by Wade Adrian
Egerton bowed his head, turned on his heel, and held his hand out toward the door. “But of course. This way, if you please. Trust that the Dark Lord’s followers will continue their efforts unearthing the Dark Citadel and making it presentable as the stately place it truly is. We must put our best foot forward.”
Cecil nodded. “Right, what he said.”
Egerton marched toward the door, the two flanking standard bearers waiting until Cecil started ahead, at which point they matched his pace but moving a single step behind.
Lady Aldora seemed to approve, nodding as she observed the procession, also a pace behind Cecil.
Murray and Bonnie followed at the rear. She kept her eyes low. Murray stomped along with his arms crossed and his chin in the air.
All of this was well beyond Cecil’s understanding… or his intent. He wanted this problem to go away and yet it just kept on getting bigger. Now he had a dead noble, too. One that was only too happy to run the place in his stead.
If only he could.
Well, maybe letting him be seen as the figurehead would work out. Yeah… Cecil rubbed at his chin. No one had seen him yet, aside from a few guards in Hearthshire. Let them think Egerton was the cause of this and it may get suspicion, and punishment, away from Cecil.
He almost ran into Egerton. The skeleton had stopped and spun on his heel again. He held his hands out toward a large doorway. “The kitchens, my lord. I understand you have brought on someone to run them. A wise decision. Our lack of olfactory senses make us poor chefs.”
Murray nodded. “And our lack of lungs plays hell with the brass section of the marching band. Percussion and strings for everyone.”
Egerton might not have caught Murray’s tone, because he nodded. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
The guy’s only setting seemed to be laying it on thick.
Cecil glanced that way. There were no doors, really. Doors didn’t survive forever and this building was ages old. Still, on the inside it looked quite nice. The room was made of stone like the rest, but it had been cleared out and had shelves which already sported pots, pans, and flatware. There was a set of large ovens at the far end, and various counters and cooking surfaces.
Bonnie slipped into the room. “Wow.”
Cecil took a step back as skeletons came up from behind the group, loaded down with the barrels and crates they had brought. Bonnie waved her hands. “Yes, yes. Come in, come in. Please set them over there, thank you.”
The skeletons wandered in and lined up, holding the crates and barrels in front of them.
She swept her eyes around the group. “I did say please, didn’t I?”
Egerton leaned towards the door. “Take no offense, ma’am. They only recognize orders from designated… personnel.” He waved his hand toward the laborers. “Place your burdens at the far end of the room, if you would be so kind.”
They moved and set things down as instructed.
She frowned. “Well, I guess that will do. It will take me quite awhile to get this place situated alone, though. There’s only so much I can do in a place like this. It’s quite… large.”
Cecil nodded. “Uh, right. Fair point. Guys?” He swept his hand at the skeletons in the kitchen. “Her commands should be treated as mine.”
Cecil noticed Lady Aldora frown a little.
“As… long as it pertains to food, kitchens, that sort of thing.”
Lady Aldora nodded. “Quite the lofty position for one who was simply a scullery maid hours ago.”
Bonnie nodded. “No kidding. I’ll do my best for you, I swear it. You won’t regret this decision.”
Egerton puffed out his… breastplate. “My lord Cecil is most generous. I am certain everything will work out as he has foreseen.”
Cecil hadn’t foreseen what he wanted for breakfast in a few hours. Egerton was either going to be a great help, or a rather useless yes man. “Indeed. You okay here, Bonnie?”
She already had skeletons dancing around the room, placing things on shelves. It looked to be alphabetical order given the ones she had already named. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Everything is lovely.”
Cecil nodded. “Good.” He waved at Egerton. “Be sure she gets some nice quarters too, yes? Can’t expect her to sleep in the kitchens.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Lady Aldora leaned in close as the procession started again. “You mustn’t be too familiar with the help. It gives a poor impression.”
“Yesterday I was a farmer, which I think is a step below ‘the help,’ seeing as how I didn’t even live in the city.”
“Things change, Lord Cecil.”
He felt a bit tingly when she spoke so close to him. And yet… “Huh. I’m sort of used to them saying it, but it’s weird to hear you say it. Nobility is a birthright after all, and I certainly don’t have it.”
Lady Aldora grinned slightly. “That’s the tale that’s told, yes. But the truth those at the top know all too well is that while it is handed down now, someone had to take it first. To claim it. Nobility is simply how we organize power. Power can be obtained. Get enough of it, and the world will recognize you for it, Lord Cecil.”
She was gorgeous. She was smart. She was here to help him, and every word she said to him made him feel tingly.
But all of that had sounded incredibly ominous.
12
Cecil had bad memories of the staircase, and yet here he was again. He was winded before he made it up to anything familiar. Down had been a lot easier, if a lot more dangerous.
Lady Aldora seemed to be fine, though whenever Cecil stopped to catch his breath she waited. But then again… everyone did. Like he was the one they were escorting or something.
The doorway they stopped at was near the top. Egerton did his usual routine where he stopped by practically hopping and then spun on his heel. He held out a hand to the door. “The lady may find these quarters to be to her liking, at least for the evening. Honestly I was thinking of keeping them for myself, but that would be ungentlemanly of me.”
Murray rolled his eyes. “Also we don’t sleep.”
“There is that to consider, yes.” Egerton nodded. “It’s the finest set of rooms we have available, short of those one floor up which are reserved for the Dark Lord. I will post only the finest retainers just outside. You may ask them for anything, and they’ll search it out even if it means their own deaths.” He held his chin high. “Granted, that means less to us with its impermanence, but they would have done it anyway.”
She inclined her head. “You are most kind.” Her eyes drifted to Cecil. “I shall see thee on the morrow, my lord. Sleep well.”
He waved a bit sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. You too.”
Murray sighed.
Egerton posted two skeletons, one on either side of the empty doorway, before leading them up yet another flight of stairs. It was still short of the top floor, where all this nonsense had started, but it was high enough Cecil was feeling light headed. Or it might have been exhaustion. And the ridiculously late hour. He didn’t even know what time it was, but he was quite sure a full nights sleep was out of the question.
He recalled that all he had wanted when he had left home was his own roof to sleep under so he could have some peace and quiet. Well, he had a roof, but he had never slept less. Ugh.
Egerton waved to a large doorway. “And these are your chambers, my lord.”
“Great, thanks.” Cecil gave a salute, at least the best one he could manage with no real knowledge of such things, and headed on in.
Egerton seemed pleased. “Rest well, my lord. Tomorrow, the world is yours.” He spun on his heel and started back down the stairs.
Cecil sat on the edge of a large bed. It had posts and hanging cloth. Half of it was covered with pillows. The room had chairs that matched, a desk with a large mirror, and a completely separate room he could see into that had couches. It was all quite dim, only a few lamps burning low to see by.
“Goody…” He sighed
and fell back onto the bed. It was soft. Too soft. He hadn’t slept on a mattress he sank into… ever. It felt weird.
“I wouldn’t worry about him.” Cecil glanced up to see Murray leaning against the door frame. “Lord Egerton was my predecessor. From a different time, clearly. I’m sure his stuffed shirt is around here somewhere.”
“Seems like he doesn’t like you.” He collapsed back onto the bed.
“I don’t think he likes anyone. He just can’t speak out against you.” He tapped the side of his skull. “We’re servants, no matter how he tries to spin it.”
“Personally I’m hoping I wake up in my own bed, and all of this was just one big bad dream.” He pulled one of the pillows close to cover his eyes. “No offense.” The lamps were weird globe… things. He didn’t want to mess with them. With the kind of luck he had been sporting lately, he’d probably burn down the stone tower.
“None taken.” Murray shrugged. “I don’t think anyone has ever really gotten what they wanted when the put that crown on.”
Odd thing to say. Cecil propped the pillow up a tad. “What did you want?”
Murray pushed off the door frame and started back out into the hall. “To fix the world.” He waved. “Get some rest, boss. You’ll need it. I’ll be around if something happens.”
A walking and talking skeleton saying such things would be concerning to most people, but as it stood… he felt better with Murray out there. He seemed quite a bit more on the level than this Egerton guy. Besides, Murry had already had a perfectly good chance to kill Cecil in his sleep and hadn’t done it. That was worth something.
The fact that Murry wasn’t alone in his station was sort of troubling, though. Egerton could command the skeletons to do whatever he wanted, short of having them toss Cecil off the tower or something. Murray had said a few times that they couldn’t hurt him, or even act against him. Did that protect Lady Aldora? Or Bonnie? He hoped it did. If nothing else, he thought Murray would look out for them.
Strange thing to think. On the way back, he was wondering how he was going to keep people from marching in here and stomping all over him. That seemed a lot less likely with all the additional skeletons watching the place. But now he was concerned that Egerton might be a problem, and yet assumed Murray, whom he had only known for a day, was better.
All of it was bonkers.
“I’m going to wake up, and I’m going to see the old wooden roof over my head. Normal gaps in the boards showing thatch and daylight, as ever. Little brothers and sisters making ungodly amounts of noise, which I will sleep through because I’m so accustomed to it.” He sighed.
And hoped.
Morning light didn’t bring wood or thatch. His eyes opened to see draped black silk overhead. He pushed the pillow out of his face. It was a deep purple color.
Everything in the room was exceptional. The pillows were every color under the sun, all of them made of materials he barely recognized, having only seen them at a distance in the market. None of it was burlap or cotton, he knew that much.
Well, aside from his clothing.
There was a rug under his feet and tapestries adorning his walls. All of the furniture was made of dark wood polished until it shone. Everything metal was gold… aside from one candelabra that was made of silver. It was quite intricate, though. Very well made.
He felt like he had broken into a lords manner and taken a nap. Had he been drinking? He’d heard of people doing things like this. It would explain the crazy dreams…
“Good morning my lord!”
Cecil managed to not scream when Egerton waltzed into the room like he owned the place. He’d forgone his breastplate in favor of a red silk coat that hung on him about as well as it would on a coat hanger. “Did you sleep well?”
“I guess. Can’t really recall.”
“Mmm.” Egerton nodded. “Not as much as you needed, most likely. Still, business is afoot.” He stopped at the silver candelabra and narrowed his red glowing eyes at it. “Well this won’t do.” He snatched it up and tossed it out a window into the morning light. The place was lacking in glass as well as doors. “I shall have a replacement located immediately.”
Cecil watched as the detailed piece of silver sailed out of view.
“That was probably worth more than my family’s farm.”
And Egerton had tossed it out the window like so much trash. Certainly a rude thing to do regardless of the trash’s true value. The skeleton glanced at the window. “And yet, to the Dark Lord it is practically worthless. So far have you risen.”
Cecil shook his head, banishing cobwebs of sleep. Not an argument he was going to make headway on. “You said something about business?”
“Indeed, my lord. Riders approach, or I would have let you sleep longer.”
Cecil sat up. “Riders?” He was awake now.
Egerton waltzed over to a tall armoire and flung it open. It was only holding about a quarter of what it could. “We must find something suitably intimidating. I find black is the most common choice, but it can be a might… understated. I liked to punctuate it with bright reds, and the occasional purple. It made those speaking to me think of blood and bruises. Sort of a little veiled threat. A fashionable threat, if you will.”
“Lovely.”
“I’m glad you approve, my lord.”
He really didn’t.
Egerton set out some things on the bed. It was primarily black cloth. “These should fit. I had only vague descriptions to work with. I’ll get them working to find only proper things from here on out.”
Cecil rubbed at his neck. “You seem to know a lot about all this. Glad to have you on board.”
“It’s an honor.”
“Murray says you’re kind of obligated.”
“True. Still an honor.”
“You don’t like him, and yet you preceded him. So, if you… er… stopped being Dark Lord before he was even born…”
“Oh, long before. Ages.”
“Then how do you know a thing about him?”
“The crown knows. Everything about us is made part of it. Successes, defeats, and even our intentions. Muireach is… a disappointment. He had the greatest power in the world in his hands for only a few brief moments. He planned poorly and was slapped down for it. Most of us spent years as Dark Lords. Muireach had only hours, most of that spent beneath rubble, and yet for his blunder he is just as trapped as we are. For all eternity. Sad, really.”
“You’d feel better if he had done more with it?”
“Each of us is but a piece of the whole. We are ever hopeful that the next will be greater, to carry our names and deeds to new generations. Spread our legend wider and wider until one day the entire world knows of us, and serves.”
Oh, was that all? “Well, I hope I don’t disappoint. All I wanted was a farm.” Cecil held up the clothing. Black pants, black shirt, black coat with a red collar and cuffs. Lovely.
“You’ve already succeeded at more than Muireach. What farm would you like? We’ll secure it after your unannounced meeting this morning. You can visit it. Having your own supply of food is probably wise. One former lord was poisoned.”
As if Cecil didn’t have enough to worry about…
He waved for Egerton to step into the next room. Best to head the man’s conquest plans off before he started knocking down the doors of Cecil’s old neighbors. “I doubt any of the skeletons know much about farming. Better to buy loyalty of those that do. Murray said something about a treasury.” It only took him a few moments to get changed.
Egerton’s voice carried into the room. “Indeed, and also wise. I shall send envoys. They may scream in fear at the sight of your followers, but they’ll scream giddily at the sight of gold. Such is the will of mankind. Best not to make too many enemies until we’re at full strength.”
Buying the food from farmers who usually sent it to a king would do just that, but at least it would be less of a problem than other methods. “What do you mean by full streng
th?”
“Much of the citadel is still buried. Work continues to unearth it. There are more followers in nearly every hidden away room. Each find strengthens us. I myself was at rest in this tower. We may yet find other previous lords to act on your behalf. Personally, I would be delighted to find them. Good help is so hard to come by.”
A subtle way to say he didn’t trust Murry to do the job. But at least he was learning that Cecil didn’t have the same distaste for the man. Er, skeleton.
Cecil wandered into the sitting room, his arms up. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You look glorious, my lord.”
“Well, I’ll take your word for it.” He twisted his arms back and forth and pulled at the collar. “It all… hangs wrong.”
“Utilitarian clothing is cut differently, yes. Much more loose. You’ll grow accustomed to tailored garments.” Egerton stood behind Cecil and draped a red cape over his shoulders.
He looked absolutely ridiculous.
Egerton had black boots in hand, too. Of course. Black on black on black. “Best to get moving. Muireach is down there waiting, and I shudder at the thought of him handing out first impressions.”
Now that was criticism Cecil could agree with.
13
The dust trails kicked up for some distance while Murray sat on the stone railing outside the door. There was a ramp of earth leading up to it now. More of the structure had been unearthed, but until they found another door this one would have to do. Climbing in through windows was just too undignified… for some people.
The sound of hooves didn’t precede the riders by much. Murray waited, thirty skeletons at his back, milling around on the balcony. He hadn’t requested them, but Egerton would know if he sent them away. The only reason they were there was to intimidate whoever was bold enough to approach. Word had gotten out by now. It must have. People knew what was here, or at least that skeletons were here. And yet… only a handful of riders. Twenty at most. Odd. Murray couldn’t decide if they were coming to surrender or to ask him to.