Darkness Descending

He left Brivibas’ house whistling cheerfully, the picture of sated indolence. Vanai barred the door after him. She went back to the house’s crowded bookshelves, to the text from which she’d taken the classical spell of repulsion. She’d hoped that, because it was so old, Spinello would not be warded against it. Maybe he was. Or maybe the spell, like so many from the days of the old Empire, had no real value. Either way, she wanted to throw the book into the fire or drop it down the privy.

As she had when pleasuring Spinello, she refrained. She’d made sure she put the text back exactly where she’d got it. If it went missing, Brivibas would know and would hound her without mercy till it turned up or till she explained why it couldn’t. Or he might think Spinello had stolen it. If anything could rouse her grandfather to violence, a purloined book might.

Spinello returned three days later--he probably needed extra rest after his unusual exertion during his previous visit--and then again two days after that. In his own way, he was nearly as regular and methodical as Brivibas. Vanai cursed the classical Kaunians under her breath, and sometimes above it. Her grandfather remained convinced his ancient ancestors had been the font of all knowledge. Maybe so, but what they’d reckoned magecraft couldn’t keep the Algarvian major out of her bed. As far as she was concerned, that made them useless--worse than useless, for she’d built up her hopes relying on their wisdom, only to see those hopes dashed.

Two days later, Spinello came back, and then two days after that. By then, Vanai had resigned herself to the failure of her ploy. She let him do what he wanted. He did leave more quickly these days than he had at first; he’d discovered she didn’t care to listen to his tales of Algarvian triumphs in Unkerlant, and so had stopped regaling her with them. He allowed her all sorts of small courtesies, but not the larger one of deciding whether she wanted to give herself to him.

And, after another two days, he returned once more. This time, to her surprise, he had a couple of ordinary Algarvian troopers at his back. Horror blazed through her. Was he going to give her to them as a reward for good service? If he tried to do that, Vanai would ...

She realized she didn’t have to decide what she would do then. One of the troopers carried a crate holding four jars of wine; the other was festooned with sausage links and cradled a ham in his arms. Spinello spoke to them in Algarvian. They set the food and drink inside the front hall, then went away.

Spinello came in and closed the door behind himself. As he was barring it, Vanai found her voice: “What’s all this?”

“Farewell gift,” Spinello answered lightly. “My superiors, in their wisdom, have decided I am better suited to fighting the Unkerlanters than to administering a Forthwegian village. It will be boring, I expect--no antiquities, and mostly homely women--but I am the king’s to command. You will have to take your chances with the constables who take over for me. But”--he slid a hand under her tunic--”I am not gone yet.”

Vanai let him lead her back to her bedchamber. When he had her straddle him, she did it joyfully. It was not the joy of fulfilled desire, but it was the joy of a fulfilled desire, and surprisingly close to the other--closer than she’d ever come with Spinello, of that she was certain.

Had he wanted a second go then, she would have given it to him without much resentment, knowing it would be the last. But after she’d brought him to his peak, he caressed her for a moment, then patted her bottom to show he wanted her to let him up. She did, and he began to dress.

“I’ll miss you, curse me if I won’t,” he said, bending down to kiss her. An eyebrow quirked. “You won’t miss me a bit, and curse me if I don’t know that, but I brought the meat and wine to give you something to remember me by.”

“I will always remember you,” Vanai said truthfully as she got back into her own clothes. Now, perhaps, she might not remember him quite as she would have before his gift--or not to the same degree, at any rate. She might even hope he would live when he went into battle--though she might not, too.

To her relief, he didn’t ask her anything about that. He kissed and fondled her at the doorway before going out. She closed the door and barred it. Then she stood in the entry hall for a couple of minutes, scratching her head as she stared down at the sausages. Had her spell got Spinello sent off to fight King Swemmel’s men, or was this only a coincidence? If it was only a coincidence, had some coincidences like it convinced the ancient Kaunians they had an effective cantrip?