S Farrell - A Magic of Dawn

To Archigos Karrol, Kraljica Allesandra, and Hirzg Jan-Cenzi will wait no longer for the Faith to come to its senses and return to His teachings. He has demanded that I be His Voice and His Hand, and I am but His humble and obedient servant. Up until this moment, I had obeyed the unfair and misguided restrictions that the Archigos and the Faith placed upon me. I had not used the Ilmodo, I had not worn the robes I had earned, I had not represented myself as a teni or even as a member of the Concenzia Faith. But Cenzi has ordered me to throw off the chains you would place around me and serve Him as He wishes.

I have obeyed.

Know that A’Teni ca’Paim’s death was her own fault for having attempted to defy Cenzi’s will; neither I nor any of my people intended her death. It was Cenzi who called her back to His arms. Commandant cu’Ingres has been injured, but my people are caring for him and we will do no further harm to him, nor to any of the other prisoners in our charge. If some of these captives die of the injuries they’ve already sustained, we will return the bodies so that their families can grieve and bury them; those who are healthy and those we are still caring for will, unfortunately, need to remain here for the time being, as I’m sure you can understand.

All of you must be curious as to what I hope to gain by this. I personally hope to gain nothing; I leave it to Cenzi to tell me what He wants of me. What He has said is this:

1) Those who have participated in today’s acts will not be prosecuted or punished for their actions, which were necessary because the Faith turned blind eyes and deaf ears to the pleas of those who saw the Faith falling away from the true teachings of the Toustour and the Divolonte. We weep for the death and injury that has been caused, and we wish it did not have to be so. But when those in authority no longer obey the tenets they have pledged to uphold, they must be cast down. If that requires violence, then Cenzi will bless those who do His bidding.

2) The seat of the Faith must return to Nessantico where it properly belongs.

3) Archigos Karrol must step down; a Concord A’Teni will convene immediately to elect a new Archigos for the Faith.

4) No heretical views will be tolerated within the Holdings nor the Coalition. Those preaching such views will meet the justice of the Faith. All secular cooperation with groups such as the Numetodo will immediately cease. Those heretics who recant their ways and accept Cenzi will be forgiven; those who do not will quickly meet Him.

5) The Concenzia Faith does not concern itself with secular affairs except where such conflict with the tenets of the Faith. Thus, the Faith does not care that Kraljica Allesandra remains on the Sun Throne or that Hirzg Jan bears the crown of Firenzcia. However, both Kraljica Allesandra and Hirzg Jan must acknowledge the supremacy of the Faith in all matters that impinge on the Toustour and the Divolonte, or the Faith will cease to cooperate with them. No teni will be allowed to assist them in any way: the war-teni will not fight with their armies; the light-teni will not illuminate their streets; the utilino will not patrol with the Garde Kralji nor the Garde Brezno; the lower teni will not toil in the industries of the state.

These five demands are not open to negotiation. They reflect Cenzi’s Divine Will and will not-can not-be abrogated. If any of these demands are not met, then the wrath of Cenzi will fall upon you as it has A’Teni ca’Paim.

We await your replies.

The document was signed with a bold flourish: Nico Morel.

Allesandra folded the paper again, staring at it in her hand, resisting the temptation to crumple the document and toss it into the fire in the hearth. “Well, the young man is certainly arrogant enough,” she commented. Ci’Santiago said nothing. “I’ll have Talbot make a copy of this for Hirzg Jan and Archigos Karrol and send it by fast-rider to them. They might be amused. They’ll undoubtedly be terrifically entertained by the fact that Morel could take over the Old Temple and we seem to be unable to root him out.”

“I’m sorry, Kraljica,” ci’Santiago said. “I’ll consult with the other offiziers and perhaps some plan can be devised…”

She waved him silent.

“No. Let Morel have the Old Temple. All I ask is that you keep him there. Right now, there are more important matters: let’s see what happens with Commandant ca’Talin at Villembouchure. When we know how he’s fared, we can decide what must be done with Morel. Just keep him there, snared in a hole of his own making. Can you do that much, A’Offizier?”

Ci’Santiago flushed and nodded quickly. “Is there an answer I should send to Morel?” he asked.

“I think that the lack of an answer will be all the answer he needs,” she said. “That is all I require of you for the moment, A’Offizier. Please send in Talbot on your way out…”

Ci’Santiago saluted her and spun on the balls of his feet. She watched him leave, glancing at the portrait of Marguerite as he closed the door. “I’m sorry,” she told the stern face in the painting. “I’m sorry I ever thought it would be easy to be on the Sun Throne. Every day, I appreciate what you accomplished all the more.”

Kraljiki Audric might have thought that the painting of his great-matarh could speak and respond, but it did nothing for Allesandra. Kraljica Marguerite only stared at her, frowning and eternally stern.

“If you don’t act, the people will start to think you weak.” The voice came from the direction of her bedroom. The door had opened and she saw Erik there, dressed in one of the robes she’d had Talbot bring up for him.

“I know,” she told him. She tried to keep the sudden annoyance she felt out of her voice: at the tone of his voice, at the nonchalant and confident way he leaned against the doorway. Something about his demeanor gigged her; she told herself that it was because of the news, because of ci’Santiago’s uselessness and cu’Ingres’ incompetence and ca’Paim’s death. “And I will act,” she finished.

“Let me talk to this ci’Santiago,” Erik continued. He pushed off from the wall, coming toward her with his arms opened. She allowed his embrace but did not return it. His voice was a low growl in her ear, his Magyarian accent more pronounced than usual. “Or give me command of the Garde Kralji in his place. I have experience commanding an army, my love. I can tell them how to take down this Morel. Let me help you, Allesandra, as you have helped me.”

I have seen your vatarh command his army, and I have watched him go down to defeat… She did not say that. Instead, she allowed herself to relax in his arms. “Talk to him if you’d like,” she told him. “Tell him that I’ve asked you to consult for me. But do nothing without telling me first.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I will do that. Immediately.” He kissed her again and released her, striding quickly toward the bedroom. He paused there a moment, looking back at her. “We make good allies, you and I,” he said. “Perhaps even of the more permanent variety, eh? We don’t need the damned Firenzcians.”

It did not seem to occur to him that she herself was Firenzcian. He left the room. She could hear him dressing, humming some Magyarian folk tune.

He was right, she knew. She had to act, and forcefully. But the prospect did not please her.

Nor, at the moment, she was afraid, did Erik.

The encampment was loud, dirty, and malodorous. It stank of horses, mud, men, and fires; it boomed with orders, curses, laughter, and a seemingly eternal hammering of smithies. The tents of the Firenzcian army covered a rolling field not far from the Nessantican border town of Ville Colhelm. The field might once have been lush and beautiful, dappled with grass and wildflowers. Now it was a muddy, torn mess rutted with makeshift lanes between the canvas ramparts of a portable city. It was impossible to stay clean here. Just walking to the kitchen tents caked Rochelle’s legs halfway to the knee. A midden had been set up downwind of the encampment, but on still days, one could catch the odor of rot and filth.