“Talis?” Niente said. “Is that you?” The face-he looked years older than he should, his face as ravaged by Axat’s power as Niente’s was, but Niente remembered the youth in the man’s face.
“Niente?” Talis hurried forward and grasped Niente’s forearm, his eyes searching Niente’s face, no doubt as changed as his own. “By Axat, it’s been a long, long time. You’re the Nahual? Good. Good for you…” He saw Tecuhtli Zolin then and half-turned, bowing his head to Zolin. “Tecuhtli. I see that Necalli has fallen.”
Niente was still looking at Talis. There was pain in the man’s eyes that wasn’t of the X’in Ka. “Are you hurt?” he asked, and Talis shook his head.
“No, it’s…” He stopped, and Niente saw worry and sadness collapse in on the man. “I… I have a wife here, and a son. She’s
… been terribly injured. I need to get back to them…”
“We’ve taken her and the boy to the healing tent, Tecuhtli, Nahual,” Citlali broke in. “They’re doing what they can.”
“Good,” Zolin said. “And you may go to them in a moment, Talis. So you are the one the previous Nahual sent here? I know he told Tecuhtli Necalli that you were nearly as strong as Mahri-that you would have been a fine Nahual.” Zolin glanced once over to Niente. “Perhaps that will end up being your fate. I’ve read your reports over the years; they’ve helped us understand and defeat the Easterners. For that, I’m grateful.”
“Tecuhtli,” Citlali said as Zolin paused, leaning back in his chair. “Talis has information you must know, about an army just to the east of the city. That is why I’ve brought him here.”
Talis nodded, and Niente listened to him with growing dread as he talked about this army of Firenzcia, and the reputation of that country’s military. Niente especially was distressed by the growing look of eagerness on Zolin’s face. “Tecuhtli,” Niente said, “this is what the scrying bowl was saying to me. We have done all that we came here to do. We should take ship now and return home before this army comes on us. We could raise a new army and come again with more ships and more warriors and nahualli the next time, and if you wish to sit on this throne as Tecuhtli of the East, we will place you here with enough resources to make that happen. But not now. We are too few-warriors and nahualli-for another great fight, especially without black sand.”
Niente thought that, finally, he had made his point. Zolin grimaced as he sat on the throne, tapping fingers on the crystalline arm. He nodded, as if thinking.
But Talis then dashed any lingering hope. “There is black sand,” Talis said. “Or rather, there are enough of the ingredients here in the city to make much of it. I know where it is.”
Zolin leaned forward on the throne, his eyes widening so that the wings of the eagle danced on his face. “Where? Take us to it now.”
“Tecuhtli, my wife… I need to go to her.”
Niente knew how Zolin would react to that; he wasn’t surprised. “We all have wives and family,” the Tecuhtli retorted. “Our duty is here and now. Citlali, how is the woman?”
Citlali lifted a shoulder. “She is in the hands of those who know best what to do. There’s nothing else that can be done.”
“There. You see, Talis?” Zolin said. “You have your answer. I’m sorry for your wife’s injuries, and I understand that you want to be with her. But your Tecuhtli has need of you also. Nahual Niente is correct-without more black sand, we will lose what we have gained. The black sand, nahualli, that is what is needed.” Zolin leaned forward, elbows on knees. “The wife of a traitor would receive no help at all,” he said.
Niente heard the next words as if they were the ringing of death chimes. “As you wish, Tecuhtli,” Talis told him. “I will take you there.”
“Good,” Zolin said, standing. “Citlali, refresh yourself and get the warriors ready for more battle. Nahual Niente, you will do the same with the nahualli. In the meantime, I will speak with you, Talis, while we find this black sand.”
Sergei ca’Rudka
Sergei found it difficult to believe all that Karl and Varina told him. Sergei had seen the smoke of the fires in Nessantico and the wind had brought its scent to them and he knew that the city suffered, but this: Nessantico conquered, much of it in ruins…
He had not expected this.
There was too much he had not expected. Sergei was feeling very old and frail indeed.
“Archigos ca’Cellibrecca is here? ” Karl said, and Sergei nodded in acknowledgment. Karl’s face was hard and set, his voice clipped and grim. “Then take me to him, Sergei. Let that be the payment for releasing you from the Bastida. Just take me to him and walk away. You don’t need to be involved in the rest.”
“It’s not that simple, Karl,” he said.
“Actually, it is that simple,” Karl retorted. “The man killed Ana, and I want justice for her murder.”
“I can’t give you that,” Sergei told them. “Not here, and not now. But I can tell you that Hirzg Jan has no great affection for the man. I think that the same can be said of A’Hirzg Allesandra-at least for the moment. Karl, let me deal with this. Please.” Sergei looked at Varina for support; she leaned close to Karl.
“Listen to him,” she said. “Or listen to Ana-what would she tell you?”
The trio were in Sergei’s tent in the Firenzcian encampment, where the two had been brought by the first soldiers they’d encountered. Sergei had been amazed and pleased to see the two Numetodo; after their separation, he’d been afraid that they’d been caught and imprisoned, or worse. If their tale had caused him distress, it was the thought of Nessantico laying ruined that was too painful to imagine.
He also knew that the Hirzg and A’Hirzg, at the very least, would also have been informed of their arrival; he was somewhat surprised he hadn’t yet heard from either of them. And when Archigos Semini learned that the Ambassador of the Numetodo was in the encampment… He needed to prepare against that. Allesandra and Jan were another issue; he wasn’t quite certain how they would respond. He’d do his best to protect Karl and Varina, but…
“Karl,” he said. “I promise you this: when the time comes, I will help you with ca’Cellibrecca. The man is a blight and an insult to the robes Archigos Ana wore. We both agree on that. When the time comes, I will gladly help you make his death as painful as you like.” Sergei almost smiled, thinking of Semini ensconced in the Bastida. Yes, that would be delightful. That would be… enjoyable.
Varina’s eyes widened somewhat at the statement, but Karl, tight-lipped, nodded. There was a discreet clearing of a throat at the tent flap a moment later. “Enter,” Sergei said, and the flap opened to reveal one of the Hirzg’s pages. “Regent, Hirzg Jan requests that you bring your two guests-” the boy’s eyes flicked across to Karl and Varina, “-to his tent. He’s set a supper for them and wishes to hear what they have to say.”
“Tell the Hirzg that we’ll be there directly,” Sergei told the page, who bowed deeply and withdrew. “You’ve nothing to fear from Hirzg Jan,” he told the two. He hoped that was the truth. “I rather like the young man. In some ways, he reminds me of myself…”
“Archigos Semini will counsel me that the Numetodo are heretics and liars, and dangerous to me physically as well as to my eternal soul,” Hirzg Jan said.
“Archigos Semini is a liar and a fool, and an ass besides,” Sergei answered. “If I may be forgiven my bluntness, Hirzg.”
Jan grinned. “Sit,” he said to Karl and Varina, gesturing to the table where bread and cheese and a pot of meat stew sat. Plates of dull pewter were set before them. “Enjoy the little comforts we have here in the field, since I can’t give you the full hospitality of Firenzcia.” When they hesitated, Jan’s smile broadened. “I assure you that I share the opinion of the Regent when it comes to Archigos Semini.”