Read A Magic of Nightfall Online
Authors: S. L. Farrell
A Magic of Nightfall (56 page)
“Why, if you could do all that, why isn’t it that you’re the Kraljiki yourself rather than a refugee?” she asked him, but gave him no time to respond. “And if you can do all this, what is it that you want in return?”
“Nothing,” he said, and Allesandra felt surprise lift her eyebrows. “Give me whatever reward you see fit. I do this for Nessantico only, to whom I have always pledged my life. I once protected Nessantico from Firenzcia’s aggression; now, I will give her to Firenzcia freely. Kraljica Marguerite believed in marriage as a way to reconcile opposing forces, and I believe the same, because the marriage of Nessantico to Firenzcia is what she needs now to survive.”
Pretty words
, she wanted to say scoffingly. She wasn’t certain she believed the man at all. But Cénzi had brought the Regent to her, all unexpected, a gift she couldn’t refuse.
“You are an intelligent, talented, and attractive young woman,”
Archigos Ana had told her when news had reached Nessantico that her vatarh had named the infant Fynn as the A’Hirzg and refused to pay the ransom that Kraljiki Justi had demanded for her release. It had been less than a year into her cushioned and bejeweled imprisonment, and Allesandra had wept in bewilderment and fright. Ana—the enemy—had held her and comforted her, had stroked her hair and calmed her again.
“I know Cénzi has a plan for you. I can feel it, Allesandra. There is a great part for you to play yet in life. . . .”
, she wanted to say scoffingly. She wasn’t certain she believed the man at all. But Cénzi had brought the Regent to her, all unexpected, a gift she couldn’t refuse.
“You are an intelligent, talented, and attractive young woman,”
Archigos Ana had told her when news had reached Nessantico that her vatarh had named the infant Fynn as the A’Hirzg and refused to pay the ransom that Kraljiki Justi had demanded for her release. It had been less than a year into her cushioned and bejeweled imprisonment, and Allesandra had wept in bewilderment and fright. Ana—the enemy—had held her and comforted her, had stroked her hair and calmed her again.
“I know Cénzi has a plan for you. I can feel it, Allesandra. There is a great part for you to play yet in life. . . .”
She would play that part. She would have what her vatarh had once promised her: the brilliant necklace of Nessantico. That was the reason that Sergei ca’Rudka had appeared now.
“We shall see, Regent ca’Rudka,” was all she told him now. “In the end, it will be as Cénzi wills. . . .”
Niente
N
IENTE STOOD ON THE SLOPE of Karnor with Tecuhtli Zolin and his High Warriors, the city spread out below him, and he saw the vision he had glimpsed in the bowl.
IENTE STOOD ON THE SLOPE of Karnor with Tecuhtli Zolin and his High Warriors, the city spread out below him, and he saw the vision he had glimpsed in the bowl.
The windows of the temple just below them were shattered, gouged-out eyes in the skull of a ruined building. Soot blackened the stones around them, greasy smoke still rising through them. The golden half-dome was broken, the gilded masonry fallen in. Fires flared skyward at a dozen places in the city, brighter than the setting sun.
The attack had gone quickly and easily. As soon as they had glimpsed the heights of the Easterners’ great island Karnmor, Niente had called together the nahualli who could control the wind and the sky, and they had conjured a wall of dense fog to conceal the Tehuantin fleet as they approached. The fog bank wrapped them in gray-white air and muffled the sounds of their preparations. By the time the spell-fog failed and drifted away in wisps, the
Yaoyotl
—flying the eagle banner of Tehuantin—was already at the mouth of Karnor Harbor, its sister ships spread out in two great wings to either side. Karnor Harbor was vast and deep, nested in cliffs of stony arms with the city perched far back, leagues away.
Yaoyotl
—flying the eagle banner of Tehuantin—was already at the mouth of Karnor Harbor, its sister ships spread out in two great wings to either side. Karnor Harbor was vast and deep, nested in cliffs of stony arms with the city perched far back, leagues away.
A hand of Holdings naval ships were stationed there, and they tacked to face the onslaught even as fishing and pleasure vessels fled for safety. Niente had to admire the bravery of the Holdings captains: in the face of a vastly superior force they didn’t flee but turned to confront them directly with their blue-and-gold flags fluttering atop the masts. Still, it had been slaughter. The sea wind was behind the Tehuantin fleet and the Holdings ships had to beat slowly into the wind. The war-téni aboard the Holdings galleons had little time to prepare their spells—perhaps more powerful than those of the nahualli, but slow to create, and Niente had pushed his nahualli all that day. Their spell-sticks were full, the black sands already prepared. The spells of the nahualli had been able to deflect most of the arcing fire of the war-téni away from the ships, though the ship alongside the
Yaoyotl
took a direct hit that fanned into a monstrous blossom of fire and destruction along the decks, sending dozens of men screaming into the cold swells and setting the ship aflame and dead in the water, so that the ships behind had to tack suddenly to avoid it.
Yaoyotl
took a direct hit that fanned into a monstrous blossom of fire and destruction along the decks, sending dozens of men screaming into the cold swells and setting the ship aflame and dead in the water, so that the ships behind had to tack suddenly to avoid it.
Tecuhtli Zolin was on deck, screaming orders from the forecastle; the Tehuantin ships answered with the massive bolts tipped with capsules of black sand and flung from catapults on the decks: the engines had flung the sputtering missiles toward the defenders of Karnmor; the capsules, enchanted with fire spells, exploded on impact, sending boards to splinters, ripping and tearing bloody limbs from the unfortunate sailors. The Nessantican ships had faltered, their sails afire, or drooping as they lost the wind under the assault. Tecuhtli Zolin shrieked orders and a second round of fire missiles raked them.
They left the defenders behind as nothing more than hulks burning down to the waterline, and the fleet advanced into the inner harbor of the city. The soldiers of Karnor massed there under command of a few horsed chevarittai, but again Tecuhtli Zolin called his orders and the catapults flung their awful messengers into their midst, the explosions trembling the steep hills on which Karnor was built and starting fires among the buildings. The soldiers and the nahualli shouted in victory as they approached the harbor, the sound itself terrifying as swords clashed against shields and spell-staffs clattered. Niente shouted with them, his own throat raw from yelling and the smoke of battle. He saw residents fleeing through the streets in unorganized mobs, streaming up and away from the sudden clash of battle in the harbor as gangplanks boomed down and disgorged the Tehuantin soldiers. They charged out screaming, their tattooed faces furious and joyful at the same time. Tecuhtli Zolin led them, his curved sword flashing in the sunlight and his voice calling challenge to the waiting enemy. Niente and his nahualli rushed after them, and their spell-staffs gleamed white as they flung war-bolts into the ranks of the soldiers. Niente’s own stave had been quickly depleted, and he had taken the bundle of eagle claws lashed to his back, turning the ivory tubes to activate the contact fire spell and tossing them high over the front ranks of the soldiers to explode in their midst. Once, a wounded Nessantican soldier had risen up from the ground as he stepped over him. Luckily, the man was weak from his wounds, and Niente was able to step away from the wobbly thrust of the sword. He’d taken his knife from his belt and slashed the keen edge across the man’s exposed throat before the soldier could recover. Hot blood had spattered Niente’s hand, and the man gave a gurgling cry as he collapsed for a final time. A deep knife thrust to the side of the man’s neck had finished him, and Niente had risen to find the battle nearly over, with the defenders retreating into the city, pursued by the Tehuantin.
By the time the sun had set—red and sullen through the smoke of the burning city—Karnor was theirs, what was left of it. Below him, Niente could hear faint screaming and wailing as the Tehuantin sacked and plundered the city and killed those they found there. Far below, in the harbor, the holds of the Tehuantin ships were being stuffed with the largesse of the city.
Niente stood with Tecuhtli Zolin and the Tehuantin High Warriors Citlali and Mazatl. Nearby, guarded by tattooed warriors, the commandant and three chief offiziers of the defenders knelt bound and silenced. The prisoners stared at the fire that the nahualli had built at Niente’s direction, and at the flat altar stone from the Karnmor Temple that Niente had ordered dragged here to the summit of Mount Karnmor.
Four eagle claws, their horns filled with black sand, had been placed in the center of the altar stone. They stared at those most of all.
“These Easterners,” Tecuhtli Zolin commented, “are poor fighters. They ran like frightened children.” He glanced back to the prisoners with a scowl. The Tecuhtli wore his armor, the leather-backed bamboo notched here and there by an enemy blade, the supple tubes rattling softly as he moved. The armor was spattered and stained with blood, though little of it appeared to be his. The sun was fully down now, and the moon had risen in the east—Zolin glanced that way. “Axat won’t even accept the offering of these incompetents.”
Niente remembered the battles around Lake Malik, and shook his head. “Tecuhtli, they were caught unawares and unprepared for us. That won’t happen again. The whispers of what happened here will come to their Kraljiki and the commanders of their army. Perhaps . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to say the next words. “Perhaps it would be best if we take what we have gained here and return home.”
Tecuhtli Zolin laughed mockingly. “Go back? Now? When we’re standing here in the smoke of victory, just as you foresaw? Nahual Niente, you disappoint me. I came here to challenge this Kraljiki who would send his people to steal our cousins’ land but who won’t even lead his own army. Citlali, Mazatl—what do you say?”
Mazatl was already frowning, firelight playing over his marked face. Like Zolin, he still wore his battered and gore-marked armor. “I say that I’m glad to be standing on the ground, even here. To be at sea again?” He spat on the rocks at his feet. “I came to fight, not to sail. I say we give Axat what She has earned here, and go on.” Citlali muttered his agreement, but appeared less convinced.
The nahualli and the warriors gathered nearest the fire had already begun the low, haunting chanting of the prayer to Axat. The moon’s light fell bright and full on the altar stone, glinting on the thick glass tips of the eagle claws. Niente nodded to Zolin.
Two nahualli grabbed one of the prisoners and hauled the man forward. The offizier was blubbering with fright, calling out to Cénzi. The nahualli pulled him onto the altar stone and pushed him down to his knees. He stared up at Niente in terror. “Go bravely to your death,” Niente said to the man in his own language as he picked up one of the eagle claws. He turned the horn at the tip, the ominous click loud as the spell was activated. “Pray to your god. This will be quick. I promise you that much.” Niente nodded again, and the nahualli held the man’s arms tight as the man closed his eyes, his lips moving in silent prayer.
Niente opened his own mind to Axat and the moon glow, and pressed the bone of the muzzle to the man’s stomach. The sound of the eagle claw’s detonation echoed over the city.
Allesandra ca’Vörl
J
AN LOOKED ALMOST FRIGHTENED, his eyes so wide there was white entirely around the pupils. “Matarh . . . taking the army against the Holdings . . . I don’t know.”
AN LOOKED ALMOST FRIGHTENED, his eyes so wide there was white entirely around the pupils. “Matarh . . . taking the army against the Holdings . . . I don’t know.”
“I understand the danger,” she told him. “Yes, it is a huge step to take so early in your time as Hïrzg, and I understand how you must feel. I do. You would need to trust Starkkapitän ca’Damont’s expertise; even so, this would test you beyond anything you’ve ever done in your life. But, Jan, I know this is something you can do. Taking the army into battle is something you
must
eventually do—as nearly every Hïrzg of Firenzcia has done. Even your vatarh would tell you that. Fynn was eighteen, only two years older than you, when he first did so.” She nodded toward Semini, who sat silently in his own chair. They were in Allesandra’s chambers, the three of them. The servants had been dismissed after they had served dinner, the remnants of which decorated the table between them. “Semini knows,” she said. “He commanded the war-téni when your great-vatarh Jan nearly took Nessantico.”
must
eventually do—as nearly every Hïrzg of Firenzcia has done. Even your vatarh would tell you that. Fynn was eighteen, only two years older than you, when he first did so.” She nodded toward Semini, who sat silently in his own chair. They were in Allesandra’s chambers, the three of them. The servants had been dismissed after they had served dinner, the remnants of which decorated the table between them. “Semini knows,” she said. “He commanded the war-téni when your great-vatarh Jan nearly took Nessantico.”
“And he would have succeeded, had that vile heretic of an Archigos not used her Numetodo magic against us,” Semini grumbled. He seemed more like a bear than ever, hunched over on his chair. He tapped his plate, but looked carefully away from Allesandra. She could still remember the shock of that evening:
she had been in the tent sitting on her vatarh’s lap. “You are my little bird,” he was saying, “and I love—” Then his voice cut off and—impossibly—she was outside far from the encampment, sprawled on rain-soaked ground in the night as Archigos Ana and some strange man fought each other with Ilmodo magic she would have thought impossible
. Yes, she remembered that all too well—and she knew that her capture was the reason her vatarh had failed, and that he blamed her for it. “Oh, there’s much that the Holdings hasn’t yet answered for,” the Archigos continued, looking only at Jan. He pounded softly on the tablecloth with a fist. “I look forward to demanding payment. Hïrzg Jan, I stand ready to be at your right hand, with all the war-téni of the Faith alongside me.”
she had been in the tent sitting on her vatarh’s lap. “You are my little bird,” he was saying, “and I love—” Then his voice cut off and—impossibly—she was outside far from the encampment, sprawled on rain-soaked ground in the night as Archigos Ana and some strange man fought each other with Ilmodo magic she would have thought impossible
. Yes, she remembered that all too well—and she knew that her capture was the reason her vatarh had failed, and that he blamed her for it. “Oh, there’s much that the Holdings hasn’t yet answered for,” the Archigos continued, looking only at Jan. He pounded softly on the tablecloth with a fist. “I look forward to demanding payment. Hïrzg Jan, I stand ready to be at your right hand, with all the war-téni of the Faith alongside me.”
Jan still looked uncertain, and Allesandra reached out to pat his hand. “Jan,” she said, “ultimately this must be your decision, not mine. I’m not the Hïrzg, you are.”
“You didn’t want
this
when you could have had it
,
” Jan said, tapping the golden band of the Hïrzg’s crown on his head. “And yet now you want to—” He stopped, abruptly. Blinked. “Oh,” he said. His eyes narrowed.
this
when you could have had it
,
” Jan said, tapping the golden band of the Hïrzg’s crown on his head. “And yet now you want to—” He stopped, abruptly. Blinked. “Oh,” he said. His eyes narrowed.
She worried at the look on his face. “Think of what we could accomplish together, Jan,” she told him hurriedly, “with the same family on the Sun Throne and on the Throne of Firenzcia. We could bind the Holdings together and create a greater, more peaceful empire than Marguerite’s.”
He said nothing. He looked from Semini to Allesandra, then rose from his seat and walked quickly to the door. “Jan?” she called after him, and he paused there. He spoke without turning around to her.
“I’m beginning to understand some of what Vatarh said about you before he left, Matarh,” Jan said. “He told me that you use people for your own purposes; he said that was exactly the way your own vatarh had been, so it wasn’t all that surprising. He said that was what had made Great-Vatarh an effective Hïrzg, but a dangerous friend. I wonder if I can ever be such a good Hïrzg. I wonder if I would ever want to be.” Jan knocked on the door and the hall servants opened it.
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