A Magic of Twilight

The Archigos began the prayer of the dead as Renard sobbed, and the servants fled the room. Ana sobbed with him, and wondered whether she was weeping for the Kraljica or because Cenzi had snatched her away from Ana, as if in punishment.

Before the Archigos had finished his prayer, the wind-horns in the temples began to call throughout the city.

Orlandi ca’Cellibrecca

Orlandi felt physically ill, as he had since he’d deciphered the message from the Hirzg. The ground trembles under the feet of soldiers, the Hirzg would have a new wife, and the Kraljica will submit. The time has come. Choose.

Everything had gone utterly wrong since the Gschnas. Orlandi had anticipated playing the Hirzg against the A’Kralj for several months yet, time in which he could gauge which one would ultimately make the best ally. But now. . the Hirzg, ever impetuous and dangerous, was forcing his hand. He’d underestimated both men and their willingness to follow a slower, more circumspect path. The Hirzg was pushing his army forward in blatant threat, and if Francesca’s suspicion was true, then the A’Kralj had been the one responsible for the Kraljica’s death.

The A’Kralj a matricide: unfortunately, such abominations were hardly unknown in the lineage of the Kralji.

But the Kraljica was dead and the A’Kralj would be crowned Kraljiki, and Justi had already informed Orlandi that he wished Francesca as his bride. The Hirzg was as yet unaware of the Kraljica’s death, and Orlandi must be the one to tell him before the news reached him some other way, or the Hirzg would perceive that Orlandi had already made his choice. When the Hirzg received that confirmation, Orlandi was certain the Hirzg would not hesitate at all.

He would send the army forward over the border, hoping to take the Sun Throne himself.

That was the most frightening thought of all. Orlandi had thought of himself as the master, moving the pieces in the game, but the pieces had asserted their own wills.

Choose. You must choose.

The Archigos had given Orlandi an office in the Temple so that he wouldn’t need to return to Ile Verte in the wake of the Kraljica’s sudden illness. Orlandi went to his knees on the carpet, groaning with the effort as his joints protested, bending over until he huddled there with his back bowed, his forehead on the woolen nap. He prayed, as if he were a simple e’teni in the service of the temple. Cenzi, I beg You to help me now.

Show me Your will. Tell me how I can accomplish Your work. . He prayed, not knowing how long he stayed there, reciting from the praise-poems he loved so much in the Toustour. It is Your task that I do here. Not mine.

Guide me, for I am too blind and too confused to see the way. .

After a time, he rose slowly, sore and stiff. He wiped at his eyes. He’d heard no clear answer to his prayers, but he knew one thing: whether the A’Kralj or the Hirzg eventually sat on the throne, that person would need a proper wife who gave them a political tie they could use. And Orlandi could-he must-provide that.

Orlandi went to the door and spoke to the e’teni stationed there.

“Find someone to fetch the courier from Firenzcia and send him to me; I have a note for him to deliver to the Hirzg. Then go yourself to U’Teni Estraven ca’Cellibrecca at the Old Temple-inform him that

he is to come here immediately. Do you understand?” The e’teni-a young woman who looked to be no more than sixteen and fresh from her studies as an acolyte-nodded with wide eyes. She hesitated, and he waved an impatient hand at her. “Go,” he said, and she fled, without even giving him the sign of Cenzi.

Orlandi returned to his desk, pulling the cipher disk from a pocket in his vestments. He took a piece of vellum from the drawer and un-stoppered the inkwell. He wrote slowly and carefully, dusting the manuscript with sand and blowing it off before folding it. He took a candle and a stick of red wax and sealed the letter, pressing his ring into a cooling pool of wax the size of a bronze folia. He put the letter in an envelope, addressed it to the Hirzg, and also sealed that.

By the time he’d finished, the rider had arrived. He handed the man the envelope. “The Hirzg must have this in his hand in two days,” he told the man. “It’s vital and I don’t care how many horses you have to kill to get it to him. Do you understand me?” The rider nodded. Estraven was outside as Orlandi opened the door to usher out the courier.

“A’Teni,” Estraven said, bowing and giving the sign of Cenzi as the courier hurried away. “You asked for me?”

“I did,” Orlandi told him. “Come in. Sit, Estraven. There’s wine and water on the desk; please, refresh yourself.”

He watched while Estraven poured himself a glass of wine. “Sorry

it took so long to get here, A’Teni; when your e’teni came to tell me, I was just finishing the Second Call passages for the celebrants, and I had to speak to the choirmaster regarding the evening services and the ceremony for the Kraljica. I came as soon as I could.”

Orlandi waved his hand. “The needs of the Faith come first,” he said. “In a sense, that’s why I’ve sent for you. I need you-because I can trust you to keep the Faith’s business private.”

His marriage-son’s face took on a faint blush of pride. “Indeed you can, A’Teni. What do you need of me?”

“I want you to go to Brezno, Estraven,” he said. “Quickly. I want you to leave tomorrow morning.”

Estraven’s smile collapsed. The wine shuddered in his glass. “To Brezno? With the Kraljica’s funeral in a week? I thought you had left U’Teni cu’Kohnle in charge of Brezno and Firenzcia. A’Teni, what

of my charge here? — all the services, my obligations. . I couldn’t possibly. .”

“You can. You will,” Orlandi said firmly, and that closed Estraven’s mouth. “I will make arrangements for your obligations to be covered.

U’Teni cu’Kohnle is with the Hirzg and away from Brezno, and I need someone in that city for the next month or two. I need you there soon, especially with the loss of the Kraljica. I can’t leave Nessantico myself, not with the funeral.”

“What. .” Estraven stopped, licking his lips. He took a sip of the wine. He seemed to be recovering himself. “This is all so sudden. I’m sorry, A’Teni, if I seemed flustered, but this comes so unexpectedly. Certainly, I’ll do whatever you ask, as I always have. What do you require me to do in Brezno?”

“I will send you written instructions this afternoon, Estraven, for you to open once you reach the temple in Brezno. I will also send word to U’Teni cu’Kohnle about your temporary assignment. In the meantime, I want you to get yourself ready to leave at daybreak.”

Estraven set the wine down, rising. “I’ll begin, then,” he said. He tapped his clean-shaven chin with a finger. “I should send word to Francesca that we’ll be leaving-or have you done that already, A’Teni?

She’ll need to get the household together.”

“Francesca will be staying here,” Orlandi told him, and he enjoyed the blink that Estraven gave in response. “You’ll be traveling with Vajiki Carlo cu’Belli and those in his employ. He’s a trader who travels frequently through the Holdings, and he has served me as well for the last several years. I will send along two of the teni from my own staff to act as your aides and coordinate things for you once you reach Brezno; your personal staff should remain here since they know the routines for the Old Temple. Vajiki cu’Belli has been an associate of mine for some time, and I have every confidence in him, despite what you’ll find are his somewhat coarse ways. His loyalty is unquestioned.”

“Of course, A’Teni. Is there more I should know?”

“Not now,” Orlandi told him. He came over to him, taking the man’s hands in his own and patting them. “Estraven, I’m giving you this task because I know how committed you are to the Faith, and how well you’ve always served me. I rewarded you with Francesca’s hand because of your faith. Now I ask you to trust me once again.”

“Of course, A’Teni.” The bravado was back in Estraven’s voice, his ego adequately stroked. “I won’t fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” Orlandi answered. He released Estraven’s hands and went to one of the windows, pulling