Out of the Darkness

“How are you today?” Valamo asked, switching to Kuusaman himself.

“I am well, thank you.” Talsu came out with another stock phrase. Then he had to fall back on classical Kaunian: “What is there for me to do today?”

“Some leggings, a cape to finish, a few other things,” Valamo said, also in the old tongue. He smiled at Talsu. “Since you taught me that wonderful charm, we get more done in less time.”

Talsu smiled back, and managed a dutiful nod. He still had mixed feelings about that charm. It was everything the Algarvian who’d taught it to his father and him said it would be. If only he hadn’t learned it from a redhead! The spell itself was surely clean, but hadn’t it grown in tainted soil?

“Well, to work,” he said, pushing down his qualms as he did almost every day. He had that bit of Kuusaman down solid; Valamo said it at any excuse or none. Talsu’s new boss was a sunnier man than his own father, but no less dedicated to doing what needed doing and making sure everyone else did, too. Talsu asked, “What do you want me to do first?” He could never go wrong there, either, even if he did have to say it in classical Kaunian.

“Do the cape,” Valamo told him. “Once you get done with that, tell me, and I will see what wants doing next.”

That was also in classical Kaunian; Talsu could answer in Kuusaman, and did: “All right.”

He was busy working on the cape-a much heavier garment than anyone in Jelgava would have worn, and one more like those he’d made for Algarvian soldiers bound for Unkerlant-when the bell above the door to Valamo’s shop chimed. When Talsu looked up, he started in alarm, for he thought the man walking into the shop was himself an Algarvian. The fellow was a tall redhead, and wore a tunic and kilt.

But he also had narrow eyes set on a slant, and wore his hair gathered in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. A Lagoan, Talsu realized, and let out a sigh of relief.

If he was a Lagoan, though, he spoke excellent Kuusaman-spoke it too fast for Talsu to follow, in fact. He blinked when Valamo turned to him and said, “He does not want to talk to me. He wants to talk to you.”

“To me?” Talsu said, startled into Jelgavan. Switching to classical Kaunian, he nodded to the newcomer. “What do you want, sir?”

“Can you follow my Valmieran?” the fellow asked. Talsu nodded; his own tongue and that of the other Kaunian kingdom in the east were close kin. “Good,” the redheaded man said. “I want you to make me a wedding suit.”

“A wedding suit?” Talsu echoed, still taken aback. Then his wits started to work. “Why me? You seem to know who I am.”

“Aye, I do,” the Lagoan answered. “You see, the woman I am marrying is named Pekka.” He waited to see if that would get a reaction from Talsu.

“Oh!” Talsu exclaimed. “Please make her happy. . ah?”

“My name is Fernao,” the Lagoan said.

“Thank you, Master Fernao,” Talsu said. “Please make her happy. I owe her so much. If it weren’t for her, I would still be sitting in a Jelgavan dungeon.”

“I translated your wife’s letter,” Fernao told him. “She had a little something to do with this, too.”

“Then I thank you, too, sir,” Talsu said. “If I had my own shop, I would be proud to make you your suit for nothing. As things are. .” He glanced over toward Valamo.

“I did not come in here for that,” Fernao said. “I can afford to pay you, and to pay your boss.”

Talsu’s boss took advantage of the pause to ask, “What is going on? I see the two of you know each other, but I cannot follow the language you use.”

He spoke in classical Kaunian. Fernao started to reply in the same language- he used it more fluently than Valamo, much more fluently than Talsu-but then switched to Kuusaman, in which he was also very quick and smooth. How many languages does he know? Talsu wondered. He wished Fernao hadn’t switched to Kuusaman; it gave him no chance to follow what was going on.

Valamo went back to classical Kaunian: “This is your friend, then?”

“I would like to think so, aye,” Talsu answered in the same tongue. “I would be honored to think so.”

“I would like to think so, too,” Fernao said. With Algarvic courtesy, he bowed. Talsu nodded in return. He’s not an Algarvian, he reminded himself. All the redheaded kingdoms have some of the same customs, and Lagoans helped free Jelgava. After seeing so much of Mezentio’s men in Skrunda, he needed the reminder.

“Good.” Valamo beamed. “Very good. A wedding suit, is it? That is very good, too. I am sure Talsu will do a splendid job. He is a clever fellow. As soon as he learns our tongue and saves up a stake, he will do very well in a shop of his own. A wedding suit.” His narrow eyes narrowed further. “Shall we speak of price now?”

“Take the price from my pay,” Talsu said. “I want to do this.”

“No, no, no.” Fernao shook his head. “I will go somewhere else before I let that happen. I want to bring you business, not to cost you money.”