Out of the Darkness

Captain Sasso nodded. He wasn’t much older than Bembo; well-founded rumor said he’d gained his fancy rank by knowing to whom to say aye at any given moment. “I’m sure you are,” he replied. “But there are certain. formalities you have to go through first.”

The sergeant had spoken of jumping through hoops. Now Sasso talked about formalities. “Like what, sir?” Bembo asked cautiously.

“You went west,” Sasso said.

“Aye, sir, of course I did,” Bembo replied. Sasso was the one who’d sent him west, along with Pesaro and Oraste and several other constables.

“We have orders from the occupying powers that no man who went west is to serve as a constable before he goes through an interrogation by one of their mages,” Captain Sasso said. “The penalties for going against that particular order are nastier than I really want to think about.”

“What kind of interrogation? What for?” Bembo was honestly confused.

Captain Sasso made a steeple of his fingertips and spelled things out for him: “The occupying powers don’t want anyone who was involved with whatever may have happened in the west with the Kaunians to do any kind of work that entails the trust of the kingdom. You have to understand, Bembo-it’s not up to me. I didn’t give the order. I’m only following it.”

Bembo grunted. He’d only followed orders in the west. Were they going to punish him for it now? And how nasty would this interrogation prove? Every time he thought about that dreadful old Kuusaman wizard, his heart stuttered in his chest. That whoreson had been able to look all the way down to the bottom of his soul. He didn‘t spit in my face, Bembo reminded himself. Quite.

He steadied himself. “Bring on the cursed wizards. I’m ready for ‘em.”

Sasso blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Bembo answered. “Either they’ll let me back in or they won’t. If they don’t, how am I worse off than I would be if I didn’t try at all?”

“A point,” the constabulary captain admitted. “You have nerve, don’t you?”

“Sir, I have the balls of a burglar.” Bembo grinned at Sasso. “I nailed ‘em to the wall of my flat, and the burglar’s talked like this”-he raised his voice to a high falsetto squeak-”ever since.”

Captain Sasso laughed. “All right. You’ll get the chance to prove it. Come along with me. I’ll take you to the mage. Do you know any classical Kaunian?”

“Only a little,” Bembo said. “I’m like most people-they tried to thrash it into me at school, and I forgot it as soon as I escaped.”

“Escaped?” Sasso got up from his desk. “You’ve got a way with words, too. Thinking back, I remember that. How many of the reports you filed before the war were nothing but wind and air?” Before Bembo could answer, the captain shook his head. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Just come on.”

“Where are we going?” Bembo asked. “If the stinking Kuusamans want to deal with constables, don’t they have a wizard here?”

“Powers above, no!” Captain Sasso said. “We go to them. They don’t come to us-they won the fornicating war. But I don’t dare not go to them, powers below eat ‘em all. Like I said, if they find out I’ve hired anybody who isn’t checked …” He let out a hiss to show what was likely to happen to him.

“Ah,” Bembo said. “All right.” If we have to go somewhere else for this, that explains why Saffa didn’t know about it and warn me.

The Kuusaman garrison-to which a few Jelgavan soldiers and officials were also attached-was headquartered not far from Tricarico’s central plaza. The Jelgavans acted as if Bembo and Sasso were beneath their notice. The Kuusamans simply dealt with them. Jelgava had lost its share of the war; Kuusamo had won its. Bembo wondered what that said about the two kingdoms. Actually, he didn’t wonder. He had a pretty good idea what it said-nothing good about King Donalitu’s realm.

To his relief, the Kuusaman mage who questioned him turned out to speak fluent Algarvian. “So,” the fellow said. “You used to be a constable, and you want to be a constable again? And in between times you were. where? Answer truthfully.” He made a couple of passes at Bembo. “I will know if you lie-and if you do, you will not be a constable again.”

Bembo wondered whether to believe him. An Algarvian would not have phrased the warning so baldly. But Bembo had seen that Kuusamans didn’t indulge in flights of fancy, as his own countrymen delighted in doing. Besides which, he saw no point in lying here. “I was in Gromheort, and later in Eoforwic. I fought against the Forthwegian uprising there, and I was wounded when the Unkerlanters flung eggs into the place at the start of their big attack.”

“I see,” the slant-eyed mage said neutrally. “This is all very interesting, but not very important.”

“It is to me,” Bembo said. “It was my leg.”