Out of the Darkness

“Passion indeed,” Hajjaj said-one more dangerous exercise of it. “And I fear you are right there, too, as you usually are.”

The majordomo made a self-deprecating gesture. Inside, though, he would be preening. Hajjaj had known him all his own life, and was sure of it. But his praise of Tewfik hadn’t been hypocritical. Had the Unkerlanters wanted to avenge themselves on Zuwayza as they were avenging themselves on Algarve, he might have been blazed alongside Balastro.

He wondered why Swemmel was so much more intent on punishing the redheads. Maybe there was some sense in Unkerlant that the Zuwayzin had had good reason for waging the war they did. After all, the Unkerlanters had invaded Zuwayza before the war with Algarve started. King Shazli owed them as much revenge as he could get, and if he lined up with the Algarvians to grab it, then he did, that was all.

Or maybe I’m imagining things, Hajjaj thought. If I’m giving Swemmel a sense of justice, that’s bound to be senility creeping up on me.

“If I may make a suggestion, sir?” Tewfik said.

“By all means,” Hajjaj said.

“You really should get the roofers out here, sir, before the fall rainy season begins,” the majordomo said. “If the powers above be kind, they may perhaps find some leaks before the rain makes them obvious.”

“And if they don’t find any, they’ll start some, to give them business later.” Hajjaj hated roofers.

“Chance we take,” said Tewfik, who did not admire them, either. “If we don’t have them out, though, the rain is bound to show us where the holes are.”

“You’re right, of course,” Hajjaj said. “Why don’t you see to it, then?”

“I’ll do that, sir,” Tewfik said. “I expect they’ll be out in the next few days.” Ancient and bent, he shuffled away.

Hajjaj stared after him. What exactly was that last supposed to mean? Had the majordomo already summoned the roofers, and was he getting retroactive permission for it? That was what it sounded like. Hajjaj shrugged. He’d run Zuwayza’s foreign affairs for a generation, aye. Tewfik had been running this household a lot longer than that.

What will happen when he finally falls over dead? Hajjaj wondered. His shoulders went up and down in another shrug. He wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find Tewfik outlasting him. The majordomo seemed as resistant to change as the hills outside Bishah.

For a moment, that thought cheered Hajjaj. Then he frowned. What would happen to these hills if someone unleashed on them the appalling sorcery the Kuusamans and Lagoans had used against Gyorvar? Nothing good: Hajjaj was sure of that. The more he heard about that spell, the more it frightened him. He’d thought the first reports to come in to Bishah no more than frightened exaggerations, but they’d proved less than the dreadful reality. He’d never before known rumor to fall behind truth.

He’d heard Minister Horthy’s aides had had to keep watch on the Gyongyosian minister day and night, to make sure he didn’t slay himself. Hajjaj didn’t know whether that was true; he did know Horthy hadn’t been seen in public since Gyongyos surrendered to the islanders and to Unkerlant.

He sighed. So many things that had once seemed as changeless as these hills looked different, doubtful, dangerous, in the aftermath of the Derlavaian War. For as long as he’d been alive, Algarve had been the pivotal kingdom in the east, the one around which events revolved, the one toward which her neighbors looked with awe and dread. That had remained so even after she lost the Six Years’ War.

No more. Hajjaj was sure of that. It wasn’t just that Mezentio’s kingdom had been shattered, with one king in Algarve propped up by the islanders, the other by Swemmel of Unkerlant. But Algarve had shattered herself morally as well. No one could look toward her now without disgust. That marked a great change in the world.

Would everyone turn to Unkerlant, then? Swemmel surely ruled the most powerful kingdom on the mainland of Derlavai. Would Yaninans and Forthwe-gians and Zuwayzin and even Algarvians start shouting, “Efficiency!” at the top of their lungs? The notion made Hajjaj queasy, but where else would folk look?

Kuusamo, maybe, he thought. Kuusamo and Lagoas were the only kingdoms that could hope to hold any sort of balance against Unkerlant. Kuusamo isn’t even a kingdom, not really, Hajjaj reminded himself. How does it hold together under seven princes? Somehow it managed, and more than managed. Its soldiers had done more than the Lagoans to beat Algarve in the east, and it had also beaten Gyongyos even without the final sorcery. Aye, Kuusamo was a place to watch.