Alongside Jan, the Hirzgin stirred. “This is not something our daughter needs to see, my Hirzg,” Greta said. One hand rubbed the welling arc of her belly. The Hirzg and Hirzgin, accompanied by several members of the court, stood on a viewing platform erected just outside the tent-palace. Starkkapitan Ahren Ca’Staunton, commander of the Firenzcian army, and U’Teni Semini cu’Kohnle, head of the war-teni, were at Jan’s left hand. Mara stood discreetly to his right on the other side of Greta, just slightly behind the Hirzgin so that she could make eye contact with Jan without Greta noticing, though Jan was certain that their occasional exchanges of smiles didn’t escape the rest of the court.
Below them, in the meadow lined by the army’s tent-city, a soldier, stripped to the waist with his back and chest displaying the bloodied stripes of a flogging, was bound with his arms behind him to a large post. A line of six archers had been placed facing him, an o’offizier to their side; the remainder of the troops stood in silent ranks around the meadow. Markell stood near the post, overseeing the proceedings.
Allesandra’s maidservant Naniaj started forward to take the girl away, but Jan shook his head and raised a finger. The woman stopped in mid-step.
“She’s only eleven. She’s too young,” the Hirzgin insisted again, making Jan scowl. Everything Greta said made him frown. Just the sound of her thin voice or the sight of her plain, long face with its forward-canted ca’Ludovici jaw or the prominent reminder of her fecundity was enough to make him grind his teeth. She knew her duty as wife, and performed it as if it were exactly that-and no more often than she must. The lack of regular intimacy between them hardly bothered Jan, nor did it prevent him from seeking that intimacy elsewhere, as a few bastard children scattered around Firenzcia testified. Perhaps Mara might end up producing another, if the midwife’s potions failed to work. “Please, my Hirzg, let Naniaj take her inside. .”
“Vatarh, if I’m to lead the army one day as Hirzgin, then I need to understand this,” Allesandra pleaded. Jan laughed, a roar of delight and amusement that spread out from him to Mara, to the Starkkapitan and U’Teni cu’Kohnle, then to the other courtiers like the ripples from a stone dropped in a pond. He stroked her hair, pressing her to his side possessively. Only the Hirzgin was frowning. Mara’s gaze twinkled at him over Greta’s shoulder as the Hirzgin glared at him.
“You see, wife,” he said. “The child knows what she must learn. She stays.”
“Hirzg. .” Greta began, but Jan glanced at her sharply.
“I said she will stay,” he repeated, the words sharp and cutting this time. “If you don’t care to witness this yourself in your condition, Hirzgin, it would frankly please us very much if you removed yourself.”
Greta’s mouth closed at that, her teeth clacking together as she turned away from him and waddled away from the platform. Mara gave the barest of nods to Jan, and then moved to follow the Hirzgin with the rest of her whispering, reluctant entourage. He heard Allesandra chuckle once, softly.
Below, the man was firmly lashed to the post, and Markell and the o’offizier with him stepped well back. Markell gestured; the archers placed arrows to bowstrings and drew them back with a creaking of
leather and wood. The bound man moaned. “What did he do, Vatarh?”
Allesandra asked.
“He’s a Numetodo,” Jan told her. “And he was stupidly vocal about his beliefs. Belief in Cenzi and the rewards that await the brave when they die are what sustains our troops, my darling. Without their faith, they will have no hope, and this fool tried to take that away from them with his words. I want them all to see what happens to those without faith.” At Jan’s left side, U’Teni cu’Kohnle nodded sternly in agreement with his words.
“Why are there six archers there, Vatarh? Wouldn’t just one be able to kill him?”
“All six will let loose their arrows at the starkkapitan’s command,”
Jan told her patiently. “That way, each of the archers can believe that it wasn’t their arrow that took the life of a fellow soldier. It helps them-
it’s difficult for a soldier to kill one of their own, even when that person has betrayed them and his oaths.”
Allesandra nodded solemnly at that. “I understand, Vatarh.”
“Hirzg, we’re ready,” Markell called up to Jan.
“Excellent,” Jan said. He stepped forward with Allesandra. He raised his voice, speaking loudly so that the bound man could hear him.
“Would you pray now?” he asked the man, whose head was turned up toward them. His pupils were large, frightened and bloodshot. Blood drooled from his mouth and nostrils. “Would you plead for Cenzi to save you? Would you ask that His hand move through mine?”
The man’s thick tongue slid over bruised lips. Sudden hope filled those desperate eyes. “Yes,” he managed to say, the voice barely audible.
“I do pray, Hirzg. I’m. . so sorry. I was wrong. . I renounce it all. .”
“What do you think, Allesandra?” Jan asked his daughter, who was
pressed to the railing of the platform, standing on tiptoes so that she could look down over the top. She looked up at him.
“I think a person in his position would say whatever they need to say to save themselves, Vatarh,” she answered.
Jan laughed again. “Indeed. They most certainly would.” He called
out to the court, to the soldiers watching. “Did you hear that?” he proclaimed. “Wisdom comes from the young.” He waved to the starkkapitan. “You may proceed, Starkkapitan ca’Staunton,” he said.
The Numetodo moaned and shrieked. He cursed and thrashed uselessly against the ropes holding him. Starkkapitan ca’Staunton gave the sign of Cenzi to Jan, then to U’Teni cu’Kohnle, and stepped forward.
He lifted his arm and the sextet of archers pulled their bows back to full draw, the leather-wrapped wood creaking ominously. His hand dropped as the Numetodo screamed and the bows sang. The Numetodo’s scream was cut off abruptly with the solid, dull stutter of arrowheads impacting flesh.
Jan saw Allesandra stare as the man slumped against the post, six arrows piercing his body, blood running down from the new wounds
to join that of the crusted old ones from his flogging. She stared at the patterns of the blood, at the rounded ball of the man’s head. The man’s mouth yawned open.
The offiziers barked orders to the troops and they began to file away.
Several men hurried forward to cut the executed man down and take away the body. Markell spoke briefly to the group of archers, clapping each of them on the back.
U’Teni cu’Kohnle nodded silently, as if the death of the Numetodo had particularly pleased him.
“I think, Vatarh,” Allesandra said very quietly, as the courtiers chattered excitedly around and behind Jan, “that all the soldiers and the court will remember this very well. I know I will.” He looked down at her, and the expression on her face was what he’d hoped to see. There was a pleased contemplation there, her head nodding faintly as if in satisfaction at a well-accomplished task. “I don’t think they will listen to the Numetodo anymore, Vatarh. They’ll only listen to you. . and to A’Teni Orlandi, too.”
He snorted at that, and U’Teni cu’Kohnle glanced over to them before he went to join Starkkapitan ca’Staunton. Jan had not let his daughter witness A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca’s reprisals against the Numetodo in Brezno, but she’d known about them, peppering him and the others with insistent questions. And, like the rest of them, she had seen the bodies gibbeted on the walls afterward; there had been no way to prevent that. “Yes. I think it will have that effect.”
“When A’Teni Orlandi is Archigos, will you divorce Matarh?”
“You wouldn’t want me to take your matarh away from you, would you?”
Allesandra seemed to ignore the question. Her gaze left him, looking down once again at the soldiers disposing of the mess on the grounds. The courtiers had moved politely away from the conversation, pretending that they weren’t trying to listen as they engaged in their own conversations. “I like Mara, Vatarh. She’s very nice to me, better than Matarh is, but you won’t marry her, will you, Vatarh? I think you should marry someone more important, who will help you get what you want.”
“And what would you know of Mara?” he asked her.
She gave him a look of exaggerated scorn, her mouth pursed, her
head shaking so that the soft curls around her cheeks swayed. “I’m eleven and I’m not
Jan hugged her to him, and her arms clasped around his waist. He bent down and kissed the top of her head.
