S Farrell - A Magic of Dawn

“Ah.” Allesandra placed steepled hands under her chin. “Though war is a matter of state, Archigos. Tell me, how many war-teni did you bring with you?”

The Archigos hissed like a turtle, too, Allesandra decided. “I hear that it was less than two hands,” Allesandra continued. “So few. .. However, Sergei has promised me that Nico Morel will give us the war-teni of Nesssantico, and that he will also send word to those who refused to follow you, and that they will come at his call.” She saw Sergei nod at that, as Varina glanced at the silver-nosed man strangely. “It seems, Archigos, that Nico Morel is able to provide the state far more war-teni than you can. So I don’t think your business at the Old Temple is quite so pressing. I’ve already pardoned the teni and war-teni who followed Morel, provided they go to the front. Those few who still refused…” She lifted an uncaring shoulder. “Well, I will permit you to do with them as you will.”

Archigos Karrol’s face had gone white, as if he were choking. “You will permit… You have no authority to do that, Kraljica. None at all. I am Archigos, and I-”

“And you, Archigos Karrol, don’t seem to realize just how fragile and precarious your position is. The majority of your teni followed Nico Morel rather than the unfortunate A’Teni ca’Paim, and your own war-teni did the same. Where is this power you seem to think you possess, Archigos? You couldn’t defeat Nico Morel, but I did-with the great help, I would remind you, of the Numetodo. It would seem that the Faith is no longer the only ally to which a Kralji can turn in time of need, nor the strongest. I suggest that if you wish to demonstrate how the Faith can help, you do so, Archigos. My faith in Cenzi is as strong as ever, but frankly I don’t think the defense of Nessantico would be any less strong if you shared the same cell as Morel.”

Karrol slammed his hands on the table, causing glasses to ring and china to clatter. “My Hirzg, will you let this… this… heretic speak to me this way?”

Allesandra saw Jan shrug from the side of her vision. “If the Kraljica can actually produce the war-teni for my army, Archigos, perhaps she has a point.” He turned to her. “Matarh, you haven’t changed a whit. You still somehow manage to have things your way.”

“I won’t stay here,” Archigos Karrol spat. “I don’t need to listen to this apostasy.”

“Then I will permit you to leave,” Allesandra told him. “But be cautious with what you say and what you do, Archigos. You will consult either my son or me before you take any significant action-either that, or you’ll find that you’ll be replaced by one of the a’teni who does realize that the Faith is the servant of the state rather than the reverse.”

“You have no authority to replace me,” the Archigos blustered. “The Concord A’Teni won’t stand for it. The need of the Faith supersedes that of any state.”

“If you would like to test that theory, Archigos, I invite you to try. Talbot, would you have the palais gardai escort Archigos Karrol to the Old Temple, so he may survey the damage there? Perhaps he’d like to supervise the work crews, since he can’t give us the war-teni we require.”

Karrol’s assistant came forward with his cane as the Archigos stood. He glared at Allesandra, who calmly gave him the sign of Cenzi in return. Karrol stalked from the room with what little dignity remained to him. Jan applauded ironically as the doors closed behind the man.

“Huzzah, Matarh,” he said. “That was well-played. I’ve been trying to find an excuse to get rid of that ineffective old bastardo for a year or more now, and here you’ve done it for me.”

“You can thank Sergei,” she told him. “He’s the one who will convince Nico Morel to cooperate.” She saw Varina glare at Sergei with that-as if she realized the meaning underneath the words. “And now-to our own business. Have you spoken with the nations of the Coalition? Are they all in accord?”

“I’ve not spoken to them all, though I’ve sent messages to them,” Jan told her. “Sesemora is the strongest of them outside Firenzcia, and therefore the most dangerous, but Brie is the first cousin of Pjathi ca’Brinka and the family connections will prevail. Miscoli will fall in with Sesemora. East Magyaria knows that Tennshah’s troops would be swarming over its borders without Firenzcia’s protection. West Magyaria…” Here he stopped and glanced-once-in Erik’s direction. “The Gyula is our man.”

Allesandra saw Erik grimace, then slip a smile like a mask back over his face. “Perhaps the fate of West Magyaria isn’t quite as settled as you believe, Hirzg Jan,” Erik said. “Perhaps the Kraljica has other plans.”

“Oh?” Jan asked. “Is this true, Matarh? Do rebels, traitors, and incompetents give commands in the Holdings? Are you planning to make the Hirzg of Firenzcia as irrelevant as you did the Archigos? That won’t work, I’m afraid-I hold the high cards in this game, unless you want Nessantico overrun by the Westlanders.” There was genuine anger in his voice now. She glanced at Erik once more. He nodded to her and smiled. She looked away.

“Even with Firenzcia, I’m afraid there’s still no guarantee that the Tehuantin won’t prevail,” she told Jan. “Their army is far larger than the one they brought before, Commandant ca’Talin has been unable to slow their advance, and what they did at Karnmor…” She shivered, involuntarily. “But in answer to your question, no” she said, more firmly. “I make my own decisions as to what is best for Nessantico-as you will, too, Jan. As we will together.”

She paused. You’re still certain you want to do this? Erik was grinning, confident, and the presumption there irked her. She already knew the answer-because she knew that, inevitably, with Erik and Jan it would come down to choosing between the two of them. She raised her glass to Jan. “If the current Gyula is satisfactory to you,” she told him, “then he will remain Gyula.”

“What!” Erik gave a shout of outrage, rising to his feet. Talbot rose at the same time, and the gardai at the door stiffened. “You promised me,” he shouted at Allesandra, his face gone red. His finger stabbed air. “I trusted you. You and I have shared your-”

“Silence!” Allesandra thundered in return. “If you say a word more, Vajiki, you’ll find yourself in the Bastida. That is my promise. You’re no longer welcome in my presence. You have this night to leave Nessantico. Go where you will, but if you’re here at First Call tomorrow, you will be declared a traitor to the Sun Throne and hunted down accordingly. If you’re caught, you’ll be sent to West Magyaria for trial by the Gyula’s court.”

“You can’t mean this.”

“Oh, but I do,” Allesandra told him.

“I meant nothing to you, then? The time we spent together-”

“-is done with,” she finished for him. “It’s one thing for a Kralji to make a mistake, Erik. It’s entirely another to continue to make it. Did you think I would exchange the good of the Holdings for simple affection? If you did, you never knew me at all.”

“I know you now,” Erik spat. “You’re a cold, cold bitch.”

It should have stung. It didn’t. She felt nothing at all. “Erik, you are wasting what little time you have.”

Erik glared. He fumed. But he clamped his mouth shut and stalked away from the table. The gardai opened the door for him. His bootsteps faded away down the long hall as the doors closed again.

“Matarh, you do amaze me,” Jan said. He looked around the table at Starkkapitan ca’Damont, at Sergei and Varina. “Which one of us leaves next?”

She ignored the sarcasm. “The Archigos needed to realize his place,” Allesandra told him. “We don’t need the distraction of having to placate the Concenzia Faith in this crisis. And as for Erik…” She shrugged. “I’m afraid I made a poor decision, and it was time to rectify it.”