A Magic of Twilight nc-1

by S L Farrell

  He guided her through the back corridors and out through a door to the more public corridors of the palace.

  Justi had left their bed much earlier, with a perfunctory kiss to the forehead. “The duty of the Holdings calls,” he said. “Renard will be here in a turn of the glass for you. If you would like to break your fast here, tell him and he will arrange it. I may call for you later, perhaps.”

  He seemed distracted, cool and distant.

  She pulled the covers to herself and watched him leave and close the door behind him. Through the carved wooden panels, she heard

  servants entering the dressing chamber to assist him.

  The normal bustle of the day had already begun, with the courtiers gathering near the door of the reception hall and the ca’-and-cu’ who had business at the palace that day arriving in their carriages at the front entrance. “I took the liberty of having your servants send a carriage for you,” Renard told Ana, stopping near the doors of the hall.

  “It’s waiting for you now.”

  “Thank you, Renard,” she told him. “I can find my way from here.”

  He bowed with clasped hands to forehead and left her. Ana took a breath, pulled the cowl of her robes over her head, and started toward the main entrance and the crowds there.

  “O’Teni cu’Seranta!” She heard her name called, a feminine voice, and she saw Francesca ca’Cellibrecca just leaving the hall. She detached herself from a knot of courtiers with a word and came toward her. The woman seemed to be assessing her, her head slightly tilted.

  “Vajiki ca’Cellibrecca,” Ana said, clasping hands to forehead. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for the loss of your husband.”

  Francesca waved away the comment. Her lips pressed together before she spoke, as if she were suppressing a thought. “It’s surprising to see you here at the palais so early,” she said. “Weren’t you with the Archigos at the temple for the First Call?”

  “Normally I would have been, Vajica,” Ana said. “But the Archigos sent me here to deliver a message.”

  “Ah. .” Francesca smiled. “The message must have been an important one to necessitate making his favorite o’teni an errand girl.” She stopped. Sniffed the air. “Lavender,” she said. “It’s an exquisite scent, don’t you think?” Her eyebrows arched with the question.

  Ana felt herself color and hoped that the cowl shadowed her face sufficiently. “Indeed,” she said. “I’m sorry, Vajica, I really must be getting back. I have a driver waiting.”

  She started to hurry past the woman, but ca’Cellibrecca reached out her hand and caught Ana’s arm. Fingers dug into her biceps as Francesca drew her close. “You fuck him, don’t you, O’Teni?” she whispered, and the raw obscenity snapped her head around to glare at the woman. “Yes, you do,” Francesca purred, her voice sounding strangely satisfied. “Well, so do I. Interesting. Well, I knew I wouldn’t be the only one to share his bed. I wonder which one of us he prefers, O’Teni?”

  Ana pulled her arm away. Courtiers, chevarittai, and supplicants stared at them from down the hall, the ca’-and-cu’ whispering and pointing. “I have nothing to say to you, Vajica,” Ana said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Francesca laughed, as if the two of them were sharing a joke. “Oh, we both know that I do, though I must admit that I’m a bit startled. It certainly can’t be beauty he sees in you, only the possibility of gaining power-that’s all he really wants from us, after all-the advantage we can give him. The fact that we’ll spread our legs for him as if we were grandes horizontales is just an additional benefit.”

  Ana gasped as if the woman had slapped her across the face. “Vajica, I won’t listen to this crudity.” She started to walk away but Francesca’s voice stopped her, nearly loud enough to be heard by the others watching them.

  “You reek of him, O’Teni. I would suggest a long bath and strong perfume. It’s what I do afterward. And if you haven’t already taken precautions, I can recommend a good midwife who has potions you can take to avoid. . consequences.”

  Ana half-turned to her. “We’ve nothing more say to each other, Vajica. I am done with this conversation.”

  “Then listen to this as a parting word,” Francesca told her. “I won’t be replaced by you, O’Teni. I won’t.”

  “No one ever wishes to replace a pile of dung, Vajica. They only wish to get rid of it as quickly as possible.” Francesca’s eyes widened as Ana gave her the sign of Cenzi once more and strode away.

  “I’m to meet the Kraljiki and my vatarh after lunch, O’Teni cu’Seranta,” Francesca called after her-loudly now, so that all those in the hall heard her clearly. “I’ll be certain to mention to him that you and I had a perfectly charming conversation.”

  Ana ignored her, continuing to walk toward the open doors of the palace. She could feel the stares of the courtiers and their whispered speculations at her back as she made her way to her carriage.

  Deceptions

  Jan ca’Vorl

  The rider-an outrider scout, an e’offizier named ci’Baden-was mud-spattered and exhausted. He gratefully drank the flagon of water that Jan handed him, though he refused to take the seat that was offered. “My Hirzg, I came as quickly as I could. I have seen a platoon of the Garde Civile. They are within our borders and moving in our general direction. They number thirty men; they also have a single warteni with them, and several messenger birds in cages.”

  They were outside Jan’s tent, in the early morning sun. Jan glanced over to Markell and Starkkapitan ca’Staunton; behind them, Allesandra sat on the stool of Jan’s field desk, listening quietly with her tutor Georgi, O’Offizier ci’Arndt, at her side. The army was encamped in a steep-sloped valley of pastureland. Sheep and goats wandered the hillsides, grazing on the heather. Around them, the men were striking their tents in preparation for the day’s march. “You know where they are now?”

  The outrider nodded, gulping at the water. “I can find them again easily; they’re less than a morning’s ride away by now, following the Clario road.”

  “Good. Go now and get some food. The starkkapitan will make certain you’re given a new horse and a troop of your own: ten men, to leave as soon as possible. E’Offizier ci’Baden, I want you to find that platoon of Garde Civile again. You will carry the standard of the Third Chevarittai and be dressed in armor with our colors prominent. Let them glimpse you and the banner. Make no contact with them and

  don’t get close enough to let any of the war-teni’s spells reach you. As soon as you know you’ve been seen, turn and retreat back to here as if you’re startled at finding them and are rushing back to report-not so quickly that they can’t follow you; not so slowly that they realize you’re leading them. You see that knoll there?” Jan pointed to a small rise in the valley, with a stand of oaks at its summit. Ci’Baden nodded. “I will wait for you there. Can you do that?”

  Ci’Baden bowed to Jan, who nodded back perfunctorily. “Bring them back by evening, E’Offizier.” Ci’Baden bowed again and rushed away as Jan turned to ca’Staunton. “Starkkapitan, take the army on through the pass at double-time and wait. Leave me a company of men here as well as U’Teni cu’Kohnle and two more of the war-teni-that should be far more than sufficient.”

  Allesandra tugged at the sleeve of Jan’s bashta. “I will stay with you, Vatarh. I want to see.”

  “No,” he told her firmly. “You’ll go with the starkkapitan. O’Offizier ci’Arndt will accompany you, so you can continue studying.” As he

  glanced at ci’Arndt, he saw disappointment spread visibly over the man’s face. “Is there a problem, O’Offizier? You may speak freely,” Jan said to the man.

  “My Hirzg, I would rather be with you, where my sword might be of help.” Jan saw Allesandra’s face light with that.

  “And me also, Vatarh,” she said.

  His daughter’s eagerness momentarily dissolved Jan’s irritation-

  it reminded him of how he’d reacted, when his own vatarh
had left

  him behind to go to war. He’d wanted more than anything to be with him. . “There will be time and opportunity for you, O’Offizier,” he answered ci’Arndt. “I promise you. For now, take the A’Hirzg up on the slopes of the pass so she can see the valley. Stay with her and answer her questions.”

  O’Offizier ci’Arndt saluted, Allesandra pouted. Starkkapitan

  ca’Staunton shifted his weight, chain mail rustling. “My Hirzg, I would rather you allow me to leave one of my a’offiziers in charge here. You should stay with the army, where you can be protected.”

  Ca’Staunton’s whining objection rekindled Jan’s irritation. “You

  don’t think I’m competent enough to be in command, Starrkapitan?”

  Ca’Staunton’s face blanched. “No, my Hirzg. Of course not. I only-”

  Jan cut him off with a slash of his hand through the cool air. “You’ll do as I ordered, Starkkapitan,” Jan snapped. “I suggest you go make certain that those orders are carried out. Now.”

  Ca’Staunton looked as if he were about to protest further. His eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened on the jeweled hilt of his sword of office. Then he bowed to Jan as curtly as politeness allowed and stalked off. Jan heard him bellowing orders as he went.

  “The starkkapitan’s offiziers are going to be unhappy,” Markell commented. “He’ll take out his frustration on them. It would seem the Kraljiki has heard rumors of your advance.”

  “It’s probably my dear wife who sent the Kraljiki the warning,” Jan answered. “And if I find out that’s the case, I won’t need an annulment from the Archigos to rid myself of her.” Markell rolled his eyes toward Allesandra, and Jan sighed. “Allesandra, perhaps you should leave. .”

  “I don’t like Matarh either, Vatarh. I told you-I like Mara much better.”

  He might have chuckled at another time. Instead, he grimaced.

  “Go on,” he told her, sternly. “And this time, no listening. O’Offizier ci’Arndt, if you’d go with her. .”

  Allesandra sighed dramatically. She hopped down from the stool and left the tent with ci’Arndt behind her. Markell’s face didn’t change expression, but the way his shoulders had drawn back told Jan that he was thinking, as was Jan, of the Kraljiki’s insulting arrogance in sending troops within Firenzcia’s border. “I will make inquiries on my own regarding the Hirgin and report back to you,” Markell said. “The Tete of the Palais staff in Brezno may have something he can tell us. But if the Kraljiki has sent out the Garde Civile to verify the rumors of our advance, won’t the silence from one of his offiziers confirm that? The messenger birds indicate that he expects regular reports.”

  “By the time the silence becomes critical, we will be on the Avi a’Firenzcia and nearly within sight of the city. He won’t have time to react. Besides, Markell, who says that this offizier won’t be reporting back to the Kraljiki as he’s supposed to?” Jan grinned and slapped the thin man on the back. “It’s a fine day, I think, for the first battle of this war. . ”

  The sun had descended nearly to the shoulders of the western ridge before Jan saw the riders: first the galloping horses of ci’Baden’s small group tearing at the soft earth of the valley as the banner of Firenzcia fluttered in the hands of the lead rider. Behind them by a half mile or so, the platoon of Garde Civile, their chain mail draped in the blue and gold of Nessantico, rode quickly but more cautiously into the valley.

  Ci’Baden brought his troop thundering up the short slope to the top of the knoll where Jan, Markell, and U’Teni cu’Kohnle waited for them on their own horses. Jan was dressed in his battle armor: his cuirass chased with silver filigree and draped in the white and red of Firenzcia.

  He wore a thin, golden crown. “My Hirzg,” ci’Baden said, saluting and panting as he leaned forward in his saddle. “They come.”

  “As promised,” Jan told him. “Good work, E’Offizier; you’ll be rewarded for this, I promise. Now, if you and your men would stand with me. .” The men turned their horses and they waited on the knoll, the nostrils of their horses blowing clouds of heated breath as they watched the intruders approach.

  They were no more than a quarter mile away now. Jan could see that the offizier in charge was troubled. He signaled his men to a halt, glancing from Jan on the knoll to the sides of the valley around them.

  Jan saw him converse rapidly with his men, and two horses turned and pounded away the way they’d come. They’d gone no more than a few

  hundred yards when a volley of arrows from the nearest copse of trees took down both riders and their horses. Jan could hear the scream of one of the crippled horses from the knoll until a second flurry of arrows stopped it.

  The riders had turned at the sound as well, and now they drew their weapons: as the soldiers Jan had placed around the valley emerged from cover; as he nudged his horse into a slow walk down from the knoll, the others following.

  The war-teni had begun chanting, but he was already too late: cu’Kohnle had begun his own spell as soon as Jan had begun to move, and now he released it. The ground erupted under the teni, a fountain of rock and earth that sent the man, broken and screaming, high into the air and then slammed him back down again, taking down a half-dozen of the riders next to him as well. One of the cages for the messenger birds broke open with the impact. A trio of white-and-tan pigeons fluttered up from the carnage; archers quickly brought them down. The offizier bellowed orders, but Jan’s voice was far louder.

  “Enough! Put your weapons down. Surrender and none of the rest of you need die.”

  “Surrender?” the offizier asked, his voice sounding weak compared

  to Jan’s. He was bleeding from one of the rocks torn from the ground, the side of his face streaming red down his neck. “Is Firenzcia at war against the Holdings, then?”

  “I would say that it appears Nessantico is at war with Firenzcia,” Jan answered. “The Kraljiki sends the Garde Civile into my country, against the laws of the Holdings and Firenzcia both,” Jan answered. “I am Hirzg Jan ca’Vorl, and I rule here. Put your weapons down. You’ve been sent on a fool’s errand and you have no chance here. None.”

  He could see the man hesitating, looking about as Jan’s soldiers closed around them. With a look of disgust, he tossed his sword on the ground. “Weapons down and dismount!” he growled to his men. “Do it!”

  Steel clattered on grass as the men descended from their horses.

  Jan raised his hand; cu’Kohnle ceased chanting a new spell. Markell gestured to the foot soldiers to pick up the surrendered weapons, to take the caged messenger birds, and to lead the horses away. Other men bound the hands of the captives. “That was wise,” Jan said. He was close enough now that he could see the stripes of the man’s rank on his shoulders. “Tell me, O’Offizier, who sent you here, and what were your orders? What were you looking for?”

  “The order came from my a’offizier,” the man answered. “Who gave him that order, I don’t know. As for what we were to look for. .” The man wiped at the blood on his face. “We seem to have found that.”

  Jan sniffed. “You have, indeed.” He turned to ci’Baden. “I leave you in charge,” he told the e’offizier. “These men are spies, who have trespassed into Firenzcia against our laws, the laws of the Holdings, and the law of the Divolonte. Execute them.”

  Ci’Baden’s face blanched, but he saluted. The Nessantican o’offizier shrieked at the Hirzg, breaking away from the soldier who had tied his hands and surging toward Jan. Ci’Baden leaped from his saddle and pushed the man back even as the o’offizier spat invectives at Jan. “No! You can’t do this! Is this what the word of the Hirzg is worth? The Kraljiki will put your head on a pike of the Pontica Kralji. You’re a gutless coward and a liar!”

  Ci’Baden stepped forward and slammed the hilt of his sword into the offizier’s face. Jan heard teeth and bone crack as the man crumpled.

  “Execute them,” Jan said again to ci’Baden. “As the laws demand. All but the o’offizi
er; we’ll need him alive for a bit. Markell-we will rejoin the starkkapitan and the A’Hirzg, and perhaps we will send a bird back to Nessantico.”

  He turned his horse and rode away to the screams and curses of the Nessantico captives.

  Ana cu’Seranta

  “Ana!”

  Ana turned, startled both by the sound of the voice and the toofamiliar use of her name. She could see Mahri, crouched at the corner of the building. The ragged beggar beckoned to her. “How dare you address me in such a manner,” she snapped at him. “Leave here now or I’ll call an utilino and have you arrested.” She turned quickly to hurry on.

  “Please,” the cracked voice pleaded. His ruined, one-eyed face glanced around at the crowded plaza, as if he were about to flee if noticed. “I have news for you. Of Envoy ci’Vliomani.”

  Ana hesitated. She was coming from the Second Call services, hurrying to her apartments to change before going to meet the Kraljiki again. There were many people about in the plaza; if she shouted, they would hurry to her. She bit at her lip, uncertain, then went over to him, following him back a few steps between the side of the temple and the sacristy alongside. “Tell me quickly,” she demanded. “I don’t have much time. What of Envoy ci’Vliomani?”

  Mahri’s breathed wheezed in his lungs. He tapped his chest. “I. .”

  he said. He stopped and swallowed. “I am not Mahri. I’m Karl. I’m Karl, Ana.”

  Ana could not stop the laugh of disbelief. “I don’t know what game you’re playing here, but I won’t be part of it. Good day to you.”

  “No!” Mahri spat out. “Listen. You came to me in my cell in the Bastida. Commandant ca’Rudka brought you. He chained your hands together. You told me that you’d lost the ability to use the Scath Cumhacht, the Ilmodo. You said that you’d lost your faith. .”

  “How do you know that?” Suspicion narrowed her eyes. “You have spies in the Bastida, or you can use the Ilmodo yourself. .”