A Magic of Nightfall

Audric ca’Dakwi

His Great-Matarh frowned as he struggled to breathe on the bed. “Get up, boy,” she told him. “The Kraljiki can’t lie there weak and helpless. The Kraljiki must be strong; the Kraljiki must show he can lead his people.”

“But, Great-Matarh,” he told her. “It’s so hard. My chest hurts so much…”

“Kraljiki?” Seaton and Marlon entered the bechamber from the door to the servants’ corridor. The two of them struggled with a heavy wheeled easel draped in gold-brocaded blue cloth.

“Ah,” Audric said. “Good.” He pointed to the painting over the fireplace. “You see, Great-Matarh? Now you may come with me wherever I go.” He supervised as his attendants took down the painting and placed it carefully on the easel, making certain it was secured to the frame of the device so it couldn’t fall. Audric watched, and thought that Marguerite looked pleased. “It must have been boring, having to stare at the same room all day and night. It would have driven me mad…” He looked at Seaton. “Have they come as I ordered?”

“Yes, Kraljiki,” Seaton answered. “They’re waiting for you in the Sun Throne Hall.”

“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting. Bring the Kraljica with us.”

“And you, Kraljiki? Should we call for a chair?”

Audric shook his head. “I no longer require that,” he told them, told Marguerite. “I will walk.”

Seaton and Marlon glanced quickly at each other and bowed. Audric took as deep a breath as he could and led them from the bedchamber.

He thought perhaps he’d made a mistake by the time they’d walked nearly the length of the main wing of the palais. He was panting rapidly from the effort and could feel sweat dampening the back of his neck and beading on his forehead. He dabbed at the moisture with the lace of his sleeve as they reached the hall gardai. When they started to announce them, Audric stopped them. “A moment,” he said. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his breath.

“You can do this,” he heard Marguerite say, and he nodded to the gardai. They opened the doors for them. “The Kraljiki Audric,” one of them intoned into the hall.

Audric heard the rustling as the seven people inside came to their feet, their heads bowed as he entered: Sigourney ca’Ludovici, Aleron ca’Gerodi, Odil ca’Mazzak… all the appointed members of the Council. He could also see them desperately trying to glance up to see what was making such a racket as Seaton and Marlon wheeled in Marguerite’s portrait behind him. “Kraljiki,” Sigourney said, lifting from her bow as he stopped in front of her. “It’s good to see you doing so well.”

Her gaze slipped past him to the painting, and he saw her struggle to keep the puzzlement from her face.

“The reports of my illness have been exaggerated by those who wish to do me harm,” he told her. “I am well, thank you, Councillor.” He nodded to the others in the room. For a moment, he was frightened, like a child among a forest of adults, but then he heard Marguerite’s voice in his ear, whispering to him: “You are superior to them, boy. You are their Kraljiki; behave as if you expect their obedience and you will get it. Act as if you are still a child and they will treat you that way.”

With a nod to his attendants, Audric strode to the Sun Throne, forcing down the cough that threatened to double him over. He sat, and the Throne bloomed into light around him, the crystal facets gleaming. The e-teni stationed around the room relaxed as the glow surrounded him. Audric closed his eyes briefly as the easel was moved to sit at his right hand. His great-matarh could see them now, all of them.

They were staring at him, at Marguerite. “See the greed on their faces. They all want to sit where you’re sitting, Audric. Especially Sigourney; she wants it most of all. You can use that to get them to agree…”

“I won’t keep you long here,” he told the Council. “We are all busy people, and I am looking strongly at ways to bring Nessantico back to prominence against our enemies to both West and East. That is, I am certain, what each of us want. I vow to you now; I will reunite the Holdings.”

The speech nearly exhausted him, and he could not keep away the cough that followed, smothering it in a lace handkerchief. “The Council of Ca’ isn’t all present, Kraljiki,” Sigourney said. “We are missing Regent ca’Rudka.”

“I was aware of that,” Audric told her. “He is missing for good reason: the Regent was not invited.”

“Ah?” Sigourney breathed questioningly as the others murmured.

“See the eagerness-especially with Cousin Sigourney? They are all thinking about where they would stand if the Regent fell, and calculating their chances…”

“Yes,” Audric said before any of them could voice an objection. “I called this meeting to discuss the Regent. I won’t waste your time with diversions and small talk. For the good of Nessantico, I am asking for two rulings from the Council of Ca’. One, that Regent ca’Rudka be immediately imprisoned in the Bastida a’Drago for treason-” the uproar nearly drowned out the rest, “-and that I be elevated to rule as Kraljiki in truth as well as title.” The clamor of the Council redoubled at that statement. Audric sat back and listened, letting them argue among themselves. “Yes, use the opportunity to rest, and to listen…”

He did that. He watched them; he especially watched Sigourney. Yes, she kept glancing over to him as she spoke to the other councillors. He could see her weighing him, judging him. “This is what I desire,” Audric said at last, when the hubbub had died somewhat, “and it is what my great-matarh desires as well.” He gestured to the portrait, and was gratified to see her smile in return. They stared, all of them, their gazes moving from him to the painting and back again. “The Regent is a traitor to the Sun Throne. Ca’Rudka wishes to sit here where I am sitting now, and he is plotting to do so even at the expense of our success in the Hellins and against the Coalition.”

Aleron cleared his throat noisily, glancing at Sigourney. “Councillor ca’Ludovici has mentioned to all of us here your concerns, Kraljiki, and I wish to assure you that we take them seriously,” he said. “But proof of these accusations…”

“Your proof will come when ca’Rudka is interrogated, Vajiki ca’Gerodi,” Audric said, and the stress of speaking loudly enough to interrupt the man sent him into a spasm of coughing. They watched him, silent, as he regained control. “ Don’t worry. This works to your advantage, Audric. They’re all thinking that with the Regent gone, and you ill, that perhaps the Sun Throne will be quickly vacant, and one of them might take it. Sigourney, Odil, and Aleron had all heard the outlines of what you’re asking already, so they know what you’ll say. Look at Sigourney-see how eagerly she regards you? See how she’s assessing you for weakness. She has ambition… use it!” Audric glanced over gratefully at his great-matarh, inclining his head to her as he wiped his mouth.

“I am convinced,” Audric told them, “that Regent ca’Rudka was responsible for Archigos Ana’s assassination, that he intends to abandon the Hellins despite the tremendous sacrifice of our gardai, and that he is conspiring with those in the Firenzcian Coalition against me, perhaps intending to place Hirzg Fynn here on the Sun Throne if he cannot sit there himself.”

“Those are serious accusations, Kraljiki,” Odil ca’Mazzak said. “Why isn’t Regent ca’Rudka here to answer them?”

“To deny them, you mean?” Audric laughed, and Marguerite’s amusement rose twined with his own. “That’s what he would do. You’re right, Cousin: these are serious accusations, and I don’t make them lightly. It’s also why I believe that the Regent must be removed from his position. Let those in the Bastida rip the truth from him.” He paused. They watched him as he smiled at his great-matarh. “Let me rule as the new Spada Terribile as my great-matarh did, and bring Nessantico to new heights.”

“ See? They look at you with new eyes, my great-son. They no longer hear a child, but a man…”

They did watch him carefully, appraisingly. He sat up in the chair, holding their gazes regally as he imagined his great-matarh had, looking at the shadow of himself the gleam of the throne cast on the walls and ceiling. “I know,” he told her.

“You know what, Kraljiki?” Sigourney asked him, and he shook himself, his hands tightening on the cold arms of the Sun Throne.

“I know that you have doubts,” he answered, and there was a susurration of agreement, like the voices of the wind in the chimneys of the palais. “But I also know that you are the best of Nessantico, and that you care as deeply as I do for her. I know that you will discuss this, and you will come-as you must-to the same conclusion that I have. My great-matarh was called early to the throne, and so am I. This is my time, and I ask the Council to acknowledge that.”

“Kraljiki…” Sigourney bowed to him. “A decision this important can’t be taken easily or lightly. We… the Council… must talk among ourselves first.”

“Show them. Show them your leadership. Now.” “Do that,” Audric told her. “But I ask that you send ca’Rudka to the Bastida while you deliberate. The man is a danger: to me, to the Council of Ca’, and to Nessantico. That is the least you can do for the good of Nessantico.”

He stood, and they bowed to him. He left the room and the Sun Throne dimmed behind him. Behind him, Seaton and Marlon escorted Kraljica Marguerite from the chamber in his wake.

He could hear her approval. He could hear it as easily as if she walked alongside him.