Into the Darkness Read Online Free PDF

agreement. Noticing the silver dragon coiled on Sabrino’s chest, the man added, “And the greatest good luck to you in the air, sir. Powers above keep you safe.”
    “For which you have my thanks, poor though they be.” Crush or no crush, Sabrino bowed to both the man and his lady before pressing on.
    He brought a chunk of melon wrapped in a parchment-thin slice of ham from a vendor with an eye for the main chance, and advanced with only one elbow to clear his path while he ate. He hadn’t come quite so far as he wanted when King Mezentio appeared on the balcony: a tall, lean man, his golden crown gleaming even more brightly in the noonday sun than his bald scalp would have.
    “My friends, my countrymen, we are invaded!” he cried, and Sabrino, to his relief, found he had no trouble hearing. “All the Kaunian countries want to gnaw our bones. The Jelgavans are attacking us in the mountains, the Valmierans have swarmed out of the marquisate on this side of the Soretto they stole from us in the Treaty of Tortusso, and Forthweg’s fierce cavalry sweeps over the plains in the northwest. Even Sibiu, our own blood kin, plunges the dagger into our back, assaulting our ships and burning our harbors. They think—they all think—we shall be meat for their butchering. My friends, my countrymen, what say you about that?”
    “No!” Sabrino shouted it at the top of his lungs, along with everyone else. The roar was terrific, overpowering.
    “No,” Mezentio agreed. “We have done nothing but take back that which is rightfully ours. Even doing that, we were calm, we were reasonable. Did we war with the traitor Duke of Ban, Alardo the lickspittle? We had every reason to war with him, but we let him live out his long and worthless span of days. Only after the flames claimed his carcass did we reclaim the Duchy—and the people of Bari welcomed us with flowers and kisses and songs of joy. And for those songs of joy, we are plunged into a war we do not want.
    “My friends, my countrymen, did we claim the Marquisate of Rivaroli, which Valmiera cut from the body of our kingdom after the Six Years’ War for their foothold on this side of the Soretto? We did not. We do not, though King Gainibu’s men mistreat the good Algarvians who live there. I thought no one could doubt the justice of our claim to Bari. It seems I was wrong.
    “It seems I was wrong,” Mezentio repeated, bringing his right fist down on the waist-high marble balustrade. “The Kaunians and their jackals sought any excuse for war, and now they think they have one. My countrymen, my friends, mark my words: if we lose this struggle, they will ruin us. Jelgava and Forthweg will join hands in the north across the corpse of our kingdom, cutting us off forevermore from the Garelian Ocean. In the south, the Treaty of Tortusso gave barely a taste of what Valmiera and Sibiu, aye, and Lagoas, too, would do to us if only they could.”
    Sabrino frowned a little. Since the Lagoans had not declared war on Algarve, he would not have mentioned them. He did not for a moment think King Mezentio wrong about what Lagoas wanted, merely a trifle impolitic.
    Mezentio went on, “As I speak here, our enemies burn our fields and farms and villages. Their dragons carry eggs of devastation and destruction and death to our towns and cities. My friends, my countrymen, shall we do what is in our poor power to throw them back?”
    “Aye!” Again, Sabrino yelled as loud as he could. Again, he could hardly hear himself for the outcry around him.
    “Valmiera has declared war on us. Jelgava has followed like a dog on a leash. Forthweg has declared war. So has Sibiu.” This time, Mezentio raised his fist in the air. “They seek to chop us off at the knees. My friends, my countrymen, people of Algarve, here is my vow to you: it shall not be!”
    Sabrino yelled yet again. He too pumped his fist in the air. A woman beside him stood up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He gathered her into his