wound badges, and what the troops called the frozen-meat medal marking service in Unkerlant the first winter of the war against Swemmel. 'Perhaps you do, sir,' Spinello admitted. 'But you might have been someone just in from Trapani, too.'
'In which case, you'd've made me feel guilty for being clean and safe, eh?' the colonel said. 'I'd be angrier at you if I hadn't played those games every now and again, too. As things are, I'm trying to arrange another field command for myself.'
'I hope you get one, sir,' Spinello said. 'Anybody can be a hero back here. You've shown you can do it where it counts.'
The colonel rose from his chair so he could bow. 'You are too kind,' he murmured. 'And you have made a respectable name for yourself as a combat soldier, I might add. If you hadn't, we would have left you here in a sector where nothing much ever happens. As things are, you'll serve the kingdom where it really matters.'
'Good.' Hearing himself sound so fierce, Spinello started to laugh. 'Can you believe, sir, that before this war started I was more interested in the archaeology and literature of the Kaunian Empire than in how to outflank a fortified position?'
'Life is to live. Life is to enjoy- till duty calls,' the colonel answered. 'Me, I was a beekeeper. Some of the honeys my hives turned out won prizes at agricultural shows all over Algarve. Now, though, I have to pay attention to behemoths, not bees.'
'I understand,' Spinello said. 'If they're sending us south, does that mean we aim to have another go at Durrwangen once the ground really gets hard?'
'I can't tell you for a fact, Major, because I don't know,' the colonel said. 'But if you can read a map, I expect you'll draw certain conclusions. I would.'
Now Major Spinello bowed. 'I think you've answered me, sir. Where am I to pick up the drafts of men who will bring my regiment to full strength?'
'We've taken over a couple of what used to be hostels down the street from the caravan depot,' the colonel replied. 'At the moment, we've got a brigade just in from occupation duty in Jelgava. Three companies have your name on them. Speak with one of the officers there; they'll take care of you. If they don't, send them on to me and I'll take care of them.' He sounded as if he relished the prospect.
Spinello laughed again. 'From Jelgava, eh? Poor bastards. They'll be wondering what in blazes hit 'em. And then they go down south? Powers above, they won't enjoy that much. I hope they'll be able to fight.'
'They'll manage,' the other Algarvian officer said. 'This past winter, we had a brigade from Valmiera get out of its caravan in a blizzard in a depot the Unkerlanters were attacking right that minute. They gave Swemmel's men a prime boot in the balls.'
'Good for them!' Spinello clapped his hands together. 'May we do the same.'
'Aye, may you indeed,' the colonel agreed. 'Meanwhile, though, go collar your new men. Make sure the ones you already have are able to climb into their caravan cars day after tomorrow. We'll try not to halt 'em at a depot where they have to fight their way off.'
'Generous of you, sir,' Spinello said, saluting. 'I'll do everything you told me, just as you said. I won't be sorry to go down south again.' He reached up and touched his own wound badge. 'I owe the Unkerlanters down there a little something, that I do.'
'And you believe in paying your debts?' the colonel asked.
'Every one of them, sir,' Spinello answered solemnly. 'Every single one- with interest.'
'Hello, there,' Ealstan said to the doorman at Ethelhelm's block of flats. 'I got a message he wanted to see me.' He didn't bother hiding his distaste. He wished he hadn't come at all, but had ignored the band leader and singer who couldn't break with the Algarvians.
And then the doorman said, 'You got a message from whom, sir?'
Ealstan stared. This fellow had been letting him into the building for months so he could cast the singer's accounts. Had he suddenly gone soft in the head? 'Why, from Ethelhelm, of course,' he answered.
'Ah.' The doorman nodded and looked wise. 'I thought that might be whom you meant, sir. But I must tell you, that gentleman no longer resides here.'
'Oh, really?' Ealstan said, and the doorman nodded again. Ealstan asked, 'Did he leave a forwarding address?'
'No, sir.' Now the doorman shook his head. His cultured veneer slipped. 'Why do you want to know? Did he skip out owing you money, too?'
Too? Ealstan thought. But he also shook his head. 'No. As a matter of fact, we were square. But why did he ask me to come here if he knew he was going to disappear?'
'Maybe he didn't know,' the doorman said. 'He just up and left a couple of days ago. All kinds of people have been looking for him.' He sighed. 'Powers above, you should see some of the women who've been looking for him. If they were looking for me, I'd make cursed sure they found me, I would.'
'I believe that.' Ealstan decided to risk a somewhat more dangerous question: 'Have the Algarvians come looking for him, too?'
'Haven't they just!' the doorman exclaimed. 'More of those buggers than you can shake a stick at. And this one redheaded piece…' His hands described an hourglass in the air. 'Her kilt was so short, I don't hardly know why she bothered wearing it at all.' He made a chopping motion at his own knee-length tunic, just below crotch level, to show what he meant.
Vanai had talked about seeing Algarvian women in the baths. Ealstan had no interest in them. He wondered what Ethelhelm had wanted, and what the musician was doing now. Whatever it was, he hoped Ethelhelm would manage to do it far from the Algarvians' eyes.
Aloud, he said, 'Well, the crows take him for making me come halfway across town for nothing. If he ever wants me again, I expect he knows where to find me.' He turned and left the block of flats. With a little luck, I'll never see it again, he thought.
Someone had scrawled PENDA AND FREEDOM! on a wall not far from Ethelhelm's building. Ealstan nodded when he saw that. He hadn't felt particularly free when Penda still ruled Forthweg, but he hadn't had standards of comparison then, either. King Mezentio's men had given him some.
He saw the slogan again half a block later. That made him nod even more. New graffiti always pleased him; they were signs he wasn't the only one who despised the Algarvian occupiers. He hadn't seen so many since the spate of scribbles crowing about Sulingen. The redheads, curse them, had proved they weren't going to fold up and die in Unkerlant after all.
When an Algarvian constable came round the corner, Ealstan picked up his pace and walked past the new scribble without turning his head toward it. He must have succeeded in keeping his face straight, too, because the constable didn't reach for his club or growl at him.
I'm well rid of Ethelhelm anyhow, Ealstan thought. He'd found a couple of new clients who between them paid almost as much as the musician had and who didn't threaten to disappoint him with a friendship that would turn sour. His father had been friendly with his clients, but hadn't made friends with them. Now Ealstan saw the difference between those two, and the reason for it.
Not far from the ley-line caravan depot, a work gang was clearing rubble where an Unkerlanter egg had burst. Some of the laborers, the Forthwegians among them, looked like pickpockets and petty thieves let out of gaol so the Algarvians could get some work from them. The rest were trousered Kaunians taken out of their district.
Ealstan hadn't seen so many blond heads all together for a long time. He wondered why the Kaunian men hadn't dyed their hair and used Vanai's spell to help themselves disappear into the Forthwegian majority. Maybe they just hadn't got the chance. He hoped that was it. Or maybe they didn't want to believe what the Algarvians were doing with and to their people, as if not believing it made it less true.
The Forthwegians weren't working any harder than they had to. Every so often, one of the redheads overseeing the job would yell at them. Sometimes they picked up a little, sometimes they didn't. Once, an Algarvian whacked one of them in the seat of his tunic with a club. That produced a yelp, a few curses, and a little more work. The Kaunians in the gang, though, labored like men possessed. Ealstan understood that, and wished he didn't. The Forthwegians would sooner have been sitting in a cell. But if the Kaunians didn't work hard, they'd go
