A Magic of Nightfall

Sergei ca’Rudka

“ I want…to send another… division of the… Garde Civile… to supplement… our troops… there,” Audric said.

The boy could barely get the words out through the wheezing and coughing. The anger in him seemed to make the affliction worse than usual, as if Archigos Kenne’s prayers had done nothing at all.

Sergei forced his features to close, to reveal nothing of what he was thinking. Let the boy have his tantrum. But the words made him worry: this didn’t seem to be Audric talking; he was hearing someone else’s words. Who had been speaking to the boy? Whose advice was being whispered in his ear for him to spout? One of the chevarittai, perhaps, looking for glory in war. Perhaps Sigourney herself, since her brother was commandant there.

Audric was staring past Sergei’s shoulder; he glanced back to the grim portrait of Kraljica Marguerite over the hearth. “I thought I had made my thoughts on this clear to you, Kraljiki,” he said, his voice carefully neutral, carefully bland. “I don’t think that’s wise, not with the size of the army the Coalition could raise if they decided to do so. This war in the Hellins is like a seeping wound; it cripples us and takes our attention away from where it should be: east, not west. We should be looking at what we can do to restore the Holdings.”

The boy’s gaze flicked from the portrait to Sergei and back again. “The Hellins provide us riches and goods that we can’t find elsewhere.” “riches… and goods… [cough]… that… we can’t… find elsewhere.”

“Indeed they do, Kraljiki, but we could obtain those goods by trade with the Westlanders as easily as by war. Easier, in fact. Once the Holdings are unified again, then will be the time to look across the Strettosei to the Hellins once more. We have lost too much ground there, because we can’t give the territory the attention we should.”

Audric’s face was flushed, either from the effort of speaking or from anger, or both. “That’s not what my vatarh said when the Troubles started, Regent. Do you think that because I was just a child then that I wouldn’t remember?” “… just a… child… then… [wheeze]… that I… wouldn’t… remem… ber?”

The mask of his face showed nothing. “When the Troubles started, Kraljiki Justi believed he had no choice but to respond. He believed what the a’offiziers told him, that the Westlanders were little more than savages, that they would soon be pushed back past Lake Malik. But I’d remind you that I didn’t share that belief. The news continues to worsen despite the best efforts of Commandant ca’Sibelli. We have misjudged the Westlanders, and it’s time to save what we can from a poor decision.”

“My vatarh did not make a poor decision!” The boy shrilled the words, managing to get them all out in one breath. He coughed then, long and deeply, and Sergei waited. “I want another division sent,” Audric persisted. “That is my will. That is your Kraljiki’s will.”

“You are the Kraljiki,” Sergei told him. He kept his voice low and soothing against the strident, high screeching of Audric. “But the Council of Ca’ named me Regent on your vatarh’s death until you reach your majority.”

“I’m nearly of age,” Audric answered. His face was so pale that Sergei thought the boy might faint. “Less than two years now. I could petition the Council to have you removed, to be permitted to govern fully. They’ve done that in the past. Maister ci’Blaylock told me: Kraljiki Carin dismissed his Regent at fourteen, the same age I am.”

Sergei lifted his hand. Gently. Smiling under his silver nose. “Yes, that’s been done. But you and I needn’t be at odds here, my Kraljiki.”

“Then don’t defy me, Regent. I will go to the Council. I will. I will have you removed.” The boy gesticulated wildly, and that sent him into another paroxysm of coughing.

“Audric…” Sergei responded patiently while the young man fell back on his pillow. Marlon, lurking in the rear corner of the room, was staring wide-eyed at Sergei, shaking his head. “Perhaps I’ve been remiss in not engaging you fully, in not having you take part in all the briefing and discussions. That can be changed; it will be changed. I promise you; if you wish to take part in all discussions of state, to read all the reports, to listen to all the councillors, to really see what it means to govern, then I will accommodate that. But the Hellins…” He shook his head. “It’s been almost seven years now, Audric. Seven years and the Westlanders have taken back most of what we’d originally gained there. Seven years, and we’ve lost far too many gardai and squandered far too many gold solas and red blood trying to hold back the tide. At the end of the day, I want what you want. I want the Holdings to have the riches of the Westlands. I do. But this isn’t the time. And this isn’t the time for us to discuss this. Tomorrow, when you’re feeling better…”

“Then get out! ” Audric shouted at him, loudly enough that the hall attendant opened the door slightly to peer in. Sergei shook his head at the man. “Get out and leave me alone.” He turned his head, coughing into his pillow.

“As you wish, Kraljiki.” Sergei bowed to the young man. As he turned to leave, he saw the Kraljica’s portrait once more. She seemed to smile sadly at him, as if she understood.