S. Farrell - A Magic of Twilight

“Allesandra,” Jan said softly, “war might seem like a game, but a starkkapitan or a Hirzg must realize that the pieces aren’t lead and paint; they’re flesh and blood, and once they fall, you can’t pick them up again and put them back. Look around you; this is the reality of war, and you need to understand it if you are to be the Hirzgin. Georgi was teaching you how to move the pieces; now he teaches you what it means to be one of those pieces.”

Allesandra glanced back up at him and though her cheeks were stained with the tracks of moisture, her eyes were dry. “Tell me that we’ll go to Nessantico now, Vatarh,” she said, her voice tinged more with anger than sorrow. “Tell me that.”

He crouched down and cradled her in his arms, and her anger returned again to tears. She sobbed against his chest, hard and inconsolable. He stroked her hair and pressed her against him.

“We will go to Nessantico, Allesandra,” he told her. “I promise you that. You will walk its streets soon enough.”

“Another week, perhaps a bit more, and this will be Nessantico’s fate.

Cenzi has indeed blessed us,” ca’Cellibrecca said, his voice as raucous as one of the carrion crows. “What a wonderful victory, my Hirzg!”

Jan turned from a broken window set high in a domed tower of the temple. He’d given Allesandra into Markell’s care before going to find the Archigos. Ca’Cellibrecca was beaming at him, his corpulent face alight above the ornate robe of the Archigos. Jan scowled back.

“You’re a fool, ca’Cellibrecca,” he snarled. He pointed to the shattered window. Shards of colored glass were snared in the leaden frame, and the sill was blackened with smoke. “Is that victory you see out there?”

he railed at the man, who cowered back in the doorframe as if searching for a retreat. “Will you tell me that Kraljiki Justi is among our prisoners?

Was it the Kraljiki or even Commandant ca’Rudka who surrendered the city to us, or only some unimportant local offizier? Did you fail to notice how many men we lost here, or how many days we’ve wasted while Nessantico readied its defenses?” Jan spat out from the window, watching the gob of spittle arc in the air to fall on shattered roof tiles far below. He turned back to ca’Cellibrecca. “The Kraljiki played us here, ca’Cellibrecca, better than his matarh could have. He offered parley to gain days, then he fled and left his commandant here to hold us. Then the chevarritai fled themselves before they could be captured.”

“I realize that,” ca’Cellibrecca said. “Starkkapitan ca’Linnett should have ordered his men to pursue. I told the man so, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Ca’Cellibrecca shook his head. “Now we’ll have to contend with them at Nessantico. I’ve been thinking about this, my Hirzg. If we take our troops, and divide them so that we come in from the north and west as well as the east. .”

Jan interrupted the man with a snarl. “Come here a moment, Archigos-I need to show you something.”

Ca’Cellibrecca walked across the room toward him; Jan stepped aside to let him stand before the window, his nose wrinkling at the smell of incense clinging to the man’s robes. “What is it you want me to see?”

ca’Cellibrecca asked, and Jan caught the man’s green robes in his fists and pushed him forward hard. Ca’Cellibrecca squalled in fright but his hands flailed only at cold air. Jan could see shards of glass digging into the rolls of the man’s waist. Overbalanced, ca’Cellibrecca was heavier than Jan had expected; he had to brace himself to keep from losing his grip entirely.

“Can you fly, Archigos?” Jan asked as the man shouted in alarm.

“Can Cenzi give you wings like a bird?”

“My Hirzg. . Pull me back up!”

“Shut up,” Jan told him. “You look more like a cow than a bird to me, Archigos. That’s what you are, Archigos: a cow. As long as you give me the milk of Cenzi, I will keep you. If you can’t be my cow, then I have U’Teni cu’Kohnle to serve as such. Frankly, I don’t really care which one of you it is as long as you give me what I want from you. I don’t need you to be a bird and tell me about bird matters unless you can demonstrate to me how well you fly. I already have a starkkapitan, but maybe you think you’re a better strategist, eh? We can find out now.

So tell me, Archigos, because my arms are tired and I can’t hold you for much longer: are you a cow, or are you a bird?”

He shook the man and heard the sound of cloth ripping. Ca’Cellibrecca screamed. “I’m a cow! A cow!” Jan could see his arms flailing. People were looking up from the ground and pointing to the Archigos.

“Louder,” he called to the Archigos, shaking him again. “I can’t hear you. They can’t hear you.”

“I’m a cow!” the man screamed. He could hear the bellowing reverberate in the streets below. “I am a cow, my Hirzg!”

“Moo for me then, Cow,” Jan said. “Let us hear you moo.”

Ca’Cellibrecca gulped. He mooed, a plaintive wail sounding over and over again, as if he were one of the wind-horns of the temple. Jan could hear laughter in the streets below.

“That will do,” Jan said, and pulled the man back up. The Archigos’

hair was disheveled and blood stained his robes where the glass had sliced through the cloth into the flesh underneath. “I would advise you to attend to your cow matters, Archigos. We will be leaving Passe a’Fiume in the morning.”

Mahri

The leather pouch on his belt felt heavy against Mahri’s thigh, a glass ball the size of a child’s fist nestled within it. Placing the X’in Ka inside the ball had cost him an entire night’s sleep, but doubts still plagued him.

The signs aren’t clear enough. They never are when they concern her. .

The wind-horns on the Temple of Cenzi sounded, echoed by the horns on all the temples as well as the bells of the Kraljiki’s Palais.

With the clamor, the new Archigos appeared in the traditional middle tower window to wave to the throngs of the faithful. . though the throngs were far fewer than those which usually greeted a new Archigos. Nessantico’s population had been decimated: most men were away with the army swelling beyond the eastern gates, and many citizens had decided that visiting relatives in towns to the west would be an excellent idea. The temple square was full and cheers rose toward the new Archigos, but the crowd didn’t overflow out into the Avi

a’Parete, the cheers were less than deafening and more rehearsed than authentic. The heralds had already announced that, due to the current crisis, Archigos Ana the First would forgo the traditional procession around the city; after a few minutes and a blessing called out over the onlookers in a thin, nervous voice, the crowd dispersed quickly except for the ca’-and-cu’ who filed into the Archigos’ Temple to witness Ana’s initial service.

As the citizenry walked away toward home and businesses, the air was alive with gossip, and Mahri caught snatches of it as they passed him.

“. . told me that she’s already agreed to marry the Kraljiki. She might as well be one of the grandes horizontals . .”

“. . seems that when the Kraljiki’s wishes aren’t followed he’ll just create his own Concenzcia. .”

“. . that the Numetodo will be welcome in the city. From what I hear, ci’Vliomani’s title of envoy has been restored. .”

Mahri smiled grimly. He touched the glass ball once more and wrapped his cloak around him. Sheltered against one of the buildings across the square, he invoked a quick spell, and the air shimmered around him as if he were enclosed in water. He walked across the courtyard and into the temple, knowing that casual eyes would only see a heat-shimmer if they glanced at him. Inside the temple, he found a dark niche to one side of the nave. There, he settled in to watch as Ana and a retinue of a’ and u’teni went through the rituals of the High Worship.