Harry Turtledove - Jaws of Darkness

“You might want to bear one thing in mind,” Skarnu said. “If you do lose this war, your enemies will remember everything you did while you held their kingdoms down. How large a price do you want to pay after your armies can’t fight any more?”

For once, ColonelLurcanio had no quick answer, no snappy comeback. He eyed Skarnu with no liking, but with wary respect nonetheless. “There is enough between your ears for sparks to strike, is there not?” he remarked. “Your sister is prettier than you, but her head is empty.”

With a shrug of his own-he didn’t want to show Lurcanio he agreed with him-Skarnu said, “That’s also something to talk about some other time. But if you start killing Valmierans for the sport of it, think what will happen when Valmieran soldiers march into Algarve.”

Lurcanio raised an eyebrow. “And if our best chance to keep Valmieran soldiers from ever marching into Algarve lies in killing all the Valmieran civilians we can lay our hands on?”

This time, “Tytuvenai” spoke before Skarnu could: “If you try something like that, Algarvian, you’d better be sure you do win. Can you do that? Trying and losing anyhow will be worse than not trying at all.”

ButColonelLurcanio shook his head. “By the powers above, nothing would be worse than not trying at all.” He and the two Valmierans eyed one another in perfect mutual incomprehension.

“We will not attack ley-line caravans taking your soldiers out of Valmiera if you don’t take our civilians out with you and if you don’t start killing them for your magecraft,” Skarnu said. “If you do, everything is fair game. And we reckon any caravan bringing your soldiersinto Valmiera is fair game, too.”

“That is not right. That is not just,” Lurcanio said. “Many-most, even-of the men we bring here do not come to fight. They come for leave from the fight they have been making in the west.”

“They’re still soldiers,” Skarnu said. “If you give them sticks, what will they do? Start to dance?”

He surprised a laugh out of the Algarvian colonel. “There may perhaps be something to that,” Lurcanio said. “I speak for myself when I say so, however, not forGrand DukeIvone. You were an officer. You will understand the need for following orders.”

Skarnu started to nod. “Tytuvenai” broke in, saying, “Some orders are wicked. No one should follow those. Anyone who follows an order to murder people deserves whatever happens to him.”

“Anyone who lets his kingdom lose a war it might win deserves whatever happens to him,” Lurcanio answered. They glared at one another once more, at a fresh impasse. Lurcanio said. “Can we agree to anything?” he asked.

“Leave our civilians alone, and we’ll let your caravans leave in peace,” Skarnu said.

“We had that bargain before, or so I thought,” Lurcanio said. “SoKingGainibu hinted, at any rate.”

Maybe he thought the king’s name would fill the Valmierans with overwhelming awe. And maybe it would have… before the war. Skarnu said, “These past four years, we’ve been on our own. We haven’t paid much attention to his Majesty-and that’s the fault of you Algarvians. Why should we start over now?”

He hadn’t seenColonelLurcanio taken aback till then. “Why? Because he is your sovereign, of course,” the redhead-actually, he’d gone quite gray-replied.

“He’s welcome to reign,” “Tytuvenai” said. “Why should he rule? What has he done for us lately?”

Lurcanio wagged a finger at him, a very Algarvian gesture. “If we should ever leave this kingdom, you will find that he still intends to rule, mark my words. May you have joy of it.” He paused. “I think we have said everything that wants saying.” He paused again, then nodded to Skarnu. “Have you any message for your sister?”

“I have no sister,” Skarnu said stonily. “No point even telling her you saw me.”

“You take this business altogether too seriously,” Lurcanio said. Skarnu did not reply. The Algarvian shrugged. “It shall be as you wish, of course.” He turned and strode away.

Skarnu started to call something after him, but didn’t. What point to it? What was Lurcanio but an enemy? He might be-Skarnu thought he was- an honest enemy, but an enemy he remained. Skarnu turned to “Tytuvenai.” He nodded once. “Let’s go,” he said.

After a long, deep, restful night’s sleep, ColonelSpinello yawned, stretched, and finally opened his eyes. The mattress was large and soft; the house not far outside of Eoforwic had, he thought, belonged to a Kaunian before Kaunians in Forthweg fell on hard times. It was ever so much more comfortable than lying down on bare dirt, which he’d done far too often while escaping the disaster that had overtaken the Algarvian armies in northern Unkerlant.

“Not so bad, eh, sweetheart?” he said.

When Jadwigai didn’t answer, Spinello rolled over toward her. She wasn’t lying in bed beside him, either. He shrugged. No law said she couldn’t get up before him, though he wouldn’t have minded pinning her to that soft, resilient mattress just then: why not start the day with pleasure, when it was all too likely to end in death or some other disaster?

Spinello pulled on his tunic and kilt and ambled out into the kitchen to see what Jadwigai had put together for breakfast, or what he could. Some Algarvians-the ones who’d never gone west to fight in Unkerlant-complained about how miserable things were in Forthweg. Spinello and the others who’d been driven out of Swemmel’s kingdom only laughed-they knew better.

“Jadwigai?” Spinello called when he didn’t see her. She didn’t answer. He shrugged again, and went to get himself some food. Bread and olive oil and wine wasn’t his favorite breakfast, but it beat the blazes out of bugs and nasty, sour berries and swamp water.

A leaf of paper lay on top of what was left of the loaf of black bread. Spinello picked it up. He hadn’t seen Jadwigai’s script before, but this couldn’t belong to anyone else. His own name was written on one side of the paper. He turned it over to the other.

By the time you read this, Jadwigai had written in classical Kaunian, Iwill be gone. I do thank you for saving me in the fight and flight through Unkerlant. I know you did not do it all for my sake, but also for your own. Even so, you did it, and I am grateful.

But I also know what happens to Kaunians in Algarvian hands. I know it could happen to me if you get hurt or get tired of me. I have learned that Kaunians, these days, have little trouble looking like Forthwegians. I would rather do that than live the way I have been living. Even if Unkerlant conquers Forthweg, I would rather do that.

I do not wish you ill, not in your own person. I do not wish ill on any of the men of the Albarese Regiment who still live. They could have killed me or kept me to give their bodies relief until I died, and they did not. But I do not want Algarve to win this war. I find I cannot forget after all that I am a Kaunian. Farewell.

She’d scrawled her name under the note.

Spinello plucked at his chin beard (he’d neatened up after returning to civilized company). Jadwigai had been naive to leave the leaf of paper. If he wanted to, he could give it to a mage to use the law of contagion to track her through it. Should I do that? He stroked his chin again. She wouldn’t be happy, or anything close to it.

Of course, he’d enjoyed bedding Vanai precisely because she hadn’t been happy about it. But things would be different with Jadwigai. He’d be breaking a bond of trust if he hauled her back. He’d never had one with Vanai, only a bargain: her body in exchange for keeping her grandfather from getting worked to death on a road gang. Jadwigai could have killed him or betrayed him to the Unkerlanters more times than he could count.