Out of the Darkness

If he chooses to fight on, he’s a madman, Lurcanio thought. That, of course, had little to do with anything. If the Algarvian commander chose to fight on, his men would keep fighting for as long as they could. Lurcanio didn’t know what good it would do, but he hadn’t known what good further fighting would do for quite a while. He didn’t want to die at this stage of the war-his goal was to be blazed by an outraged husband at the age of 103-but he knew he would go forward if ordered, or hold in place as long as he could.

The order didn’t come. Instead, that afternoon a runner announced, “General Prusione will yield up this army at sunrise tomorrow.”

“It’s over, then,” Lurcanio said dully, and the runner nodded. He looked not far from tears.

It wasn’t quite over, of course. Around Trapani and here and there in the north, the Algarvians still fought on. Surrendering to Unkerlant was different from yielding to Lagoas and Kuusamo-different and much more frightening. The Algarvians had plenty of reason to worry about how their enemy in the west would treat them once they gave up, and even about whether King Swemmel would let them give up.

But that wasn’t Lurcanio’s concern. He took a certain pride in knowing he’d made a tolerably good combat soldier. It hadn’t mattered, though. However well he’d fought, Algarve still lay prostrate.

When the sun rose, he led his men out of their holes. Lagoan soldiers relieved them of their weapons and whatever small valuables they had. Lurcanio strode into captivity with his head up.

Eleven

News-sheet vendors in Eoforwic shouted that Gromheort had fallen. Vanai cared very little about that. The vendors also shouted about the hard fighting Forthweg’s Unkerlanter allies had done. Vanai cared very little about that, either. But she did fear hard fighting in Gromheort would have taken a toll on the civilians there. She hoped Ealstan’s family had come through as well as possible.

News-sheet vendors said never a word about Oyngestun. Vanai would have been astonished if they had. Her home village, a few miles west of Gromheort, wasn’t important enough to talk about unless you lived there. She didn’t worry about her own family; her grandfather was all she’d had left, and Brivibas was dead. Vanai wasn’t particularly sorry, either. Tamulis the apothecary was the only person in the village she cared about even a little. He’d been kind to her after her grandfather took up with Major Spinello, and even after she’d had to take up with Spinello herself. But Tamulis was as much a Kaunian as she was, which meant the odds he’d come through weren’t good.

Saxburh pulled herself upright with the help of the sofa in the flat and cruised from one end to the other, holding on. As soon as she let go, she fell down. She laughed. It hadn’t hurt her a bit. Of course, she didn’t have very far to fall. She looked over at Vanai. “Mama!” she said in an imperious tone that couldn’t mean anything but, Pick me up!

“I’m your mama,” Vanai agreed, and did pick her up. Saxburh called her mama much more often than dada these days. She said a couple of other words, too-hat most often, after a cheap linen cap she loved to jam down onto her head-and a lot of things that sounded as if they ought to be words but weren’t. She was getting close to her first birthday. Vanai found that preposterously unlikely, but knew it was true.

Saxburh tried to eat her nose. That was the baby’s way of giving kisses. Vanai gave her a kiss, too, which made her squeal and giggle-and, a moment later, screw up her face and grunt. Vanai sniffed. Aye: what she thought had happened had happened.

“You’re a stinker,” she said, and set about cleaning up the mess. Saxburh didn’t like that so well. And, being more mobile than before, she kept doing her best to escape. Vanai had to hold her with one hand and wipe her bottom and put a fresh rag on her with the other. Battle won, she kissed Saxburh again and asked, “How would you like to go down to the market square with me?”

It wasn’t really a question, for Saxburh had no choice. Vanai scooped her up and stuffed her in her harness. She also scooped up some silver, grimacing as she did so. The money wouldn’t last a whole lot longer, and she didn’t know what she would do when it looked like running out. Whatever I have to do, she thought, and made another sour face.

Whatever I have to do reminded her of something else. She renewed the spell that let her look like a Forthwegian. She did that whenever she went outside these days. She couldn’t see the effect of the magic on herself, and didn’t want it wearing out where other people could see her. It was again legal to be a Kaunian, but that didn’t mean it was easy.