Rulers of the Darkness

The way Colonel Lurcanio's eyes lit up when Krasta came downstairs was its own reward. He set a hand on the curve of her hip. "Perhaps I should send Amatu away and keep you all to myself tonight."

"Perhaps you should," she purred, looking up at him from under half-lowered eyelids.

But he laughed and patted her and shook his head. "No, he'll be here any moment, and I truly do want the two of you to meet… so long as I am chaperoning. You may have more in common than you think."

"What does that mean?" Krasta asked. "I don't like it when you make your little jokes and I don't know what's going on."

"You'll know soon enough, my sweet; I promise you that," Lurcanio said: more in the way of reassurance than he usually gave her.

Count Amatu knocked on the door a few minutes later. He bowed over Krasta's hand, then clasped wrists, Algarvian style, with Lurcanio. He was thinner than Krasta remembered, thinner and somehow harsher. He knocked back a brandy and nodded. "That opens your eyes," he said, and then, "I've had my eyes opened lately, by the powers above. That I have."

"How do you mean?" Krasta asked.

Amatu glanced over to Colonel Lurcanio, then asked her, "Have you seen your brother lately?"

"Skarnu?" Krasta exclaimed, as if she had some other brother, too. Count Amatu nodded. "No," she said. "I haven't seen him since he went off to fight in the war." That was true. "I've never been sure since whether he was alive or dead." That was anything but true, though she didn't think Lurcanio knew it. She knew her brother was alive and still doing something to resist the Algarvians. But what did Amatu know? She did her best to sound intrigued and pleased as she asked, "Why? Have you seen him? Where is he?"

"Oh, I've seen him, all right." Amatu didn't sound pleased about it, either. After muttering something under his breath that Krasta, perhaps fortunately, didn't catch, he went on, "He's down in the south somewhere, mucking about with those miserable bandits who don't know a lost cause when they see one."

"Is he? I had no idea." Krasta was very conscious of Lurcanio's eye on her. He'd invited Amatu here to see what she would do when she got this news. She had to let it seem a surprise. "I wish he'd chosen differently." And part of her did. Had he chosen differently, she wouldn't have had to think about how she'd chosen. One way and another, she'd learned too much about what the Algarvians were doing. That left her unhappy with herself: not a feeling she was used to having.

"They're hopeless, useless, worthless- the bandits, I mean," Amatu said with fine aristocratic scorn. "But your brother's having a fine time slumming, I will say. He's knocked up some peasant wench, and he couldn't be prouder if he'd taken one of King Gainibu's daughters to bed."

Now Krasta drew herself up very straight. "Skarnu and some woman off a farm? I don't believe you." She didn't think her brother immune to lust. Bad taste, however, was an altogether different question.

But Amatu said, "Only shows what you know. I heard him with my own ears- heard more than I ever want to, believe you me. He's as head over heels as if he'd invented this tart, and I'll take oath on that by the powers above."

He meant it. Krasta could see, could hear, as much. She asked, "How do you know all this? If he's with these bandits- were you with them, too?"

"For a little while," Amatu answered. "I spent some time down in Lagoas. When I came back across the Strait to Valmiera, I fell in with those people for a bit. But they haven't got the faintest idea what they're doing to the kingdom. They didn't want to listen to anybody who tried to tell them otherwise, either."

They didn't want to listen to you, and that's why you went over to the Algarvians, Krasta thought. She knew cattiness when she heard it; it came around too often in her own circle to let her mistake it. She was saved from having to say anything when a servant announced, "Milady, lords, supper is ready."

Amatu ate with good appetite, and did a good deal of drinking, too. When Lurcanio saw what the bill of fare was, he sent Krasta a reproachful look. She gave back her own most innocent stare, and said, "Don't you fancy our hearty Valmieran recipes?"

"I certainly do," Amatu said, and helped himself to another slice of tongue. He took a big spoonful of the onions the cook had boiled in the pot with the beef tongues. Lurcanio sighed, as if to say that even his own tool had turned in his hand and cut him. Krasta hid her smile.

After demolishing half the rhubarb pie himself, Amatu took his leave. Lurcanio sat in the dining hall, still sipping a cup of tea. He remarked, "You did not seem very excited about the news he had of your brother."

Krasta shrugged. "He seemed more interested in throwing it in my face than in really telling me anything about Skarnu, so I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He doesn't like Skarnu much, does he?"