Ca’Rudka went to the table. One of the several attendants hovering around the edges of the room poured the commandant’s tea, stirring a bit of honey into the fragrant brew. He took one of the pastries and bit into it, seeming to savor the taste with closed eyes before taking a sip of the tea. “Something for you, Envoy? The pastry chef the Kraljica retains is truly excellent. You really must have one of the tarts. Here. .”
He pointed to the tarts, and another attendant quickly placed one on a plate.
Ca’Rudka passed Karl the small plate with the inlaid Kraljica’s crest obscured by the pastry. “We’ll eat on the patio,” ca’Rudka told the servants. “Bring the envoy his tea, give us an assortment of the pastries, and leave us.”
As the servants scurried about the table, ca’Rudka escorted Karl from the room out to a raised stone patio that emptied into the palace’s formal gardens. Several workers moved through the grounds, trimming the bushes and pruning the flowers. “Take a seat, please, Envoy,”
ca’Rudka said, gesturing to two chairs facing the garden with a small, cloisonne-topped table placed between them. Karl sat; the commandant took the other chair; the servants came in with tea and pastries, and vanished again. “I enjoy watching the gardens this time of day,” ca’Rudka said.
“They’re quite beautiful, I would agree, Commandant.”
“Indeed. But what I enjoy seeing are the gardeners at their work.
You see, Envoy, all the order and loveliness you see there in front of you has a cost. Did you know that the Kraljica employs over a hundred workers for the palais grounds alone, just here on the Isle? If you take into account all the rest of the property she owns, her chateaux and houses throughout the Holdings, then there are a thousand and more.
They maintain the beauty you and I see, and to do that, they must ruthlessly rid the garden of anything that is rotting or diseased, or that threatens the setting.”
Karl allowed himself a small smile, glancing at the commandant, who was looking not at the garden but at Karl. The commandant’s eyes flicked over the stone-shell necklace around his neck, then back up to his face. “So you see yourself as a simple grounds worker, Commandant?” Karl asked him. “And we Numetodo are weeds threatening the flower of Nessantico? I suppose you believe that A’Teni ca’ Cellibrecca is but the Gardener of Brezno.”
Ca’Rudka chuckled; Karl found the sound to be sinister. “I knew my crude analogy wouldn’t escape you, Envoy. Yes, in fact, I do sometimes think of myself as in charge of the garden that is this city, as the Kraljica is in charge of the much greater garden that is the Holdings, as the a’teni and the Archigos are responsible for the flowering of the faithful.
As to the Numetodo. .” Ca’Rudka set his tea down on the stand; the cup chattered on the plate. “You’re the Envoy. You’re the one sent here to speak to the Kraljica on their behalf.”
“Commandant, the attack on the Archigos yesterday was not part of some Numetodo plot. It was the act of a single madman, who unfortunately does seem to have had Numetodo connections but whom I’ve never personally met. My credentials from the government of the Isle of Paeti. .”
Ca’Rudka waved him silent. “Your credentials are in order. I know; I checked them myself, months ago. If they weren’t, we wouldn’t be talking; well, at least not in this manner.” He rose from his chair and Karl stood with him. “Come, Envoy, let’s walk while we discuss this.”
He led Karl from the patio into the gardens. As they strolled the graveled walkways, the commandant pointed out some of the blooms
and arrangements. The commandant seemed to have a wide knowledge of horticulture, certainly more than Karl, who could name only the most common of the flowers here in Nessantico. The conversation, to Karl’s frustration, never seemed to come back to the Numetodo and the attempted assassination of the Archigos, but he forced himself to patience. Ca’Rudka, Karl had learned in his few months here, was-like the Kraljica herself-a person who did things in his own time. Like a handsome but dangerous beast of prey, he had to be watched carefully. They’d been walking for some time when ca’Rudka stopped. He crouched down near the path’s manicured edge. He pointed to a small plant there, its saw-toothed and purplish leaves just overhanging the edge of the walkway. “Weed or flower?” he asked Karl.
“I don’t know, Commandant.”
“It’s difficult to tell, isn’t it? Right now there’s no sign of a bloom, yet it could burst into triumphant color a week from now, or spread out to infest the entire area.” The commandant plunged his fingers into the soft earth around the plant, pulling it out of the ground with its roots intact. “You, my man!” he called to the nearest of the garden workers, who came running over at the summons. “Take this and put it in a small pot for me.” The man took the plant in cupped hands and hurried off.
“Dhaspi ce’Coeni has been executed,” ca’Rudka said without preamble as he wiped dirt from his hands. His dark eyes seemed to probe Karl’s face.
He forced himself to show nothing. “That’s as I expected, Commandant. Nessantico is well known throughout the Holdings for its. .”
He allowed himself the slightest of hesitations. “. . quick justice,” he finished.
Muscles pulled at the corners of ca’Rudka’s mouth. “It was justice, Envoy,” he answered. “And more. For attacking the Archigos, ce’Coeni’s life was forfeit, even if he’d tried to use a sword or arrow. But worse, his weapon was the Ilmodo, which is Cenzi’s Gift alone and which is forbidden by both Holdings law and the Concenzia Divolonte to anyone but the teni.”
“It wasn’t the Ilmodo, Commandant,” Karl said. “It was what we call the Scath Cumhacht.”
“Call it whatever you like,” ca’Rudka answered. “That’s only semantics.” Ca’Rudka continued to stare, unblinking even in the bright sun.
Karl found the man’s gaze disconcerting, but he couldn’t look away. “I should tell you that ce’Coeni signed a full confession before he died.”
“And that was of his own free will, no doubt.”
“I understand your skepticism, Envoy, but it happens often enough.
Some criminals wish to ease their souls by admitting their guilt before they go to meet Cenzi’s soul-weigher. I find it difficult to believe that ce’Coe was acting entirely alone, Envoy. I suspect there were other Numetodo involved.”
“Am I to be arrested, then, Commandant? Did his confession name
me as an accomplice? If so, I appreciate that you brought me here before taking me to the Bastida so I could sign my own confession for you.”
The gardener approached, and the commandant turned away for a moment to take the small clay pot from him. “Here,” ca’Rudka said to Karl, handing him the pot. Karl accepted the plant, and ca’Rudka reached toward him to stroke the leaves with a forefinger. “A garden can accept many plants: if they prove their own beauty, if they provide the right accents for the gardener’s taste, and if they can safely coex-ist with all the other plants. So-weed or flower, Envoy? Which is it, I wonder? Take care of that plant, water it and give it sun, and you’ll learn.”
“But you already know which it is, do you not, Commandant?”
Ca’Rudka’s eyes glittered. He smiled again, with a flash of teeth. “I do indeed, Envoy. But you don’t, and that’s what you need to decide, isn’t it?”