Jan interrupted the man with a snarl. “Come here a moment, Archigos-I need to show you something.”
Ca’Cellibrecca walked across the room toward him; Jan stepped aside to let him stand before the window, his nose wrinkling at the smell of incense clinging to the man’s robes. “What is it you want me to see?”
ca’Cellibrecca asked, and Jan caught the man’s green robes in his fists and pushed him forward hard. Ca’Cellibrecca squalled in fright but his hands flailed only at cold air. Jan could see shards of glass digging into the rolls of the man’s waist. Overbalanced, ca’Cellibrecca was heavier than Jan had expected; he had to brace himself to keep from losing his grip entirely.
“Can you fly, Archigos?” Jan asked as the man shouted in alarm.
“Can Cenzi give you wings like a bird?”
“My Hirzg. . Pull me back up!”
“Shut up,” Jan told him. “You look more like a cow than a bird to me, Archigos. That’s what you are, Archigos: a cow. As long as you give me the milk of Cenzi, I will keep you. If you can’t be my cow, then I have U’Teni cu’Kohnle to serve as such. Frankly, I don’t really care which one of you it is as long as you give me what I want from you. I don’t need you to be a bird and tell me about bird matters unless you can demonstrate to me how well you fly. I already have a starkkapitan, but maybe you think you’re a better strategist, eh? We can find out now.
So tell me, Archigos, because my arms are tired and I can’t hold you for much longer: are you a cow, or are you a bird?”
He shook the man and heard the sound of cloth ripping. Ca’Cellibrecca screamed. “I’m a cow! A cow!” Jan could see his arms flailing. People were looking up from the ground and pointing to the Archigos.
“Louder,” he called to the Archigos, shaking him again. “I can’t hear you. They can’t hear you.”
“I’m a cow!” the man screamed. He could hear the bellowing reverberate in the streets below. “I am a cow, my Hirzg!”
“Moo for me then, Cow,” Jan said. “Let us hear you moo.”
Ca’Cellibrecca gulped. He mooed, a plaintive wail sounding over and over again, as if he were one of the wind-horns of the temple. Jan could hear laughter in the streets below.
“That will do,” Jan said, and pulled the man back up. The Archigos’
hair was disheveled and blood stained his robes where the glass had sliced through the cloth into the flesh underneath. “I would advise you to attend to your cow matters, Archigos. We will be leaving Passe a’Fiume in the morning.”
Mahri
The leather pouch on his belt felt heavy against Mahri’s thigh, a glass ball the size of a child’s fist nestled within it. Placing the X’in Ka inside the ball had cost him an entire night’s sleep, but doubts still plagued him.
The signs aren’t clear enough. They never are when they concern her. .
The wind-horns on the Temple of Cenzi sounded, echoed by the horns on all the temples as well as the bells of the Kraljiki’s Palais.
With the clamor, the new Archigos appeared in the traditional middle tower window to wave to the throngs of the faithful. . though the throngs were far fewer than those which usually greeted a new Archigos. Nessantico’s population had been decimated: most men were away with the army swelling beyond the eastern gates, and many citizens had decided that visiting relatives in towns to the west would be an excellent idea. The temple square was full and cheers rose toward the new Archigos, but the crowd didn’t overflow out into the Avi
a’Parete, the cheers were less than deafening and more rehearsed than authentic. The heralds had already announced that, due to the current crisis, Archigos Ana the First would forgo the traditional procession around the city; after a few minutes and a blessing called out over the onlookers in a thin, nervous voice, the crowd dispersed quickly except for the ca’-and-cu’ who filed into the Archigos’ Temple to witness Ana’s initial service.
As the citizenry walked away toward home and businesses, the air was alive with gossip, and Mahri caught snatches of it as they passed him.
“. . told me that she’s already agreed to marry the Kraljiki. She might as well be one of the grandes horizontals . .”
“. . seems that when the Kraljiki’s wishes aren’t followed he’ll just create his own Concenzcia. .”
“. . that the Numetodo will be welcome in the city. From what I hear, ci’Vliomani’s title of envoy has been restored. .”
Mahri smiled grimly. He touched the glass ball once more and wrapped his cloak around him. Sheltered against one of the buildings across the square, he invoked a quick spell, and the air shimmered around him as if he were enclosed in water. He walked across the courtyard and into the temple, knowing that casual eyes would only see a heat-shimmer if they glanced at him. Inside the temple, he found a dark niche to one side of the nave. There, he settled in to watch as Ana and a retinue of a’ and u’teni went through the rituals of the High Worship.
He listened to Ana’s fledgling Admonition from the High Lectern. Her Admonition was largely a tribute to Archigos Dhosti’s memory and a plea for tolerance.
“. . remember that Archigos Dhosti realized that there are more things in the world than we can imagine, and that even Nessantico must change. With Kraljica Marguerite, we were lulled by peace for too long a time, and we woke to find that there were movements afoot that we had not seen because we didn’t want to see them. We were afraid. We can no longer be afraid; we can no longer close our eyes and pretend that all is as we wish it to be. We must embrace those who can help us, because without their help, we cannot survive. My. .” Mahri heard the pause, saw the almost-amused grimace that accompanied the hesitation. “. . predecessor as Archigos had a fondness for quoting the Divolonte. I tell you that I hold those laws in no less regard than he.
Let me quote: ‘As child grows to adult, so must the Divolonte grow.’ We have no choice but to accept such change now. The Concenzia Faith
is emerging from a long, quiet childhood; from the sheltering arms of its parents into a world that is dangerous and uncomfortable. We are Nessantico. We are the Holdings, and we are great and we are vast, but there are those who would destroy our greatness with their petty, narrow concerns. I tell you this: to contend with the rest of the world, we must also be willing to learn from it.”
There was silence in the temple when she finished speaking, then came a susurrus of whispers among the ca’-and-cu’ gathered there. He saw them lean toward each other with faces grim and frowning; he could see the mouthed word “Numetodo” on their lips even if he could not hear it. If Ana had hoped to convince the ca’-and-cu’, she’d not succeeded, not if their posture was any indication. Even the Kraljiki, in attendance in the royal alcove to the left of the High Lectern, seemed uncomfortable with her words, and none of the a’teni on the dais with her were smiling. Karl was in attendance also, in a rear alcove of the temple with people who Mahri knew to be among the remaining local Numetodo. They were also grim, watching the reaction.
The rest of the service went quickly. When Ana gave the Blessing of Cenzi to the attendants, they left the temple quickly while Ana and the a’teni went to the vestry at the rear of the building.
Mahri, in his niche, sighed and closed his eyes. His hand touched the glass ball in its pouch. She would want this now. He knew it. He hurried toward the vestry, stopping in the shadows at the edge of the nave. Several of the e’ and o’teni attendants waited there for their superiors to emerge, talking softly among themselves. Ana and the other a’teni of the Conclave were inside the closed doors.