“It’s not me you offend but the entire Faith, Dhosti. I’ve made no secret of my feelings on that, and I tell it to your face now. Cenzi blessed you and brought you to your position. I’ve seen how well you used to craft the Ilmodo and I know that, at least at one time, Cenzi smiled on you. I’ve even admitted how much I admire your intellect and your skill. But in this time especially, when Concenzia needs to remain with the Toustour and the Divolonte, I see you falling away from those tenets or ignoring them. You’ve become soft, Dhosti.”
“We believe the same things. We simply interpret the Divolonte differently, Orlandi. That’s all. The Toustour is the word of Cenzi and we agree on that; the Divolonte, however, is only a set of laws fallible people have created to interpret the path the Toustour shows us.”
Ca’Cellibrecca’s head was shaking before Dhosti had finished. “No,”
he answered before Dhosti’s voice had even faded. “There are no interpretations of the Divolonte any more than there are of the Toustour. There is only the truth, right there in the words Cenzi has given us. You convinced the Kraljica that she could coddle the Numetodo and even listen to their entreaties when they, in fact, threaten everything we believe in-that was bad enough. And now you allow this protegee of yours to flaunt the Divolonte as well. I tell you, Archigos, that your arrogance is visible and I’m not the only one who sees it. While you have been sitting there doing nothing, there are those within Concenzia who are less patient and more faithful, and we have more power than you think.”
Dhosti again feigned nonchalance. He suspected it fooled neither of them. “What is it that you want me to do?”
“What you should have done all along. The Kraljica listens to you.
Advise her that this tolerance of the Numetodo must stop. Tell her to use the laws that are already in place that she ignores. Stop giving audiences and diplomatic privileges to the delegates the Numetodo sent to Nessantico from Paeti or Graubundi. Send this grotesque ‘Envoy’
ci’Vliomani away, or better yet, toss him in the Bastida. The Numetodo threaten our society and all that we believe, and their presence will tear the Holdings and the Concenzia Faith apart. The Numetodo are a pes-tilence. One doesn’t rid oneself of a swarm of rats by inviting them into your house. You capture them and you eliminate them.”
The man’s words sent a shudder through Dhosti’s contorted body.
“You sound so certain of yourself, Orlandi.”
“I am. As you should be. I pray to Cenzi every day for His guidance. And I’m not alone, Archigos. Talk to A’Teni ca’Xana of Malacki, A’Teni ca’Miccord of Kishkoros, A’Teni ca’Seiffel of Karnmor. Do you want me to keep going, Dhosti? You know I can.”
This is my fault. Dhosti sighed. I was sleeping here too long, and I’ve let this poison fester until it may be too late to stop it. Cenzi, forgive me. I was a poor servant to You. “Then you must do what you must do, Orlandi.
Summon a Council of Examination against me if you can get the votes of enough of the a’teni. That’s also in the Divolonte.”
Orlandi rose from his chair. Again he clasped hands over his staff and lifted it toward the throne. “I’ve done what I needed to do, Archigos. I’ve given you my warning, and I hope you can reflect on it, pray to Cenzi for guidance, and change. I see you leading the Faith to the very precipice, and it’s not only my inclination but my solemn duty to do all and everything I can to change that course.”
“I consider myself adequately warned, A’Teni.”
“Good.” Ca’Cellibrecca began to turn to leave, then hesitated.
“We’ve never been friends, Archigos. Neither one of us would pretend that. But I want you to understand that I only want what is best for Concenzia. That’s my sole concern.”
“As it’s mine,” Dhosti answered.
A nod. Heavily, ca’Cellibrecca made his way to the door and tapped on it with the head of his staff. Kenne opened the doors, glancing sympathetically toward Dhosti as the a’teni passed him. “Can I get you anything, Archigos?”
Dhosti shook his head and Kenne closed the doors again.
“Cenzi sent me. He sent me to punish you. .” He could feel the crush-ing weight of the demon on his chest and he could not take a breath.
“I don’t care. Take me,” he said aloud to Cenzi, to the demon, but the weight was already lifting and he could breathe again.
“Tell me that I’m right,” he said to the air. “Is that too much to ask?”
But there was no answer.
Ana cu’Seranta
“Matarh! I’m so glad you’ve come.”
Abini-her eyes wide as she looked all around her-entered the reception room of Ana’s apartment behind Watha, who nodded to Ana and shut the door again. Ana took her matarh’s hand, led her to the soft brocade of the couch before the fire, and sat beside her. “You’re looking so well, the way I remember you. I’ve missed you so much, Matarh. Do you remember? — while you were sick, I used to come to see you every morning before I had to go to the Old Temple for classes. We prayed together, and I’d talk to you. Do you remember that at all?”
Abini was shaking her head, either in answer to Ana or because of what she saw around her. “Ana, this is all yours. .?”
“Yes,” Ana told her. “The Archigos gave this apartment to me. And it’s yours as well, Matarh, if you ever want to stay here with me.”
That brought Abini’s gaze back to Ana with a quick, sharp movement of her head. “Why?” she asked. “Why would I want to stay here, Ana? Is that why-” She closed her mouth abruptly.
Ana sighed, taking her matarh’s hands again. “What happened yesterday with Vatarh was a mistake, Matarh. I let myself get too angry, and I shouldn’t have.”
“How could you possibly become so angry with your vatarh that you
would use the Ilmodo against him?”
Ana shook her head. She had spent the night restlessly, unable to sleep, wondering what she should say to her matarh. In the end, after much reflection and prayer, she had decided to say nothing. Perhaps Vatarh will change now that Matarh’s well again. Maybe he will be the person I used to love. Perhaps he was right and we should both forget what happened.
The decision still didn’t feel right; it left a burning in her stomach, but to confess. .
Ana took a long breath. “We argued, Matarh. Why doesn’t matter.
Let’s not talk about it. Let’s enjoy our time together, now that we can once again.” Ana rose quickly from the couch, not wanting her matarh to see what was in her face. “I’ll ask Sunna to brew some tea, and she makes wonderful sweet biscuits.”
“Not talk about it? You nearly destroyed our-my-house, Ana, and the gossip from the neighbors-” She stopped again, putting her hands to her lips, and Ana sank down beside her again.
“Matarh, you’ve been sick so long. I was terribly afraid that I was going to lose you.” So much so that I made certain I wouldn’t, even against the rules of the Faith. But that was something she couldn’t say, either.
“Please. You’re better now, and that’s what’s important. We have so much to talk about. Have you started going out yet? I’m certain that I could get you an invitation to the Gschnas: at the Grande Palais, Matarh. Would you like that? The Gschnas at the Palais itself, instead of some old hall filled with ci’ and ce’.”
“Why were you arguing with your vatarh?” Abini persisted. “I heard you, all the way in the garden.”