Out of the Darkness

He and Merkela were both sodden with slumber when someone rapped on the bedchamber door much too early the next morning. His first coherent words were some of the harsher ones he’d picked up as a soldier. But then Valmiru’s voice came through the door: “Your pardon, my lord, milady, but King Gainibu summons you to the palace at once. A carriage awaits.”

That put a different light on things. “We’ll be down directly,” Skarnu said. He and Merkela dressed as fast as they could, dragged brushes through their hair, and hurried out to the front of the mansion, where a carriage did indeed wait. Half an hour later, they were bowing before the King of Valmiera.

“Congratulations to you both,” Gainibu said. He still looked like a man who sometimes had too much to drink, but he didn’t sound like a man who’d done it lately. Like his kingdom, he was recovering from the occupation. He went on, “I’ve been thinking about what sort of present to give you, and I believe I’ve found a good one.”

“You’re too kind, your Majesty,” Skarnu murmured. Merkela kept silent. Speaking to the king had seemed even stranger to her than marrying a noble.

Gainibu said, “The estate formerly held by the late Count Enkuru and his son, the late Count Simanu, has been adjudged forfeit to the Crown because of their treason and collaboration with the foe.” Skarnu nodded. That was the noble estate nearest Pavilosta. He’d had a good deal to do with Enkuru’s demise; he and Merkela had both had a great deal to do with killing Simanu. The king continued, “I have it in mind to raise that estate from a county to a marquisate and to confer it on the two of you. That way, I know it will stay in loyal hands. What do you say to the notion?”

Skarnu glanced at Merkela. Her eyes glowed with astonished delight. She found words now: “We say, Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

With a chuckle, Gainibu remarked. “She’s speaking for you already, is she? Well, I’m glad you’re pleased. This will also let you get away from Krasta, and from her unfortunately irregular offspring. Oh, aye, I’ve heard about that. And may I make one suggestion?” He didn’t wait for anyone’s approval before giving it: “Take as many of your household staff as care to go.”

Merkela laughed out loud at that. A little more reluctantly, so did Skarnu. He didn’t think his sister would be very happy. He also didn’t think King Gainibu cared.

For as long as he’d seen only their soldiers, Sidroc had been able to hold on to his admiration for the Algarvians. Their fighting men knew what they were doing. Even with the odds against them, as they certainly were now, footsoldiers and behemoth crews and the men who served egg-tossers and dragonfliers went about their jobs with a matter-of-fact competence he’d never seen from his own people, from the Unkerlanters, or from the Yaninans (not that that last was saying much).

Now, though, Plegmund’s Brigade was actually inside Algarve, fighting not to take the war to the Unkerlanters but to hold them out of Trapani. Sidroc and his comrades weren’t just dealing with Algarvian soldiers any more. They had to deal with Algarvian civilians, too. And Algarvian civilians, to put it mildly, left him unimpressed.

“Get your crap out of the road, lady!” he shouted to a woman who seemed intent on taking everything she owned with her as she fled east-this though she had only a tiny handcart in which to carry it all. “Get it out of the way or we’ll fornicating well kick it out of the way for you.”

The woman in question was one of the plump, middle-aged sort who make a life out of running their towns-and their neighbors’ affairs. Getting orders rather than giving them didn’t sit well with her. “I don’t know what the world is coming to,” she said, “when we have barbarians loose in the streets of our cities.”

“Futter you, lady,” Sidroc said cheerfully. “You don’t let us do what we’re supposed to be doing, King Swemmel’s boys’ll get in here. You think we’re barbarians? We’re on your side, you stupid twat. The Unkerlanters take this place, about twenty of ‘em’ll line up, and they’ll all futter you-if they don’t decide you’re too stinking ugly to waste cock on and bash in your stupid head instead.”

His squad-Forthwegians and a couple of blonds from the Phalanx of Valmiera, which had fallen on even harder times than Plegmund’s Brigade- laughed raucously. The Algarvian woman gaped as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “I shall find a civilized man,” she said, and flounced off.

She didn’t have to flounce far before finding Lieutenant Puliano. He cut her off as she started to spin her tale of woe. “Shut up,” he said. “I heard Corporal Sidroc, and I know bloody well he’s right.” He waved. “Go on through her stuff, boys. She doesn’t need it, and it’s just in the way.”