“All right.” Garivald trudged on along the path. When he looked back over his shoulder, Obilot stood in the middle of the road, cradling her stick in a way that said she’d used it many times before and was ready to use it again if anyone bothered her.
But Garivald was looking ahead, eagerly looking ahead, when he rounded that last bend. Obilot was behind him now, in the path and in the past. Ahead of him lay the field he and his fellow peasants worked and …
Nothing.
When he looked to where the village had stood, nothing was what he saw. The Algarvians must have made a stand here. Not a house still stood: not his hut, not Waddo the firstman’s two-story home, not his friend Dagulf’s. None. The buildings of Zossen—the houses, the smithy, the tavern—were erased as if they had never been.
The people? His wife? His son and daughter? Maybe they’d fled. He shook his head. He knew what the odds were. Far more likely—likely almost to the point of certainty—they’d died with their village.
He was still standing, still staring, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned. Obilot came up and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Now you have nothing, too, just like me.”
“Aye.” Garivald’s voice was still dull with shock. He and Obilot stood side by side surveying the devastation, both their lives in ruin.
Vanai was cooking rabbit stew with prunes and dried mushrooms when Ealstan gave the coded knock at their door. She hurried over to unbar it and let him in. When she did, his face glowed with excitement. That made her smile, too. She kissed him and then asked, “What’s happened? Something has. I can see it.”
“You’ll never guess,” he said.
She looked at him in amused annoyance. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”
“You know how Herborn’s fallen to the Unkerlanters,” he said.
“Oh, aye.” Vanai nodded. “The news sheets finally admitted that a couple of days ago, when they couldn’t not admit it anymore, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s right—and the Algarvians and Plegmund’s stinking Brigade were going to chase the Unkerlanters out again any minute now. I lose track of the lies sometimes,” Ealstan said. “Well, Pybba knows more than the news sheets do. For instance, had you heard the Unkerlanters caught King Mezentio’s cousin Raniero, the fellow he’d named King of Grelz?”
“No!” Vanai kissed Ealstan again, this time for bringing home such wonderful news. “What are they going to do to him?” To her way of thinking—Brivibas’ way of thinking, too, but her grandfather never entered her mind—the Unkerlanters were barbarous enough to be capable of anything.
“They’ve already done it,” Ealstan told her. “That’s the real news. They held a ceremony in Herborn and boiled him alive.”
“Oh.” For once, the lurch Vanai’s stomach gave had nothing to do with her pregnancy. “That’s …” She didn’t know quite what it was. “I wouldn’t wish it on …” Why wouldn’t you wish it on an Algarvian? she wondered. You’ve wished plenty of worse things on them, and what they’ve done to your own folk makes them deserve every one. “Good riddance,” she said at last.
“Aye, just so,” Ealstan said. “That’s how they serve up rebels. And they slaughter their own folk when … to strike back at the Algarvians.”
When the Algarvians slaughter Kaunians, he hadn’t said, even if he’d started to. He tried to spare her feelings. And Forthwegians looked down on their cousins to the west hardly less than the Kaunians of Forthweg did. The only difference was, the Kaunians of Forthweg looked down on the Forthwegians, too.
Ealstan went into the kitchen and came back with two mugs of wine. He handed Vanai one and raised the other in a toast: “Down with Algarve!” He drank.
“Down with Algarve!” Vanai would always drink to that. The mere idea made any wine sweeter.
Over supper, Ealstan said, “One of these days before too long, Swemmel’s men are bound to strike blows in the north to match the ones they’re making down in Grelz.”
“Is that something else Pybba knows but the news sheets don’t?” Vanai asked.
He shook his head. “No. I wish it were. But it stands to reason, doesn’t it? They’ll want to run the redheads out of all of their kingdom, not just part of it.”
“If they do run them out of Unkerlant, they’ll run them back into Forthweg—and then they’ll come after them,” Vanai said. “That stands to reason, too.”
“Aye.” To her surprise, Ealstan didn’t look so happy about it. He explained why: “We don’t get rid of our occupiers. We only trade one set for another.”
“It’s a good trade,” Vanai said. Ealstan nodded, but with something less than full enthusiasm. It would certainly be a good trade for Forthweg’s surviving Kaunians; the Unkerlanters didn’t much care about Kaunianity one way or the other. But an Unkerlanter occupation might not be such a good trade for the Forthwegians themselves. The men of Swemmel’s kingdom liked them no better than they liked Unkerlanters.
Wistfully, Ealstan said, “It would be nice if King Penda could just come back.”
Vanai reached across the table and set her hand on his. “Aye, it would,” she said, giving him—and Penda—the benefit of the doubt as he’d given it to the idea of an Unkerlanter occupation.
As she was washing the supper dishes, Ealstan came up behind her and began to caress her. “Be careful,” she warned him.
“I am,” he said, and he was. Vanai had trouble concentrating on the dishes. Her breasts had grown more tender since she’d started expecting a baby, but they’d also grown more sensitive. After a little while, she decided the dishes could wait She turned and put her arms around Ealstan.
Forthwegian-style tunics were easier to get out of than the short tunics and trousers she’d worn back in Oyngestun. Certain post-imperial Kaunian writers had used that truth to sneer at the morals of Forthwegian women. Back in the bedchamber, Vanai simply found it convenient.
Afterwards, she rubbed her upper lip; Ealstan’s mustache had tickled her when their lips clung while they made love. “I’m happy with you,” he said.
“Good,” she answered. “I’m happy with you, too.” She kissed him again, careless of that vicious mustache. She meant it. The accursed Algarvian officer who’d introduced her to what passed between man and woman might have been—probably had been—more skilled in this and that than Ealstan was. But so what? It wasn’t even that Spinello hadn’t wanted her to have pleasure. He had—so her pleasure could give him more. But his own delight came first, always. Ealstan wanted to give her pleasure for her sake, not his. He might have given a little less, but she took ever so much more.
Spinello went off to Unkerlant, she reminded herself. With any luck at all, he’s dead, horribly dead, or else crippled or in torment from his wounds. A lot of Algarvian officers go to Unkerlant. Not so many come back in one piece.
“What are you thinking?” Ealstan asked. He would do that every once in a while, after lovemaking or just out of the blue.
Usually, Vanai felt obligated to answer with the truth. Tonight, she gave him only part of it: “I love you.”
As she’d known it would be, that was the part he wanted to hear. He squeezed her to him. “I’m glad,” he said. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
You’d be back in Gromheort with your family, she thought. If you weren’t already married to some Forthwegian girl, you’d be pledged to one. You’re too good a catch not to be. I ought to know.
But where would I be without you? Maybe I would have lasted long enough in the Kaunian district in Gromheort to come up with the spell that lets Kaunians look like Forthwegians. Maybe. Or maybe somebody else would have come up with it by now. Maybe. She tried to make herself believe either of those things. It wasn’t easy. Odds are, Mezentio’s men would have shipped me west. I wouldn’t be here worrying about it. I wouldn’t be anywhere at all.
She clung to Ealstan. “I’m very lucky,” she said.
He squeezed her agai
n, this time till she could hardly breathe. “You make me lucky,” he said. Vanai didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at that. It was absurd, but magnificently absurd. The baby kicked. “I felt that!” Ealstan exclaimed, which was hardly surprising, considering how tight he held her. “He’s getting stronger.”
“That’s what he’s supposed to do,” Vanai answered. “He’s getting bigger, too.” She rolled away from Ealstan and onto her back, then lifted her head so she could look at herself. Her belly definitely bulged now. Pretty soon, even her baggy Forthwegian tunics wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy any more. “And so am I.”
He set his hand on the swelling below her navel. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, too.” Before very long, his hand wandered lower. He was still young enough to be able to make love about as often as the thought crossed his mind.
As he began to stroke her, Vanai said, “This is how my belly started getting big in the first place.”
Laughing, Ealstan shook his head. “My hand had nothing to do with that.” But, what with what followed, Vanai wasn’t wrong, either. Both of them slept soundly that night.
When they woke, it was later in the morning than usual. Vanai wasn’t surprised when Ealstan told her her sorcerous disguise had slipped. She repaired it while he gobbled bread and almonds and wine for breakfast. “Is everything all right?” she asked when she finished the spell.
He nodded. “Fine,” he said with his mouth full. “Pybba’s going to burst like an egg if I don’t get to work on time.”
“No, he won’t,” Vanai said. “He knows you do good work, and he knows you do plenty of work, too. You just take him too seriously when he starts roaring and bellowing.”
“If you’d listened to him roaring and bellowing as much as I have, you’d take him seriously, too.” Ealstan dug a finger into one ear, as if to say listening to Pybba had left him half deaf. From her own brief meeting with the pottery magnate, Vanai could readily believe that. Ealstan gave her a quick kiss tasting of wine and hurried out the door. She rolled her eyes. He talked about listening to Pybba, but he hadn’t listened to her.
She ate her own breakfast at a more leisurely clip. Then she put some silver in her handbag and went downstairs. Her thoughts of the evening before convinced her she needed a couple of new tunics, cut even more loosely than the ones she already owned. Forthwegian women just didn’t display the contours of their bodies. If she was to seem a proper Forthwegian woman, she couldn’t, either.
Down on the streets, news-sheet vendors shouted out their headlines. They still said nothing about King Raniero boiled alive. Their cry was, “Algarvian drive toward Herborn storms on! Plegmund’s brave Brigade spearheads assault!” Vanai did not buy a news sheet.
She did buy a couple of tunics in a linen-wool blend. They would do for any but very cold days, and she could wear a cloak over them then. Picking colors was harder than it had been before she donned a Forthwegian appearance, and took a while. Forthwegians could and did wear stronger colors than she would have chosen while she still looked like her fair-haired Kaunian self. The shopgirl seemed to mean it when she particularly praised the green of one tunic, which left Vanai pleased with herself as she headed back to the flat with her purchases.
She didn’t have far to go, but she’d got less than halfway when she noticed people staring at her. She wondered why, but not for more than a couple of strides. Then panic seized her. The spell must have worn off, leaving her looking like what she really was. In Eoforwic these days, what she really was could easily prove fatal.
Vanai began to run. Only a couple of blocks to the flat. If she could just get inside … She hurried past the apothecary’s where she dared not stop anymore, rounded a corner—and almost ran over two Algarvian constables.
They were startled, but not too startled to grab her. “Well, well, what having we here?” one of them said. But he knew. They both knew too well. “You coming with us, Kaunian. Magic not working, eh? You arresting.” Vanai screamed and kicked and clawed, but she couldn’t get away. And no one on the street tried to help her. No one at all. Somehow, that was the worst of it.
Dramatis Personae
(* shows viewpoint character)
ALGARVE
Almonio Constable in Gromheort
Ambaldo Colonel of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Baiardo Mage attached to Plegmund’s Brigade
Balastro Marquis; minister to Zuwayza
Bembo* Constable in Gromheort
Carietto Brigadier in Trapani
Domiziano Captain of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Ercole Senior lieutenant with Plegmund’s Brigade
Fronesia Woman at court in Trapani
Frontino Warder in Tricarico
Gastable Mage in Gromheort
Gismonda Sabrino’s wife in Trapani
Gradasso Lurcanio’s adjutant in Priekule
Lurcanio Colonel on occupation duty in Priekule
Mainardo Mezentio’s brother; King of Jelgava
Malindo Scholar in Trapani
Mezentio King of Algarve
Oraste Constable in Gromheort
Orosio Captain of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Pesaro Constabulary sergeant in Gromheort
Raniero Mezentio’s cousin; King of Grelz
Sabrino* Colonel of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Saffa Sketch artist in Tricarico
Solino General in Durrwangen
Spinello* Major on leave in Trapani for wound
Turpino Captain in Wriezen
Zerbino Captain in Plegmund’s Brigade
FORTHWEG
Baldred Slogan writer in Eoforwic
Brivibas Kaunian in Gromheort; Vanai’s grandfather
Brorda Count of Gromheort
Ceorl Soldier in Plegmund’s Brigade near Hohenroda
Daukantis Kaunian in Gromheort; Doldasai’s father
Doldasai Kaunian courtesan in Gromheort
Ealstan* Bookkeeper in Eoforwic; Vanai’s husband
Ethelhelm Half Kaunian band leader in Eoforwic
Feliksai Kaunian in Gromheort; Doldasai’s mother
Gippias Kaunian robber in Gromheort
Hengist Sidroc’s father; Hestan’s brother; in Gromheort
Hestan Bookkeeper in Gromheort; Ealstan’s father
Leofsig Ealstan’s deceased brother
Nemunas Kaunian refugee leader in Zuwayza
Penda King of Forthweg
Pernavai Kaunian in Valmiera; Vatsyunas’ wife
Pybba Pottery magnate in Eoforwic
Sidroc* Soldier in Plegmund’s Brigade near Hohenroda
Vanai* Kaunian in Eoforwic; Ealstan’s wife
Vatsyunas Kaunian in Valmiera; Pernavai’s husband
Vitols Kaunian refugee leader in Zuwayza
Werferth Sergeant in Plegmund’s Brigade near Hohenroda
Yadwigai Kaunian girl with Algarvian army in Unkerlant
GYONGYOS
Arpad Ekrekek (King) of Gyongyos
Borsos Major; mage in western Unkerlant
Frigyes Captain in western Unkerlant
Hevesi Soldier in western Unkerlant
Horthy Gyongyosian minister to Zuwayza
Istvan* Sergeant in western Unkerlant
Kun Corporal in western Unkerlant; minor mage
Lajos Soldier in western Unkerlant
Szonyi Soldier in western Unkerlant
Tivadar Captain in western Unkerlant
JELGAVA
Ausra Talsu’s sister in Skrunda
Donalitu King of Jelgava; now in exile
Gailisa Talsu’s wife, living in Skrunda
Kugu Silversmith in Skrunda
Laitsina Talsu’s mother in Skrunda
Stikliu Friend of Talsu’s in Skrunda
Talsu* Prisoner from Skrunda
Traku Talsu’s father; tailor in Skrunda
Zverinu Banker in Skrunda
Kuusamo
Alkio Theoret
ical sorcerer; married to Raahe
Elimaki Pekka’s sister
Ilmarinen Master mage in the Naantali district
Juhainen One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Leino Mage; Pekka’s husband
Linna Serving woman in the Naantali district
Olavin Banker; Elimaki’s husband
Parainen One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Pekka* Mage in the Naantali district; Leino’s wife
Piilis Theoretical sorcerer
Raahe Theoretical sorcerer; married to Alkio
Renavall One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Siuntio Master mage in the Naantali district
Uto Pekka and Leino’s son
Vihti Sorcerer in Naantali district
LAGOAS
Brinco Grandmaster Pinhiero’s secretary in Setubal
Fernao* Mage on duty in Kuusamo
Janira Cornelu’s lady friend in Setubal
Pinhiero Grandmaster of Lagoan Guild of Mages
Vitor King of Lagoas
ORTAH
Ahinadab King of Ortah
Hadadezer Ortaho minister to Zuwayza
SIBIU
Balio father Fisherman running eatery in Setubal; Janira’s
Brindza Cornelu’s daughter in Tirgoviste town
Burebistu King of Sibiu
Cornelu* Commander; leviathan-rider in Setubal
Costache Cornelu’s wife in Tirgoviste town
UNKERLANT
Addanz Archmage of Unkerlant
Ascovind Collaborator in Duchy of Grelz
Gandiluz Soldier contacting irregulars in Grelz
Garivald* Irregular fighter west of Herborn
Gundioc Captain in southern Unkerlant
Rulers of the Darkness Page 74
