the raised steps of the quire, standing next to the prow of the High Lectern as if she were about to ascend and give a stern Admonition to the assembled Morellis. “How dare you step into the temple wearing the robes that were taken from you by the Archigos himself? How dare you come into this holy place after you’ve just murdered dozens outside? You are damned in the sight of Cenzi, Nico Morel, and I will have your tongue and your hands for this outrage!”
“My tongue and hands?” Nico responded. His voice sounded deep and rich after the shrill, breathless outcry of the older woman. “My tongue speaks the words of Cenzi Himself, A’Teni, and my hands hold His affection. They are not yours to have. They will never be yours.” He advanced down the aisle toward her, still talking. He could see the gardai along the walls, armed with bows, and he saw them fit arrows to their strings. He smiled. “I have listened to Him,” Nico said, “and He has told me that the time has come for me to reclaim my place, and that if you, A’Teni, or Archigos Karrol himself, will not see the truth of what I say, then He will cause you to curse your blindness and wail as the soul shredders tear your imperfect souls from your bodies.”
“You threaten me?” ca’Paim sputtered. “Here in my own temple, in front of Commandant cu’Ingres and my staff? You’re a fool as well as a heretic.”
“I don’t threaten,” Nico told her, still walking forward. He could hear the creaking of leather bowstrings under tension. His voice was calm. His voice was kind. His voice held a full measure of sympathy and understanding. “I give you a last chance, A’Teni, a chance to see the error of your thinking, to go to your knees and give the sign of Cenzi and ask Him for forgiveness.”
Nico thought for a moment that she had heard Cenzi in his voice, that she-finally, belatedly-understood. A’Teni ca’Paim said nothing. She stood there, her mouth open, and Nico saw her body trembling as if she were possessed of a fever. Her face lifted for a moment to cu’Brunelli’s dome above her, to the images painted there. Under the heavy, gold-threaded robes, her legs seemed to give way, to bend, and Nico thought that she would go to her knees there.
But the trembling ceased, and she stood straight again. “No,” she said aloud. “I will not.”
Nico sighed sadly. “I’m genuinely sorry for that,” he said. He lifted his hands. He began to chant.
“No!” ca’Paim, and this time it was a shout. “You are forbidden to use the Ilmodo. Stop him!” she said to cu’Ingres, and the Commandant gestured. Bowstrings sang their deathsong, and Nico heard Liana cry out in fear.
But it was already too late. Nico gestured, full of Cenzi’s power, and the arrows went to fire and ash before they could touch him. A wave-visible in the air-rippled outward from him in a great arc to the front and sides, and what it touched, it destroyed. Pews lifted and were hurled as if by a hurricane wind, slamming against walls and gardai alike. The plaster on the walls cracked, the fire in the braziers guttered and nearly failed.
And on the quire, the teni attendants, A’Teni ca’Paim, and Commandant cu’Ingres were also tossed and thrown. Nico saw ca’Paim’s body hit first the railing at the back of the quire, breaking it into splinters, then a sickening, dull clunk as her head collided with one of the columns. Her body slumped to the floor; blood smeared all the way down the column.
The spell passed, vanishing as if it had never been there, and Nico shivered for a moment in the cold and normal exhaustion of spell-casting. The interior of the temple was silent except for the moaning of injured gardai and teni. Cu’Ingres was trying to regain his feet, though from the way he cradled his left arm, it must have been broken. Ca’Paim did not move at all, and Nico knew then that she never would, nor would several of the gardai and teni. His eyesight wavered with tears: such a tragic, but necessary, waste… “May the soul shredders be kind to you,” he whispered toward ca’Paim’s body. “I forgive you your blindness.”
Liana came up to stand alongside him, her arms supporting him as the weariness of using the Ilmodo this strongly trembled his legs, and he could hear the others entering as well. Nico looked at Ancel and pointed to the Commandant. “Take him,” he said, “and bind his wounds. Have the healers among us look at him and the others.” He spat directions to the others. “Liana, make certain that the main doors are barricaded and barred. Tell our people to use whatever they can. You, and you-clear the plaza of our Faithful and get the the war-teni inside. You three-secure the rest of the doors into the temple once everyone’s inside. Everyone else, let’s clean up this place and make it a fit House for Cenzi again…”
He watched as his followers began to move. Then Nico sank to his knees and clasped his hands to his forehead in the sign of Cenzi, and he prayed.
The first step back had been taken. Now would come the rest of the journey.
Brie ca’Ostheim
“Rhianna, I wanted to talk with you…”
Rhianna put the quartet of tashtas she was carrying on the bed, smoothing the fabric of wrinkles-she and the domestiques de chambre had been tasked by Paulus with packing Brie’s clothing and essentials for the trip to the army’s encampment, and several trunks were scattered about the room, half-filled. The two other servants-older women who kept the Hirzgin’s bedchamber and attended to her needs there-continued to work after curtsying once to Brie. They pretended to ignore her presence with the long practice of servants at being invisible when required.
“What did you want, Hirzgin?” the young woman asked, brushing her hands on her apron and tucking a strand of her black hair behind an ear. She seemed guileless enough, but Brie had been watching Jan and Rhianna whenever the two were in the same room with her, and there was no doubt in her mind that Rhianna was certainly someone that her husband would bed if the opportunity presented itself. But she was relatively convinced it hadn’t happened yet. There was a skittishness to Rhianna whenever Jan was around, and she always kept herself a careful arm’s length from him. She didn’t act like someone who was already on intimate terms with him. Still, it was familiar, this dance; Brie had seen it too many times before: sometimes with servants, sometimes with one of the court ladies. Yet this time it was different, too. Rhianna didn’t seem as eager as the others to be caught, and that both pleased and worried Brie. She wondered what it was that Rhianna would want from Jan in return for the pleasures of her body, if she prized the gift so highly.
“I’ve been considering whether I should have you remain with the children here at Stag Fall,” Brie told her. She watched Rhianna’s face carefully. Yes, there was the hint of a frown, even though she tried to disguise it by wiping her brow with a sleeve.
“Paulus said that I would be going with the staff to the encampment,” she answered, and Brie smiled at her.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. But you’re so good with the children, Rhianna. Elissa especially likes you, and the nursemaids will have their hands full.”
Rhianna’s face was impassive. Carved from stone. The domestiques de chambre kept their heads down, intent on their own tasks: invisible. Brie knew that they had heard this conversation played out in one form or another before as well. “Whatever the Hirzgin wishes, of course,” Rhianna said, but the response was slow in coming and toneless.
“Unless, of course,” Brie continued, “the Hirzg would rather you were with us.”
Rhianna’s head came up, her eyes widened, and Brie felt the sickness tighten in her stomach. Such a strange look: fear and anticipation all at once, as if she doesn’t know what she wants… Brie kept the well-practiced smile on her face.
With Mavel cu’Kella, with the servants Maria and Greta, with the other women she’d known about, the decision would have been easy. Had Rhianna been like one of them, Brie would have her remain here, then dismiss her on her return. When lovers became too close to Jan, too bound up with him, they became a danger to Brie as well. With Rhianna, it wasn’t clear yet what was going to happen. Perhaps that’s better. If I sent her away, then Jan would just find someone else: someone I might not know about for too long. At least with Rhianna, I know who to watch, and I can always end it. She’s just one of the unranked, after all…
Brie nodded, as if to herself. “I’ll talk with the Hirzg,” she told Rhianna. “I’ll ask him what he thinks.”
The girl nodded. “I’ll…” She cut off whatever it was she might have said. “I should finish the packing in the meantime,” she said.
“Yes,” Brie told her. “I’ll leave you to that.”
