by M. E. Thorne
“Thank you, beloved.”
I found myself blushing at the sudden term of endearment. “That was amazing.”
She smiled, then slithered towards the well, “Let’s hope it was worth it.”
We clustered around the well’s top. The air coming out of the shaft was cold and wet, and distantly I could hear the trickle of water.
We all cheered again.
Quickly, we got out a rope with a small bucket attached, and I gave Saul the right to dip it down and then haul it back up. The water he retrieved looked slightly brackish, but he claimed it tasted just fine.
I took a drink myself, finding it gritty but immensely refreshing after our hot, joyless morning. We had checked three other farms and came up empty-handed before finding that windfall.
Lita and Saul quickly spread out with the other members of our party, to search the area to see if we could find anything of value. The earlier stops had been bereft of water, but we had found the remains of metal farming tools, preserved in the loose, dry soil.
“Black iron,” Vexile mused, bringing one of the pieces out of her bag.
I tapped my brow, “The same as my circlet?”
She nodded. “It’s only found on the wastes of Duskhaven, but It is extremely valued across Turmont due to its resilience. It is said to never rust, and that it will hold where weaker metals would break or snap.” She brushed off some of the crusted grime, revealing the dull, dark metal underneath. “Supposedly, it was one of the blessings Revina gave the first Dark Lords. Not to arm their troops, but to supply their farmers, woodcarvers, stonecutters, artists, and citizens with the finest tools.”
I smiled and brushed her fingers as I touched the metal. “Maybe we can live up to that expectation, someday.”
“Dark Lord!” A voice called in the distance.
Following the call we walked away from the farm, heading further out into the wasteland. We found Saul, standing above a dried-up creek bed, which zigzagged through the scrubland.
At least, I had thought that it had dried up.
But as I drew closer, I saw a small trickle of water, no more than a rivulet, against the stony ground.
“Revina be praised,” Vexile gasped.
I crouched down and put a finger in the water, finding it sunkissed and warm. “I’m guessing there’s normally not a creek here?”
“No,” Saul shook his head, before belatedly tacking on, ‘Dark Lord.”
“There’s a small, muddy creek far to the west, on the other side of the keep,” one of the older members of our group elaborated. “Local animals sometimes go there for a drink, but the water is dirty and foul-tasting, so we never used it.”
I got up, “It looks like the goddess might have smiled upon us again this week, let’s follow this for a bit, to see if we can figure out where this is coming from.”
The land grew steeper as we walked.
“Gloomglow is located on a plateau extending off Duskhaven’s central mountains,” Lita explained, evidently having been versed in geography by her father. “If you go south from the keep, you’ll eventually run into Dougherty’s watchtower and the causeway down to the coastlands.”
“Dougherty?” I hadn’t heard the name before.
“He’s part of a loose network of individuals who help those escaping from the south make their way here.” Vexile slithered up to join us.
She had quickly mastered her new form’s locomotion, and I felt assured that no one in Gloomglow would be able to beat her in a footrace. She could cross distances with startling speed.
“He’s a good guy,” Saul insisted with youthful exuberance, “he helped my dad and the rest of us when we got here, showing us how to reach Gloomglow!”
“He keeps a watch for people crossing the wilds of Marshul, helping them on the last leg of their journey,” Vexile added. “He saved me when I first came here; I was starving and half-delirious when I managed to get out of the marshes and reach the bottom of the causeway.”
We’ll have to be sure to meet this man, I told myself. If he’s the gatekeeper to our kingdom, he could be a powerful ally.
Eventually, the central mountains came into view; distant, red stone peaks that stretched towards the cloudless sky. They were barren and bald, devoid of any signs of life or even caps of snow, monuments to the desolation that had affected Duskhaven.
“This way!” Saul called, as he pointed and shouted.
Catching up with the boy, we found there was a small, muddy pond forming in a granite-lined valley, sheltered by a pair of rolling foothills.
It wasn’t much, just a body of water several meters across, and likely less than a meter deep. Water trickled down from the rocks, evidently fed from a source high up in the mountains, likely another spring.
Lita and Saul were overjoyed by the discovery, they splashed into the water and automatically began to play, laughing joyfully. The other members of our party spread out along the shore, taking the chance to wash their faces and slake their thirst.
“It’s amazing,” Vexile whispered sibilantly, “the land is truly coming alive, isn’t it Robert?”
I quietly reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. I felt a tingle, our shared magic responding to our proximity and our happiness.
The same dusky flowers that had sprouted by Gloomglow’s fountain were also growing along the pond’s edges. Looking more closely at them, I saw they were a dim shade of blue, almost purple, with petals in the shape of a downward-facing bulb, like bluebells back on Earth.
I carefully plucked one, then presented it to Vexile, “Do you know the name of this flower?”
She frowned and shook her head, “I’ve never seen it before the other day. It might have existed in the old kingdom of Duskhaven, but if so, its name was lost, like so much else.”
“Then I think it’s only fair that we rename it,” Reaching up, I tucked the flower’s stem behind her ear, finding its color a wonderful compliment to her black tresses. “How about we call it a duskbell?”
She smiled sweetly, “I believe that’s a wonderful name.”
Before we returned to the keep, I discovered that there was another type of plant growing near the pond. It was a strange type of hollow shoot, different from the thin reeds that grew near Gloomglow’s watering hole. It reminded me of Earth bamboo, though it was rust-orange, much like the surrounding soil.
As we returned to the castle, I thought about the meager plant life growing near the keep, before suddenly comprehending something important. “There’s wheat here!”
Vexile chuckled, “Coming to another realization, Dark Lord?”
“How is there wheat here? It’s the product of hundreds of years of deliberate cultivation back on Earth, I can’t see it just spontaneously being invented here as well,” I said.
She nodded. “And yet, there are things from Earth here,” she nudged me with her serpentine hip, “like yourself.”
I thought about this, “So my great-grandfather and grandfather weren’t the first of the Dark Lords to go to Earth?”
“And other realms,” she nodded. “It’s said the Dark Lords of old could venture to other realities, bringing back their bounties for the betterment of their people. It’s fair to assume that wheat is one of the things brought over.”
I imagine in a world without fallow seasons, cultivating large amounts of wheat would be a fantastic way to support a growing population. I thought about this further, If I could, what else would I bring over from Earth? Modern medicine, indoor plumbing, advanced manufacturing?
I quietly cursed the fact that such power was beyond our grasp, at least for the time being.
Upon return to Gloomglow, I made sure to publicly thank Riggs for his children’s assistance, pointing out how helpful they were and the discovery we had made thanks to Saul’s keen eyesight. The burly hunter laughed and clapped his children on the shoulders, clearly proud of what they had accomplished.
I had figured Riggs out; he was the kind of ma
n who liked to do the right thing and to be praised for doing so. He reveled in public recognition, even through his children.
Once I had realized that I had worked quickly to get him onto our side and make him one of our staunchest supporters.
In the courtyard, Vexile produced all the black iron scraps we had located. She showed them to the people, who were almost as impressed by our haul as they were about our discovery of the well and the pond. My queen, a quick learner, made a show of handing them to Ahkil.
“Have them cleaned, and then present them as an offering to Revina, as thanks for Her bounty,” Vexile declared. “Afterwards, let us distribute them to the people, so they might use them in their daily tasks.”
“The Goddess be praised,” Ahkil said with fervor.
Ahkil had taken on the role of chief acolyte and day-to-day administrator of Revina’s temple. Vexile had known her in prison, she was another convert who had deep faith in the goddess of darkness. While retaining the position of high priestess, Vexile had decided to hand her subordinate more responsibility so she could focus on being the First Queen.
Endlessly devoted to her goddess and high priestess, Ahkil would follow Vexile to the ends of the earth.
With her and Riggs' loyalty, I knew Gloomglow was secure under our rule, at least for the time being. That left us free to focus on making life better for our people, starting with our farming plans.
“Riggs,” I waved the man over. “Do you know who here has the most experience in agriculture and working on farms?”
He rubbed his chin, thinking, “Several people here worked on Luminark farms, mostly stuck with manual labor and the like. If you’re looking for someone with experience managing things --” he trailed off, looking troubled.
“Riggs?”
“Pardon, Dark Lord,” he shook his head. “You should speak to Emil, he was a foreman on a large farm back in the empire. It’s just that,” he spoke lower, “there are some unfortunate rumors about the man.”
Vexile slithered over, listening in. “Emil?”
The hunter nodded. “It’s said he was a collaborator with the Luminark inquisitors, feeding them information about escape attempts and rebellion on his farm. That’s how he was able to escape, though his family didn’t make it.”
I frowned, thanking the hunter for his information.
Drawing Vexile aside, I asked, “How much information can we find about this Emil before tomorrow?”
Resplendent in my black mantel and circlet, I sat upon a makeshift throne, looking down at Emil.
He was an older man, his shortly hewn hair having gone grey. His skin was like hardened leather, likely from a lifetime spent in the sun, toiling for other people’s benefit. Shoulders slumped, he stood in front of the small crowd that had gathered in my headquarters.
“Thank you for coming here today,” I told him.
He nodded mutely.
Riggs and one of his more burly sons had rounded him up that morning, letting him know that the new Dark Lord wanted his aid. From what I had known about the man, he wouldn’t have appeared otherwise. He lived by himself just outside of the keep’s walls, not interacting with the other citizens. Before that day, I had never even seen him.
Vexile spoke next, “We are looking to rebuild one of the outlying farms, and we heard you were a foreman before your escape. If so, your knowledge would be invaluable to our kingdom.”
The night before, Vexile and I had planned our meeting, and I had insisted she speak using the Royal We. I wanted to make sure the people saw us as a single, unified front; Vexile’s authority would be reinforced by my position, while mine would be bolstered by her clear favor with Revina. Thus, working together, we would both appear stronger, which would make our fledgling kingdom stronger.
This isn’t just my throne, my kingdom, I knew, but it’s ours together. We either succeed together or we fall apart.
Emil stood and shook, not saying a word.
“He’s a traitor,” someone at the back of the room yelled, “he collaborated with the Luminark inquisitors!”
The crowd erupted into angry cries, with several people taking up the accusation.
I glanced at Vexile. Ahkil had played her role perfectly; Vexile had asked her to make the allegation, so we could get it out into the open quickly.
Small communities are quickly destroyed by suspicion and mistrust. Such fears must be quickly treated, either proven wrong and dispelled, or lanced like a boil.
“Emil,” I spoke with force, a strange tingle running down my spine. “We are not one to listen to anonymous accusations, but it appears there is some mistrust in our kingdom. Can you explain why people are suspicious of you?”
He trembled, “No, Dark Lord. I’m just a simple man, I don’t have anyone left. I just came here to be alone, to die in peace, in the land of my ancestors.”
“Liar!” Someone spat, the crowd growing agitated. “I know for a fact that the inquisition came through your farm and took away half the workers, including your own son!”
The crowd became angrier, and Emil looked on the verge of tears. Vexile, seeing things slipping out of our control, reared up on her tail, trying to calm the riot we had instigated.
The tingle along my back became stronger, a prickling shock running from the base of my spine to the back of my neck. People were starting to yell louder, pushing to reach Emil.
“Enough!”
The yell tore through my throat, an empowered command that rippled through the warehouse. Everyone who heard it, save Vexile, immediately stopped talking, falling to their knees in a daze.
“Dark Lord?” Vexile, though not stunned, was shocked by the result.
Wordlessly, I got up and approached Emil, kneeling by the old man’s side. The power was still inside of me, begging to be used.
Unsure of how to control it, I spoke in calm, measured tones, only letting some of the magic bleed into my words. “Emil, you need to tell us the truth.”
“It was my son,” the old man broke down, sobbing. “He fell in love with a Luminark girl, she worked in the farm’s main office. The inquisitors found out, they threatened to torture the girl unless he told them everything about the workers on the farm. To spy for them.”
The crowd murmured amongst themselves. Looking at them, I saw many of them suddenly appeared contrite. I suspected they had heard similar stories in the past, or worse, been the victims of them.
“But he didn’t talk,” Emil swore, “he refused to be their puppet. So the inquisitors came and took all the young workers away, anyone who had contact with my son. They took the girl as well. They were all hung from the gates of the farm the next day.”
The man openly wept, I let him cry onto my shoulder.
I glared up at the crowd. “We will not allow our kingdom to be one of suspicion and fear.” The power trembled through me. “We are all refugees here, one way or another, escaping a world that saw us only as chattel, as things to be used and discarded.”
“Dark Lord,” one of the women in the crowd lamented, “We didn’t know.”
I felt a flash of guilt. Vexile and I had instigated this scene, so I could not fully blame the crowd for their reaction.
I placed a hand on Emil’s back, before speaking with a more benevolent voice. “We must all work together, for we are all we have in this reborn kingdom. If you ever fear there is treachery or evil afoot, bring your concerns to us, we will listen to them and do what must be done.”
To my surprise, Vexile spoke next, the same power I had used echoing in her voice. “But false accusations will be met with the goddess’s justice. Revina does not tolerate those who slander their neighbors and countrymen for their own advancement or petty hatred.”
The crowd bowed their heads, humbled.
I helped Emil up to his feet. “We are sorry for what happened to you and your son, he sounds like he was a wonderful, brave man.”
Emil nodded, “Thank you, Dark Lord.”
“But we
would encourage you to not give up. There are still people here who need you. Would you be willing to lend your experience to this kingdom, to help us rebuild the farm and get it running again?”
He wiped his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t know much, I’m just an old farmer.”
I smiled, “You know far more than us. We have water and we have willpower. If you can make do with that, then we will consider you a miracle worker.”
Chapter 9
We stood upon a hill, watching the farmworkers below.
It had been several months since the meeting, and Emil’s farm was finally coming to life. Water, hauled up from the well or brought in from the reborn creek was channeled by a series of sluice gates to the fields he maintained. A number of volunteers, other people with experience working in agriculture, labored with him to make our dreams a reality.
They had planted several fields of wild wheat, and to my shock, they had been able to bring in their first harvest in less than two months. The wild onions and leeks they had planted had sprouted as well, making a welcome addition to Gloomglow’s meager larder.
“I’m pretty sure wheat isn’t meant to mature in only a few weeks,” I told Vexile, whose tail was coiled around me. “Is this normal for Turmont, or is Revina stacking the odds again?”
“Emil said this was perfectly normal,” my queen reminded me. “He said when he worked in the empire, they could get up to six good harvests a year, depending on the weather.”
I hugged her closer. “Then I guess we’ll be eating a lot of bread in the future.”
One of the other citizens, a former bakery worker, had been working on constructing a community oven, using scavenged stone and clay dredged from the pond’s bed. There was a lot of trial and error involved, but she felt like she had just about got the design right. We didn’t have any yeast, but flatbread would be a marked improvement over the gruel we had been surviving on.
Though now we need to worry about finding enough fuel. I doubt burning scrub grass, as the people have been doing, will be enough.
“If things are going this well,” I remarked, “we should look towards expanding what crops we can offer. The climate is still dry, but with our irrigation system we should be able to grow vegetables, maybe even fruits.” I furrowed my brow, “But the problem is, where to get seeds and starters.”