by Matt Forbeck
Royal chambers? The Illagers had been busy in his absence. Archie had no doubt that Thord and even Walda had once had their own plans for those chambers. With them both put in their proper places, though, Archie felt no compunction about assuming those chambers for himself.
Not that he would have in any case. Highblock Keep was his. Everyone else inside it was his guest, and they should accord him the respect of the rightful and undisputed owner.
“This works for me,” Archie told Walda.
Her relief was palpable. She started to breathe regularly again and even fanned herself with her hand. “Excellent,” she said. “The one thing we haven’t worked out for you is your title. We have some suggestions, but we thought your input would be the most vital.”
“Right. My title.” Archie had been too busy to put much thought into the issue till now. She had a point though. If he was to rule over the land, people would need to call him something other than Archie the Illager.
He’d been called all sorts of unkind things over the years, including several painful zingers coined by Thord. He wasn’t sure he could counter all those with a new title, but he was willing to entertain the possibility. “What did you have in mind?” he asked Walda.
“King?” she said uncertainly.
Archie frowned and shook his head. “I need a kingdom to be a king, don’t I? And this has never been about the land as much as it’s about our people.”
She grimaced. “I suppose you’re not going to like emperor then?”
Archie shrugged. “Building an empire seems even less likely than coming up with a kingdom.”
For now.
The Orb of Dominance, at least, had plenty of ambition for them both. After everything it had done for him, Archie wasn’t about to stand in its way. If he might someday rule an empire with the Orb’s help, then so be it. But he still thought that declaring himself an emperor would be premature.
“You never had a title for yourself, Walda,” Archie told her. “Why would you insist on one for me?”
She raised her eyes and glanced about to indicate everything that surrounded them. “Well, I never had a keep or an Undead army or an Orb of incalculable power to call my own either. I think those are the things that separate us.”
He chuckled at her discomfort, and that spurred her to speak again. She looked down at Archie with power-hungry eyes.
“You’re going to be able to do things I could never have dreamed of, and you’re going to bring the Illagers to greater glories than we could ever have imagined on our own. A conqueror like you deserves a crown and title to go with it.”
Archie pondered that for a moment, savoring her flattery, and then nodded. “All right. What else do you have?”
Walda put up her hand and counted off the various titles as she ran through them. “Monarch. Majesty. Overlord. Prince—never mind, that’s less than a king. Sovereign. Commander. Governor. Sultan. Potentate?”
She was clearly running low on ideas. She sighed at him as her shoulders sank. “None of those are working for you? At all?”
Archie shook his head. “It should be something unique. Something powerful. Something to strike awe in all who hear it.”
Walda sucked at her teeth, acknowledging how tall that order was for her. She was a ruler, not a writer. “I’ll see what we can come up with.”
“We have until tonight.”
A wide, relieved smile broke out on Walda’s face. “So you’re up for holding the coronation then?”
“The sooner the better,” Archie said. “After all, we don’t have any time to waste.”
“Why is that?” Walda said, uncertain once more.
Archie chuckled at her lack of vision. “We have a land to conquer. It will only wait for us for so long.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“We have a problem,” Walda said when Archie emerged from his chambers that evening. He noticed she didn’t have the crown with her.
“Are we going to have to push off the coronation?” The idea made him angry. Despite how silly he’d found it before, the more he thought about such symbols of power, the more he wanted them.
She shook her head, not at his question but at the entire notion that the coronation was something to worry about at that exact moment. “The Undead attacked and killed some of our people.”
“What?” Archie couldn’t believe it. “Who lowered the drawbridge?”
“We’re hunters and gatherers,” Walda said. “Some of the people wanted to go out and get some more food for the feast. The only way to do that was to lower the drawbridge. They figured the Undead wouldn’t bother them during the day, at least.”
Archie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No one realized that these Undead haven’t just disappeared in the sunshine every day?”
“The mobs have been pretty sedate up until now. We hoped that the daylight—while it didn’t harm them—was at least keeping them calm.”
Archie opened his eyes again. “But that didn’t turn out to be true.”
Walda shook her head, her eyes wide and horrified. “Not one bit.”
“Tell me you raised the drawbridge.”
“We tried—we really did—but the Undead had already gotten onto it before we realized what had happened.” She held up her hands to stave off any interruptions until she was finished. “We did manage to lower the gates on this side of the drawbridge, but the Undead are still trying to claw their way in.”
“Which they will continue to do until I order them otherwise,” Archie said.
“The sun really doesn’t affect them?” Walda seemed not to believe that. “Not at all?”
Archie hefted his staff before him. “I granted them immunity to limitations like that. They are on our side, after all.”
“They don’t seem to be acting like it.” Walda started to raise her voice, but she remembered to whom she was talking and managed to tamp it down.
Archie strode past her and made his way downstairs to the gate. She trailed in his wake, as did everyone else they passed on the way. Word about the disaster had spread through the keep, and every one of the Illagers wanted to know if they had to fear for their lives from the Undead army that seemed to have turned against them.
You need to stop this.
That was something Archie didn’t need to be told. Not by anyone.
When he reached the gate, the Illagers who’d been stationed to keep watch at it were standing well back from it. They all had their weapons out and ready, but they weren’t attacking the Undead mobs through the gate. In fact, many of them had taken up positions around the corner from the gate, to keep themselves safe from the skeletons who’d taken to climbing on top of one another so they could fire arrows through the thick cluster of husks pressed up against the gate’s bars.
Archie peered around the corner and had a volley of arrows fired at him for his trouble. He ducked back to recover from the surprise and noticed that everyone was staring at him in abject fear. It was up to him to solve this problem.
That was something he could do.
He held his staff out before him, the Orb of Dominance glowing brightly, and he stepped around the corner once again. “Hold it!” he shouted as he emerged.
Thankfully, the skeletons did just that. They had stretched back the strings of their bows, but they kept them clutched tightly between their bony fingers, unloosed. Similarly, the husks—who’d been groaning in a disturbing chorus of hunger—all fell silent.
Archie strode toward the gate with unfazed confidence. As he grew closer, the Undead mobs stared at the Orb with unblinking eyes or sockets, focusing exclusively on it.
“You are not to set foot in this building!” Archie declared, raising his voice so the creatures in the back could hear him as well. “Remove yourselves and wait for me in the field beyond the front steps!
Highblock Keep is for the living, not the dead!”
The Undead mobs actually fell over themselves trying to comply with Archie’s orders as fast as they could. Perhaps some of their speed sprang from the fact that he could have obliterated each and every one of them with lancing rays from the Orb, but it seemed that they were actually eager to please him. After all, he was their recognized master now.
The Undead have short memories.
That explained why they’d decided to ignore Archie’s previous orders. They’d literally forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. That didn’t seem like it would be much of a problem as long as he was around to keep them in line, but it meant that he couldn’t trust them with long-term plans.
These were limitations he could work around. In fact, they gave him an idea.
He spun around to discover the entire hallway behind him packed wall to wall with curious Illagers. Each and every one of them was gawking at him and the power he’d just displayed. Slowly their slack jaws formed relieved grins, and a cheer went up from the back of the hall.
As the echoes of the first cheer were dying, another went up. Then another, and another. Soon the walls of the keep reverberated with Illager chants. They kept shouting, “Archie! Archie! Archie!”
Right then, Archie knew what his title had to be.
He waved for them to be silent, and they cut themselves off almost immediately. He cleared his throat and then spoke loudly again, this time for the Illagers in the keep rather than the things on the bridge.
“Thank you!” he said. “As long as I am in charge of Highblock Keep, you will be safe inside it! Remember that!”
A cheer went up once more, but he cut it short before it rolled into something larger. “Tonight, you are all invited to my coronation! We will meet in the throne room when the sky is fully dark! I look forward to becoming your official ruler!”
The cheers went wild, and this time Archie didn’t try to stop them. Instead, he strode into the keep, and the howling Illagers parted before him, giving him a wide berth.
He went directly to the throne room, and Walda rushed in after him. She slammed the door behind herself, cutting off the still-roaring exultations.
Archie paid no attention to her. He simply strolled over to his throne and sat down on it.
“Thank you,” Walda said to him. “That was very well done.”
Archie tilted his staff to one side as the Orb atop it shifted colors the way it often did. “It’s easy when you know how.”
“It’s one thing to wield power,” Walda said with respect. “It’s another entirely to know how to lead. You’ve taken to leadership quickly.”
“Apparently I’m a natural at it.” Archie thought about that night in the village when he’d been shot and kidnapped, despite all his power. That had not been one of his better moments, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now—or ever.
“I’ve had a lot more practice at it, and even if I had the power you control, I’m not sure I would have done quite so well.”
Archie favored her with a knowing smile. She was flattering him again—lying to him, really—and they both knew it. Given the chance, she’d wrest the Orb from him and become the supreme ruler of the Illagers instead.
She just didn’t know how to do it. Perhaps it was that she was too frightened to try. After all, look how Archie had handled Thord for his betrayal. She couldn’t expect he would treat her any better.
She cannot take me from you.
Archie gave Walda an easy smile that she couldn’t possibly understand. It was based on the confidence he felt that neither she nor any of the other Illagers could come between him and the source of his power. In that sense, he was untouchable, and that comforted him far beyond words.
“Let the others in,” he told her.
She obeyed instantly and left his side to open the doors. As soon as she did, the rest of the Illagers in the keep filed into the throne room, moving in silence and respect. Few of them had ever been in a throne room before, much less witnessed something like a coronation, and they were one and all cowed by the prospect. Except, perhaps, for Walda.
The sun outside had fallen beyond the horizon, and full darkness would be upon them soon. Even from up as high as they were, Archie could hear the husks groaning outside and the skeletons clattering about. At his gesture, Walda set people scurrying to light torches in the sconces all around the edges of the hall, as well as in tall candelabras sitting on either side of the dais on which the throne stood.
A proper coronation requires proper lighting.
The Orb flared for a moment, and a brilliant light appeared in the ceiling directly above Archie. It shone down on him like a spotlight, declaring him the most important person in the massive room. If all eyes hadn’t been on him before, they certainly were now.
He basked in the light for a moment before realizing that doing so maybe didn’t make him look as serious and regal as he wanted. He pasted a mild frown on his face and narrowed his eyebrows instead. The people around him seemed to respond in kind, taking the moment as seriously as he required.
Once everyone was in the room and ready, Archie stamped the end of his staff on the ground three times, and the murmuring in the room went silent, as if he’d cut the noise with a diamond-edged knife. Walda strode up to the dais with the crown cradled in her hands. It sparkled in the torchlight, and Archie had to suppress a gasp at the sight of it. He’d never seen anything so gorgeous in his entire life.
It is exactly as you dreamed.
It was tall and fashioned from gold. It bore a gigantic ruby on the front, toward its ornate crest, with a sapphire of similar size just below that. Altogether, it was probably worth more than an Illager raiding party could gather in a year or more.
Walda stood next to him, on his left-hand side, and hefted the crown in front of him. He nodded at her where he sat, and she carefully placed the crown on his head.
Despite how tall and narrow it was, it fit perfectly. It felt heavy for an instant, but when he stood up on the seat of his throne to bring himself to even higher than his full height, the weight of the crown seemed to vanish.
He stamped his staff down once again, and everyone in the hall bowed their heads and bent their knees before him. The sight filled him with a sense of incredible power, even more than when he’d first grasped the Orb. His people would honor him here at his home and follow him into the heart of battle without question, he knew, and nothing could be better than that.
He looked to his left and saw Walda staring down at him. Perhaps she was too astonished to move, but she hadn’t bowed her head or bent her knee.
Archie could not withstand that sort of disrespect at that most important moment. The Orb of Dominance’s glow intensified with his emotions, and it flashed from golden to crimson as he swung it around and smacked Walda upside her head with it.
Without complaint or protest, she realized her mistake and bowed deeply. This brought her head lower than Archie’s, which satisfied him—for now.
He turned and stared out at the Illagers filling the hall. The sight of his subservient subjects filled him with incredible satisfaction. He wanted to hold on to that for as long as he could. And he knew there was only one way to do that.
Armies that don’t fight turn against themselves, as you saw earlier today. Give them a target, and they will serve you—just as you serve me.
The idea that Archie might be the one serving the Orb of Dominance rather than the other way around shocked him, but he wasn’t about to start an argument with it in the middle of his coronation. Besides, if they both got what they wanted, why split hairs about who was controlling whom?
But was this really what he wanted? To control a vast army capable of taking over the land? To cut down any and all who would stand in the way of his ultimate triumph?
When this starte
d, all Archie had wanted was to find a place where he belonged. Where the people would accept him for who he was and treat him like a valued member of their community. Somewhere along the way, it had gotten far more complicated than he had anticipated.
And now he was about to be crowned…what?
He gazed out over the people assembled in the room. They’d come to abase themselves before him and to pledge their loyalty to him. They wanted to bear witness to a coronation, and he refused to disappoint them.
“Rise, my people!” he said to them. “Rise and meet the one who will lead you to greatness! Rise and greet me, your Arch-Illager!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Arch-Illager?” Walda said the next morning as she greeted him in the throne room. “What a stroke of inspiration.”
The feast last night had been fantastic, and the people were now roused and ready to do anything for him, Archie knew. He only needed to point them in the proper direction and give them their orders. Now.
He gave Walda a suspicious side-eye. “You don’t like it?”
She composed her response carefully. “I’m not sure I understand it.”
“It’s a play on words, based on my name and who I am. Arch means leader or chief. And well, Illager, that’s who I am. Who we all are.”
Walda nodded in understanding. Archie still wasn’t quite sure she approved, but then again, he didn’t require her blessing at all.
“We move today,” Archie told her, changing the subject. “Our Illager army is strong and ready and itching for a fight, as are our Undead allies.”
“Most of your army is sleeping in after the feast last night,” Walda pointed out. “Could we perhaps push the launch of our campaign against the Villagers off until tomorrow?”
That should be fine, but no longer.
Archie made a sound of disgust. “Fine, but we can’t wait any longer than that. Our destiny awaits us, and I—for one—am eager to claim it!”
“As you say, Archie.”
He arched an irritated eyebrow at her. “What did you call me?”