Out of the Darkness

Little by little, Ilmarinen realized the fellow might be dangerous if he stayed frightened. This was, after all, the Unkerlanter side of the river. If I have an accident, how hard would anyone try to find out whether it was really accidental? Not very, unless I miss my guess.

Picking his words with care, the Kuusaman mage said, “I believe the more initiative a man shows, the more he does for himself, the better off he’s likely to be, and the better off the world is likely to be.”

Andelot translated for Fariulf. Ilmarinen smiled and nodded. He hadn’t even been lying. Now, would the Unkerlanter see as much? Andelot said, “Maybe that so in your kingdom. Believe me, sir, not always so in Unkerlant.”

Ilmarinen did believe him. In Unkerlant, from everything he’d heard, everything he’d seen, a man who stuck his neck out was asking the axe to come down. The mage wanted to talk more with Sergeant Fariulf, to see if he could learn just what sort of power burned behind the stocky man’s eyes. He would have to be careful. He saw as much. Andelot plainly had no idea what a wonder he had for an underofficer.

But Fariulf-an Unkerlanter, sure enough-was wary about giving up whatever secrets he possessed. He spoke in his own language. Andelot translated: “Colonel, he asks if you done with him, if he can go back to duties.”

What Ilmarinen felt like doing was kidnapping Fariulf and dragging him over to the eastern bank of the Albi so he could wring knowledge from him like a man wringing water from a towel. He reluctantly recognized he couldn’t do that. And Fariulf, alerted now, would yield him very little. Ilmarinen gave up, something he didn’t like to do. “I’m done with him, aye. Tell him thanks, and tell him good luck.”

The sergeant got to his feet and took off. His power, his secrets, went with him. Ilmarinen could feel them leaving. He sighed. Andelot asked, “Is anything else with me, Colonel? I too have duties.”

Get out of my hair, old man. That was what he meant, even if he was too polite to say so. “No, nothing else, Lieutenant,” Ilmarinen answered. Except for your sergeant, you haven’t got anything very interesting. “I thank you for your time, and for your translating.”

As Ilmarinen returned and started back toward the ferry, another officer came by. This one, Ilmarinen saw, wore a chest badge along with the rank badges on his collar tabs. Ilmarinen figured out what the badge meant as soon as the fellow looked at him. He felt himself recognized for what he was, just as he’d recognized Fariulf for something out of the ordinary. The newcomer spoke rapidly in Unkerlanter. Andelot exclaimed in surprise, then returned to Algarvian: “This mage say-says-you too are mage. Is so?”

He couldn’t even lie. The other wizard would know he was doing it. “Aye, I’m a mage,” he replied. “So what?”

More back-and-forth in Unkerlanter. After a bit, Andelot said, “This other mage says you are no ordinary mage. He says you are strong mage, mighty mage. Is so?”

Powers below eat you, Ilmarinen thought at the Unkerlanter wizard. It wasn’t so much because the fellow was right, but because, by being right, he’d made sure Ilmarinen couldn’t casually visit this side of the river any more. Getting escorted to things he was supposed to see didn’t strike him as much fun.

“Is so?” Andelot persisted.

“Aye, it’s so,” Ilmarinen said with a sigh.

“You are spy?” the young lieutenant asked-a very Unkerlanter question.

“I’m an ally,” Ilmarinen answered. “Spies are enemies. How can I possibly be a spy?”

“How can you be spy?” Andelot echoed. “Easy.” The other mage, who didn’t speak Algarvian, had a good deal to say in Unkerlanter. Andelot didn’t sound very happy about hearing any of it. When Swemmel’s sorcerer finished, the lieutenant said, “You go back to your side of river now. You stay on your side of river now. You not welcome on this side of river now.”

“And is that how one ally treats another?” Ilmarinen demanded, doing his best to show more indignation than he felt.

“Do you show us all your secrets?” Andelot returned. Because Unkerlanters had to keep so many secrets so inspectors and impressers wouldn’t drag them away and do something dreadful to them, they were convinced everyone had secrets and guarded them and tried to spy out other people’s.

“Plenty of your officers on our bank of the Albi, too,” Ilmarinen said. And, odds are, they’re spies, or some of them are, he thought.

“That is that bank of river. This is this bank of river,” Andelot said, as if that made all the difference in the world. Maybe, to him, it did. He pointed east, toward the riverbank. “You have to go now.”