Darknesses Read Online Free Page A

water coming from the
hand pump in the washroom was like liquid ice, and shaving left his face chill.
When he returned to the bedroom, Wendra had pulled on trousers and tunic and
her heavy winter jacket. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he pulled
on his nightsilk undergarments and his captain’s uniform.
    Then
she stood and embraced him again. They kissed for another long moment before
she turned slightly and pressed the black crystal of her ring against the
crystal of his herder’s wristband. For an instant, warmth and closeness
enfolded them, and they clung to each other.
    Wendra
stepped back to let him finish dressing, but did not sit down, standing at the
foot of the bed. Once he was dressed, he reached down and shouldered the
saddlebags, then lifted the rifle from the high wall rack. Except for what he
had on, and his personal toiletries, he’d packed the saddlebags the night
before.
    He
wore the heavy cartridge belt over his militia winter parka. While he did not
expect trouble, if he encountered it, he’d need the cartridges in easy reach.
The rifle was his—but met militia standards, which meant that it was designed
for use against sanders and sandwolves, with the magazine that held but five
cartridges, each thicker than a large man’s thumb.
    Wendra
accompanied him out of the house, carrying the basket of travel fare. As they
walked through the darkness toward the stable, a darkness that was more like
early twilight to Alucius, she said quietly, “It’s colder than yesterday.
You’ll be careful?”
    “I’m
always careful, dear one. Even in Madrien I was careful.”
    “I
worry.”
    Alucius
worried, too, although he had less reason to do so than he had when he’d first
been conscripted years before in the middle of a war. Still…Corus was an
unsettled place, and there were raiders and brigands, even if there were no
battles. Yet.
    After
saddling Wildebeast and slipping the food from the basket into the top of his
saddlebags, he turned to Wendra and wrapped his arms around her. “Just another
four seasons, and I’ll be here all the time.”
    She
did not speak, but lifted her lips to his.
    After
the embrace and kiss, Alucius pulled on the skull mask of nightsilk that
shielded his entire head, with only eyeholes and slits for nose and mouth.
    “You
look dangerous in that,” she said with a faint smile.
    “I
don’t know about dangerous, but the nightsilk keeps my face from freezing. I’ll
have to take it off at sunrise, or someone will think I’m a brigand.” He led
Wildebeast out of the stall and then from the stable out into the chill air of
a winter morning three glasses before sunrise.
    In
the west, just above the horizon, the green-tinged disc of Asterta was setting.
The larger moon—Selena—had set a glass after sunset the night before. Alucius
closed the stable door and mounted. “I’ll walk you back to the house.”
    “I
can—all right.” She turned and began to walk back to the house, Alucius riding
beside her.
    Once
Wendra stood on the porch, Alucius turned Wildebeast.
    “You will be careful,” Wendra said again, looking at her
husband.
    “I
will,” he promised. “You take care as well.”
    Wendra
nodded, as if she dared not to speak.
    After
a long moment, of just looking through the darkness at her, he turned his mount
toward the lane, heading southwest, swallowing as he did.
    He
understood her fears, her concerns.
    So
much had happened. Three years earlier, he had been conscripted into the Iron
Valleys Militia. He’d served in the militia as a scout, then had been captured
at the battle of Soulend by the Matrites and forced by the Talent-torque welded
around his neck to serve as a captive trooper in the Matrial’s forces. He’d
discovered his own Talent-abilities, broken the power of the torques, and
returned to the Iron Valleys at the head of a company of other captives—only to
discover that the price of freedom was to become a militia captain over