Cela fait longtemps que je n'ai pas posté, mais j'ai quelques chapitres en cours, la plupart sur les années 30, et quelques uns qui retournent en arrière. Ce devraient être mes derniers chapitres de présentation avant que les évènements se précipitent vraiment.
Bonne lecture.
XXXIV. Le ventre de l'Europe (1)
Sarajevo, Kingdom of Yugoslavia : 1934
I. Julius Kane
It must be there. But why is it so quiet? The low and long house had white walls, a tiled roof and closed green shutters. A bronze sign with words in Cyrillic, Greek and Hieroglyphs was hanging on the wooden door. It read: 125th Nome: Western Balkans. I knocked on the door again, but it was locked from inside. I could feel the familiar ting that meant the building was covered with protective spells. Is anyone there at all?
As a top combat-magician apprentice, I was supposed to do a week of internship with some active magicians. We would most often be sent to smaller Nomes, who were always in dire need of reinforcement. Sarajevo was not really my choice, but my father and the Chief Lector's. "We're not sending you to some quiet corner, do some paperwork like your comrades. You're a Kane, the time has come, had said my father. You're not a boy anymore. You must prove your valor and earn your place." Despite this, I still felt like a lost little boy. What should I do?
Suddenly someone opened the door. A tall, mustached man, wearing Turkish red pants and a brown jacket looked at me suspiciously. I tried English. He looked confused. I cursed silently. I had never been really good with languages, I only knew English and Arabic, still struggled with Alexandrian Greek. And translation spells were difficult, I hadn't actually mastered one yet.
I repeated my question in Demotic. Who knows, he might understand? I never understood why we were speaking Greek at the First Nome. This was supposed to be the language of our invaders. To my greatest surprise, he finally got what I was saying, but answered in Modern Greek. I couln't figure out one word of what he'd said. He gestured to me, and I followed him through the streets of Sarajevo. Who is this guy? He's not from the Per Ankh, that's for sure. Where is everyone? What if he's a monster?
In front of the synagogue stood another little white house. He led me inside. The place was a local café, with wooden walls and a polished counter. Red curtains framed a stage in one corner, birch stairs led underground. People were sitting around tables or at the counter, eating, smoking and reading newspapers. The smoke stung my eyes. The guy motioned me to wait for him, said some words to the barman, and disappeared behind a brown curtain. People glanced at me. I felt uneasy. Everything about me screamed foreigner.
The man came back and motioned for me to join him. Behind the curtain was a large patio shaded by vines. Tables were scattered around a stone fountain, with a small gray crocodile spitting water through its tail. At the end of the patio, behind an orange tree, a man and a woman were drinking Turkish coffee, some newspapers spread open on the white metallic table. I recognized the man, dressed in a grey linen suit. He didn't look very pleased to see me. He had long dark brows, and a very expressive face.
"You're early, he just said in Arabic.
– It is nine a.m. already."
The woman looked familiar, though I couldn't remember here I had seen her. She had light-chestnut curls, pale blue eyes, a large smiling mouth with faucets, and little wrinkles around her eyes. Though she wasn't exactly a beauty there was some kind of warmth radiating from her, something magnetic about her presence.
"Sit, said the woman."
She gestured to the chair in front of us and stared at me with curiosity.
"You can call me Alice, she just said."
She spoke perfect English.
"Who are you? I asked.
– Just an old friend. "
She enthusiastically added something in French for the man. He grumpily replied, then folded the German newspaper he was reading.
"Never talk to him until he's had his morning coffee, she warned me. You will regret it."
Desjardins added something in French and her smile just widened. Just friends or more? I had never heard anything about the man being married. But then I didn't know much about him in general besides his ancestry, and that he used to serve at the Fourteenth Nome. He stared at me for a minute, studying my face. I wiggled a bit, he hardly blinked.
"You've grown up, said the woman. I'm feeling old now.
– Let the boy be, Alice, said the man. "
He had a thick French accent that made his companion giggle.
"Michel masters an insane amount of languages, yet English still not one of them, she told me. I doubt it ever will be with his studborn head. Don't worry he doesn't bite."
She stood up, kissed him on the cheek, grabed her bag and said:
"Have a good day, Julius. Whatch out for Bellini though, if he's bored, he'll certainly annoy you.
– Who? "
She stood up and left the patio. Desjardins and I headed back to the Nome. The older magician put his hand on the door, whispered some words and let us inside. We crossed the hall and went out to another yard, arranged as an exotic garden.
The guy who'd led me to the café was sitting in front of a map, under a great palm tree. Desjardins and him exchanged some words in Serbian. I looked around. The Nome's head was an earth elementalist, and it showed. Suddenly, he turned to me and addressed me:
"I have to leave. Now. To Beograd. We might have found something. I'm sorry, it's quite a busy moment right now. We've been tracking Setne's main associate for months."
I knew the story. When Setne rulled over the Balkans, during war time, he allied himself with all kind of deities and creatures. Most of them were long dead and gone. When Desjardins had taken over the Nome, his main task had been to track and destroy the rest of them. The region was a gigantic mess, hords of monsters, half-gods and spirits were roaming free everywhere. That's why my father had insisted that I'd be send there. Best place for me to prove myself. Setne himself had been vainquished, captured and send to the afterworld where he belonged at the end of the war, thanks to the conjuct efforts of the Greek, Italian and Romanian Nomes. Many good magicians had died facing his armies. But the chaos he had caused remained.
"Alright then…
– I told someone to come and look after you. He'll meet you there in an hour or so. You're under his responsibility. "
He took my hand and drew a hieroglyph on my palm.
"The key to the Nome, he just said. I'll let you know as soon as I know more. "
He then left, the other man followed him. I had one hour to kill. I went for a walk around the city. The city was built at the bottom of a valley. Somehow it made me feel a bit claustrophobic. We were in then old town, all the houses were low, white, with orange tiled roof. The coblestoned streets were a maze, and I soon found myself lost. The city was pretty but strange, unlike New York, actually unlike anything I'd seen so far.
I found my way back to the Nome. There was some noise in the courtyard. Alice was there, with a tall black-haired man and a little blond girl. Apparently I'd interrupted some kind of lesson, for the little girls was sitting at the desk behind the palm tree, carefully writing something the man was telling her. Alice was standing aside, smoking and watching them.
"Who are you? "
I didn't know there was another magician besides Desjardins in Sarajevo.
"Giacomo Bellini, he told me, with a little bow. At your service.
– You're from the Nome? I asked. "
I knew the Bellini family by its reputation. They usualy belonged to the Eight.
"No, I'm working for the First Nome. I'm just here to land a hand. "
This, was also quite suspicious, but magicians who worked at the First Nome mostly kept their work to themselves. Most of what they were doing was classified. The door opened and a tall bearded Jew entered. Giacomo and he had a brief exchange in Serbian.
"Sarajevo's Rabbi, said Alice after he left."
Everybody here, knows everybody.
"Balkans are a big family said Bellini. A big, very messy, family. "
Like mine, and his. I knew the Bellini name. And I knew who this man was. He was supposed to marry Jelila, but he broke up the engagement. Why would he do that? And how did he ended up working for the First Nome? He turned to the blond girl, checked her work and made a comment in a foreign tongue. Italian, I realized. He was Cesare son's, but which one? One of the youngests? I wish I'd payed more attention during father's genealogic lessons. I really tried though, but learning by heart endless lists of names was quite above my strength. Innaya was the best at it, she knew the complete ancestry of every single family in the Per Ankh.
"What has Michel said? Am I suposed to babysit you? He asked.
– I don't…
– Overwatch, not babysit, sighed Alice.
– Same here, he said. Babysit, overwatch, spoonfeed, keep alive 'till the end of the day…
– I'm not a child!
– Yeah, sure, and I'm not Italian, it's just an illusion, I'm actually Japanese.
– You're insufferable Giacomo, and yes, you're supposed to keep an eye on him, Alice interfered.
– Nice. How old are you boy?
– Fifteen.
– Combat magic, aye?
– Yes.
– I knew it! There's little variety among you. Wait wasn't you in the same class than Yasmine Abdi?
– I used to, but it was years ago!
– Yeah, time flies fast. Okay, Kane, what do you want to do? Paperwork or housework?
– I'm not a cleaning lady.
– Me neither, but you came to give us a hand, and I doubt you've already mastered the subtle art of bureaucracy. I suppose housework it is then? "
And housework it was. I spent the rest of the day dusting, washing, mopping and cleaning the Nome. Bellini was sitting in the courtyard, filling papers while insulting them very loudly in Italian, which was quite a sight. He came to me, as I was starting washing the upper floor windows.
"Kane, stop working. It's dark already. "
I left the broom there.
"You're full of surprises. I didn't think you would actually do it.
– Why wouldn't I?
– Well, the last intern we had categoricaly refused. Said the same thing you said."
I shrugged. He narrowed his eyes. I didn't know if it was a test, or so. Ancient families had a tradition of testing your humility before giving you any kind of responsabilities. At least we did, and I wouldn't be surprised that the Bellini shared some of those rules.
"Come on, dinner time now. I'm inviting you. "
And with a light dance step, he grabbed his coat and led me through Sarajevo's streets back to the place I'd found the Sem priest in the morning.
"Yaacov! Hey, I bring you someone to practice your language skill. "
A red-headed Jew, with rond little glasses, a brown suit and payots appeared from behind the counter.
"Hello, he addressed me. And who might you be?
– Uh… was all I said.
– A cousin, just answered Bellini in my stead. American. Name's Julius.
– Alright, alright he said, with his strong eastern accent.
– Can you get us some Klepe? He asked. "
Yaacov disappeared in the back room.
"We're all cousins here, Giacomo explained."
It was not so far rom the truth. I turned my head and saw the little blond girl sitting next to the mustached man that had helped me find my way in the morning.
"Well, well, how was your first day so far.
– I just cleaned the Nome."
Alice sat besides Giacomo.
"Day's already over I haven't done anything yet, she complained.
– Well, you are fortunate. I almost burned the bloody income statement for the First Nome. Out of spite. "
Yaacov returned with spicy meat sipplings dipped in yoghurt.
"What's to drink? And where's Tchokola?
– Inside the kitchen.
– Tchokola? Where's your Zigeuner's ass? Ah, I see you. "
Giacomo climbed the counter to go behind the bar. Nobody even glanced at him. Locals must have got used to his frantics.
"The Nome owns this place explained Alice.
– How so?
– Cash, said Giacomo. The establishment is rather profitable. Thanks to Alice of course."
That's when I realized from where I knew her.
"You are…
- Oh, you know her? I don't know why, I imagined your family only listening to Mozart and Bach, or something.
– We have a disc of you. I didn't know you lived in Sarajevo. "
A man came from the kitchen, probably Tchokola. That one was a giant. He had a golden earing and a bright red shirt. Gypsy, I thought. This place looks like the beginning of a joke.
"My sisters coming down here next week, he announced. She's in Montenegro. Her son's getting married.
– Damn it, what a lucky girl then. He's a fine youth! "
The blond girl came to us and asked my guide:
"Klepe! Posso averne un po 'per favore.
– Tu la gâtes Giacomo.
– Oui, mais c'est ma princesse, elle a tous les droits. "
I looked around. All kinds of people were sitting there, chatting. Someone was playing a klezmer tune on an old piano. A group of people sang along. Most of them didn't look exactly like regular mortals, but like a various crowd of rogues and strange spirits. I could see a bunch of Nome hoppers sitting by a veiled window, all wearing Egyptian amulets. One of them had a large khopesh hanging at his side. Their faces covered in scars, they looked more like highwaymen than members of the Per Ankh.
The mustached man joined us, said some words to Yaacov, nodded to me and left the room. Meanwhile Giacomo was feeding the little girl sitting right on the counter.
"Miloš, clarified Alice. He can be a bit… strange. But he's a close friend, and the best Nome guardian you can hope for.
– Is he… Egyptian?
– Not at all, father's a Slavic god. "
I almost choked on my klepe.
"Too much information Alice, said quietly Giacomo.
– Is it so?
– Look at the poor boy. Welcome to Sarajevo. "
The little girl looked at me like I was some kind of weird animal.
"And you should better get used to it, added Bellini. Lots of Pantheons in the region, lots of weirdness, little space for everyone. Not to mention Setne's former allies of course. The little shit had no embarrassment in using everything he found, all religions combined.
– What about him? Do you know if they've found something? Desjardins and the Serbian Nome I mean.
– If they do, we'll join them in Belgrade.
– Me too?
– Yes, you too Julius. You're more obedient, and less fatuous than the last one. That makes less chances of you stupidly dying in a horrenduous and painful way. Which is more convenient for us, I must say. "
A man interrupted him. He was one of those Nome hoppers sitting by the window, the one with a crocodile amulet. A large scar overlayed his left orbit, where the eye should have been. Giacomo wa trying to open a bottle of red wine and didn't raised his head.
"Bellini, where's the Sem priest?
– Belgrade, he said, eyes fixed on the bottle.
– Helping out the Oldman?
– Yup. "
Oldman… He was probably making reference to Boris Sultic, head of the Serbian Nome. The lack of respect in his tone threw me aback.
"Will he get back soon?
– That depends.
– On what?
– On a lot of things."
The cork came out with a pop.
"You'd better wait for him in Dubrovnik, in a week. He'll certainly be there, he must meet with some Roman Patricians.
– Hard to talk to the one in charge around here.
– Well, he's a busy man, unlike you. "
The man then noticed my presence. He recognized me instantly. Most people did, apparently we had singular features.
"What's a Kane doing here?
– Working and making himself useful unlike you again. The rest is none of your business.
– Well thank you for your time."
His hoarse voice had an ironic tone.
"Always happy to help!"
He walked away.
"Are you trying to give Jeanne and Julius lessons of rudeness and unfriendliness? Alice scolded him.
– I like Nome hoppers, I just happen not to like that one very much.
– You have a lot of them?
– It's a bit like the Far West for the House here. Nome hoppers tend to hang out in smaller lessknown, crazier Nomes. There's your answer.
– What don't you like about this one? Asked Alice.
– Gut feeling he just shrugged.
– You have gut feelings for everyone. You had gut feelings against me at first, remember?
– Yeah and I was right, no? Hey, relax Al', you may be a disaster magnet, but you're my disaster magnet. "
After the dinner, Giacomo took me back to the Nome and showed me the stairs.
"They are guest's rooms in the Nome. You can use them. I'll be there too, in case of.
– All right."
He left me there, sat in the courtyard and lit up a cigarette. I went to bed, exhausted, though it took me a long time to fall asleep, as usual. In the middle of the night, I felt a hand on my shoulder and woke up startled.
"Who's there?
– Hush, it's me Bellini. They've found our guy. War council in Beograd, now. "
I put on my clothes as fast as I could. Giacomo was waiting for me outside. He led me to the Bosna, the local river.
"It's the fastest way."
He showed me a little Egyptian boat hidden in the reeds.
"The Bosna flows to the Sava, that meets the Danube where Beograd is."
We sat on the boat, and it sailed at a medium speed.
"We're not gowing through the Duat?
– Santa Maria, do you have any idea how difficult it is to build a boat that sails through the Duat? We'll just speed it up a little."
My father had such a boat, but of course, I should have thought it wasn't that common. We arrived in Belgrade after sunrise. The city was made of white stones. The Nome was located in the center of the city, inside a small XVIIIth century city-house.
"It used to be inside the citadel, but it became impractical with time, explained Giacomo. "
He said a sentence in what I guessed was something akin old slavonnic, and we entered. We climbed a huge marble staircase and entered a drawing room. Across a wooden table, the Romanian guy that I was supposed to meet in Cairo before going to Sarajevo, Matei Didilescu, and who never bothered to show up, was arguing with Desjardins. An old man sitting on his left, probably the leader of the Belgrade Nome, showed something on a map. Some scrying bol on the table was showing the face of a small and angry dark-haired man. "Albania" said Bellini. I noded, unsure of what was going on. An Asian woman in a high-backed chair, wearing a red Caucasian coat. She looked familiar. Anna Menshikova, I remembered. I'd seen her once in Heliopolis. The woman was staring right at me.
"Kane boy… What brings you here?"
All eyes instantly turned on us.
"Internship." briefly said Desjardins, his eyes still on the map.
The old Serbian magician, threw back his head and burst in laughter. Menshikova narrowed her eyes and had a cat-like smile.
"Well, that's a pretty little spy you've got yourself here, Frantsuz!"
I reddened. Giacomo had a wild grin, and gave me a hard pat on the shoulder
"Leave him be Anna, and you Boris, stop it, that's enough." Desjardins said, annoyed. He looked like he hadn't got any sleep in years.
"Just saying, shrugged the woman in red.
– Well, what are you doing here? I snapped. You're far from the Eighteenth.
– Just giving a hand, nurturing the pan-Slavic Brotherhood, you know, this kind of diplomatic bullshit.
– Is that even a thing?"
Boris Sultic added something provocative in Russian, Menchikova busted back. Matei Didilescu answered someting to the Albanian guy, still yelling inside the bowl.
"Do I have to strangle you all? Asked the French one.
– Desjardins! said Albania. I don't have the day! How many men are needed?
– Call the Fifth, said Sultic, we don't need those mountain clowns.
– Yes, but we certainly don't want Greeks roaming around, Bellini immediately pouted. If he's a demigod, they might betray us.
– Nonsense, said Sultic, nationality and pantheon are two different things.
– I can try to reach Bucarest again, proposed Didilescu. They have a guy in Timisoara.
– Why call someone? Said Anna Menchikova. You have me.
– Like that's a relief I muttered.
– Excuse me? She said.
– Okay, all of you, shut up now!
– Sorry mio caro, you've just discovered the chaotic potential of putting a Menshikov and Kane in the same room. No need for chaos spell anymore, they'll bring you civil war."
Bellini walked to him and patted gently his shoulder. I couldn't find the link between those two. Anna rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Tengri, I didn't miss you Bellini. You're late by the way.
– It's been quite a while, Anna. I know, you missed my beautiful face and scornful sneer.
Desjardins finished talking in Serbian to the Albanian dude. Meanwhile, Didilescu explained us the situation. Apparently they had been chasing for month, Setne's main former associate, who was back in the country. He had been spotted by an Albanian magician somewhere in Kosovo. The bowl-conversation with the Albanian leader, had turned sour when he'd started yelling at the Serb magician about some crap that happened centuries ago.
"He's been spotted. At last! In the Prokletije, said Didilescu to us.
– The accursed Mountains, translated Menshikova. How ironic. "
Didilescu gave her a hateful look. His own father was the first one send to take over the Nome in Sarajevo after the war, and had found death there. I suppose he was blaiming the Russians for his death. The whole tragedy started after the 18th Nome's were failure to capture Setne, though they'd tracked him for month. But somehow, Menshikov let him slip away, and then, all Europe plunged into war, after one single bullet shot through the Archiduke's heart.
Finally, Desjardins and the Albanian man came to some kind of agreement, as the face disappeared from the bowl.
"Good riddance muttered Sultic.
– I'll go to Tirana first, explained Desjardins. Ismaïl can't join us right now, he is worried some of his Nome members have been bribed.
– What, like with money? I jumped
– Money, or favors, yes.
– But that's corruption, I exclaimed.
– Oh, Kane, said the Italian. Little do you know… How refreshing!
– We can't attack him upfront, we must locate his fortress and see his defences.
– We'll scout first then, said Menchikova. Bellini, ready for a hunt? Hope you won't disappoint me this time.
– You're hurting my feelings! When have I ever let you down?
– You were the worst student I've ever had.
– That was like ages ago! I've changed.
– Yes, and not for the best.
– You should take the boy with you, interfered Boris Sultic. Let him see the countryside.
– It's not a touristic trip, Borya, grunted Desjardins.
– Oh, come on! He obviously need some fresh air. Look how sickly thin he is!
– Giacomo? Asked Desjardins.
– Why not, he yawned. He doesn't do paperwork anyway.
– I am definitely not travelling with Jabari's baby son, protested Anna. I was raised in a Setian family. Whatever happens will always be my fault."
Then, Didilescu did try to explain Desjardins that a Kane with two red magicians was the worst possible idea, but he just shrugged and answered with his now usual I don't care.
Anna and Giacomo decided to catch the train that was living at noon, in two hours. Desjardins finished settling some matters with Sultic, and met us near the door. He handed me a flask and a piece of paper.
"Julius, take this. Healing potion and documents. In case mortals ask you question. "
I took the glass bottle and the passeport.
"Be careful, this is not what you are used to. Have you ever been doing field work?
– No, I admitted.
– Listen to what Giacomo and Anna say, they seem bonkers but they know what they are doing.
– Yes sir.
– And you, leave him be. You are the fucking adults, remember you?
– Yes, yes, sighed Giacomo.
– Watch over him.
– Sure.
– Stay with them all the time, don't go away, he then turned to me.
– Okay.
– And don't take any risks.
– Of course I won't…
– Especially in the mountains. "
At some point I thought he was going to tell me not to speak to strangers, but Giacomo came from behind, grab him by the shoulder, and turned him away.
"Okay, angelo, it's good we're good. Child labour is good, child labour will be fine."
They went to the other room, where they exchanged words in Italian. They weren't so much arguing as being dramatic and theatrical. I went to the yard, Anna Menshikova was sharpening two large Cossack sabers.
"Where's Bellini?
– With Desjardins. "
An annoyed look was all I got in return. After a while they seemed good, as Giacomo emerged with a travel bag and then we were off.
That's how the weirdest week in my yet short life began. We took the train that went south to Salonique and stopped midway in south Serbia. Then we went east towards the mountains, searching for our necromancer.