Ca’Staunton saluted and rode off, calling to his offiziers. He barked orders to them and they scattered, dust rising in a line from their horses’ hooves as they galloped toward the main force of the army.
Two turns of the glass later, Jan called Markell to his tent. When the man entered, he went to Allesandra, playing with her soldiers, and hugged her quickly. “Go outside for awhile,” he told her. “Find your Georgi or get some food.”
“I want to stay, Vatarh. I want to listen.”
“No.” The single, firm word made her close her lips tightly. She gave Jan an ironic bow like a common offizier and left the tent. Watching the tent flap close behind her, Jan picked up the sheaf of parchments from his travel desk and tossed it toward Markell. “Ca’Cellibrecca is going to get his balls squeezed in a vise of his own making if he isn’t careful. When he does, I am going to enjoy hearing him squeal like the pig he is.”
“Hirzg?”
Jan waved a hand. “The man plays both sides, Markell. He had us get rid of his daughter’s inconvenient husband so she’d be free for marriage, and we went along with him. Now the woman’s free, yes, but she’s also free to marry the Kraljiki.”
Markell blinked. “To have the Kraljiki married to. .” He stopped.
Jan nodded. “Yes, my friend,” he said dryly. “You see it, too. A Kraljiki married to the Archigos’ daughter would be a perfect marriage of secular and religious power. And there just happens to be an un-married Kraljiki.” He pointed to the paper in Markell’s hands. “With her husband dead, ca’Cellibrecca’s daughter is now conveniently available for Justi. And the new Kraljiki will certainly be looking to marry soon to consolidate his position. Serendipitous, don’t you think?” Jan leaned back in his chair. “Kraljiki Justi ca’Cellibrecca. I’m sure A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca thinks that would be an excellent name. In fact, it makes me suspect that our Orlandi was the one behind the murder of the Kraljica, though of course he talks about nothing but the Numetodo in his letter, and how they must be exterminated. It’s wonderful to have such a convenient, politically-expedient excuse as the Numetodo. He also tells us that ‘it’s urgent that we abandon our present course for the time being.’ He says our plans must now wait ‘until we have a chance to fully examine the implications of the current situation.’ Though, of course, he’s now stuck in Nessantico for the duration and doesn’t know when he’ll return to Brezno. The cunning bastard. .”
Rising from his chair, Jan snatched the letter back from Markell’s hand and scanned it again, his nostrils flaring. He tossed the parchment into the small warming stove in the center of the tent and watched the edges curl, darken, and finally burst into flame. “I begin to believe that A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca always considered us a secondary strategy, something to use if his plot to kill the Kraljica failed and he couldn’t manipulate Marguerite’s poor excuse for a son. Now everything’s fallen in place for him. All that remains is for our army to stand down and he has everything he wants. The next news from Nessantico will tell us how that dwarf ca’Millac has died and ca’Cellibrecca has been installed as the new Archigos, and that the Kraljiki has married Francesca. As Archigos, he would hold the threat of withdrawing the Faith’s support from Firenzcia if I don’t submit-and U’Teni cu’Kohnle, who served with ca’Cellibrecca, just happens to be our chief war-teni.”
“Cu’Kohnle is Firenzcian, unlike ca’Cellibrecca,” Markell said. “His loyalty is to you more than A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca.”
“Maybe,” Jan grunted. “But when the A’Teni is Archigos Orlandi, that may change. The new Kraljiki will also insist that I stay married to that pious cow Greta. No doubt the news has reached Brezno by
now; I’ll wager she’s on her knees praying to Cenzi in gratitude for her deliverance. I wonder if she and ca’Cellibrecca weren’t plotting this all along.”
Jan paced the small perimeter of the tent and sat again. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the encampment: low talk, a burst of laughter, the clatter and bustle as food was prepared. Markell waited patiently, warming his hands over the coals where ca’Cellibrecca’s paper was now ash.
“Vatarh?” It was Allesandra, standing at the tent flap. She let it drop behind her. “Vatarh, you told me that a good general must know which battles he can win and which he cannot. Is this one you can win?”
He stared at her, shaking his head. “You were listening?”
“You told me to go outside and find Georgi. I looked and I didn’t see him. You didn’t tell me not to listen.”
Markell raised his eyebrows. Jan sighed. “So you’ve listened and you know. In that case, what do you think?”
“In all the stories you’ve ever told me, and in all the ones Georgi knows, the Hirzg never gives up. I think A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca doesn’t know those stories, or he didn’t listen to them very well.”
Jan laughed, and Markell joined in. “The wisdom of a child,” Jan said.
He nodded, and applauded softly. “This has been a battle without armies,”
he told her, “as it has been since we started this course. But we have an army with us. If we turn back now, we lose the advantage of the field.”
“My Hirzg?” Markell asked.
“Justi has the title. That’s all. He has nothing else yet. And
ca’Cellibrecca isn’t yet the Archigos. We’re only two days from the border and a fortnight to the gates of Nessantico itself. Ca’Cellibrecca advises us to wait-but he has the interests of Orlandi ca’Cellibrecca in mind, not the Hirzg of Firenzcia. As my daughter has just said, he doesn’t know the stories of Firenzcia.”
Jan saw the ghost of a smile press against Markell’s thin lips. “Should I inform the Starkkapitan that we will continue our advance in the morning?”
“Tell him that I intend to pay a personal visit to the new Kraljiki,” Jan told him. “And send U’Teni cu’Kohnle in; I need to know where his loyalties truly lie.”
“As you wish, my Hirzg,” Markell answered with a quick bow. He opened the flaps of the tent, and Jan heard him speak quickly to one of the gardai, and then the rattle of armor as the man strode quickly away.
“A good general doesn’t hedge,” Jan said to Allesandra. “And he doesn’t hesitate because the winds have changed. He uses them, instead.”
Ana cu’Seranta
“Let me take your cloak, O’Teni Ana. They say the weather will change soon.”
“Where’s Vatarh?” Ana asked Sala. The maidservant shook her head.
“He’s not here, O’Teni Ana,” she answered. “He’s away in Prajnoli on business. He’s away almost all the time, ever since. .” She hesitated, and Ana saw a blush creep from her neck to her cheeks.
“I understand,” she told the girl. “Don’t worry about it, Sala. Matarh?”
“She’s expecting you, in the sun room. I’ll announce that you’re here.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll go on back and surprise her.”
The house no longer seemed familiar to her at all-it had changed even more since she’d last been here. The smell of fresh plaster and paint hung in the foyer, an odor like guilt. The hallway beyond the front door was now a pale blue instead of the yellow she remembered, and when she reached the archway into the sun room, it was no longer draped with black as it had been when her matarh was sick but was now filled with flowers and plants, and there was a young male servant she didn’t know there with Tari. And the woman, standing with her back to Ana and tending to a pot of blue-and-white-petaled skyblooms. .
Ana felt her breath catch. After the argument they’d had the last time they met, Ana had been surprised when her matarh had sent Ana a request to visit. Please, Cenzi, don’t let her still hate me. .
“O’Teni Ana!” Tari exclaimed, seeing her, and the woman turned from the skyblooms.