“The commandant always performs his duty.” Kraljiki Justi’s highpitched voice was loud as he entered the bedroom and strode quickly to Sergei’s bedside. Reluctantly, Sergei looked away from Ana to Justi.
“As you did your duty in Passe a’Fiume,” Justi finished. His bearded face seemed inordinately pleased. “I’ve just met with ca’Montmorte. He told me what happened there. We’re as ready here as we can be, and you have our gratitude for that, Commandant.” He glanced across the bed to Ana. “And we’re grateful for your. . prayers for the commandant, Archigos. It seems Cenzi has listened to your entreaties.”
Ana sniffed audibly. “I healed the man, Kraljiki. I healed him with the Ilmodo-just as I tried to heal your matarh but failed because I was weak then and too afraid. If that is against the Divolonte, then I will direct the Concord A’Teni to change the Divolonte, because I won’t be silent and I won’t lie. Not any longer.”
The Kraljiki’s chin seemed to thrust out even further, and his thin mustache was an arc over his scowl. “The Archigos is tired. She should rest.”
“The Archigos isn’t the Kraljiki’s lap dog to be ordered around,” Ana answered. Her fingers were laced with those of the envoy. “You chose me, Kraljiki Justi; now you live with your choice. Unless you prefer the Archigos who is out there.” She pointed to the window, to the sun in the eastern sky. “I’m sure the Hirzg will be happy to allow him back into Nessantico.”
“Kraljiki, Archigos,” Sergei said, and that brought their attention back to him. “There are enemies enough without making new ones here.
Archigos, I am forever in your debt, and I won’t forget that; Kraljiki, I would like to see the defenses here, as soon as I can.”
“Yes,” Justi said quickly. “We need your guidance to ensure victory.”
Sergei shook his head. “Victory?” He shook his head. “I’ve fought them, Kraljiki, and I don’t see victory. Passe a’Fiume had never fallen in all of Nessantico’s history, yet the Hirzg walked through its broken gates in four days.” He grimaced, sitting up higher in the bed. “Hirzg Jan is already looking at Nessantico and considering it his,” he said. “I don’t know that we can prove him wrong.”
Jan ca’Vorl
“It’s like a jewel, Vatarh. Like something I could wear. See- there’s a necklace of lights. . ”
Jan grinned indulgently at Allesandra. From behind, he cuddled her against him, her body warm in the cool night air. Ahead of them, far down the unseen line of the Avi a’Firenzcia, the shimmering lights of the great city glittered in the night, mocking the stars that dared to peek between moon-silvered clouds. “And I will give it to you,” Jan told her. “You can wear that necklace soon, my little bird, all for your very own.”
“Don’t be silly, Vatarh. I can’t wear a whole city.” She reached out into the night and her forefinger and thumb closed, as if she could pluck the lights from the landscape. “But it is pretty. When you’re the Kraljiki, you have to make sure that the teni still light the lamps.”
“I’ll make certain that Archigos ca’Cellibrecca fulfills your request,” he answered, chuckling.
They were camped on a hilltop outside Carrefour; tomorrow, Jan knew, they would have their first contact with the defenders of Nessantico. His army was spread wide over the landscape, the crescent of a scythe about to strike the capital and remove its head from his throne.
Someone looking out from what remained of Nessantico’s old walls would see their lights glimmering in the dark, and they would not think them pretty at all. The thought pleased Jan.
“How long will it take, Vatarh?” Allesandra asked. “U’Teni cu’Kohnle said that he thinks it will take less time than Passe a’Fiume.
He said that you’ve already broken their will.”
“I don’t know, sweet one. How long do you think it will take?”
“One day,” she said. “The war-teni will start their spells. They’ll crush the soldiers and the chevarittai, and they’ll scream as they die, and we’ll all laugh at them. The rest of the chevarittai will go running like they did, then the rest of their soldiers will throw down their weapons and run away too, and this time it will be the Kraljiki who comes out from the city with the white flag.”
“All that in one day?”
Her voice was nearly a growl. “That’s what I would like-because of what they did to Georgi.”
“I wish you were right, but I think both you and U’Teni cu’Kohnle are wrong. Do you remember the kitten you had, how it fought when the dogs trapped it in the corner.”
Allesandra nodded. “I remember. It was just a tiny thing, but it clawed Whitepaw’s nose so badly that he ran away with his tail tucked, and there was blood everywhere and the healer had to sew Whitepaw’s nose back together again. And the kitten made Skitters yelp and bleed, too, before Skitters finally got it and shook it to death.” Allesandra looked at the jewel of the city set in the night landscape. “Oh,” she said.
“I understand what you mean, Vatarh,” she said. “I do.”
Karl ci’Vliomani
From the balcony of the Archigos’ residence, it was possible to believe that there was no war looming. From that vantage point, the lights of the Avi curled past the brilliantly-lit dome of the Archigos’
Temple. The breeze was cool from the northwest, ruffling the edges of the ferns in their pots, and the Nessantico herself was strangely silent.
Karl knew the calm for the chimera it was. He’d been gathering
together the Numetodo in Oldtown, and on the North Bank, where the first thrust of the Firenzcian assault would take place, there was no calm at all. From the outskirts of Oldtown, one could look out and see not only the campfires of the Garde Civile, but the more distant fires of the Hirzg’s army. There, the citizens were panicked, and it showed.
Twice during the day, Karl had witnessed riots in the main streets, both violently put down by the Garde Kralji, as the citizenry stormed butcher shops and bakeries looking for food (and conveniently broke into any adjacent taverns as well). Heads were broken, the cobblestones grew slick with blood, and the mood turned uglier as the sun itself retreated to the west.
A constant stream of people and carts flooded the Avi a’Parete: soldiers, Garde Civile, various chevarittai and the occasional war-teni all heading east, and everyone else moving west. From what Karl had been told, both the Avi a’Nostrosei and Avi a’Certendi, as well as the Avi A’Sele, were packed with refugees from the city, carrying as much of their belongings as they could.
Only here, on the South Bank, did the city seem to retain any semblance of normalcy, and even that was the thinnest of veneers. Underneath the calm surface, there was a boiling, nervous energy.
Karl stood beside Ana as they both leaned on the balcony railing.
He could feel her warmth against his side, but though he longed to do more, he did not. The ghost of Kaitlin stood between them as they stared out into the night. “I wish you would leave the city, Ana,” he said.
“And I wish the same of you,” she answered. “And you know neither of us can do that.”
“Everything will change in the next few days. Six months ago, I would have left the city and not cared at all who lived or died here. Now it scares me, Ana-because of you. Because of us.”
She gave a barely perceptible nod. She didn’t answer otherwise, didn’t move.
“There hasn’t been enough time for your war-teni to learn enough. We can hope they’ll be able to employ the Ilmodo a little faster than before. That’s all.”
“If they don’t fail in their spells entirely, the way I did,” Ana said.
He felt her shiver. “I worry about that, too. This has shaken their faith. What good does speed do if they’re no longer effective? I wonder if I’ve actually harmed the city’s defenses rather than helped them.”
“They have you as an example, and the Numetodo in the city will be there to help,” he answered. “We’ll do what we can to shield the warteni, and they can always use the Ilmodo as they did before. Ana, stay with me tonight. .” he began, but she turned to him and the look on her face stopped his words.