S. Farrell - A Magic of Twilight

“Cu’Kohnle is Firenzcian, unlike ca’Cellibrecca,” Markell said. “His loyalty is to you more than A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca.”

“Maybe,” Jan grunted. “But when the A’Teni is Archigos Orlandi, that may change. The new Kraljiki will also insist that I stay married to that pious cow Greta. No doubt the news has reached Brezno by

now; I’ll wager she’s on her knees praying to Cenzi in gratitude for her deliverance. I wonder if she and ca’Cellibrecca weren’t plotting this all along.”

Jan paced the small perimeter of the tent and sat again. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the encampment: low talk, a burst of laughter, the clatter and bustle as food was prepared. Markell waited patiently, warming his hands over the coals where ca’Cellibrecca’s paper was now ash.

“Vatarh?” It was Allesandra, standing at the tent flap. She let it drop behind her. “Vatarh, you told me that a good general must know which battles he can win and which he cannot. Is this one you can win?”

He stared at her, shaking his head. “You were listening?”

“You told me to go outside and find Georgi. I looked and I didn’t see him. You didn’t tell me not to listen.”

Markell raised his eyebrows. Jan sighed. “So you’ve listened and you know. In that case, what do you think?”

“In all the stories you’ve ever told me, and in all the ones Georgi knows, the Hirzg never gives up. I think A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca doesn’t know those stories, or he didn’t listen to them very well.”

Jan laughed, and Markell joined in. “The wisdom of a child,” Jan said.

He nodded, and applauded softly. “This has been a battle without armies,”

he told her, “as it has been since we started this course. But we have an army with us. If we turn back now, we lose the advantage of the field.”

“My Hirzg?” Markell asked.

“Justi has the title. That’s all. He has nothing else yet. And

ca’Cellibrecca isn’t yet the Archigos. We’re only two days from the border and a fortnight to the gates of Nessantico itself. Ca’Cellibrecca advises us to wait-but he has the interests of Orlandi ca’Cellibrecca in mind, not the Hirzg of Firenzcia. As my daughter has just said, he doesn’t know the stories of Firenzcia.”

Jan saw the ghost of a smile press against Markell’s thin lips. “Should I inform the Starkkapitan that we will continue our advance in the morning?”

“Tell him that I intend to pay a personal visit to the new Kraljiki,” Jan told him. “And send U’Teni cu’Kohnle in; I need to know where his loyalties truly lie.”

“As you wish, my Hirzg,” Markell answered with a quick bow. He opened the flaps of the tent, and Jan heard him speak quickly to one of the gardai, and then the rattle of armor as the man strode quickly away.

“A good general doesn’t hedge,” Jan said to Allesandra. “And he doesn’t hesitate because the winds have changed. He uses them, instead.”

Ana cu’Seranta

“Let me take your cloak, O’Teni Ana. They say the weather will change soon.”

“Where’s Vatarh?” Ana asked Sala. The maidservant shook her head.

“He’s not here, O’Teni Ana,” she answered. “He’s away in Prajnoli on business. He’s away almost all the time, ever since. .” She hesitated, and Ana saw a blush creep from her neck to her cheeks.

“I understand,” she told the girl. “Don’t worry about it, Sala. Matarh?”

“She’s expecting you, in the sun room. I’ll announce that you’re here.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll go on back and surprise her.”

The house no longer seemed familiar to her at all-it had changed even more since she’d last been here. The smell of fresh plaster and paint hung in the foyer, an odor like guilt. The hallway beyond the front door was now a pale blue instead of the yellow she remembered, and when she reached the archway into the sun room, it was no longer draped with black as it had been when her matarh was sick but was now filled with flowers and plants, and there was a young male servant she didn’t know there with Tari. And the woman, standing with her back to Ana and tending to a pot of blue-and-white-petaled skyblooms. .

Ana felt her breath catch. After the argument they’d had the last time they met, Ana had been surprised when her matarh had sent Ana a request to visit. Please, Cenzi, don’t let her still hate me. .

“O’Teni Ana!” Tari exclaimed, seeing her, and the woman turned from the skyblooms.

“Ana. I’m glad you came.” Matarh smiled gently, and Ana felt the tension within her dissolve with the greeting. Abini set down the small trowel and spread her arms. Ana went to her, letting herself fall into the embrace, her matarh’s arms snug around her. Ana found herself crying, all unbidden; her matarh continued to hold her tightly. “Hush, child. Hush. .”

Ana sniffed and wiped at the betraying tears, pulling away slightly.

Tari and the young man were pointedly looking away from them. “You’ve engaged some new help,” she said.

“That’s Jacques, who works around the house and on the grounds, and we have a new cook as well, who makes the most wonderful soups.

They were both recommended to me by Vajica cu’Meredi-do you remember her? She’s used to call on us before. .” For a moment the old pain crossed her matarh’s face. “. . when your brothers were still alive and before I became sick. She’s made several calls to our house since you received your Marque. All this. .” Her matarh pressed her lips together, fine wrinkles gathering. “All this is because of you, Ana.

Everyone knows how the Archigos chose you personally, and that you tended to the poor Kraljica. .” She stopped then. “Tari, why don’t you have Cook make Ana something? Jacques, if you’d tend to the bushes in the rear garden. .”

They ducked their heads and left. Abini continued to hold Ana.

“You look so sad,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

Ana could only nod. She didn’t trust her voice.

“Is it the Kraljica? Her death was a shock to us all, and now there’s that horrible news come from Firenzcia about poor U’Teni Estraven ca’Cellibrecca being murdered; I used to enjoy his Admonitions. I hope they kill every last Numetodo in the city for what they did.”

The image of Karl, bound and silenced in the tower of the Bastida, came to her. So did the memory of seeing him, of his brief single kiss. .

“Matarh,” Ana interrupted. “Stop. Please.”

Abini’s eyes widened, and Ana kissed her cheek to soften the impact of the words. “I should have come to see you sooner, Matarh,” she said. “I wanted to. But. .” I couldn’t, because I was afraid he would be here. I couldn’t because of what we said to each other the last time. .

There was pain in her matarh’s eyes. “Ana, I thought about what you told me, and for a long time I was angry.”

“Angry with me, Matarh?”

Abini was shaking her head. She’d let go of Ana’s arms and returned her attention to the skyblooms. Her fingers fluffed the petals idly. “Tomas told me about what happened the time you came here,

when. .” She stopped, sighing. “Tomas told me that he said something to you that made you angry, and there was an accident. He said the Ilmodo is so strong in you, which is why the Archigos chose you, and that you couldn’t control it.”

“No, Matarh. That’s not why. Vatarh-”

“Hush, Daughter!” Abini said sharply, turning back to her. Her eyes were wide again. Her fingers touched Ana’s mouth, trembling. “Don’t say anything, Ana. Please. Tomas. . he could have left me after I became sick, but he didn’t. No matter what you think of him, no matter what. .” She paused, her lips pressing together before she began again.