiments—in alchemy as in other ‘sciences’ as well as magic. That seems to me to
indict
the Numetodo.” That was Odil ca’Mazzack. He glared at the Archigos, and the Kraljica nodded at his words.
“I’m telling you that this is not from the Numetodo,” Kenne persisted.
“Even when Vliomani just happens to be the one who has shown you this,” Odil retorted scornfully. “Seems a strange leap of logic.”
“The black sand is a
Westlander
concoction,” Kenne told them. “Here’s the logic, Councillor. Enéas cu’Kinnear had just returned from the service in the Hellins. You’ll also remember that Commandant cu’Ulcai has just told us how the Westlanders were able to tear down the walls of Villembouchure with explosions similar to those that killed Archigos Ana and Kraljiki Audric.”
“And he said the explosions were the
magic
of the Westlander war-téni, these ‘nahualli.’ ” Odil shook his graying head. The extra skin around his throat wobbled with the motion. “I think the Archigos is mis—”
“No!”
This time Kenne nearly shouted the word, stamping a foot on the ground at the same time. “I am
not
mistaken. I know you all think of me as a doddering old fool who’s a poor pale shadow of what an Archigos should be. There you might be right, but you are
wrong
in this. Worse than wrong—I have
evidence
that makes me believe that the false Archigos Semini was involved in the assassination of Archigos Ana. And if that is the case . . .” He stopped, out of breath. They were staring at him, all of them, as if they might at a child who was throwing a tantrum. “We
need
the Numetodo, Kraljica, Councillors,” he continued, lowering his voice. “We need their skills, their magic, and we need their knowledge. Nessantico is about to be under siege from both west and east, and we can’t afford to lose those who can help us.”
There was a long, painful silence. Odil licked his lips and sat. The other Council members lowered their heads, glancing at each other. Kraljica Sigourney stared outward to the dark stain on the tiles. “We will consider what you have said, Archigos,” she said finally, and he knew what that meant.
He grunted, lifting himself from his seat again. He took the staff of the Archigos in his right hand—the cracked globe wrapped in the naked, writhing bodies of the Moitidi—and gave the Kraljica the sign of Cénzi with the left. Again, he shuffled his way from the dais. As he passed the spot where the black sand had exploded, he stopped. The tiles there had broken. He picked up one of the larger pieces: the soft blue glaze razor sharp along one edge, the smooth surface stained with what looked to be soot. The smell of the black sand was strong. Kenne hefted the chunk of tile and let it fall, and the sound was that of a dish breaking. He watched bits of the tile bounce and scatter.
“All of Nessantico could look like this,” he told them. “All of it.”
There was no answer. He tapped the end of the Archigos’ staff on the tile and shuffled on.
Sergei ca’Rudka
T
HE PARLEY TENT WAS ARRAYED in the field between the two forces: just off the Avi a’Firenzcia and about halfway between Passe a’Fiume and Nessantico. As they approached, Sergei could already see the shadowed forms of Odil ca’Mazzack and Aubri cu’Ulcai under the white fabric, along with U’Téni Petros cu’Magnaoi, there as the Archigos’ representative. The Firenzcian delegation was Sergei, A’Hirzg Allesandra, and Starkkapitän ca’Damont, accompanied by the required array of chevarittai and attendants. Since neither the Kraljica nor Archigos Kenne were present, the Hïrzg and Archigos Semini, at Sergei’s suggestion, remained behind. Neither one of them had been pleased with the arrangement.
“Matarh, I should be there,” Jan had insisted. “I am the Hïrzg and whatever happens there should be,
must
be my decision.” He had glared at Sergei, at his matarh.
“So it will be, Hïrzg,” Sergei told the young man. “I promise you that. But for you to be there . . .” He shook his head. “You are the Hïrzg, as you said. There is no peer in that tent for you; there is no peer in the tent for the Archigos either. You, Hïrzg Jan, can’t be expected to parley on equal terms with Odil ca’Mazzak, who is just a member of the Council of Ca’—you would be lowering yourself to do so. I can tell you that it’s exactly what they
want
you to do. It would be an admission that the Hïrzg of the Coalition is someone who is lesser than the Kraljica of the Holdings.”
He had looked to Allesandra and the glowering Archigos then. “You asked me to give you my knowledge, to help you. That is what I’m doing here. Appearances matter. They matter a great deal. They especially matter to those in the Kraljica’s Palais.”
In the end, with Allesandra’s support, he had won the argument. Jan, at least, had been somewhat gracious about it. The Archigos had stalked off angrily, and they had heard him complaining throughout the encampment for the next few turns of the glass.
As the Firenzcian contingent dismounted and servants took their weapons and horses and offered refreshments, the Nessanticans came forward. Sergei clasped cu’Ulcai’s arm warmly, smiling at his longtime offizier. “Aubri,” he said, “I wish we could have met again under better circumstances. I heard what happened with poor Aris . . .” He clasped the man on the shoulder and gave the sign of Cénzi to U’Téni cu’Magnaoi. “Petros, it’s good to see you also. How is Archigos Kenne?”
“He is well, sir, and sends his blessing to you,” the older man answered.
Sergei leaned close to the man as he hugged him. “Has Kenne received my messages?” he whispered into the older man’s ear. “Does he agree?” Sergei felt Petros’ faint nod. He also saw the appraising glances of both the delegations on him as he greeted the two men: Allesandra as well as Odil ca’Mazzak. They were both suspicious; they both had a right to be. Sergei nodded to ca’Mazzak and took his seat to the left of Allesandra.
Ca’Mazzak gestured, and pages came forward to give Allesandra, Sergei, and the starkkapitän scrolls of heavy parchment. “This is the offer of Kraljica Sigourney,” ca’Mazzak said as they scanned the words there. “Your army will be permitted to return to Firenzcia. The outlaw Sergei Rudka will be handed over to us. Reparations will be paid by Brezno to the Holdings for the destruction of crops and livestock by their army, and for the violation of the Treaty of Passe a’Fiume. If you find the terms acceptable, all that is required is the signature of the A’Hïrzg as the representative of the Coalition.”
It was no more than Sergei had expected. He’d witnessed Holdings arrogance and hubris too many times before.
Starkkapitän ca’Damont gave a snicker through his nose, tossing the parchment on the table. “And how does the Kraljica intend to
enforce
this, Councillor?” he asked. “With the few battalions you’ve given Commandant cu’Ulcai? I’ve nothing but respect for the commandant, who is a fine offizier, but one doesn’t fight off an angry bear by threatening him with a twig.” He seemed to realize then that he’d spoken out of turn. His face reddened slightly. “My pardons, A’Hïrzg. I’m a simple offizier, but these
demands . . .
” He swept the parchment from the table to the floor; a page scurried over to pick up the scroll but didn’t return it to him.
“The Garde Civile and the chevarittai of the Holdings are not a
twig,
Starkkapitän,” ca’Mazzak blustered. He had puffed up like a toad, sitting erect in his chair, the wattles on his thick neck shivering. “You underestimate our ability to quickly field an army when our lands are threatened. It’s a lesson the last Hïrzg Jan learned; I’m surprised that anyone from Firenzcia feels the lesson needs to be taught a second time.”
Allesandra appeared to be still reading the proposal, though Sergei could see her listening carefully to the exchange. She set the paper down in front of her and folded her hands over it. “All right,” she said. “Let’s forgo the posturing, Councillor ca’Mazzak. We all know that Nessantico is dealing with a threat to the west. We know what happened to Karnor; we’re hearing rumors that Villembouchure may have suffered the same fate—perhaps Commandant cu’Ulcai could enlighten us on that, since I expect he was there when the Holdings forces were routed? Everyone at this table knows that you haven’t sufficient forces to challenge us here. So what is it that the Kraljica
really
offers?”
Sergei had suggested this direct tack to Allesandra, but the stab at Aubri cu’Ulcai had been the A’Hïrzg’s own contribution. The look on Aubri’s’ face was enough to confirm that her guess had been correct, and Sergei felt an upwelling of sympathy for his friend.
Ca’Mazzak looked as if he’d swallowed unripened fruit. He glanced at Petros, who seemed to be examining the fields past the edge of the tent, then at Aubri. “The Kraljica is prepared to offer a compromise,” he said finally. “Let the Hïrzg and A’Hïrzg return to Brezno with their Garde Brezno. However, Starkkapitän ca’Damont and the remainder of the army will remain behind to aid in the defense of Nessantico against the Westlanders, for which the treasury of Nessantico is willing to bear the expenses. As for the former Regent . . .” Ca’Mazzak glared at Sergei. “Kraljica Sigourney still demands his return to face the charges against him, no matter what agreement we reach here.”
Allesandra stood at that; a moment later, Sergei, ca’Damont, and the rest of the Firenzcian contingent followed. “Then we’re done here,” Allesandra said. “Regent ca’Rudka is an adviser to the crown of Firenzcia, and we consider him to be the current rightful ruler of Nessantico until a legitimate Kralji is named. If Regent ca’Rudka wishes to return to Nessantico on his own to pursue his claims, he may do so. Otherwise, he is under the protection of the Hïrzg, no matter what the person you have named Kraljica wishes.” She bowed to ca’Mazzak and gestured. Sergei smiled broadly at the man. They turned to go.
“Wait!” It was Petros who called to them. Allesandra stopped.
“U’Téni?” she asked, but ca’Mazzak was already spluttering.
“
I
am in charge of this delegation,” he said to Petros. “You will speak when I give you permission, U’Téni cu’Magnaoi.”
“Cénzi is in charge of my conscience,” Petros told the councillor. “Not you, nor Kraljica Sigourney. And I
will
speak. A’Hïrzg, Nessantico is in desperate circumstances. Commandant cu’Ulcai would tell you—if he were permitted to speak—how easily the Westlanders took the cities, towns, and villages they have ravaged. Nessantico desperately requires all the allies it can muster now. Archigos Kenne is prepared to negotiate separately from the Kraljica, if he must, to achieve this.”
“What!”
ca’Mazzak sputtered. He was on his feet now as well, pounding on the table. “No, no, no. We are done here. U’Téni cu’Magnaoi, you will be transported back to the city to answer for this. Commandant cu’Ulcai, order your gardai to—”
Sergei slapped the table immediately in front of ca’Mazzak, and the man’s mouth shut with an audible snap. “You’re nothing but the Kraljica’s yelping lapdog, Councillor,” Sergei told the man, leaning close to him. “Sit down.”
Ca’Mazzak glared back and turned to Aubri. “Commandant, you have your orders. You will take the u’téni into custody immediately.”
Aubri didn’t move, didn’t respond. Sergei could feel the tension rising in the tent. He saw hands sliding carefully toward hidden weapons—he had his own blades, too, one in his boot, another under the blouse of his bashta, and his ears sang with the hum of his own fear. He hadn’t been able to contact Aubri beforehand, and if Aubri decided that his loyalty to the Sun Throne was more than his old loyalty for Sergei, then . . . Well, then Sergei didn’t know what might happen here.
“Commandant cu’Ulcai, this is treason,” ca’Mazack growled. “I will have your head for this if you don’t do as ordered.”
Aubri said nothing; his contemplative gaze still on Sergei. The chevarittai, of both sides, tensed, ready to move. Sergei placed himself between Allesandra and the table. “I suggest you sit down, Councillor,” Sergei told ca’Mazzak. “Let U’Téni cu’Magnaoi finish outlining his offer.”
For several breaths, ca’Mazzak didn’t stir. His gaze moved slowly around the tent, and Sergei knew he was assessing who in the tent would follow him and who would not. Evidently, he wasn’t pleased with the result. Slowly, ca’Mazzak lowered himself to his chair again. He stared at his hands.
“Good,” Sergei said. For a moment, the ringing in his ears diminished. “Petros, what has Archigos Kenne to offer Firenzcia?”
“Information,” Petros answered. “We have proof that Archigos Semini was involved in the assassination of Archigos Ana. We can give you names to verify that.” Behind him, Sergei heard Allesandra suck in her breath at the accusation. He wondered at that—she sounded more alarmed than surprised. “Because Kraljiki Audric was killed in the same manner,” Petros continued, “we have to suspect that the false Archigos was also involved in that. If Hïrzg Jan is prepared to try Archigos Semini for Archigos Ana’s death before his own court, we will supply him the evidence we have. In return, the Faith of Nessantico will work with the Faith of Brezno to repair our rift; Archigos Kenne will call for a Concordance of all a’téni to elect a single Archigos to rule the Faith, and he will also step down voluntarily if he is not elected—though any Archigos must take the Archigos’ Temple in Nessantico, not Brezno. Likewise, the Faith is prepared to acknowledge Allesandra ca’Vörl’s claim to the Sun Throne. Archigos Kenne will support her before the Council of Ca’ against Kraljica Sigourney.”

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