Out of the Darkness

“What is it?” Talsu asked. As he picked up a pen, he looked at the paper. “A certificate of good treatment? Are you out of your mind? Why should I sign it? It’s a bloody lie.”

“Why should you sign it?” The major looked at him. “Because we won’t turn you loose if you don’t, that’s why.” He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

Talsu started to bend over the certificate, then stopped, weighing the odds. He wouldn’t have been here if the Kuusamans hadn’t leaned on King Donalitu’s government, that was plain. But, since they had. . Who owned the power here? Talsu straightened up and set down the pen. “Futter you,” he said evenly.

Behind him, the guards growled. He tensed and started to shrink in on himself, fearing he’d misjudged and earned another beating. But the major of interrogators just gave him a sour stare. “We’re well rid of you,” he declared, “and the Kuusamans are welcome to you.”

What did that mean? Before Talsu could even ask, the major gestured to the guards. They grabbed Talsu and hustled him out of the interrogation chamber. He went out through the exercise yard-blinking at the bright sun, as he always did when he first saw it-and out through the gate. He blinked again, this time at not having walls around him. Was this where. .?

It was. A ley-line caravan glided up. A couple of nondescript men, men who looked amazingly like the fellows who’d arrested him, got down from a caravan car. One of them jerked a thumb at Talsu. “This the bastard?” he asked.

“It’s him, all right,” a guard agreed. The fellows from the caravan car and the guards signed some papers. Then the guards gave Talsu a shove. He climbed up into the caravan car. So did his new keepers. The ley-line caravan slid off toward the southeast.

“Where are we going?” Talsu asked.

“Balvi,” one of the men said. “Shut up,” the other one added. He would have had no trouble working in a dungeon.

“Balvi!” Talsu exclaimed. He’d never been to the capital of Jelgava. Before his days in the army, he’d never been far from Skrunda. The mountains he’d seen and fought in then hadn’t endeared him to the idea of travel. Neither had his couple of trips to King Donalitu’s dungeons. “Why Balvi?”

“Shut up.” This time, both keepers spoke together. In casual, conversational tones more frightening than fierce menace would have been, one of them went on, “You’d be amazed how much we can make you hurt without leaving a mark on you.”

“That’s true,” the other one agreed. Talsu was willing to believe them. He sat quietly in the compartment-save for one brief trip to ease himself, during which both keepers went with him-till the ley-line caravan glided into the depot at Balvi late that afternoon. A carriage waited for them there. Talsu craned his neck for glimpses of the capital’s famous buildings. Even the royal palace was worth seeing, no matter what he thought of King Donalitu.

Once inside the carriage, Talsu risked a question: “Where are we going?”

“Kuusaman ministry,” answered one of the men with him.

“You’re their worry now,” the other one said, “and good riddance to you.”

“What do you mean?” Talsu said. “You sound like you’re throwing me out of the kingdom.”

“That’s just what we’re doing,” a keeper said. “If the slanteyes want you so bad, they’re welcome to you, as far as Jelgava is concerned.”

Talsu was still chewing on that when the carriage stopped in front of a larger, more impressive building than any Skrunda boasted. The Kuusaman banner, sky blue and sea green, flew in front of it and atop it. “Out,” the other keeper said. Talsu got out. So did his shepherds.

A couple of Kuusamans took charge of them just inside the ministry. They spoke classical Kaunian-spoke it better than Talsu or his keepers, though it was the grandfather of Jelgavan but unrelated to the islanders’ tongue. That left Talsu obscurely embarrassed. The keepers signed several leaves of paper. Talsu began to feel as if he were no more than a sack of lentils passed from one dealer to another.

With a last glower, King Donalitu’s men left the ministry. One of the Kuusamans told Talsu, “Come with me. I shall take you to Minister Tukiainen.”

“I thank you,” Talsu said in his halting classical Kaunian. “But may I not wash myself first?” Middle voice, he thought. He was increasingly conscious that he hadn’t had the chance to bathe any time lately.

After putting their heads together and talking in their own language, the Kuusamans both nodded. “Let it be as you say,” one of them replied. “But you would do well-please believe me when I say this-to bathe quickly.”

A quick bath didn’t get rid of all the grime clinging to Talsu, but did leave him smelling less like something just off the midden. The Kuusamans escorted him to Minister Tukiainen’s office. He almost didn’t notice the minister, though, for Gailisa was sitting in the office. They flew into each other’s arms. “What are you doing here?” he asked her.