Through the Darkness

A mage with the nominal rank of colonel was an important fellow indeed. Istvan wasted no time in saluting. He said, “We haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, sir.” His eyes slid to Kun, who’d been bragging about how much he could see. Kun had the grace to look down at the snow between his boots.

Breath smoking as he spoke, Szonyi asked, “It’s not the horrible magecraft the Unkerlanters threw at us a while ago, is it? When we looked like breaking through, I mean.” He sounded anxious. As far as Istvan was concerned, he had a right to sound anxious. Istvan couldn’t imagine any man wanting to go through that terrible sorcery twice. He couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to go through it once, either, but he’d had no choice about that.

Farkas’ jowls wobbled as he shook his head. “No, I do not think this would be so dramatic as the accursed, murderous spell Swemmel’s men used there. This would be something subtler, something more devious, something the average man, even the average mage, might have trouble noting till too late.”

Kun sent Istvan a look that said, There! Istvan ignored him. He said, “Sir, the Unkerlanters are a lot of different things, but devious isn’t any of them, not the way you mean. They’re sneaky fighters, but their mages don’t know about anything but hitting us over the head.”

“I do not think this is an Unkerlanter spell,” Colonel Farkas answered. “I fear it may be the same one the Kuusamans used this past summer to help drive us off the island of Obuda.”

Istvan, Kun, and Szonyi all exclaimed then. It was the first any of them had heard that Gyongyos had lost the island. Tivadar was nodding; he must have already known. To Farkas, he said, “These men previously fought on Obuda.”

“I see,” the mage said. “But they have been here in the east for some time?” Tivadar nodded. Farkas looked disappointed. “Too bad. They might have helped me detect the cantrip were things otherwise.”

“How did the Unkerknters get their hands on this spell, sir, if the Kuusamans were the ones who made it?” Istvan asked.

Farkas scowled. “All our foes hate us. All our foes plot against us. It was to be hoped that our Algarvian allies, who also war on Kuusamo and Unkerlant both, would have been able to keep them from joining hands to harm us, but such was not the case. Whether by way of the broad oceans of the north or through the Narrow Sea, the evil knowledge was passed.”

“What is the nature of the spell, sir?” Kun asked.

Farkas seemed to notice him for the first time. “You have some small measure of the gift,” he said. It was not a question. Kun bowed, showing the military mage more respect that Istvan had ever seen him give anyone else. Farkas said, “Perhaps you can assist me.”

“Sir, it would be an honor,” Kun replied.

Farkas tugged at his beard, which showed gray streaks in the midst of the golden brown. “Aye, perhaps you can indeed. You have not met the spell, but you have come to know this great, brooding wood.”

“Tell me what you would have me do, and I will do it with all my heart,” Kun said. Istvan hadn’t heard him sound so eager, either.

Farkas tugged at his beard again, considering. After a moment, he nodded, and his jowls shook again. “Very well. It is not without risk, but risk you are acquainted with. A lucky star must have shone on your captain when he chose to bring me here. Now hearken to me. As I said before, the nature of the spell is subtle. It is a lulling, a dimming, a weakening of the senses, so that the deceitful foe may glide past our outposts and seize positions of advantage.”

“The Unkerlanters ought to use it against Algarve, then, not just us,” Szonyi said. “Why have we got all the luck?”

“Because it was crafted against us.” Behind the curly tangle of Farkas’ beard, the corners of his mouth turned down. “The Algarvians are strong in certain sorceries, weak in certain others, as are we. In most cases, the differences between what one folk and another knows are of little import. Here ...” His expression grew more sour still. “Here the Kuusamans are strong where we are weak, and exploited our weakness with nasty cunning.”

“Have we learned how to cope with it since they turned it on us?” Istvan asked. He cared nothing for the fancy details, but he had a good eye for what really mattered.

Farkas’ voice was dry: “We have hope, Sergeant. Aye, we have hope.”

“Would they have brought the distinguished colonel here if he could not stop the miserable Unkerlanters?” Captain Tivadar asked in reproving tones.

Who knows? Istvan thought. Back there in Gyovvar, does Ekrekek Arpad have any notion of the kind of war we ‘re fighting here, so far away? He didn’t know the answer to that question. He did know he’d end up in trouble if he opened his mouth out of turn. And so he only shook his head and waited to see what the high-ranking mage would do.