JAWS OF DARKNESS
Harry Turtledove
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2003 by Harry Turtledove
The Derlavai War
Into the Darkness
Darkness Descending
Through the Darkness
Rulers of the Darkness
Jaws of Darkness
Out of the Darkness
Dramatis Personae:
(* shows viewpoint character)
Algarve
Almonio Constable in Gromheort
Ambaldo Colonel of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Baiardo Mage attached to Plegmund's Brigade
Balastro Marquis; minister to Zuwayza
Bembo* Constable in Gromheort
Carietto Brigadier in Trapani
Domiziano Captain of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Ercole Senior lieutenant with Plegmund's Brigade
Fronesia Woman at court in Trapani
Frontino Warder in Tricarico
Gastable Mage in Gromheort
Gismonda Sabrino's wife in Trapani
Gradasso Lurcanio's adjutant in Priekule
Lurcanio Colonel on occupation duty in Priekule
Mainardo Mezentio's brother; King of Jelgava
Malindo Scholar in Trapani
Mezentio King of Algarve
Oraste Constable in Gromheort
Orosio Captain of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Pesaro Constabulary sergeant in Gromheort
Raniero Mezentio's cousin; King of Grelz
Sabrino* Colonel of dragonfliers in southern Unkerlant
Saffa Sketch artist in Tricarico
Solino General in Durrwangen
Spinello* Major on leave in Trapani for wound
Turpino Captain in Wriezen
Zerbino Captain in Plegmund's Brigade
Forthweg
Baldred Slogan writer in Eoforwic
Brivibas Kaunian in Gromheort; Vanai's grandfather
Brorda Count of Gromheort
Ceorl Soldier in Plegmund's Brigade near Hohenroda
Daukantis Kaunian in Gromheort; Doldasai's father
Doldasai Kaunian courtesan in Gromheort
Ealstan* Bookkeeper in Eoforwic; Vanai's husband
Ethelhelm Half Kaunian band leader in Eoforwic
Feliksai Kaunian in Gromheort; Doldasai's mother
Gippias Kaunian robber in Gromheort
Hestan Bookkeeper in Gromheort; Ealstan's father
Leofsig Ealstan's deceased brother
Nemunas Kaunian refugee leader in Zuwayza
Penda King of Forthweg
Pernavai Kaunian in Valmiera; Vatsyunas' wife
Pybba Pottery magnate in Eoforwic
Sidroc* Soldier in Plegmund's Brigade near Hohenroda
Vanai* Kaunian in Eoforwic; Ealstan's wife
Vatsyunas Kaunian in Valmiera; Pernavai's husband
Vitols Kaunian refugee leader in Zuwayza
Werferth Sergeant in Plegmund's Brigade near Hohenroda
Yadwigai Kaunian girl with Algarvian army in Unkerlant
Gyongyos
Arpad Ekrekek (King) of Gyongyos
Borsos Major; mage in western Unkerlant
Frigyes Captain in western Unkerlant
Hevesi Soldier in western Unkerlant
Horthy Gyongyosian minister to Zuwayza
Istvan* Sergeant in western Unkerlant
Kun Corporal in western Unkerlant; minor mage
Lajos Soldier in western Unkerlant
Szonyi Soldier in western Unkerlant
Tivadar Captain in western Unkerlant
Jelgava
Ausra Talsu's sister in Skrunda
Donalitu King of Jelgava; now in exile
Gailisa Talsu's wife, living in Skrunda
Kugu Silversmith in Skrunda
Laitsina Talsu's mother in Skrunda
Stikliu Friend of Talsu's in Skrunda
Talsu* Prisoner from Skrunda
Traku Talsu's father; tailor in Skrunda
Zverinu Banker in Skrunda
Kuusamo
Alkio Theoretical sorcerer; married to Raahe
Elimaki Pekka's sister
Ilmarinen Master mage in the Naantali district
Juhainen One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Leino Mage; Pekka's husband
Linna Serving woman in the Naantali district
Olavin Banker; Elimaki's husband
Parainen One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Pekka* Magein the Naantali district; Leino's wife
Piilis Theoretical sorcerer
Raahe Theoretical sorcerer; married to Alkio
Renavall One of the Seven Princes of Kuusamo
Siuntio Master mage in the Naantali district
Uto Pekka and Leino's son
Vihti Sorcerer in Naantali district
Lagoas
Brinco Grandmaster Pinhiero's secretary in Setubal
Fernao* Mageon duty in Kuusamo
Janira Cornelu's lady friend in Setubal
Pinhiero Grandmaster of Lagoan Guild of Mages
Vitor King of Lagoas
Ortah
Ahinadab King of Ortah
Hadadezer Ortaho minister to Zuwayza
Sibiu
Balio Fisherman running eatery in Setubal; Janira's father
Brindza Cornelu's daughter in Tirgoviste town
Burebistu King of Sibiu
Cornelu* Commander; leviathan-rider in Setubal
Costache Cornelu's wife in Tirgoviste town
Unkerlant
Addanz Archmage of Unkerlant
Ascovind Collaborator in Duchy of Grelz
Gandiluz Soldier contacting irregulars in Grelz
Garivald* Irregular fighter west of Herborn
Gundioc Captain in southern Unkerlant
Gurmun General of behemoths at Durrwangen bulge
Kiun Soldier in Leudast's company
Kyot Swemmel's deceased twin brother
Leudast* Sergeant in Sulingen
Merovec Major; Marshal Rathar's adjutant
Munderic Irregular leader west of Herborn
Obilot Irregular fighter west of Herborn
Rathar* Marshal of Unkerlant traveling to Cottbus
Razalic Irregular in forest west of Herborn
Recared Lieutenant in Sulingen
Sadoc Irregular fighter west of Herborn; would-bemage
Swemmel King of Unkerlant
Tantris Soldier contacting irregulars in Grelz
Vatran General in southern Unkerlant
Werbel Soldier in Sulingen
Ysolt Cook in Durrwangen
Valmiera
Amatu Noble returned from Valmiera
Bauska Krasta's maidservant in Priekule
Gainibu King of Valmiera
Gedominu Skarnu and Merkela's son
Krasta* Marchioness in Priekule; Skarnu's sister
Lauzdonu Noble returned from Valmiera
Merkela Underground fighter; Skarnu's wife
Palasta Mage in Erzvilkas
Raunu Sergeant and irregular near Pavilosta
Skarnu* Marquis; fighter in Ventspils; Krasta's brother
Terbatu Marquis in Priekule
Valnu Viscount in Priekule
Zarasai Underground fighter; a nom deguerre
Yanina
Iskakis Yaninan minister to Zuwayza
Zuwayza
Hajjaj* Foreign minister of Zuwayza
Kolthoum Hajjaj's senior wife
Qutuz Hajjaj's secretary in Bishah
Shazli King of Zuwayza
Tewfik Hajjaj's majordomo
Qutuz Hajjaj's secretary in Bishah
One
Ealstan added up a long column of figures. The young bookkeeper let out a sigh of relief when the answer turned out to be what he’d expected. Bearing the ledger into his employer’s private office, he told Pybba, “Those Algarvians are going to make us rich.”
“Good,” the pottery magnate rumbled. “We’ll give ‘em some of their silver back, too, and not the way they expect.” Pybba wasn’t only the biggest pottery maker in Eoforwic—and, for that matter, in all of Forthweg. He was also one of the leaders in the underground struggle against the Algarvian invaders who occupied his kingdom.
“What do you suppose they want with fifty thousand Style Seventeen sugar bowls?” Ealstan asked. The question had bothered him ever since an Algarvian colonel marched in to place the order.
Pybba’s broad shoulders went up and down in a shrug. “Powers below eat the redheads, whatever it is.” His eyes flicked down to the bottom of the column. He nodded. “That’s not a bad pile of change, eh? Why don’t you go on home now? Your wife’ll be waiting for you, I expect.”
“Aye, she will. Thanks.” Ealstan was glad to have leave to head for his flat.
Pybba showed no sign of going anywhere. His bushy beard was shot with gray, but he went home later and came to work earlier than anybody he employed. “Go on,” he growled now. “Get out of here, before I change my mind.”
Odds were, he wasn’t joking. Ealstan set the ledger on his own slanted worktable, then got out while the getting was good. Twilight spread gloom across Eoforwic, though the occupied capital of the Kingdom of Forthweg seemed sad and gray and gloomy enough even at midday.
A couple of tall, lean Algarvian constables swaggered past Ealstan. Their arrogant stride made them stand out as much as their coppery hair and their short tunics and pleated kilts. Forthwegian men wore knee-length tunics like Ealstan’s; Forthwegian women wore loose tunics that reached their ankles. Men and women alike were stocky and swarthy, with dark hair and eyes and strong noses.
Some of the people on the street were almost certainly of Kaunian blood, too. But most of the Kaunians left alive in Eoforwic these days were sorcer-ously disguised to look like their Forthwegian neighbors. The Algarvians hated Kaunians as ancient enemies, and sacrificed them in droves to use their life energy to fuel potent sorceries in their war against Unkerlant to the west. Few Forthwegians cared what happened to their blond neighbors.
Ealstan was one of those few. Vanai, his wife, was a Kaunian. She was also the one who’d devised the sorcery that let her folk masquerade as Forthwegians. These days, she went by Thelberge, a Forthwegian name. Her own would have been plenty to betray her.
Not so long after winter yielded to spring, she would have their first child. Ealstan frowned a little as he walked along, wondering if the baby would need a spell cast over it every few hours for years to come. He hoped not. Some half-breed children looked altogether Forthwegian.
After a few paces, his frown deepened. Since she’d got pregnant, Vanai’s protective spell hadn’t been holding as long as it did before she found herself with child. If it happened to wear off while she was away from the flat…
His fingers writhed in an apotropaic sign. “Powers above, prevent it,” he said softly. They had so far. He had to hope they would keep on doing it. Vanai was careful. She knew the risk, too, of course. But she couldn’t see the illusion that fooled everyone else. The greatest danger lay there. She couldn’t see it stop fooling people, either.
Such worries dogged Ealstan about every other night on the way home. They made him walk faster, a lump of dread in his throat, as if an Algarvian constable were about to lay hold of him for being a Kaunian. His laugh held no mirth. He wasn’t a Kaunian. To the Algarvians, he was that even more suspicious creature, a Kaunian-lover. But being a Kaunian-lover didn’t show.
Here was his own street. Here was his own block. Here was his block of flats, a dingy building in a bad part of town. He and Vanai had stayed here ever since coming to Eoforwic from Gromheort and her village of Oyngestun in the east.
He went up the stairs into the cramped, dark lobby. He paused there, at the brass bank of post boxes, to see if anyone had sent him a letter. His family back in Gromheort knew where he lived. He didn’t think Vanai had any living family, not any more.
She has me, he thought, and hurried up the stairs to his flat. The narrow stairway had a familiar reek: stale cabbage and stale piss. Sometimes it disgusted him. But he’d lived here long enough that sometimes, as tonight, it just felt homey.
Back when he and Vanai first moved in, before she’d crafted the spell that let her look like a Forthwegian, she’d stayed holed up in the flat all the time, like a trapped animal. They’d worked out a coded knock, to let her know it was safe to unbar the door and let him in. He still used it, more from habit than from any other reason.
He knocked and waited. When Vanai didn’t come to the door, he knocked again, louder this time. She fell asleep a lot more easily than she had before she got pregnant.
When she still didn’t come, he knocked once more, louder still. He frowned and took from his belt pouch the long brass key that could work the latch from the outside. If the door was barred, of course, working the latch wouldn’t matter one way or the other. He turned the key and pushed at the door, not expecting to be able to get in. But it swung open.
“Van—?” he began, but checked himself. He tried again, calling, “Thelberge? Are you there, sweetheart?”
No answer. The flat was quiet and dark, no lamps lit, as if nobody’d been inside since well before the sun went down. Fighting back alarm, Ealstan hurried into the bedchamber. Vanai wasn’t lying there sound asleep. She wasn’t sitting on the pot, which she also needed to do more than she had before quickening.
He’d already seen she wasn’t in the front room or the kitchen. He went back there anyway. “Thelberge?” Fear made his voice quaver.
Only silence answered. Little by little, Ealstan realized he hadn’t known what fear meant. Now he did.
My neighbors, he thought wildly. Maybe my neighbors know something. Trouble was, he hardly knew his neighbors. For one thing, they kept coming and going—this block of flats wasn’t the sort of place where people settled down to live out the rest of their lives. And, for another, because of who and what Vanai was, she and Ealstan hadn’t gone out of their way to make friends. If anything, they’d gone out of their way to keep to themselves.
But he had to try. Thinking about the alternative … Ealstan didn’t want to, he wouldn’t, think about the alternative. Imagining Vanai in Algarvian hands … He shook his head. He wouldn ‘t think about that.
He knocked on the door to the next-door flat closer to the stairs. Silence. He knocked again. “Go away,” someone inside said—a woman’s voice.
“I’m your neighbor,” Ealstan began, “and I’d like to ask you—”
“Go away,” she said again, “or else I start screaming.”
“Powers below eat you,” he muttered under his breath, but he went away, to the flat on the other side of his. Wondering what would go wrong now, he knocked on the door there.
This time, at least, it opened. A gray-bearded man stood in the doorway. His narrow eyes had all the warmth of chips of ice. “What do you want, kid?” he demanded. “Whatever it is, make it snappy.”
“I don’t mean to bother you,” Ealstan said, “but have you seen my wife today? She was supposed to be home when I got back, and she’s not. She’s expecting a baby, so I’m worried.”
“Haven’t seen her.” His neighbor shook his head. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded as if he never wanted to see Ealstan again. And when he slammed the door, Ealstan had to jump back in a hurry to keep from getting his nose flattened.
He stood in the hallway cursing softly, wondering whether even
to bother knocking on the door across the hall from his. At last, with a sort of despairing shrug, he did. “Who is it?” came from inside: another woman’s voice.
“Ealstan, your neighbor from across the hall,” he answered, wondering if she’d open the door.
To his surprise, she did. She was somewhere in her late thirties—which, to Ealstan’s nineteen, made her seem almost grandmotherly, though little by little he realized she wasn’t really bad looking. She eyed him with frank appraisal. “Well, hello, Ealstan from across the hall,” she said when she was through, and breathed brandy fumes into his face. “I’m Ebbe. What can I do for you, dear? Want to borrow a cup of olive oil? You should have knocked a long time ago.”
Did that mean what it sounded like? Ealstan had more urgent things to worry about. “I don’t mean to bother you—” he began, as he had to his other neighbor.
“Oh, you’re not bothering me at all,” Ebbe broke in. Aye, she’d been drinking brandy, all right.
Rather desperately, Ealstan plunged ahead: “Have you seen my wife today? She should have been waiting for me when I got home, but she isn’t. I’m worried—she’s expecting a baby.”
“No, darling, I haven’t seen a soul today—till you” Ebbe answered. “But why don’t you come on in anyway? If she’s not there, maybe I’ll do.”
Ealstan fled. Back inside his own flat, he barred the door as if all the Algarvians in Forthweg were after him. He wondered if Ebbe would come knocking in turn. To his vast relief, she didn’t.
But that relief quickly passed. The Algarvians in Forthweg weren’t after him. They were after Vanai—and he was horribly afraid they had her.
He ate barley bread and olive oil and salted, garlic-tangy almonds for supper, washing the food down with harsh red wine. Then, instead of talking and laughing and probably making love with Vanai, he spent the longest, loneliest, most miserable night he’d ever passed. He might have slept a little. On the other hand, he might not have, too.