Out of the Darkness

He wished he could have gone on not thinking about them, too. But, two days later, a sharp knock on the door to the flat made both him and his father look up from their work. “Sounds like business,” Traku said hopefully.

“That would be nice,” Talsu said. “I’ll find out.”

When he opened the door, there stood the Jelgavan major he’d seen before. The fellow was an inch or two shorter than Talsu, but contrived to looked down his nose at him just the same. “Am I correct in being given to understand that this is a tailor’s establishment?” he asked in haughty tones.

“That’s right. . sir,” Talsu answered. Regretfully, he added, “Won’t you please come in?”

“Good morning, sir,” Traku said when the major did stride into the flat. He sounded friendlier than Talsu had; he could hardly have sounded less friendly than his son. “What can we do for you today?”

“I require a rain cloak,” the officer said. “I require it at once, as I shall soon be going into Algarve.”

“I’ll be happy to take care of you, sir,” Traku said. “There will be a small extra charge for a rush job-I have some other business I’ll have to put aside to take care of you right away, you understand.”

“No,” the major said.

Traku frowned. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“No,” the fellow repeated. “I will not pay extra, not a copper’s worth. This is part of my uniform.”

“Sir, I’m sure you already have a uniform-issue rain cloak, just like every other officer,” Talsu said. “If you want something with a little extra style or quality, you do have to pay for it.” He’d been through the army himself; he knew what the rules were.

The Jelgavan noble looked at him as if he’d just found him in his peach. “Who are you to tell me what I must do and must not do?” he demanded. “How dare you show such cheek?”

“Your Excellency, even officers have regulations,” Talsu said.

“Do you want my business, or do you not?” the major said.

Talsu’s father spoke reasonably: “Sir, if you want me to put your business in front of everybody else’s, you’re going to have to pay for that, because it’ll mean other people’s clothes won’t get made as fast as they’d like.” It probably wouldn’t mean that. It would mean he and Talsu would have to work extra long hours to get the other orders done on time. Keeping things simple, though, seemed best.

“Other people?” The noble snorted. He plainly wasn’t used to the idea of worrying about whether what he did bothered anyone else. “Do these ‘other people’ of yours have the high blood in their veins?”

“Aye, sir, a couple of ‘em do,” Traku said stolidly.

And that, to Talsu’s amazement, turned the major reasonable in the blink of an eye. “Well, that’s different,” he said, still sounding gruff, but not as if he were about to accuse the two tailors of treason. “If it is a matter of inconveniencing folk of my own class. .” He cared nothing about inconveniencing commoners. Bothering other nobles, though-that mattered to him. “How large a fee did you have in mind?”

Traku named one twice as high as he’d ever charged an Algarvian for a rush job. The Jelgavan noble accepted it without a blink. He didn’t blink at the price Traku set for the rain cape, either. Maybe he had more money than he knew what to do with. Maybe-and more likely, Talsu judged-he just had no idea of what things were supposed to cost.

All he said on his departure was, “See that it’s ready on time, my good men.” And then he swept out, as if he’d been the king honoring a couple of peasants with the glory of his presence.

After the door closed, Traku said something under his breath. “I’m sorry, Father?” Talsu said. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I said, it’s no wonder some of our own people went off and fought on the Algarvian side after King Donalitu came back. That overbred son of a whore and all the others like him don’t make the redheads look like such a bad bargain.”

“I’ve had that same thought a time or two-more than a time or two- myself,” Talsu replied. “Aye, he’s one overbred son of a whore. But he’s our over-bred son of a whore, if you know what I mean. He won’t haul us off by the hundreds to kill us for the sake of our life energy.”

His father sighed. “You’re right. No doubt about it, you’re right. But if that’s the best we can say for him-and it fornicating well is-it’s pretty cold praise, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course it is,” Talsu said. “But it’s no surprise, or it shouldn’t be one. Remember, you’ve just had nobles for customers. I’ve had them for commanders. I know what they’re like.” He almost said, I know what’s wrong with them. Even if he didn’t say it, it was what he meant.

“But the redheads have nobles, too,” Traku said. “These Kuusamans have them. They must. But they don’t act like their shit doesn’t stink the way ours do. Why is that? Why are we stuck with a pack of bastards at the top?”

“I don’t know,” Talsu said. He didn’t know any Jelgavans who did know, either. He grinned wryly. “Because we’re lucky, I guess.”