Through the Darkness

For the first time, Sabrino found himself nodding. He’d been saying things like that all along, but nobody wanted to listen to him. Maybe Mezentio had decided not to pour a whole great army down into the land of the Ice People after all.

Sure enough, Zerbino said, “We shall not get all the men or beasts we’ve asked for. Our kingdom needs them more to fight in Unkerlant and to guard the southeastern coast of Derlavai against more raids like the one at Dukstas.” That massive, heavy-knuckled fist pounded the tabletop again. “But we will have the victory here. By the powers above, we will.”

Now Sabrino stuck up a hand. He couldn’t help himself. “How will we manage that, sir?” he asked. “Are you going to go out and wrestle General Junqueiro, best two falls out of three, for the austral continent?”

Zerbino grinned. “Myself, I’d be glad to,” he answered, and Sabrino believed him, “but I don’t think the Lagoan has the stones for it. No, that’s not what I meant, Colonel, however much I wish it were. We aren’t getting the big reinforcements people had been talking about--I already said that. I wish we were, but we aren’t. Instead, what we are getting is two squads of mages and a good-sized shipment of... special personnel, that’s what they’re calling them back in Trapani.”

For a moment, Sabrino hadn’t the faintest notion of what he meant. No doubt the people who’d come up with the bloodless phrase had that in mind. But it didn’t shield him from the truth for long. When he realized what had to lie behind it, he felt colder than the frozen ground on the far side of the Barrier Mountains. He spoke a single horrified word: “Kaunians.”

“Aye, Kaunians,” Zerbino agreed. “A whole great whacking lot of them just got shipped across the Narrow Sea to Heshbon. They’re on their way up here now, along with our mages. Once they get here, we’ll make a magic to squash the Lagoans like so many bugs. Then we mop up, and then most of us can go back to Derlavai and give the Unkerlanters what they deserve.”

Most of the assembled officers were nodding their heads. Several of them said, “Aye,” once more. Sabrino remembered King Mezentio coming out of the rain and into his tent the autumn before in Unkerlant to say like things in like words. We’ll do it once and it will take care of the enemy for good. Everything will be fine after that.

Had everything turned out fine, Algarve wouldn’t need to send men back to Unkerlant now. Sabrino asked the question that had to be asked: “What do we do if something goes wrong, sir?”

Zerbino tossed his head, as if trying to scare off an annoying gnat. “Nothing will go wrong,” he said. “Nothing can go wrong. Or are you saying our mages don’t know their business, Colonel?” His tone implied Sabrino had better not be saying that.

“Sir, this is the land of the Ice People,” Sabrino answered. “Don’t they say it’s easy for mages from the mainland of Derlavai to have their spells go wrong here?”

“I assure you, Colonel,” Zerbino said coldly, “that the men in charge of this necessary operation know everything that is required of them. Your task, and that of your dragonfliers, will be to keep the Lagoans and Kuusamans from flying over the encampment of the special personnel before they are committed to the necessary operation.” More bloodless words. “That is your sole task. Do you understand?”

“Aye, sir.” Sabrino got to his feet and left Zerbino’s tent. Captain Domiziano loyally followed. “Go back if you care to,” Sabrino told him. “You’ll do better for yourself staying than leaving. Besides, I know you think I’m wrong.”

“You are my commander, sir,” Domiziano said. “We guard each other’s backs, in the air and on the ground.” Sabrino bowed, touched.

He was gladder to see the dragons than he had been to stay in Brigadier Zerbino’s tent, a telling measure of his distress. The Algarvians and the handful of Yaninans still with them gave him curious looks as he stalked among the dragons. The beasts themselves glared and screeched at him in the same way they glared and screeched at one another: they weren’t fussy in their mindless hostility.

He wasted no time in ordering extra patrols into the air. Zerbino was bound to be right about that: if the enemy discovered Kaunians were being brought up to the front, they would know what was coming and might be able to take precautions against it. Since the army was several days’ march east of Heshbon, he had plenty of time to get the patrols as he wanted them before the Kaunians arrived.

On the day the blonds trudged wearily into camp, a clan of Ice People also came in, to sell camels to the Algarvians. The robed, hairy natives watched impassively as the Kaunians, covered by Algarvians with sticks, made a separate camp for themselves. The mages who’d come in with the Kaunians had ridden out from Heshbon instead of walking. They were fresh and smiling, unlike the men and women in trousers.