Out of the Darkness

“I’m glad you’re pleased.” By Vanai’s tone, the news didn’t excite her nearly so much.

“Let’s go hear him when he speaks!” Ealstan exclaimed. His wife looked as if that wasn’t the thing she most wanted to do, but she didn’t say no. She might not share his patriotism, but she’d learned better than to argue about it with him.

And so, on the appointed day, Ealstan and Vanai and Saxburh with them went to the square in front of the palace. Ealstan wore his best tunic, not that it was much better than the others. Vanai hadn’t bothered putting on anything special.

Blue and white ribbons and streamers and banners-Forthweg’s colors-did their best to enliven the battered square and even more battered palace facade. In front of the palace stood a new wooden platform with a speaker’s podium at the front. Unkerlanter soldiers stood guard around it. More soldiers, these probably of higher rank, stood on it with a personage in fancy robes.

Ealstan got up on tiptoe, trying to see better. “Is that King Penda?” he said, almost hopping in his excitement. “Who else could that be but King Penda?” He took Saxburh from Vanai and held her up over his head. “Look, Saxburh! That’s the king!”

“I don’t think she cares,” Vanai said pointedly.

“Not now, but she will when she’s older,” Ealstan said. “She’s seen the king!”

The king did not come to the podium at once. Instead, one of the Unkerlanter officers strode forward. “People of Forthweg!” he called in accented but understandable Forthwegian. “I am General Leuvigild, King Swemmel’s commander for Forthweg.” What does that mean? Ealstan wondered. Before he could say anything, Leuvigild went on, “People of Forthweg, I give you a king who has struggled side by side with us to free your kingdom from the Algarvian invaders, a man who has fought alongside Unkerlanter soldiers rather than fleeing his kingdom for a life of ease and luxury, safe in Lagoas. People of Forthweg, I give you King Beornwulf I! Long may he reign!”

In dead silence, Beornwulf came up to the podium. A puppet, Ealstan thought bitterly. Nothing but an Unkerlanter puppet. Back before the war, he’d heard of Beornwulf a few times: the man was an earl or count with estates in the west of Forthweg. The man is a whore, naked in King Swemmel’s bed, and he prostitutes his kingdom along with himself.

“People of Forthweg, I will make you the best king I can,” Beornwulf said. “We are allied with Unkerlant in the tremendous struggle against accursed Algarve. We shall follow our ally’s lead, and in so doing regain our own freedom. So long as we do that, we shall stay great and free. I expect all my subjects to recognize the importance of this alliance, and to do nothing to jeopardize it, as I shall do nothing to jeopardize it. Together, Unkerlant and Forthweg will go forward to victory.”

He stepped back. More silence followed: no curses, no boos, but no cheers or applause, either. Quietly, Vanai said, “Well, it could be worse, you know.”

And she was right. Swemmel could simply have annexed Forthweg. Maybe rule from a puppet would prove better than direct rule by a puppet-master like the King of Unkerlant. Maybe. Ealstan wondered if he dared hope for even that much.

People started filing out of the square. They had to file past more Unkerlanter soldiers, men who hadn’t been there when the square filled. “What are they doing?” Vanai said, alarm in her voice. “They can’t be checking for Kaunians. They don’t do that… do they?”

“Your spell is fine,” Ealstan told her, and squeezed her hand. “And you dyed your hair not so long ago. You’ll get by.”

Not everyone got by. The Unkerlanters-there were a surprising lot of them-pulled people out of the crowd and let others through. They didn’t listen to the cries of protest that started rising. But nobody did more than shout. The Unkerlanters all had sticks, and likely wouldn’t hesitate to use them. Most people seemed to get through. Having no choice, Ealstan and Vanai went forward.

An Unkerlanter soldier looked Ealstan up and down. He paid Vanai no attention whatever. In what was probably his own language rather than Forthwegian, he asked, “How old are you?”

Ealstan got the drift; Forthwegian and Unkerlanter were cousins. “Twenty,” he said.

“Good.” The Unkerlanter gestured with his stick. “You come here with us.”

Ice ran through Ealstan. “What?” he said. “Why?”

“For the army,” the Unkerlanter answered. “Now come, or be sorry.”

“King Beornwulf will have an army?” Ealstan asked in surprise.

“No, no, no.” The Unkerlanter laughed. “King Swemmel’s army. Plenty of Algarvians to kill. Now come.” By the way he gestured with the stick this time, he’d use it if Ealstan balked. Numbly, Ealstan went. He didn’t even get to kiss Vanai goodbye.