Rulers of the Darkness

Silver clinked sweetly as Vanai put coins in her handbag. She nodded to herself. She'd told Ealstan the truth; money wasn't a worry yet, and wouldn't be for a while. She still found the handbag a minor annoyance. Trouser pockets were more convenient for carrying things. But Forthwegian women didn't wear trousers. If she wanted to look like a Forthwegian, she had to dress like one, too.

She'd just lifted the bar from the door when someone knocked on it. She jerked back in surprise and alarm. She hadn't expected visitors. She never expected visitors. Visitors meant trouble. "Who is it?" she asked, hating the quaver in her voice but unable to hold it out.

"Mistress Thelberge?" A man's voice, deep and gruff. Unquestionably Forthwegian- no Algarvian trill.

"Aye?" Cautiously, Vanai opened the door. The fellow standing in the hallway was a vigorous fifty, with shoulders like a bull's. She'd never seen him before. "Who are you? What do you want?"

He drew himself up straight. "Pybba's the name," he rumbled. "Now where in blazes is your husband?" He spoke as if Vanai might have had Ealstan in her handbag.

"He's not here," she said coldly. "He's out looking for work. Thanks to you, he'll probably have a hard time finding any. What more do you want to do to him?"

"I want to talk to him, that's what," the pottery magnate answered.

Vanai set a hand on the door, as if to slam it in his face. "Why should he want to talk to you?"

Pybba reached into his belt pouch. He pulled out a coin and tossed it to her. "Here. This'll give him a reason," he said as she caught it. She stared at the coin in her hand. It was gold.

Vanai couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a goldpiece, let along held one. Silver circulated far more freely in Forthweg than gold, and Brivibas, back in Oyngestun, had not been the sort of man who attracted any of the few goldpieces the kingdom did mint. "I don't understand," Vanai said. "You just sacked Ealstan. Why- this?" She held up the gold coin. It lay heavier in her hand than silver would have.

"Because I've learned some things I didn't know when I gave him the boot, that's why," Pybba replied. "For instance, he's got- he had- a brother named Leofsig. Isn't that so?" Vanai stood mute. She didn't know where the pottery magnate was going with his questions or why he was asking them. Pybba seemed to take her silence for agreement, for he went on, "And some son of a whore from Plegmund's Brigade killed his brother. Isn't that right?"

He didn't know everything; he didn't know that the fellow from Plegmund's Brigade who'd killed Leofsig was Ealstan's- and poor Leofsig's- first cousin. But he knew enough. Vanai asked, "What's this to you?"

"It's worth gold to me to see him, that's what it is. You tell him so," Pybba said. "Aye, tell him just that. And keep the money whether he decides he wants to see me or not. He'll be stubborn. I know cursed well he will. Some ways, he reminds me of the way I was back in my puppy days." He laughed. "Don't tell him that. It'll just put his back up. So long, sweetheart. I've got work to do." Without another word, he hurried toward the stairs. Vanai got the idea he always hurried.

She went through the rest of the day in a daze. She didn't want to take the goldpiece with her when she went down to the market square to buy oil, but she didn't want to leave it back in the flat, either. She knew that was foolish; aye, it was worth sixteen times its weight in silver, but the flat already held a good deal more than sixteen times as much silver as there was gold in that one coin. The nervousness persisted even so.

When she got back with the olive oil, the first thing she did was make sure the gold coin was where she'd left it. Then she had to wait for Ealstan to come home. The sun seemed to crawl across the sky. It was sinking down behind the block of flats across the street when he finally used the familiar coded knock.

One glance at his face told Vanai he'd had no luck. "About time for me to start paving roads, looks like," he said glumly. "Pour me some wine, will you? If I get drunk, I won't have to think about what a mess I'm in."

Instead of pouring wine, Vanai brought back the goldpiece and displayed it in the palm of her hand. As Ealstan's eyes widened, she said, "Things may not be quite so bad."

"Where-?" Ealstan coughed. He had to break off and try again. Speaking carefully, he asked, "Where did that come from?"

"From Pybba," Vanai answered, and her husband's eyes got wider still. Handing him the goldpiece, she went on, "He wants to talk with you."

Ealstan tossed the coin up into the air. "That means this is probably brass," he said as he caught it. Vanai shook her head. Ealstan didn't push it; he knew the heft of gold when he felt it, too. He scowled in bewilderment. "What does he want? What can he want? For me to come in so he can gloat?"