Rulers of the Darkness

Back to work Ealstan went, and utterly mundane work it was, too. But he didn't care. He'd scratched his itch to know. He'd done more than that. He'd started working to help drive Mezentio's men out of his kingdom. What more could he want? Nothing, or so he thought. If fighting the Algarvians also meant keeping track of invoices on fifty-seven different styles of teacup- and it did- he would cheerfully do that. If it wasn't his patriotic duty, he didn't know what it was.

And the news sheets had got very vague about how the fighting in Unkerlant was going. He took that as a good sign.

He'd been working in his new capacity for a few weeks when something odd struck him. That was almost literally true: he was walking home in the first rain of fall when the thought came to him. "The mushrooms will be springing up," he told Vanai when he got back to their flat.

"That's true." She clapped her hands together. "And I'll be able to go hunting them this year. Staying cooped up in the middle of mushroom season is something that shouldn't happen to anyone."

"Thanks to your sorcery, it won't happen to nearly so many people." Ealstan said went over and gave her a kiss. Then he paused, scratching his head.

"What is it?" Vanai asked.

"Nothing," Ealstan answered. "Or I don't think it's anything, anyway."

Vanai raised an eyebrow. But, rather to his relief, she did no more than raise an eyebrow. She didn't constantly push at him, for which he was duly grateful. Maybe that was because she'd never been able to push at her grandfather, by all the signs one of the least pushable men ever born. If so, it was one of the few things for which Ealstan would have thanked Brivibas had he been able. And, by all the signs, Brivibas wouldn't have appreciated his thanks.

A couple of days later, in casual tones, Ealstan said to Pybba, "Occurs to me you're missing something."

"Oh?" The pottery magnate raised a shaggy eyebrow. "What's that? Whatever it is, you'll tell me. You're the one who knows everything, after all."

Ealstan's cheeks heated. He hoped his beard kept Pybba from seeing him flush. But flushed or not, he stubbornly plowed ahead: "You want to do the redheads the most harm you can, right?"

"Not much point to kicking 'em halfway in the balls, is there?" his boss returned, and laughed at his own joke.

Ealstan chuckled, too, but went on, "Well, then, you are missing something. Who hates Mezentio's men more than anybody?"

Pybba jabbed a thumb at his own thick chest. "I do, by the powers above."

But Ealstan shook his head. "You don't hate them worse than the Kaunians do," he said. "And I haven't seen you doing anything to get the blonds to work alongside us Forthwegians. What they owe the Algarvians…"

"Kaunians? Blonds?" The pottery magnate might never have heard the names before. He scowled. "Weren't for the miserable Kaunians, we wouldn't have got into the war in the first place."

"Oh, by the powers above!" Ealstan clapped a hand to his forehead. "The Algarvians have been saying the same thing in their broadsheets ever since they beat us. Do you want to sound like them?"

"They're whoresons, aye- the Algarvians, I mean- but that doesn't make 'em wrong all the time," Pybba said. "I'd sooner trust my own kind, thank you very much."

"Kaunians are people, too," Ealstan said. His father had been saying that for as long as he could remember: long enough to make him take it for granted, anyway. But even if he took it for granted, he'd already seen that few of his fellow Forthwegians did.

Pybba proved not to be one of those few. He patted Ealstan on the back and said, "I know you used to cast accounts for that half-breed musician. I suppose that's why you think the way you do. But most Kaunians are nothing but trouble, and you can take that to the bank. We'll kick the Algarvians out on their arses, we'll bring King Penda back, and everything will be fine."

Most Kaunians are nothing but trouble, and you can take that to the bank. What would Pybba say if he knew Ealstan's wife, whom he'd met as Thelberge, was really named Vanai? He can't find out, Ealstan thought- an obvious truth if ever there was one.

"Now get yourself back to work," Pybba said. "I'll do the thinking around here. You just cast the accounts."

"Right," Ealstan said tightly. He almost threw his job in the pottery magnate's face then and there. But if he left now, Pybba would realize his reasons had to do with Kaunians. He couldn't afford that. As he went back to the ledgers, tears of rage and frustration made the columns of numbers blur for a moment. He blinked till they went away. He'd found the underground, and now he found he didn't fit into it. That hurt almost too much to bear.

When he got home that evening, he poured out his troubles to Vanai. "No, you can't quit," his wife said, "even if Pybba has no use for Kaunians. If he has his way, people will despise us- the Forthwegians will, anyway. If the Algarvians win, we won't be around to despise. That makes things pretty simple, doesn't it?"