The Dark Lord's Commands

by M. E. Thorne

  Looking around, I tried to spot any familiar landmarks, but I felt lost. Even glancing at my maps didn't help; we were in an uncharted area.

  “Can you guide me back to my camp?” I asked Nichessa. “We’re camped in a set of ruins at the edge of the foothills, probably north of here. I’m guessing it was once a town or something, it's got an old tower that is taller than anything else in the landscape.”

  She looked, then pointed, “Yeah, I know it, it’s way to the north. It would be dark long before we got close.” She sighed, “Come with me.”

  Moving downhill, I followed her, “Where are we going?”

  “My house,” she answered roughly. “With the Luminark searching everywhere, it’s too dangerous to move tonight. At this point, you already know too much about me, so I can’t afford for you to get captured. Besides, it’s probably bad luck to get the Dark Lord killed. So you’ll stay at my place tonight, and then tomorrow I’m kicking you out.”

  Frowning, I followed her.

  Nichessa’s house was built into another set of ruins, set on some crumpled peak at the southern side of the foothills. Based upon the domed shape, I guessed the facility had once been an astronomical observatory, but time and warfare had brought most of the buildings down. Nichessa had built a home in the curved shell of the largest building, hiding the entrance in a maze of fallen masonry.

  The first thing I noticed upon entering was the forge, complete with a furnace, anvil, and workbench. It occupied most of the outer room of her home. Against one wall were crates full of ingots and scrap metal, while the boxes and barrels against another side of the room held finished works, mostly swords and other weapons.

  A series of gauntlets hung over the forge. The first one was little more than a crude set of gloves with armor plates sewn onto them. The later ones were masterpieces of craftsmanship, skillfully engineered to improve the wearer’s grip and dexterity.

  I saw the set Nichessa was wearing was far more advanced than even those.

  Looking at her, in the clear light, I re-evaluated my impression of her. In the caves, I had thought she was an older woman, but she was likely in her late thirties or early forties; she was more striking than beautiful. A difficult life had carved itself across her features, leaving her expression stern and hard, like the face of a mountain. Her dusky complexion was rough-hewn, likely from a life spent in the unrelenting sun. Salt-and-pepper hair sprang in spiky waves across her head and down her shoulders. Her arms and legs were thick with muscle, a physique built up from a lifetime at her anvil and forge.

  As she retreated into the inner room, I peered at one of the swords, resting on a pallet of straw. It was a simple, brutal tool, with a meter-long blade, honed to a razor-sharp edge. The crossguard was simple, and some kind of leather had been wrapped around the handle to give the wielder a decent grip.

  “Don’t touch it,” Nichessa warned, as she reentered the room.

  “I was only looking,” I responded, “I wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway, I’m no swordsman. I was simply admiring the work.”

  She grunted, “What, you’re not going to ask who made it?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” I retorted. “This is all your work, I doubt you have a partner or apprentice, there’s only one set of tools on the workbench.”

  Coming over, she picked up the blade. She had washed the dust and grime from her face and changed into a new set of clothes, still secondhand but far cleaner.

  “It’s light but durable,” she commented, inspecting her handiwork, “the perfect infantry blade. I based the design on the sword the Luminark issues to their foot troops, but made a few modifications based on my own ideas.”

  I noticed it took her a second to get a good grip on the blade. Her gauntlets clicked as she picked it up and held it, her fingers curling around it more comfortably as the mechanics snapped into configuration.

  “What do you make them for?” I saw there was a barrel full of similar-looking swords, all variations on the same design. “I don’t suppose you trade them to anyone or use them yourself?”

  Nichessa put the sword back down awkwardly, her pinky remaining curled around the hilt even after the other fingers had released their grip. Cursing, she backed away, inspecting the mechanics attached to the gauntlet.

  Before I could ask what had just happened, she barked, “I just like making them. I was born to be a blacksmith, my craft is my life. Do I need a better reason?”

  Instead of answering, I drifted over to the other side of the room, looking at the piles of ore and scraps she had. I spotted bits of bronze, copper, and even gold.

  I picked up a smelted bar, “Black iron?”

  Frowning, she shoved her hands back down. “Yeah, The Luminark extraction process is messy, unrefined. They leave more ore in the rocks than they think. I have a safe house, halfway between here and their dross heap, where I run my smelter and make my own ingots.”

  “For someone afraid of me knowing too much, you are awfully talkative,” I said.

  She must be lonely living out here all alone, I realized, she probably enjoys having someone to talk to.

  Scowling, she retreated to the inner room again, before returning with two hanks of jerky. “I assume, Dark Lord, that you didn’t bring any food with you?”

  Checking my belt, I saw my canteen was in place, but the pouch I kept my rations in was gone, likely torn off while crawling through the caves.

  “You got me there,” I admitted, as I gratefully took the offered food.

  We sat down on the crates to eat.

  “For someone claiming to be a Dark Lord, you seem surprisingly level-headed,” the woman stated. “Not that I believe that you’re telling the truth. The Dark Lords have been dead for over two centuries.”

  “I could use my voice to issue a command again,” I informed her.

  She scrunched her brows in confusion.

  “The thing I did with my voice, back in the cave,” I explained. “Just one of the gifts Revina gave me and my wife.”

  “What else did she give you?”

  “This fancy crown,” I tapped the circlet, “and my wife is now a giant half-snake woman, so that’s pretty great.”

  Nichessa stopped mid-bite, staring at me. “You’re claiming your wife is an ascendant?”

  I chuckled, feeling a bit mad at myself for being so flippant. I guess the day’s events rattled me more than I was willing to admit.

  “Yes,” I answered, speaking more solemnly. “My ancestors fled this world, but Vexile, my First Queen, called me back using an artifact they had left behind. We’ve pledged to restore Duskhaven to its former glory, and to help our people make this land a prosperous kingdom once again.”

  She looked at me for a long time, before stating flatly, “You’re nuts.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe, but I intend to do everything I can to make our dream a reality.”

  Nichessa got up and stood by the anvil, her hands resting across its scored surface. “So what brings you out to this corner of the wasteland? You have some great plan to liberate the camp, take its resources for the good of your kingdom?”

  Considering my words carefully, I said, “That is our goal, yes, but we don’t have a solid plan yet. Today was just to scout and to get a lay of the land, to see if there were any angles we could exploit or routes we could use to sneak into the camp.”

  She laughed darkly, “Good luck with that, you barely survived one day and you had half the camp guards chasing you.”

  “We couldn’t stand by and do nothing when that child escaped,” I replied. “If we had just stood by, the guards would have captured them and inflicted who knows what kind of punishment on them.”

  “It was stupid,” she grunted.

  I didn’t argue, instead, I asked, “How well do you know the mines? You used to --”

  “I’m going to sleep,” she said suddenly, “wake me up and I’ll crack your spine in two. ”She jerked a thumb towards a pile of supplies, “
Blankets are in there, and if you go out to take a piss don’t get caught by any of those Luminark bastards.”

  I slept poorly that night.

  Though I was sure Vexile and Garnet had escaped successfully, in my nightmares I dreamt that I was trapped in some box canyon while their pained cries echoed off the stone walls. Several times I woke up in a cold sweat, sure that I could still hear them calling my name.

  If Nichessa slept any better, she didn’t show it. There were bags under her eyes when she emerged from the inner chambers the next morning.

  “Once we get you back to your camp, you’re on your own,” she gruffly told me as we prepared to leave. “If I see you sneaking around my home again, I’ll flatten your head with one of my hammers.”

  “Do you always threaten your guests?” I tersely replied.

  “I don’t have guests,” she rebuffed me.

  The sun was still just rising against the horizon when we emerged outside, with shadows thick across the rugged landscape. I didn’t see any torches or lights in the foothills, but the labor camp was lit up and buzzing with activity.

  “Why do they need so much black iron?” I wondered.

  “This is one of the few places the Luminark fucks can get it from,” Nichessa answered. “All the more bountiful mines further north are too dangerous to operate, they’re overrun with monsters unleashed by the kingdom’s downfall.”

  “What do they use the black iron for?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “The elite of the empire, like high-ranking members of the church, enjoy using it around their homes, apparently they think of it as a status symbol. But the military and the inquisition take most of it. The Luminark troops’ armor might look like silver, but that’s just plating over black iron.”

  She regarded me. “Why does the Dark Lord want it?”

  “To rebuild Gloomglow,” I turned away from the camp, looking towards the north. “We’ve done pretty well with reeds and homemade rope, but we’re going to need metal tools to rebuild our home.” I glanced back at her. “Skilled blacksmiths too.”

  She snorted, “Follow me, Dark Lord.”

  Nichessa spent a good amount of time disguising the entrance to home before we left. To my surprise, instead of taking the lowlands, she led us along the hilltops and ridges

  “The Luminark are lazy, and their mounts are terrible climbers,” she explained as we crossed a rocky slope, “so they like to stick to the easy, predictable routes.”

  “How long have you been out here?” I asked.

  She stayed mulishly silent, before finally answering, “I’m not sure exactly, but I’d say around twenty years.”

  I was shocked by that information, “You never went out, looking for other survivors or tried to go somewhere else?”

  She shook her head, “I found those ruins, and built my forge. That was enough for me.”

  “Seems lonely,” I countered.

  Pushing on, we made slow progress. We were forced to stop and hide several times while Luminark patrols and search parties moved across our path. We rested once, at another one of Nichessa’s safehouses, to refill our canteens and have a bite to eat. By the time we drew near to the ruined town it was twilight, and I was exhausted from the nerve-wracking day.

  Cresting the hill above our camp, I was happy to see there were no signs of the Luminark. Even better, I could almost feel Vexile’s presence, the magic we shared telling me that she was close. Knowing she was there and safe lifted a huge burden off my heart.

  Nichessa stood, watching my reaction, then abruptly turned around. “It was interesting meeting you, Dark Lord.”

  “Wait,” I reached out and grabbed her wrist, my fingers brushing by her gauntlets' mechanics.

  She hissed and snapped her arm back.

  “It’ll be completely dark soon,” I objected, acting as if I hadn’t noticed her reaction, “Why not wait until morning, then head back? As you said, it’s too dangerous out after dark. We can at least share some of our supplies with you and give you a safe place to sleep, as thanks for saving my life.”

  I saw something fleeting flash across her face before she relented. “Fine, just one night, then I never want to see you again.”

  “Are you always so rude to your guests?”

  She huffed, but still decided to follow me as we carefully made our way down the hill.

  Vexile was overjoyed to see me; she nearly crushed me when she launched herself at me, coiling herself tightly around my torso.

  “Robert!” she cried, tears streaming down her face, “you’re alright!”

  “I’m fine,” I confirmed, hugging her back.

  I was happy to see that Garnet, Lita, and Marl were safe as well. A small girl, dressed in the same shapeless clothes as the labor camp prisoners, was huddled near the building’s rear wall.

  Nichessa, hanging back from the group, looked at Vexile in pure shock. Her jaw worked back and forth like she was trying to find the words to speak, but she was too stunned to do so.

  Guess she didn’t fully believe me.

  Before she could turn around or leave, I gestured in her direction. “This is Nichessa, a local. She helped me escape the Luminark, then led me here.”

  Vexile, suddenly remembering her decorum, released me from her grip. Drawing to a regal height, she bowed her head. “Thank you, Nichessa, for saving my husband. All of Duskhaven owes you a debt of thanks for your service.”

  The blacksmith, finally finding her voice, sunk her head. “I didn’t have much of a choice, if they had found him, they would have found me too. It was just a matter of survival.”

  Vexile clicked her tongue. “Doing the right thing is never just a matter of survival.” She slithered forward, loosely curling around the woman. “Will you stay the night? I’m sure the Dark Lord has already asked, but I would like to hear your story.”

  Nichessa glanced at me, then nodded. “Fine, but just for the night.”

  Settling back in camp, I hurriedly spoke to Garnet, who confirmed that she had successfully evaded the Luminark and then made it back. “Her majesty was already back here, along with the kid,” she said. “I wanted to go back to look for you, Dark Lord, but the queen said you’d be fine and that she had faith in you.”

  I nodded my thanks, “I appreciate the thought, but she was right. You did a wonderful job though, and you have my thanks.” I looked towards the escaped child. “I’m sure she is thankful as well.”

  I tried to talk to her, but the child just mutely jumped up and ran towards Vexile, grabbing onto her scaly tail.

  “She hasn’t said a word,” Lita said morosely, evidently having failed at befriending her as well.

  “Let’s not push her then,” I said, after thanking Marl for his stone-like patience.

  Preparing for dinner, I saw that Nichessa stuck towards the shadows, her spot as far from the campfire’s light as possible. Marl quickly set up a cookpot, making a simple stew, before retreating to sit near his crustacean companion, which chittered quietly to itself. The child continued to stick to Vexile, nesting in her coiled tail, her eyes wide and wary.

  I decided to break the silence, which had awkwardly set over our meal. “Garnet, can you tell us about your escape?”

  The young soldier then eagerly began to tell about her flight down the wide canyon, and then how she had used a cluster of vines to climb the stone walls, just ahead of the Luminark searchers.

  “I ducked under this shelf or rock and watched them pass,” she said, her features hardening. “The stupid bastards went back and forth twice before they finally decided they had gone the wrong way and turned around.”

  Lita was enraptured, and I had no doubt that when she was old enough, she’d ask her father for permission to serve at the watchtower. She hung onto the young woman’s every word.

  Reflecting on my flight, I realized that the labor camp had likely dispatched nearly all its troops to search for one escaped child.

  When I asked about this, Nichessa
growled. “That’s Sanderson, the camp’s foreman and leader. He’s been in charge of the mine for decades and he runs it like his private kingdom.”

  The escaped child shivered at the man’s name, hiding her face in Vexile’s scales.

  “I heard the Luminark soldiers mention the same name,” I responded, looking towards the blacksmith.

  She frowned, before continuing. “Gerrad Sanderson has been in charge of the mines for as long as I’ve been alive. The rumor was, when I was a child, that he was originally banished here for some offense against a church cardinal. But since then, he’s built the place up into a private fiefdom. Supposedly the troops are more loyal to him than the empire.”

  “He’s terrible and cruel,” the little girl said, breaking her silence.

  We waited, but she said nothing further.

  Vexile then spoke up, telling us about her escape.

  “Once I grabbed the girl,” she stroked the child’s hair as she spoke, “I took her and went back the way we’d came, hoping to outpace the mounted troops, but those stupid birds are fast over open ground.”

  “Dodos,” I supplied.

  Nichessa looked at me like I was crazy.

  “We had birds like that back on Earth,” I supplied, “just much smaller, and dumber. They went extinct ages ago, but we still had pictures of what they looked like.”

  “I like that name,” Vexile laughed, “A bunch of idiots riding dodos.”

  “It’s official then,” I smiled, “we’ll dub them dodo riders.”

  My queen continued, “It took forever to escape them, since we had to keep finding hiding spots, waiting for them to pass, then sneaking by. It was almost dark by the time I made it here, and then Garnet came stumbling in less than an hour later.”

  She frowned, eyes downcast. “Garnet was right, she wanted to go searching for you, but I forbade it. I didn’t want to risk her running into a Luminark search party, I felt like the risk was too great. Instead, we hid during the day, waiting for your return.”

  Getting up, I went over and kissed her, holding her close. “It was the right decision.”

  She sighed, leaning into me. “It was so hard to make.”