Rulers of the Darkness

Like everything Kun said, that sounded wise. Szonyi grunted and finally, reluctantly, nodded. Istvan wasn't so sure. Even as a sergeant, he'd seen that the tricks by which men led other men weren't so simple. Casting light on those tricks made leading harder. Considering the way the war was going, maybe Kun should have kept his mouth shut.

***

Garivald had never seen so many Unkerlanter soldiers in all his born days. They swarmed through the forest west of Herborn and clogged the roads north and south of the woods. With every passing day, the band of irregulars he led looked less and less important. In fact, it hardly seemed his band at all any more. Tantris gave more orders than he did, and seemed happier doing it.

No matter how happy Tantris seemed, people started slipping away from the band under cover of night. A couple of years before, they'd slipped into the woods the same way to join the irregulars. The first couple of inspectors- or were they impressers? -joined Tantris not long after Herborn fell to King Swemmel's soldiers. Garivald didn't like the way they huddled with the regular. He didn't like the way they looked at him, either.

After darkness fell that night, he spoke to Obilot in a low whisper: "I'm going to get away while I still have the chance."

She nodded. "You think they mean to shove a uniform tunic on you." It wasn't a question.

"I think they mean to shove a uniform tunic on me and send me wherever it's hottest and get me killed," Garivald answered. "After all, I've led fighters who weren't taking orders straight from King Swemmel's men."

"You're going to slide off?" Obilot said.

"I already said so," he answered. "I'm not going to waste a minute, either- I don't intend to be here when the sun comes up tomorrow." He took her hand. "This isn't the way I wanted to say goodbye, but…"

"I'll come with you, if you want," she said.

Garivald stared. "But-" he said again.

"But I'm a woman?" Obilot asked. "But they won't shove a uniform tunic on me? So what? I wish they would. It'd let me go on killing Algarvians. But you're right; they won't. And so I'll come with you. If you want."

"You know where I'll be going," Garivald said slowly.

"Back to Zossen," Obilot answered. "Back to your wife and your children. Aye, I know. That's why I said what I said the way I said it."

"What will you do once I get there?" he asked.

Obilot shrugged. "I don't know. That'll be partly up to you, anyhow. But maybe you could use somebody to watch your back on the way- and we'll have another few days together, anyhow. Past that…" She shrugged again. "I never have worried much about what happens next. When it happens, I'll worry about it."

"All right." Garivald kissed her. Part of him was ashamed of himself: he might lie with her a couple of more times on the way back to Annore, his wife. But another part of him eagerly looked forward to that. And yet another part warned he might well need a companion, and maybe a fellow fighter, before he got to Zossen. "Let's wait till midnight or so, and then we'll see if we can sneak off."

Getting out of camp, going from leader of the band of irregulars to fugitive, proved easier than he'd expected. No one challenged him as he slipped away. Tantris and the inspectors snored drunkenly by a fire. So much for efficiency, Garivald thought. Obilot joined him a few minutes after he left his hut. "If they really want to, they'll be able to follow our tracks in the snow," she said.

"I know." Garivald grimaced. "The Algarvians and the Grelzers could do the same thing in wintertime." Now he was worried about pursuit from his own side, from the side he still preferred to the expelled enemy and their puppets. He started away from the encampment. "Let's get to a road. Then our tracks won't be the only ones."

"How far is Zossen?" Obilot asked as they slipped through the trees.

"I don't know. Forty, fifty, sixty miles- something like that," Garivald answered with a shrug. "I was never more than a day's walk away from it till the redheads grabbed and and took me off to Herborn. They were going to boil me the way King Swemmel boiled Raniero, but Munderic waylaid 'em when they cut through the woods instead of going around. So I've seen Zossen and I've seen the forest and what's around it, but I haven't hardly seen whatever's in between, if you know what I mean."

Obilot nodded. "I hadn't been far from my village before the Algarvians came, either. Just to the market town. I don't think anything's left of either one of them. Our army fought there, but we didn't win."

"They were going to make a stand in Zossen, too," Garivald said. "But before they could, they heard the redheads had outflanked them, and so they fell back."

An icy breeze blew out of the west. Garivald steered by it. It was all he had, with clouds covering the stars. Somewhere not far away, an owl hooted. "I'd rather hear that than wolves," Obilot remarked.