Through the Darkness

“I don’t, either, but I was hoping you did, since you’ve been on the spot here longer than I have,” Rathar said. “Since we can’t hold the place, we’d better save what we can when we pull out, don’t you think?”

A loud thud outside the schoolhouse--not a bursting egg, but a heavy weight falling from a great height--made Vatran smile savagely. “That’s a dragon blazed out of the sky,” he said, as if one downed Algarvian dragon made up for all disasters. “Aye, we’ll get out and we’ll keep fighting.”

“And we’d better make sure there are no more skedaddles,” Rathar said. “Whatever we have to do to stop them, we’d best do it.” King Swemmel might have spoken through his mouth. He was ready to be as harsh as Swemmel, to get what he had to have--no, what Unkerlant had to have. Somewhere not far away, another dragon slammed to the ground. Rathar nodded. Once more, the Algarvians were paying a price.

Along with his men, Leudast squatted in a field of sunflowers. It would have been a dangerous place to have to fight. With the plants nodding taller than a man, the only way to find a foe would be to stumble onto him.

For the moment, the Algarvians were a couple of miles to the north--or so Leudast hoped with all his heart. He leaned forward to listen to what Captain Hawart had to say. The regimental commander spoke in matter-of-fact tones: “The kingdom is in danger, boys. If we don’t stop Mezentio’s whoresons before too long, it won’t matter anymore, because we’re licked.”

“You wouldn’t be talking like that if we’d hung on to Durrwangen,” somebody said.

“That’s so, but we didn’t,” Hawart answered. “And some soldiers got blazed because they didn’t fight hard enough, too. Not just ground-pounders, either; there are a couple of dead brigadiers on account of that mess.”

“We’ve done everything we could.” That voice came from behind Hawart. Leudast didn’t see who’d spoken up there, either. Whoever it was hadn’t stood up and waved, that was for sure. Leudast wouldn’t have, either, not if he’d said something like that.

The regimental commander whirled, trying to catch the soldier who’d let his mouth run. Captain Hawart couldn’t, which meant he glared at everyone impartially. “Listen to me,” he said. “You’d cursed well better listen to me, or you’ll all be dead men. If the Algarvians don’t kill you, your own comrades will. It’s that bad. It’s that dangerous. We can’t fall back any more.”

“What’s this about our comrades, sir?” Leudast said. Hawart had ordered him to ask the question.

With a flourish, Captain Hawart took from his belt pouch a sheet of paper. He waved it about before beginning to read it. Leudast watched the soldiers’ eyes follow the sheet. A lot of the men were peasants who could no more read than they could fly. To them, anything on paper seemed more important, more portentous, simply because it was written down.

Leudast knew better, at least most of the time. But Hawart had told him what this paper was. Now the officer explained it to the rest of the regiment: “This is an order from King Swemmel. Not from our division headquarters. Not from General Vatran. Not even from Marshal Rathar, powers above praise him. From the king. So you’d better listen, boys, and you’d better listen good.”

And the troopers he commanded did lean forward so they could hear better. The king’s name made them pay attention. Leudast knew it made him pay attention. He also knew he didn’t want the king or the king’s minions paying attention to him, which they were too likely to do if he disobeyed a royal order even to the slightest degree.

“Not one step back!” Hawart read in ringing tones. “Iron discipline. Iron discipline won the day for the right in the Twinkings War. Even when things looked blackest, our army held firm against the traitors and rebels who fought for that demon in human shape, Kyot.”

Kyot, of course, had been Swemmel’s twin brother: an inconvenient twin, who refused to admit he was the younger of them. He’d paid for his claim. The whole kingdom had paid--and paid, and paid. But if Kyot was a demon in human shape and was also Swemmel’s twin, what did that make the present king of Unkerlant?

Before Leudast could dwell on that for very long, Hawart went on, “The Algarvian invaders shall not be permitted to advance one foot farther onto the precious soil of Unkerlant. Our soldiers are to die in place before yielding any further territory to Mezentio’s butchers and wolves. The enemy must be checked, must be halted, must be driven back. Any soldiers who shirk this task shall face our wrath, which, we assure all who hear these words, shall blaze hotter than anything the redheaded mumblers can possibly inflict on you.”

Here and there, soldiers looked at one another. Leudast looked up at the sky and the nodding sunflowers. He did not want to have to try to meet anyone else’s eyes. From everything he’d heard, from everything he’d seen, Swemmel was neither lying nor boasting. However much Leudast feared the Algarvians, he feared his own sovereign more.