Through the Darkness

“We’ll do fine,” Sidroc retorted. “If there’s any food at all, well take it. That’s what being a soldier is all about.”

“That’s what being a thief is all about,” Leofsig said, ignoring his father’s warning look. “And if they send you down south, you’ll find out all about snow, the same way they did last winter. Good luck stealing when everything’s frozen up.”

This time, Hestan did more than send a warning look. His tone sharper that usual, he said, “Leofsig, what were we talking about before supper? Sidroc’s father dwells here, and Sidroc himself is a welcome guest.”

“Aye, Father,” Leofsig answered, but his face betrayed him--it showed exactly how welcome he thought Sidroc was.

Seeing that, Sidroc half rose from his chair. Breathing hard, he said, “I know you all hate me. Do you know what? I don’t care. Do you know what else? Every stinking one of you can kiss my arse.”

“Son--” Uncle Hengist began.

Sidroc cut him off. “Aye, you, too, Father. You were screaming at me to stay out of the Brigade as loud as anybody else. And you were wrong, you hear me, wrong!” His voice rose to a roar. “Best lot of mates I’ve ever found. So you can kiss my arse, too. Just like them!”

“Just like me, Sidroc?” Leofsig got up, walked round the table, and kissed his cousin gently on the lips. “There.”

For a moment, Sidroc simply stared. He wasn’t too bright. But then, with a bellow of rage, he realized what Leofsig had done. He swung on Leofsig without any shift in his eyes to warn what he was going to do--sure enough, the Algarvians had taught him a thing or two.

Leofsig saw stars. He reeled backwards, fetching up against the table. Sidroc swarmed after him, fists flailing. From furious, his cousin’s face had gone deadly cold. He’ll kill me if he can, Leofsig realized.

He threw a punch at Sidroc, but his cousin blocked it with a forearm. His father and Uncle Hengist were brawling, too, but he could pay them no heed--he was indeed fighting for his life.

Conberge screamed curses as vile as any Leofsig had ever heard in the army, but Sidroc flung her back onto her mother when she rushed at him. Conberge and Elfryth went down in a heap. Leofsig grabbed a bowl and hurled it at Sidroc. He missed. The bowl shattered against the wall.

Sidroc kicked Leofsig. Leofsig kicked, too, trying to put Sidroc out of the fight with a well-aimed foot. But Sidroc twisted, quicker and smoother than Leofsig remembered him being, and took the kick on the hip, not between the legs.

Panic surged in Leofsig. What can I do? He reached for the bread knife. At the same moment, Sidroc grabbed one of the chairs. He swung it as if it weighed nothing at all. His first swipe knocked the bread knife flying from Leofsig’s hand. The next caught Leofsig in the side of the head.

He sagged to the floor. I have to get up, he thought, but his body didn’t want to hear him. I have to... Sidroc hit him again. The lamps seemed to flare red, then guttered toward blackness. He never felt any of the blows that landed after that--or anything else, ever again.

Five

Vanai heard what she thought were Ealstan’s familiar footfalls coming up the hall toward their flat. But when the knock on the door came, it was several harsh bangs, not the coded raps Ealstan always used.

Ice shot up Vanai’s back. Had someone betrayed Ealstan to the redheads? Had someone betrayed her! Heart thudding, she waited for the harsh cry: “Kaunian, come forth!”

She wondered if she would do better to come forth or to go out the window headfirst. It would be over in a hurry then, and it wouldn’t hurt much. Who could guess what the Algarvians did to Kaunians in their labor camps before they finally slew them? But while Vanai was wondering, the knock came again--the right knock, this time.

Cautiously, she approached the door. “Who is it?” she asked in a low voice.

“It’s me,” Ealstan answered. “Let me in.”

It was unquestionably Ealstan, but he didn’t sound right. Were a couple of Algarvians standing behind him in the hall, one maybe holding a stick to his head? What disaster would descend on her if she opened the door? She didn’t know, but she knew Ealstan wouldn’t have left her to face disaster alone. That decided her. She unbarred the door and pulled it open.

Ealstan stood there alone. Breath whooshed out of Vanai in a long sigh of relief. Then she saw the look on his face. She gasped as involuntarily as she’d sighed. “What is it?” she demanded. Ealstan didn’t answer. He didn’t move, either. She had to grab him by the arm and tug him into the flat and then tug him again so she could close the door. Once she’d barred it, she spun round to face him. “What is it?” she repeated.