Harry Turtledove: Out of the Darkness

“Aye,” Pekka said.

In Fernao’s eyes, the burgomaster of Kajaani was a ridiculous little man: not because he was a Kuusaman-by now, Fernao took Kuusamans altogether for granted-but because he was absurdly self-important. But he didn’t seem ridiculous at all as he asked, “Do you, Fernao, take this woman, Pekka, to be your wife forevermore?”

“Aye.” Fernao did his best to make his voice something more than a husky whisper. His best proved none too good. But the burgomaster nodded, and so did Pekka. They were the people who really counted.

“By the authority vested in me by the people of Kajaani and by the Seven Princes of Kuusamo, I now declare you man and wife,” the burgomaster said. Forevermore. That word seemed to roll down on Fernao like a boulder. He hadn’t come to Kuusamo intending to find a wife-especially not a woman who was then married to somebody else. He hadn’t even found Kuusaman women particularly attractive. But here he was. And what he’d just done did have certain compensations. Beaming, the burgomaster turned to him. “You may now kiss your bride.”

When Fernao did, all the Kuusamans among the guests-everyone, in other words, except for a few cousins and an old uncle of his and Grandmaster Pinhiero- burst into cheers and shouted, “They are married!” Somebody had told him they would do that, but he’d forgotten. It made him jump. In Lagoas, as in most places, passing a ring marked the actual moment of marriage. The Kuusamans did things differently, as they often did.

“I love you,” he told Pekka.

“I love you, too,” she answered. “That’s one of the better reasons for doing this, wouldn’t you say?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Well, now that you mention it. .” Fernao said. Pekka snorted.

“If I may take my usual privilege.. ” The burgomaster kissed her, too. From some of the things Fernao had read, in the old days a Kuusaman chieftain’s privilege had gone a good deal further than that. One more reason to be glad we live in the modern age, Fernao thought.

Where some Kuusaman customs were very different, the receiving line was just the same. He and Pekka stood side by side, shaking hands with people and accepting congratulations. “A pretty ceremony, my boy,” said his uncle, a bony man named Sampaio. “I didn’t understand a word of it, mind you, but very pretty.”

“I’m glad you could come,” Fernao answered. Speaking Lagoan felt distinctly odd; he didn’t do it much these days. But his uncle, a successful builder, knew no Kuusaman and had long since forgotten whatever classical Kaunian he’d learned.

Sampaio stuck an elbow in his ribs and chuckled. “And that’s one blaze of a suit you’ve got on, too,” he said.

Fernao also thought he was on the gaudy side of splendid. But he shrugged and forced a grin. “It’s what they wear here. What can I do about it?”

“Powers below eat me if I know.” Sampaio gave Fernao a hug. “I hope you’re happy with her, boy. She seems nice, even if we can’t talk to each other.”

“Well, I wouldn’t marry her if I didn’t like her,” Fernao said, which made his uncle laugh. He suspected Pekka spoke a little more Lagoan than she let on. No point telling that to his uncle, though; he didn’t think Sampaio would be coming down to Kajaani again anytime soon.

Elimaki came up to him and gave him a fierce hug. “You take good care of my sister,” she said. “You take good care of her, or you answer to me.”

“I will. I intend to,” Fernao said.

“You’d better.” Elimaki made it sound like a threat. Remembering how her marriage had collapsed not so long before, Fernao supposed he understood why she sounded that way, which didn’t make it any less unnerving.

Ilmarinen had a different take on things, as he usually did. Sidling up to Fernao, he said, “I hope it’s still as much fun now that you’ve gone and made it official.”

“Thank you so much for your good wishes,” Fernao exclaimed.

“Always a pleasure, always a pleasure.” Ilmarinen wagged a finger at him. “See what you get for saving me from myself? That’s not the best recipe for getting a man to love you forever, you know.”

“Don’t be silly,” Fernao said. “You didn’t love me even before then.”

Ilmarinen chuckled nastily. “Maybe we understand each other after all. Now I’m going to raid the feast. You have to stand here gabbing with the rest of these bores till half the good stuff’s gone.” And off he went, cackling like a broody hen.

Before Fernao could figure out what to say to that-not that it gave him much room for a comeback-he found himself clasping wrists with Grandmaster Pinhiero. The head of the Lagoan Guild of Mages said, “I didn’t remember meeting her before. Now I’ve got at least some notion of why you were willing to move to the back of beyond. I wish you were still in Setubal, but I hope you’ll be happy.”

“Thank you, sir.” Fernao hadn’t been sure the grandmaster would be even that gracious.

But Pinhiero, he discovered, had other things on his mind besides this wedding. He asked, “Do you know a third-rank mage named Botelho, from down in Ruivaes?”

“I know the town-miserable little place,” Fernao answered. “I’ve never heard of the man.”

“Neither has anyone else,” Pinhiero said grimly. “His documents are all perfect, he passed every obvious sorcerous test with ease-but he turned out to be an Algarvian on masquerade.”

“Powers below eat him!” Fernao said. “Spying for King Mainardo?”

“Worse,” Pinhiero replied. While Fernao was still wondering what could be worse, the grandmaster told him: “Spying for King Swemmel.”

Fernao wished he hadn’t cursed before. He really wanted to do it now. He contented himself with saying, “Swemmel really wants to know things, doesn’t he?”

“Just a bit.” Pinhiero’s voice was dry. “The other interesting question is, how many other Guild members aren’t what they’re supposed to be?”

“You’d do well to find out,” Fernao said. “Me, I’m just as well pleased to be down here, thank you very much.”

“Aye, have a good time while the world’s going down the commode around you,” Pinhiero jeered.

Fernao gave him a bright, cheerful, meaningless smile. “If you think you can make me feel guilty on my wedding day, you’d better think again.”

“Tomorrow won’t be your wedding day, and you’ll still be down here,” the grandmaster said sourly. “You ought to come back to a place where things happen once in a while.”

“If things didn’t happen here, I never would have started working with the Kuusamans in the first place,” Fernao pointed out. Grandmaster Pinhiero scowled at him. I don’t have to take his orders any more, or even listen to his complaints, Fernao thought. He turned away from Pinhiero just in time to see Pekka drop to one knee before a Kuusaman younger than she was. But her folk only do that for. . Fernao needed no more than half the thought before leaning on his cane to bow very low himself. “Your Highness,” he murmured.

“As you were, both of you,” Prince Juhainen said. Pekka rose; Fernao straightened. The prince went on, “Powers above grant that you spend many happy years together.”

“Thank you very much, your Highness,” Fernao and Pekka said together. They smiled at each other. Juhainen smiled, too, and moved on toward the reception inside Elimaki’s house. In a low voice, Fernao said, “Well, sweetheart, if you have any kin who haven’t been giving you enough respect, one of the Seven Princes at your wedding ought to do the job.”

“I don’t know,” Pekka said. “People like that would complain because I didn’t have two or three of the Seven down here.”