'If they do run them out of Unkerlant, they'll run them back into Forthweg- and then they'll come after them,' Vanai said. 'That stands to reason, too.'
'Aye.' To her surprise, Ealstan didn't look so happy about it. He explained why: 'We don't get rid of our occupiers. We only trade one set for another.'
'It's a good trade,' Vanai said. Ealstan nodded, but with something less than full enthusiasm. It would certainly be a good trade for Forthweg's surviving Kaunians; the Unkerlanters didn't much care about Kaunianity one way or the other. But an Unkerlanter occupation might not be such a good trade for the Forthwegians themselves. The men of Swemmel's kingdom liked them no better than they liked Unkerlanters.
Wistfully, Ealstan said, 'It would be nice if King Penda could just come back.'
Vanai reached across the table and set her hand on his. 'Aye, it would,' she said, giving him- and Penda- the benefit of the doubt as he'd given it to the idea of an Unkerlanter occupation.
As she was washing the supper dishes, Ealstan came up behind her and began to caress her. 'Be careful,' she warned him.
'I am,' he said, and he was. Vanai had trouble concentrating on the dishes. Her breasts had grown more tender since she'd started expecting a baby, but they'd also grown more sensitive. After a little while, she decided the dishes could wait. She turned and put her arms around Ealstan.
Forthwegian-style tunics were easier to get out of than the short tunics and trousers she'd worn back in Oyngestun. Certain post-imperial Kaunian writers had used that truth to sneer at the morals of Forthwegian women. Back in the bedchamber, Vanai simply found it convenient.
Afterwards, she rubbed her upper lip; Ealstan's mustache had tickled her when their lips clung while they made love. 'I'm happy with you,' he said.
'Good,' she answered. 'I'm happy with you, too.' She kissed him again, careless of that vicious mustache. She meant it. The accursed Algarvian officer who'd introduced her to what passed between man and woman might have been- probably had been- more skilled in this and that than Ealstan was. But so what? It wasn't even that Spinello hadn't wanted her to have pleasure. He had- so her pleasure could give him more. But his own delight came first, always. Ealstan wanted to give her pleasure for her sake, not his. He might have given a little less, but she took ever so much more.
Spinello went off to Unkerlant, she reminded herself. With any luck at all, he's dead, horribly dead, or else crippled or in torment from his wounds. A lot of Algarvian officers go to Unkerlant. Not so many come back in one piece.
'What are you thinking?' Ealstan asked. He would do that every once in a while, after lovemaking or just out of the blue.
Usually, Vanai felt obligated to answer with the truth. Tonight, she gave him only part of it: 'I love you.'
As she'd known it would be, that was the part he wanted to hear. He squeezed her to him. 'I'm glad,' he said. 'I don't know where I'd be without you.'
You'd be back in Gromheort with your family, she thought. If you weren't already married to some Forthwegian girl, you'd be pledged to one. You're too good a catch not to be. I ought to know.
But where would I be without you? Maybe I would have lasted long enoughin the Kaunian district in Gromheort to come up with the spell that lets Kaunians look like Forthwegians. Maybe. Or maybe somebody else would have come up with it by now. Maybe. She tried to make herself believe either of those things. It wasn't easy. Odds are, Mezentio's men would have shipped me west. I wouldn't be here worrying about it. I wouldn't be anywhere at all.
She clung to Ealstan. 'I'm very lucky,' she said.
He squeezed her again, this time till she could hardly breathe. 'You make me lucky,' he said. Vanai didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at that. It was absurd, but magnificently absurd. The baby kicked. 'I felt that!' Ealstan exclaimed, which was hardly surprising, considering how tight he held her. 'He's getting stronger.'
'That's what he's supposed to do,' Vanai answered. 'He's getting bigger, too.' She rolled away from Ealstan and onto her back, then lifted her head so she could look at herself. Her belly definitely bulged now. Pretty soon, even her baggy Forthwegian tunics wouldn't be able to hide her pregnancy any more. 'And so am I.'
He set his hand on the swelling below her navel. 'That's what you're supposed to do, too.' Before very long, his hand wandered lower. He was still young enough to be able to make love about as often as the thought crossed his mind.
As he began to stroke her, Vanai said, 'This is how my belly started getting big in the first place.'
Laughing, Ealstan shook his head. 'My hand had nothing to do with that.' But, what with what followed, Vanai wasn't wrong, either. Both of them slept soundly that night.
When they woke, it was later in the morning than usual. Vanai wasn't surprised when Ealstan told her her sorcerous disguise had slipped. She repaired it while he gobbled bread and almonds and wine for breakfast. 'Is everything all right?' she asked when she finished the spell.
He nodded. 'Fine,' he said with his mouth full. 'Pybba's going to burst like an egg if I don't get to work on time.'
'No, he won't,' Vanai said. 'He knows you do good work, and he knows you do plenty of work, too. You just take him too seriously when he starts roaring and bellowing.'
'If you'd listened to him roaring and bellowing as much as I have, you'd take him seriously, too.' Ealstan dug a finger into one ear, as if to say listening to Pybba had left him half deaf. From her own brief meeting with the pottery magnate, Vanai could readily believe that. Ealstan gave her a quick kiss tasting of wine and hurried out the door. She rolled her eyes. He talked about listening to Pybba, but he hadn't listened to her.
She ate her own breakfast at a more leisurely clip. Then she put some silver in her handbag and went downstairs. Her thoughts of the evening before convinced her she needed a couple of new tunics, cut even more loosely than the ones she already owned. Forthwegian women just didn't display the contours of their bodies. If she was to seem a proper Forthwegian woman, she couldn't, either.
Down on the streets, news-sheet vendors shouted out their headlines. They still said nothing about King Raniero boiled alive. Their cry was, 'Algarvian drive toward Herborn storms on! Plegmund's brave Brigade spearheads assault!' Vanai did not buy a news sheet.
She did buy a couple of tunics in a linen-wool blend. They would do for any but very cold days, and she could wear a cloak over them then. Picking colors was harder than it had been before she donned a Forthwegian appearance, and took a while. Forthwegians could and did wear stronger colors than she would have chosen while she still looked like her fair-haired Kaunian self. The shopgirl seemed to mean it when she particularly praised the green of one tunic, which left Vanai pleased with herself as she headed back to the flat with her purchases.
She didn't have far to go, but she'd got less than halfway when she noticed people staring at her. She wondered why, but not for more than a couple of strides. Then panic seized her. The spell must have worn off, leaving her looking like what she really was. In Eoforwic these days, what she really was could easily prove fatal.
Vanai began to run. Only a couple of blocks to the flat. If she could just get inside… She hurried past the apothecary's where she dared not stop anymore, rounded a corner- and almost ran over two Algarvian constables.
They were startled, but not too startled to grab her. 'Well, well, what having we here?' one of them said. But he knew. They both knew too well. 'You coming with us, Kaunian. Magic not working, eh? You arresting.' Vanai screamed and kicked and clawed, but she couldn't get away. And no one on the street tried to help her. No one at all. Somehow, that was the worst of it.
