Jan stared at the blade. He’d watched the gardai search the man for weapons, had heard them declare the Regent unarmed. “I think I’ll need to have a talk with Commandant cu’Gottering about the training of his men.” He reached down to touch the hilt with a fingertip, but otherwise didn’t pick up the knife. “What else did they miss?”
Sergei only smiled. Jan put his hand on the knife and slid it back across the table to Sergei, who sheathed it again in his boot. “So, Hirzg Jan,” Sergei said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Jan wasn’t certain of that himself. The initial meeting with Sergei had left him unsettled, listening to his matarh and to Archigos ca’Cellibrecca, knowing that they’d dominated the moment. In truth, he was feeling overwhelmed by the suddenness of events: Fynn’s assassination, Elissa’s flight, the news from the Holdings, the Regent’s arrival. His vatarh had left Brezno in an angry rush; his matarh and the Archigos were suspiciously close. It was as if he were being swept along helplessly in a flood he hadn’t seen and hadn’t anticipated. He found himself feeling lost and uncertain, and he’d brooded on that for long turns of the glass, unable to lose himself in the now-forced gaiety of the party or the distractions of the young women who flirted with him or the urgent speculations that erupted all around him.
He wanted to talk to someone. He didn’t want that person to be his matarh.
Jan didn’t feel like the Hirzg. He felt like an impostor. “I want to know what I’ve gained by giving you asylum, Regent,” he said.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Sergei asked him. He pushed his chair back from the table. “Or is it that you think that someone else made that decision for you?”
He should have felt anger at that. Instead, he only brought one shoulder up and let it drop again. “Ah,” Sergei said. “I understand. So, I think, would poor Audric. Let me tell you this, Hirzg Jan: I’ve known several Kralji in my time, and despite what you might think of them, the truth is that none of them ever made an easy decision. Everything you do as Kralji-or Hirzg-affects thousands of other people, some in good ways, others adversely. Be glad that you have good advisers around you, and listen to them. It might save you from making some truly horrific decisions.” He smiled then, grimly. “And if one turns out that way despite your best intentions, well, you can always blame it on their bad advice.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
The smile broadened. “No, I haven’t, have I?” Sergei laid his hands palm up on the table. “All I have to offer you is me, Hirzg. My knowledge, my experience, my viewpoint. I happen to think that’s a potentially valuable resource for you, but then I’ll admit to being prejudiced on the subject.” The skin around the man’s false nose wrinkled, but the nose itself didn’t move-it struck Jan as disturbing. It made him uneasy, but he found it hard to move his gaze away from Sergei’s face.
“I have my matarh’s knowledge, experience, and viewpoint; I also have the Archigos’. I have that of the commandants and the other chevarittai of the Coalition.”
“You do,” Sergei answered. “Your matarh was a hostage in the Holdings for much of her youth. The Archigos is an avowed opponent of the Nessantican branch of the Faith. The commandants and chevarittai are also opponents of the Holdings. None of them know the Holdings, and they all have reason to hate it. Hatred can be blinding sometimes. As for me, well, the welfare of the Holdings has been my life.”
“Which is another reason to distrust you.”
“Then let that be my first piece of advice to you, Hirzg Jan. You should distrust me. A Hirzg should be skeptical of all the advice he’s given-because everyone’s advice is painted with the colors of their agenda, mine no less than anyone’s. But… I’m an old swordsman, Hirzg, and I’d tell you it’s easier to defeat an enemy whose moves you know and can anticipate than one you don’t know at all.” Sergei sat back in his chair. “I know the Holding’s moves. I know them all. You need me.”
“You sound so certain.”
“I know my enemy, Hirzg. If I didn’t, would I have given you my knife?” He reached down and tapped his boot. “Everyone takes risks, Hirzg. The trick is to be confident of the outcome.”
“What if I’d kept the knife?” Jan asked him.
Sergei gave a short chuckle. “Then I’d have pretended that that was what I’d expected. Do you still like your choice, Hirzg?”
Jan smiled, his lips pressed together. “It was what I expected, Regent,” he said. “And that will have to do, won’t it?”
Audric ca’Dakwi
The O’Teni kneeling next to Audric’s bed opened her eyes, her face drawn and weary, and glanced over at Archigos Kenne. “I’ve finished my…” She hesitated, and Audric saw her gaze flick past the Archigos to Councillor Sigourney ca’Ludovici, standing by the fireplace and gazing at the portrait of Kraljica Marguerite, sitting alongside the fire on its portable easel. Above the hearth, Audric could see the discolored rectangle where the portait had hung for so long. In the dim recesses of the room, Marlon and Seaton lurked, waiting to scurry forward if needed.
“… prayers,” the o’teni concluded.
The Archigos had told Audric that this woman teni came from the temple at Chiari and was someone whose “prayers had a special affinity for those who are sick.” That may have been true; he certainly felt somewhat better now, his lungs moving less painfully. The insistent cough had receded, though he could still feel some tightness in his chest-perhaps Cenzi had indeed blessed him tonight. The improvement wasn’t as marked as when Archigos Ana had performed her “prayers” for him, but it would do. He hoped it would last as long as Archigos Ana’s ministrations had.
“Thank you, O’Teni,” the Archigos was saying, giving the woman the sign of Cenzi. “We appreciate your efforts. You may return to the temple now. Tell U’Teni cu’Magnaoi that I will be along soon, if you would.”
She nodded and rose shakily to her feet, as if she been kneeling too long and her legs had gone to sleep. As Audric watched, she pressed hands to forehead to each of them and shuffled carefully to the door of the bedchamber, Marlon hurrying to open it for her. “Strange,” Sigourney remarked without turning from the painting, “ I’ve never been so exhausted from simply praying.”
Audric saw Kenne’s craggy face tighten in the candlelight at the un-subtle accusation. The Archigos otherwise ignored the comment. “Are you feeling better, Kraljiki?” he asked.
Audric’s great-matarh stared at him concernedly over ca’Ludovici’s shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with me,” he told the Archigos, and saw his great-matarh’s face nod just on the edge of perception. Don’t let them know how you truly feel, not when they might think it weakness. “I know that,” he told her, then turned back to the Archigos. “I’m feeling quite well,” he told the man, and Kenne looked almost comically relieved. “Now, you said you had a favor to ask, Archigos.”
“I did, Kraljiki. I had an odd encounter this morning at the temple. There was a man, an o’offizier of the Garde Civile: Eneas cu’Kinnear. He came for Cenzi’s Blessing, and he had the sash of the Hellins over his uniform. A good-looking young man, with an earnest face. He told me that he was just back from the war.”
“Yes, yes,” Audric said impatiently, waving the man silent. The Archigos could meander on like that for a turn of the clock, relating every interminable detail of the encounter. He heard ca’Ludovici chuckle in the background. “Your point, Archigos?”
The Archigos didn’t manage to entirely hide his annoyance, but he smiled grimly and bowed his head to Audric. “O’Officer cu’Kinnear said that he had vital information for you regarding the Hellins, Kraljiki. He said that you would not have heard his news because the fast-ships wouldn’t have come. I’ve checked, and that’s the case. I also had my staff investigate this cu’Kinnear, and they found that Commandant ca’Sibelli-” with that, the Archigos nodded in the direction of Sigourney, “-recommended him to be named Chevaritt, and the reports on the man are unanimous in their high opinion of him as a person of faith and as an offizier. In fact, I’ve discovered that he’d once been considered as an acolyte candidate, showing signs of the Gift-”