The Archigos’ hand lifted from her knee. She pulled back quickly; she saw the Archigos’ lips tighten as his hand dropped back to his side.
His ancient lips parted softly and he sighed.
“Ah. So that’s the way it was. I wondered, when I saw how your vatarh was with you. I’m sorry.”
Ana felt the heat of embarrassment on her face. “Archigos. .”
He shook his head. “No. Say nothing. We all have demons in the night that we must struggle with. I have mine, too. I didn’t intend to make you think that I. .” His hand brushed hers, but he shook his head and brought his hand back. He took a breath and stepped away from her. “You’ll have to trust me, Ana, because in the days to come you’ll have to choose sides,” he said. His voice was carefully neutral.
“In the trials that I suspect are on us, those with strength and influence must take their stand. I hope you can choose wisely.” Then the smile came again, and all the reserve was gone from his voice. “As I chose you. Ana, I have been asleep. Since. . I don’t know when, but for years now. While I’ve been sleeping, those who don’t think of Conce-
nzia as I do have risen, slow step by slow step, until I find they are all around me. A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca, yes, but he has several allies among the a’teni. A few months ago, I think I awoke again. . ”
He took a breath. Ana remained silent, sitting motionless, not knowing what to say or how to react. She felt lost, as if she’d wandered away from everything familiar to her in the world. The Archigos went to the hearth and held his hands out, warming them. Without a word, Beida came in with an overcloak and helped the Archigos put
it on; Ana realized she must have been watching and listening the whole time. Shrugging the cloak around his shoulders, the Archigos turned and smiled back at Ana. “You should rest and finish recovering, O’Teni,” he said. “I’ll send someone to fetch you just before Second Call; you’ll walk in the procession today with the rest of my staff. After the blessing at Old Temple, you and I will go to see the Kraljica. She sent word that she would like to meet you. Beida, if you’ll be so kind as to show me out. .”
With that, he left. As the door closed behind him, Ana touched the hand the Archigos had touched. Her own fingers felt cold on her skin.
Karl ci’Vliomani
The last notes of First Call drifted away. Karl watched ca’Rudka lift his head and rise from his bended knee, his clasped hands dropping from his forehead. “No prayer at all, Envoy ci’Vliomani?”
ca’Rudka asked. Karl thought the man’s smile seemed more a mocking leer, and the gleaming metallic nose was impossible to ignore. “I thought the Numetodo were still believers in
“We do believe, Commandant,” Karl answered. “We believe in logic, in proofs that we can see and touch and feel. We believe that if the gods do exist, then the way to understand them is through the abilities they’ve given us: reason and logic. What better way to worship them than to use all the qualities we have?”
“ ‘
The response to Karl’s request to meet with the Kraljica had come not long after the Lighting of the Avi: not from the Kraljica herself, but from her aide Renard cu’Bellona. The Kraljica would regrettably be unable to meet with Envoy ci’Vliomani, but Commandant ca’Rudka would be available to address his concerns. It was, honestly, more than Karl had expected. He’d arrived at the Grande Palais before First Call, as the note had requested, and been ushered into one of the lower reception rooms in the East Wing, where tea and breakfast had been laid out on a small table with two servants standing patiently behind it, and where Commandant ca’Rudka entered a few marks of the glass later, just as the wind-horns announced First Call.
Ca’Rudka went to the table. One of the several attendants hovering around the edges of the room poured the commandant’s tea, stirring a bit of honey into the fragrant brew. He took one of the pastries and bit into it, seeming to savor the taste with closed eyes before taking a sip of the tea. “Something for you, Envoy? The pastry chef the Kraljica retains is truly excellent. You really must have one of the tarts. Here. .”
He pointed to the tarts, and another attendant quickly placed one on a plate.
Ca’Rudka passed Karl the small plate with the inlaid Kraljica’s crest obscured by the pastry. “We’ll eat on the patio,” ca’Rudka told the servants. “Bring the envoy his tea, give us an assortment of the pastries, and leave us.”
As the servants scurried about the table, ca’Rudka escorted Karl from the room out to a raised stone patio that emptied into the palace’s formal gardens. Several workers moved through the grounds, trimming the bushes and pruning the flowers. “Take a seat, please, Envoy,”
ca’Rudka said, gesturing to two chairs facing the garden with a small, cloisonne-topped table placed between them. Karl sat; the commandant took the other chair; the servants came in with tea and pastries, and vanished again. “I enjoy watching the gardens this time of day,” ca’Rudka said.
“They’re quite beautiful, I would agree, Commandant.”
“Indeed. But what I enjoy seeing are the gardeners at their work.
You see, Envoy, all the order and loveliness you see there in front of you has a cost. Did you know that the Kraljica employs over a hundred workers for the palais grounds alone, just here on the Isle? If you take into account all the rest of the property she owns, her chateaux and houses throughout the Holdings, then there are a thousand and more.
They maintain the beauty you and I see, and to do that, they must ruthlessly rid the garden of anything that is rotting or diseased, or that threatens the setting.”
Karl allowed himself a small smile, glancing at the commandant, who was looking not at the garden but at Karl. The commandant’s eyes flicked over the stone-shell necklace around his neck, then back up to his face. “So you see yourself as a simple grounds worker, Commandant?” Karl asked him. “And we Numetodo are weeds threatening the flower of Nessantico? I suppose you believe that A’Teni ca’ Cellibrecca is but the Gardener of Brezno.”
Ca’Rudka chuckled; Karl found the sound to be sinister. “I knew my crude analogy wouldn’t escape you, Envoy. Yes, in fact, I do sometimes think of myself as in charge of the garden that is this city, as the Kraljica is in charge of the much greater garden that is the Holdings, as the a’teni and the Archigos are responsible for the flowering of the faithful.
As to the Numetodo. .” Ca’Rudka set his tea down on the stand; the cup chattered on the plate. “You’re the Envoy. You’re the one sent here to speak to the Kraljica on their behalf.”
“Commandant, the attack on the Archigos yesterday was not part of some Numetodo plot. It was the act of a single madman, who unfortunately does seem to have had Numetodo connections but whom I’ve never personally met. My credentials from the government of the Isle of Paeti. .”
Ca’Rudka waved him silent. “Your credentials are in order. I know; I checked them myself, months ago. If they weren’t, we wouldn’t be talking; well, at least not in this manner.” He rose from his chair and Karl stood with him. “Come, Envoy, let’s walk while we discuss this.”
He led Karl from the patio into the gardens. As they strolled the graveled walkways, the commandant pointed out some of the blooms
and arrangements. The commandant seemed to have a wide knowledge of horticulture, certainly more than Karl, who could name only the most common of the flowers here in Nessantico. The conversation, to Karl’s frustration, never seemed to come back to the Numetodo and the attempted assassination of the Archigos, but he forced himself to patience. Ca’Rudka, Karl had learned in his few months here, was-like the Kraljica herself-a person who did things in his own time. Like a handsome but dangerous beast of prey, he had to be watched carefully. They’d been walking for some time when ca’Rudka stopped. He crouched down near the path’s manicured edge. He pointed to a small plant there, its saw-toothed and purplish leaves just overhanging the edge of the walkway. “Weed or flower?” he asked Karl.
“I don’t know, Commandant.”
“It’s difficult to tell, isn’t it? Right now there’s no sign of a bloom, yet it could burst into triumphant color a
