Darkness Descending

Rather more Valmieran noblewomen than commoners wore Algarvian-style kilts. Krasta scowled when she noticed that. Some of the Valmieran men had taken to wearing the Algarvian style, too. Krasta liked that no better.

Sure enough, here came Viscount Valnu, in a kilt so short, he would have had trouble staying modest if he bent over. His bonily handsome face wore a dazzling smile. “Hello, darling!” he said, fluttering his fingers at Krasta. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, then hugged Lurcanio and kissed him on the cheek, too. “Hello, my lord Count! And how are you?”

“Well enough, thanks,” Lurcanio said, and kept his distance from Valnu from then on. Algarvian men were more apt to kiss than Valmierans, but they didn’t usually do it quite like that--though Krasta recalled seeing Valnu at one party with an Algarvian officer who was definitely like that.

Valnu, to her certain knowledge, wasn’t, or wasn’t altogether. “What have you been doing lately?” she asked him, more than a hint of malice in her voice.

“Why, whatever I can, of course,” he answered. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.” He turned to Lurcanio. “I wouldn’t steal your lady without your leave, my lord Count. That were rude indeed.”

“It’s all right,” Lurcanio said indulgently. By his tone, he thought he was safe enough entrusting Krasta to this creature of no obvious gender.

Krasta knew better, and the thought of being unfaithful to her redheaded lover suddenly looked delightful, not so much for Valnu’s sake as to put one over on Lurcanio. She took hold of Valnu’s arm. “Aye,” she gushed, “tell me everything”

Valnu’s smile grew brighter yet. “Oh, I will,” he said, and led her off through the crowd. Behind her, Lurcanio laughed. Krasta was laughing, too, but inside, where it didn’t show. You don’t know as much as you think you do.

She steered Valnu over to the bar so she could collect a mug of ale, then let him steer her out of the mansion and onto the street. “You do need to know that I came here with Lurcanio’s driver, not my own,” she murmured.

“Oh, I do, do I?” Valnu said. “And why is that?”

“Because you can’t have this fellow drive along some quiet road while we do whatever we want in the carriage,” Krasta answered. “He’d blab to Lurcanio, sure as sure.”

“While we do whatever we want?” Valnu laughed softly. “The last time we tried that, you shoved me out of the carriage and left me to walk home alone in the dark. I don’t know about you, my dear marchioness, but that isn’t what I had in mind when we started on the ride.”

Krasta shrugged impatiently. “You deserved it, for picking just the wrong time to start chattering about shopgirls.”

“I won’t say a word about them now, I promise you.” Valnu slid his arm around her. “Stroll with me. We can look up at the stars together, or do anything else we happen to think of.”

There were more stars to look at than there had been when Priekule was at peace. With the city dark, they shone in great, glittering profusion: multicolored jewels scattered across black velvet. After one brief glance, Krasta forgot about them. She hadn’t come out with Valnu to stargaze. She’d come out to enjoy revenge on an Algarvian keeper who took her for granted.

But Valnu really did feel like strolling, or so it seemed. Fuming a little, Krasta went along for a block or so. Then she got mulish. Planting her feet firmly on the slates of the pavement, she took hold of Valnu and said, “If you brought me out here to trifle, what are you waiting for?”

“To get a little farther away,” Valnu answered, which made no sense to her. “But this will do well enough.” He gathered her in. She kissed him more fiercely than she’d ever kissed Lurcanio. The Algarvian was a skilled and pleasing lover, but he also held the whip hand, and Krasta knew it. Not here, not now.

Valnu was nuzzling her neck and nibbling her ear when a thunderous roar behind her knocked both of them off their feet. The first thing Krasta noticed was that she’d torn a knee out of her velvet trousers. Only after cursing at that did she proclaim, “Powers above! What happened?”

“If I had to guess, I would say an egg burst in Sefanu’s mansion,” Valnu answered. He rose and, with startling strength, hauled her to her feet. “Come on.”

Because he sounded sure of himself and acted as if he knew what he was doing, Krasta followed him back toward the mansion. His guess had been right on target, and so, she saw, had the egg. The mansion’s second and third stories had fallen in on themselves, and fire was beginning to spread in the ruins.

Shrieks from injured and trapped people inside made the night hideous. A few men and women, disheveled and bleeding, pulled themselves free of the rubble and came staggering away. Krasta yanked at an arm sticking out from under a pile of bricks. It came away, with no body attached to it. She dropped it with a horrified cry. Her stomach lurched, as if aboard a diving dragon.