Jan!” The chevarittai with him smiled, but they also closed ranks around him protectively, and they watched the houses and the growing crowds carefully for any signs of trouble.
Too many of them had fought against Holdings troops. Too many of them had felt the enmity of the Holdings to the Coalition. Like Jan, they wondered what the real thoughts were behind the cheers.
By the time they could see the the ancient gates looming ahead of them, the crowds had grown even larger, filling either side of the street. There were people waving from atop the remnants of the old city walls, and every window and balcony was filled. Starkkapitan ca’ Damont leaned over toward Jan. “You’d think the Tehuantin were already running back across the sea.”
Jan shrugged. “I think they’re remembering that when I last brought the army here, we came after the Tehuantin had already taken the city. They’re hoping that this means they’re saved. Though judging by the faces ahead of us, some people are less convinced of that.”
He nodded toward where the blue-and-gold banner of the Holdings waved in the middle of the Avi just under the ramparts of the city gate. One of the group there wore the livery of the Kraljica’s staff; the rest seemed to be a contingent of chevarittai and-judging by the fancy bashtas of two or three-members of the Council of Ca’.
If the citizens were smiling, they were not. They were entirely grim-faced and solemn. Jan found himself somehow disappointed that Allesandra herself wasn’t there, though he knew that-had the Kraljica deigned to visit Brezno-he would have done the same, would have let her come to him.
Jan felt keenly now the loss of his aide Rance, who would have been riding alongside him and who would have been able to identify many of the people waiting for them. “Do you know them?” Jan asked ca’Damont, leaning toward the Starkkapitan. “Is that Matarh’s aide? What’s his name? Talbot ci’Noel or something like that…”
“Talbot ci’Noel it is, I believe,” ca’Damont answered. “And that’s probably him. The other ones…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know any of the councillors other than Vajica ca’Pallo, and she’s not present. I’m sorry, Hirzg.” Jan saw his eyes narrow then. “That man behind ci’Noel, dressed Magyarian style. I would swear that’s Erik ca’Vikej, that traitor Stor’s son. Look at that smirk on his face-this could be a trap, Hirzg.”
Ca’Damont’s hand had gone to his sword hilt, and Jan touched his arm. “Not now,” he told the Starkkapitan. “Matarh wouldn’t be that obvious. Let’s get the lay of the land first.”
The aide ci’Noel stepped forward with the councillors as Jan reached them, his chevarittai moving aside to let Jan be the first to enter the city. The aide bowed low; the councillors less so. “Hirzg Jan,” he said. “I welcome you again to Nessantico after far too long an absence. Kraljica Allesandra sends her greetings and her gratitude, and she awaits you at the palais. If you will permit us to escort you to her…”
“Thank you, Vajiki ci’Noel,” Jan answered, pleased when the man nodded in acknowledgment-the name was either right or close enough. “And Councillors and Chevarittai,” he said to the others. He ignored ca’Vikej. It would have been better to have called a few of the councillors and chevarittai out by name, but instead he simply inclined his head to them. “This is Starkkapitan ca’Damont of the Garde Civile, and-” He had heard the carriage door open, and glanced back to see the Archigos being helped down. “Archigos Karrol,” he finished.
Ci’Noel inclined his head to ca’Damont, but significantly did not give Archigos Karrol the sign of Cenzi. Instead, he bowed to him as he might to anyone. Jan remembered then that his matarh’s aide was one of the Numetodo. Archigos Karrol was frowning, his hands halfway up to his bowed forehead to return the the expected sign. The councillors and chevarittai, however, did clasp their hands to forehead, and the Archigos returned their gesture perfunctorily, with a visible scowl. “Welcome, Starkkapitan,” ci’Noel said. “I’m certain that Commandant ca’Talin will welcome your arrival and your advice; he will be waiting at the palais also. Archigos, you’re welcome as well, especially since A’Teni ca’Paim’s death has left the Faithful here bereft of leadership. I know Commandant ca’Talin is desperate for the help of your war-teni.”
Ci’Noel said that last with a trace of a smile, and Jan realized that he probably suspected how few war-teni had followed the Archigos. The Archigos sniffed audibly. “I will be going to the Archigos’ Temple immediately to take up residence there and see what needs to be done,” he said to the aide. “I assume someone will guide us to the easiest way there.”
“Certainly, Archigos,” ci’Noel answered, “as soon as you’ve seen the Kraljica. She has asked that you be present at the meeting also.”
“It’s been a long ride,” the Archigos answered, “and as you can see, I’m not as young as others here…”
“The Kraljica expects your presence first, ” ci’Noel interrupted, and that brought up the Archigos’ head to glare at the man. “I’m certain the Hirzg understands the importance of state precedents, and has explained them to you.”
He’s taken lessons from Matarh… Jan almost smiled at the clever impertinence of the man. “The Archigos will undoubtedly want to hear the latest regarding Nico Morel,” Jan agreed, and Karrol’s glare now turned to him. “So he can make the best decision regarding Morel’s fate and that of his followers.”
“Indeed,” ci’Noel said, nodding vigorously before the Archigos could object. “There is news there that I’m sure she’s waiting to tell you.” He bowed again. “If you’ll follow me, Hirzg Jan. The citizenry, as you can see, are waiting to give you their own welcome.”
With that, one of the chevarittai led a horse forward and ci’Noel pulled himself onto the saddle. He nodded his head to Jan and tugged at the reins, turning his horse to continue westward.
The populace cheered as they proceeded under the arch of the gate and into Nessantico.
Allesandra ca’Vorl
She was more nervous than she’d imagined she would be. The hall of the Sun Throne had been set for the reception, and as she waited in the small room behind the throne’s dais with three palais e-teni and two of the hall servants, she could hear the servants bustling about making certain that everything was set. She’d been told that Hirzg Jan and the others were on the palais grounds, that Talbot and the Council of Ca’ were escorting them to the hall, and she went to the nearly transparent scrim to peer into the hall. There was a loud knock on the far door, and the palais door wards hurried to open it. Talbot entered, bowing and indicating that the Hirzg should enter.
For the first time in fifteen years, she saw her son.
He’d changed; he hadn’t changed. She certainly knew him immediately. The image of him as a young man burned in her mind was still there in this adult in the prime of his life. His hair had darkened and receded a bit, and there was a trace of gray at his temples that surprised her. She touched her own hair, knowing that the white was rapidly overpowering the color in her long, bound tresses. But his features: those were the eyes she remembered, with a hawk’s gaze that could send an arrow flying unerringly to the heart of a stag. The set of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, his confident stride; they were still as she remembered.
She wanted to part the curtain and run to him, yet she could not. This was to be a dance as intricate and tightly choreographed as any ce’Miella minuet. This was not the time for emotions to rule, but for diplomacy. Even with the challenge of the Tehuantin pressing against their doorstep, the niceties of society and position must be followed. So Allesandra waited as Jan and the Firenzcian contingent were escorted up to the open space before the throne’s dais, until the servants had hurried forward with trays of refreshments. Her councillors (with Varina joining them and holding Nico’s daughter) were standing in their own huddle; the Firenzcian chevarittai, like most warriors fresh from a long march, took the offered food and drink eagerly, Starkkapitan ca’Damont with them. Archigos Karrol stood in front of the steps of the dais and waved away the servants (to the evident consternation of the teni clustered around him); he seemed to be contemplating whether his position as Archigos would permit him to ascend the steps up to the dais, his face-when he lifted it from staring at the floor-was a mask of irritation. Jan took water but waved away the food, standing and speaking softly to Talbot in front of ci’Recroix’s massive painting of a peasant family. Jan was staring over Talbot’s shoulder at the stunningly lifelike figures on the canvas.
Erik was standing alone. Isolated. Ignored by both Firenzcians and Nessanticans. Somehow, Allesandra found that fitting.
Talbot glanced over toward the screen and nodded. He bowed briefly to Jan, then brushed past Archigos Karrol to ascend the dais and stand to one side of the Sun Throne. Conversation in the room failed as everyone looked at him. Faintly, Allesandra heard one of the e-teni with her start to chant and gesture. “Kraljica Allesandra ca’Vorl of the Holdings,” Talbot intoned, and the e-teni’s spell made his words boom and thunder in the hall, as if a Moitidi had spoken them. The other two e-teni were chanting now, and as the hall servants parted the curtain, they
