Strangely, the glee in Ancel’s face soured Nico’s good mood. He looked at them, at their pleasure, and Cenzi moved in him. He frowned, his face darkening. “Why are you laughing? Why do you grin?” he asked them, and the scorn in his voice wiped the celebration from their mouths. The room went rapidly quiet. Liana released him; Ancel took a step back, his face suddenly crestfallen.
“I’m sorry, Absolute,” Ancel said, spreading his hands in apology. “Didn’t we do as Cenzi asked us to do?”
“We did,” Nico answered him. “And we succeeded only because we have His hands over us. Should we celebrate that? Yes, we’ve sent several of the heretics to Him for His judgment, but we’ve taken away childrens’ vatarhs and matarhs, we’ve shattered their families. We’ve brought hardship on those close to them, and many of them are not our enemy. Many of them are believers. Should we be pleased that we’ve hurt them, that we’ve caused them pain?”
“I didn’t think-” Ancel began, and Nico cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“No, you didn’t. None of you did. Not even me.” He took a breath, and he felt Cenzi’s words filling his mind. “These are lives we’re talking about. These are people who are little different from us. Yes, they’re heretics. Yes, they poison the Holdings and the Faith with their very presence. Yes, they’re our enemies. But they are people nonetheless, and when we cause them pain, we bring pain upon ourselves at the same time.”
He could feel hot tears welling in his eyes, and he didn’t care that they spilled over and ran down his cheeks as his disciples watched. “I don’t mourn a broken cup. I don’t grieve if the strap on my sandal breaks. But I do cry for the Numetodo. I cry because they failed to see the truth. I cry because I could not convince them to follow the truth. I cry because it was given to me to be their executioner. I cry because it pains me to see the waste of their great potential.”
Then he felt Cenzi lift him, and he dragged his sleeve over his eyes as the anger left him. “Ancel,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. I’m not. You are my right hand, and you’ve done well today. All of you have, and we should be pleased that we were able to demonstrate Cenzi’s power to those who control the Holdings and the Faith. We have been good servants today. But it’s our task to always be good servants, to be ready to run when the Master calls us and to do His bidding no matter what he asks of us.”
Nico opened his arms, taking a step toward Ancel and enfolding him in his arms. He kissed the man’s cheek. “You know this. I know you do, and it wasn’t my place to scold you. Do you forgive me, my friend?”
Ancel grimaced, then let out a breath through his nose. He nodded, and Nico grabbed his head and kissed the crown of it. He clapped the man on the back. He smiled at them all. Liana embraced him again, pressing her stomach and their child to his.
“We’ve all done well today,” he said to them, his gaze sweeping over the people gathered in the room. “You are all blessed.”
Varina ca’Pallo
Her ears were ringing and she could barely hear the voices talking to her through the din. That was an improvement, at least: immediately after the blast she’d found herself entirely deafened. She’d been carried to the nearest building-one of the Holdings’ bureaucratic offices that dominated the Isle A’Kralji. Healers had been sent for; gardai had flitted in and out asking questions of her and Sergei. Even Commandant cu’Ingres had seen her, and the news he had brought her was grim. Kraljica Allesandra and A’Teni ca’Paim were both shaken but unharmed, but of the dozen Numetodo who had been accompanying Karl’s bier-all of them friends, most of them longtime members of the group-five were dead, and three more were seriously injured. Even if they lived, they would suffer from the effects of this day for the rest of their lives.
Varina cried for them more than she cried for Karl, who was beyond suffering.
Talbot had been among those escorting the bier; luckily, his injuries had been minor.
Varina frowned in concentration toward Sergei, who was leaning over her solicitously. She could see her warped reflection in his silver nose; her face was scratched, a long line of dried blood slicing across her forehead, and her right cheek was dark with a rising bruise. “The deafness should be temporary, the healers tells me,” he was saying. She had to concentrate on his lips to understand him. “That’s good news for both of us-my hearing has suffered enough in the last few years. They also tell me that none of your injuries are likely to be serious, though you’re going to be stiff and sore for several days. You don’t appear to have broken bones, though you should let them know if you feel sharp pain inside, or if your cuts start to grow red or foul.”
“It was Nico who did this?” she asked.
Sergei scowled. “Yes,” he said. “He and the Morellis. One of the gardai swears that he saw Nico in the group below the puppet.”
“Why would he do this? Karl and I never… never…” She bit at her lower lip, the tears threatening again at mention of his name.
“Hopefully you’ll get to ask the man yourself, when we find him,” Sergei told her. “And they will find him. I’ve already told Commandant cu’Ingres that I will personally oversee the search for Morel if he’s not already been captured by the time I return from Brezno.”
“You’re still going? You’re all right?”
“I’m old and tough-it will take more than a bit of black sand to stop me. I’ve already started an investigation into how they acquired the black sand; I suspect that someone within the Armory is a Morelli sympathizer. But with the recent border incursions, I have to go.. .” The smile collapsed as if under its own weight, and he placed his hand on Varina’s shoulder. “I’m so very sorry, Varina. This should never have happened. Karl deserved far better than this.”
The weeping overtook her then, and she could not speak. Sergei patted her shoulder, but his gaze was elsewhere. “Karl’s… body?” she managed to say, finally.
“Karl’s body,” he said, and she could see by the tightening of his lips that he wasn’t telling her everything, “has been recovered and is already on the pyre at the Kraljica’s Palais. The Garde Kralji have been stationed around it, and there are several Numetodo there as well, who say they won’t leave until the pyre’s been lit.”
“I need to go there, then.” Varina started up. She could feel her muscles protesting the movement, but she managed to sit. The room lurched around her, then settled.
“Varina, Kraljica Allesandra said she would light the pyre herself. The healers have said you should stay-”
“I need to go there,” she said, more firmly, and Sergei sighed. He nodded.
“I told the Kraljica that would be your answer. I’ll accompany you there…”
“Varina…” Kraljica Allesandra enveloped her as she stepped from the carriage after Sergei. “I am so sorry. I must take the blame for this atrocity. We obviously didn’t take all the precautions we should have, and that’s my responsibility.”
Varina shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said simply. Behind the courtiers and chevarittai who flanked Allesandra, she saw Mason ce’Fieur, a Numetodo and friend, and one of her students within the group. He nodded to her grimly. “Excuse me, Kraljica,” she said to Allesandra, and went to Mason. They embraced.
“A’Morce Numetodo,” he said, and the use of the title startled her. Karl had been the nominal head of the group for as long as she had been with them. She’d never considered that with his passing, the title might pass to her, but it seemed it had. “We’ve been waiting, all of us.”
She glanced toward the pyre. There were the ca’-andcu’ in their finery-the palais sycophants who wanted the Kraljica to see them-but there were also the Numetodo of the city, most of them ce’ or less: two hundred or more of them, faces she recognized, people she had worked with and taught. They stood there now, silent and patient.