“No!” This time Kenne nearly shouted the word, stamping a foot on the ground at the same time. “I am not mistaken. I know you all think of me as a doddering old fool who’s a poor pale shadow of what an Archigos should be. There you might be right, but you are wrong in this. Worse than wrong-I have evidence that makes me believe that the false Archigos Semini was involved in the assassination of Archigos Ana. And if that is the case…” He stopped, out of breath. They were staring at him, all of them, as if they might at a child who was throwing a tantrum. “We need the Numetodo, Kraljica, Councillors,” he continued, lowering his voice. “We need their skills, their magic, and we need their knowledge. Nessantico is about to be under siege from both west and east, and we can’t afford to lose those who can help us.”
There was a long, painful silence. Odil licked his lips and sat. The other Council members lowered their heads, glancing at each other. Kraljica Sigourney stared outward to the dark stain on the tiles. “We will consider what you have said, Archigos,” she said finally, and he knew what that meant.
He grunted, lifting himself from his seat again. He took the staff of the Archigos in his right hand-the cracked globe wrapped in the naked, writhing bodies of the Moitidi-and gave the Kraljica the sign of Cenzi with the left. Again, he shuffled his way from the dais. As he passed the spot where the black sand had exploded, he stopped. The tiles there had broken. He picked up one of the larger pieces: the soft blue glaze razor sharp along one edge, the smooth surface stained with what looked to be soot. The smell of the black sand was strong. Kenne hefted the chunk of tile and let it fall, and the sound was that of a dish breaking. He watched bits of the tile bounce and scatter.
“All of Nessantico could look like this,” he told them. “All of it.”
There was no answer. He tapped the end of the Archigos’ staff on the tile and shuffled on.
Sergei ca’Rudka
The Parley tent was arrayed in the field between the two forces: just off the Avi a’Firenzcia and about halfway between Passe a’Fiume and Nessantico. As they approached, Sergei could already see the shadowed forms of Odil ca’Mazzack and Aubri cu’Ulcai under the white fabric, along with U’Teni Petros cu’Magnaoi, there as the Archigos’ representative. The Firenzcian delegation was Sergei, A’Hirzg Allesandra, and Starkkapitan ca’Damont, accompanied by the required array of chevarittai and attendants. Since neither the Kraljica nor Archigos Kenne were present, the Hirzg and Archigos Semini, at Sergei’s suggestion, remained behind. Neither one of them had been pleased with the arrangement.
“Matarh, I should be there,” Jan had insisted. “I am the Hirzg and whatever happens there should be, must be my decision.” He had glared at Sergei, at his matarh.
“So it will be, Hirzg,” Sergei told the young man. “I promise you that. But for you to be there…” He shook his head. “You are the Hirzg, as you said. There is no peer in that tent for you; there is no peer in the tent for the Archigos either. You, Hirzg Jan, can’t be expected to parley on equal terms with Odil ca’Mazzak, who is just a member of the Council of Ca’-you would be lowering yourself to do so. I can tell you that it’s exactly what they want you to do. It would be an admission that the Hirzg of the Coalition is someone who is lesser than the Kraljica of the Holdings.”
He had looked to Allesandra and the glowering Archigos then. “You asked me to give you my knowledge, to help you. That is what I’m doing here. Appearances matter. They matter a great deal. They especially matter to those in the Kraljica’s Palais.”
In the end, with Allesandra’s support, he had won the argument. Jan, at least, had been somewhat gracious about it. The Archigos had stalked off angrily, and they had heard him complaining throughout the encampment for the next few turns of the glass.
As the Firenzcian contingent dismounted and servants took their weapons and horses and offered refreshments, the Nessanticans came forward. Sergei clasped cu’Ulcai’s arm warmly, smiling at his longtime offizier. “Aubri,” he said, “I wish we could have met again under better circumstances. I heard what happened with poor Aris…” He clasped the man on the shoulder and gave the sign of Cenzi to U’Teni cu’Magnaoi. “Petros, it’s good to see you also. How is Archigos Kenne?”
“He is well, sir, and sends his blessing to you,” the older man answered.
Sergei leaned close to the man as he hugged him. “Has Kenne received my messages?” he whispered into the older man’s ear. “Does he agree?” Sergei felt Petros’ faint nod. He also saw the appraising glances of both the delegations on him as he greeted the two men: Allesandra as well as Odil ca’Mazzak. They were both suspicious; they both had a right to be. Sergei nodded to ca’Mazzak and took his seat to the left of Allesandra.
Ca’Mazzak gestured, and pages came forward to give Allesandra, Sergei, and the starkkapitan scrolls of heavy parchment. “This is the offer of Kraljica Sigourney,” ca’Mazzak said as they scanned the words there. “Your army will be permitted to return to Firenzcia. The outlaw Sergei Rudka will be handed over to us. Reparations will be paid by Brezno to the Holdings for the destruction of crops and livestock by their army, and for the violation of the Treaty of Passe a’Fiume. If you find the terms acceptable, all that is required is the signature of the A’Hirzg as the representative of the Coalition.”
It was no more than Sergei had expected. He’d witnessed Holdings arrogance and hubris too many times before.
Starkkapitan ca’Damont gave a snicker through his nose, tossing the parchment on the table. “And how does the Kraljica intend to enforce this, Councillor?” he asked. “With the few battalions you’ve given Commandant cu’Ulcai? I’ve nothing but respect for the commandant, who is a fine offizier, but one doesn’t fight off an angry bear by threatening him with a twig.” He seemed to realize then that he’d spoken out of turn. His face reddened slightly. “My pardons, A’Hirzg. I’m a simple offizier, but these demands… ” He swept the parchment from the table to the floor; a page scurried over to pick up the scroll but didn’t return it to him.
“The Garde Civile and the chevarittai of the Holdings are not a twig, Starkkapitan,” ca’Mazzak blustered. He had puffed up like a toad, sitting erect in his chair, the wattles on his thick neck shivering. “You underestimate our ability to quickly field an army when our lands are threatened. It’s a lesson the last Hirzg Jan learned; I’m surprised that anyone from Firenzcia feels the lesson needs to be taught a second time.”
Allesandra appeared to be still reading the proposal, though Sergei could see her listening carefully to the exchange. She set the paper down in front of her and folded her hands over it. “All right,” she said. “Let’s forgo the posturing, Councillor ca’Mazzak. We all know that Nessantico is dealing with a threat to the west. We know what happened to Karnor; we’re hearing rumors that Villembouchure may have suffered the same fate-perhaps Commandant cu’Ulcai could enlighten us on that, since I expect he was there when the Holdings forces were routed? Everyone at this table knows that you haven’t sufficient forces to challenge us here. So what is it that the Kraljica really offers?”
Sergei had suggested this direct tack to Allesandra, but the stab at Aubri cu’Ulcai had been the A’Hirzg’s own contribution. The look on Aubri’s’ face was enough to confirm that her guess had been correct, and Sergei felt an upwelling of sympathy for his friend.
Ca’Mazzak looked as if he’d swallowed unripened fruit. He glanced at Petros, who seemed to be examining the fields past the edge of the tent, then at Aubri. “The Kraljica is prepared to offer a compromise,” he said finally. “Let the Hirzg and A’Hirzg return to Brezno with their Garde Brezno. However, Starkkapitan ca’Damont and the remainder of the army will remain behind to aid in the defense of Nessantico against the Westlanders, for which the treasury of Nessantico is willing to bear the expenses. As for the former Regent…” Ca’Mazzak glared at Sergei. “Kraljica Sigourney still demands his return to face the charges against him, no matter what agreement we reach here.”