Out of the Darkness

“Aye,” Skarnu said, a little impatiently. “For one thing, we’ve rehearsed it a couple of times. And, for another, I was here in the square when Simanu, powers below eat him, made a hash of things.” The collaborator had sat in the west-facing seat, but he’d had plenty of Algarvian officers and soldiers in the square to protect him from the folk whose overlord he was supposed to become.

“That whoreson,” the peasant said. “He deserved every bit of what he got, and more besides. And now, your Excellency, if you’ll excuse me. .” He got to his feet and pushed through the crowd to the edge of the square.

Two cows waited there for him, one plump and sleek, the other distinctly on the scrawny side. He led them back to Skarnu, as another peasant-or perhaps this same fellow? — had led them back to Simanu.

The new overlord was supposed to choose the scrawny cow, showing that he reserved the best for the people living in his domain. Skarnu did. Simanu hadn’t-he’d picked the fat one. Skarnu bent his head and let the peasant give him a light box on the ear, which meant he would attend to the concerns of those who lived under his lordship. Simanu, secure in the knowledge that the Algarvians backed him, hadn’t worried about anything else, and had dealt the peasant a buffet that knocked him sprawling. The riot started immediately thereafter.

He made the redheads hate him, too, Skarnu thought. They wanted peace and quiet in the Valmieran countryside, not trouble. But he was their tool, and they were stuck with him.. till his untimely demise. He’d blazed Simanu himself, which was not the way one noble usually acquired another’s domain.

Loud cheers rang out when Skarnu accepted the lean cow and the buffet. This was the way the ceremony was supposed to go. Skarnu had lived as a farmer long enough to begin to understand how much people who worked the land for a living appreciated it when things went as they were supposed to go.

Now he had to make a speech. He didn’t want to do that; he would sooner have had another box on the ear. But it was part of the ceremony, too, and so he couldn’t escape it. He stood up on that west-facing seat. An expectant hush fell.

“People of Pavilosta, people of Adutiskis, people of the countryside, I am proud to become your marquis,” he said. “I’ve lived among you. I know what sort of folk you are. I know how you never believed the redheads would rule here forever, and how you made their lives hard while they were here.”

He got a nice round of applause. And I know what a liar I am, he thought. Aye, plenty of the locals had opposed Mezentio’s men. But plenty hadn’t. Several women in the crowd still had their hair shorter than most because they’d been shorn after the Algarvians withdrew. A good many men had done a good deal of business with the occupiers. But he didn’t want to dwell on that part of the past.

“I fought the Algarvians, as you did,” he said. “Whatever I can do to protect you from your enemies, I will do. Now you may know that King Gainibu appointed me to this place. But I will also tell you that I will do whatever I can to protect you from the king, should he ever act unjustly. That’s a noble’s duty to his people, and I’ll do everything I can to meet it.”

More cheering, this louder and more enthusiastic. In the old days, nobles really were a shield against royal power-not least because dukes and counts and such didn’t care to give up any power of their own. Things weren’t so easy for the nobility nowadays; kings were stronger than they had been. But the pledge was worth making.

He made another pledge: “I won’t be a scourge on your womenfolk, however much I admire them. And I admire them so much, I married one of them.”

He waved to Merkela, and kept waving till she finally waved back. That got him a different sort of applause, warmer and more sympathetic. What went through his mind was, I’ll take whatever I can get. He hopped down from the high seat and gave the peasant who’d boxed his ear one goldpiece and three of silver. The amount was as traditional as everything else in the ceremony. He wondered how it had first been set, and how long ago. No one seemed to know.

People came up to clasp his hand, to congratulate him-and to start asking him for judgments on their problems and quarrels. Time after time, he said, “Let me find out more before I answer you.” That seemed to satisfy most of the would-be petitioners, but not all.

Merkela said, “You did very well.”

“Thanks,” Skarnu answered. “Now in another twenty years I’ll stand up there and make myself another speech. Till then, no thanks.”