He would send the army forward over the border, hoping to take the Sun Throne himself.
That was the most frightening thought of all. Orlandi had thought of himself as the master, moving the pieces in the game, but the pieces had asserted their own wills.
Choose. You must choose.
The Archigos had given Orlandi an office in the Temple so that he wouldn’t need to return to Ile Verte in the wake of the Kraljica’s sudden illness. Orlandi went to his knees on the carpet, groaning with the effort as his joints protested, bending over until he huddled there with his back bowed, his forehead on the woolen nap. He prayed, as if he were a simple e’teni in the service of the temple. Cenzi, I beg You to help me now.
Show me Your will. Tell me how I can accomplish Your work. . He prayed, not knowing how long he stayed there, reciting from the praise-poems he loved so much in the Toustour. It is Your task that I do here. Not mine.
Guide me, for I am too blind and too confused to see the way. .
After a time, he rose slowly, sore and stiff. He wiped at his eyes. He’d heard no clear answer to his prayers, but he knew one thing: whether the A’Kralj or the Hirzg eventually sat on the throne, that person would need a proper wife who gave them a political tie they could use. And Orlandi could-he must-provide that.
Orlandi went to the door and spoke to the e’teni stationed there.
“Find someone to fetch the courier from Firenzcia and send him to me; I have a note for him to deliver to the Hirzg. Then go yourself to U’Teni Estraven ca’Cellibrecca at the Old Temple-inform him that
he is to come here immediately. Do you understand?” The e’teni-a young woman who looked to be no more than sixteen and fresh from her studies as an acolyte-nodded with wide eyes. She hesitated, and he waved an impatient hand at her. “Go,” he said, and she fled, without even giving him the sign of Cenzi.
Orlandi returned to his desk, pulling the cipher disk from a pocket in his vestments. He took a piece of vellum from the drawer and un-stoppered the inkwell. He wrote slowly and carefully, dusting the manuscript with sand and blowing it off before folding it. He took a candle and a stick of red wax and sealed the letter, pressing his ring into a cooling pool of wax the size of a bronze folia. He put the letter in an envelope, addressed it to the Hirzg, and also sealed that.
By the time he’d finished, the rider had arrived. He handed the man the envelope. “The Hirzg must have this in his hand in two days,” he told the man. “It’s vital and I don’t care how many horses you have to kill to get it to him. Do you understand me?” The rider nodded. Estraven was outside as Orlandi opened the door to usher out the courier.
“A’Teni,” Estraven said, bowing and giving the sign of Cenzi as the courier hurried away. “You asked for me?”
“I did,” Orlandi told him. “Come in. Sit, Estraven. There’s wine and water on the desk; please, refresh yourself.”
He watched while Estraven poured himself a glass of wine. “Sorry
it took so long to get here, A’Teni; when your e’teni came to tell me, I was just finishing the Second Call passages for the celebrants, and I had to speak to the choirmaster regarding the evening services and the ceremony for the Kraljica. I came as soon as I could.”
Orlandi waved his hand. “The needs of the Faith come first,” he said. “In a sense, that’s why I’ve sent for you. I need you-because I can trust you to keep the Faith’s business private.”
His marriage-son’s face took on a faint blush of pride. “Indeed you can, A’Teni. What do you need of me?”
“I want you to go to Brezno, Estraven,” he said. “Quickly. I want you to leave tomorrow morning.”
Estraven’s smile collapsed. The wine shuddered in his glass. “To Brezno? With the Kraljica’s funeral in a week? I thought you had left U’Teni cu’Kohnle in charge of Brezno and Firenzcia. A’Teni, what
of my charge here? — all the services, my obligations. . I couldn’t possibly. .”
“You can. You will,” Orlandi said firmly, and that closed Estraven’s mouth. “I will make arrangements for your obligations to be covered.
U’Teni cu’Kohnle is with the Hirzg and away from Brezno, and I need someone in that city for the next month or two. I need you there soon, especially with the loss of the Kraljica. I can’t leave Nessantico myself, not with the funeral.”
“What. .” Estraven stopped, licking his lips. He took a sip of the wine. He seemed to be recovering himself. “This is all so sudden. I’m sorry, A’Teni, if I seemed flustered, but this comes so unexpectedly. Certainly, I’ll do whatever you ask, as I always have. What do you require me to do in Brezno?”
“I will send you written instructions this afternoon, Estraven, for you to open once you reach the temple in Brezno. I will also send word to U’Teni cu’Kohnle about your temporary assignment. In the meantime, I want you to get yourself ready to leave at daybreak.”
Estraven set the wine down, rising. “I’ll begin, then,” he said. He tapped his clean-shaven chin with a finger. “I should send word to Francesca that we’ll be leaving-or have you done that already, A’Teni?
She’ll need to get the household together.”
“Francesca will be staying here,” Orlandi told him, and he enjoyed the blink that Estraven gave in response. “You’ll be traveling with Vajiki Carlo cu’Belli and those in his employ. He’s a trader who travels frequently through the Holdings, and he has served me as well for the last several years. I will send along two of the teni from my own staff to act as your aides and coordinate things for you once you reach Brezno; your personal staff should remain here since they know the routines for the Old Temple. Vajiki cu’Belli has been an associate of mine for some time, and I have every confidence in him, despite what you’ll find are his somewhat coarse ways. His loyalty is unquestioned.”
“Of course, A’Teni. Is there more I should know?”
“Not now,” Orlandi told him. He came over to him, taking the man’s hands in his own and patting them. “Estraven, I’m giving you this task because I know how committed you are to the Faith, and how well you’ve always served me. I rewarded you with Francesca’s hand because of your faith. Now I ask you to trust me once again.”
“Of course, A’Teni.” The bravado was back in Estraven’s voice, his ego adequately stroked. “I won’t fail you.”
“I know you won’t,” Orlandi answered. He released Estraven’s hands and went to one of the windows, pulling aside the curtain to look down at the temple square. “Now, you should go. You don’t have much time.”
Orlandi didn’t bother to watch Estraven’s bow. He’d send word immediately to cu’Belli and let the man know what needed to be done.
And he would have a late dinner with Francesca, alone, so they could talk.
Choose. He would choose. He must. But he would delay the choice until he could be certain which of the two major pieces on the board were the stronger: the A’Kralj or the Hirzg.
He wondered how Francesca would react to the news.
Sergei ca’Rudka
“Commandant, the body is over here.”
Sergei walked over to where a man gestured. His companion, O’Offizier ce’Falla, offered a silken handkerchief soaked in perfume, but Sergei waved it away. He walked through the high meadow grass to the bank of the A’Sele. He could see the body, like a black hummock in the grass, a few strides from the sullen green currents of the river. The scent of corruption already hung around the corpse, and black flies lifted in shrill irritation as he approached. A quartet of peasants stood close by, looking uneasy and half-frightened. Sergei smiled at them, though he could see them staring at his face. At the gleam of his nose.