Demonworld Book 6: The Love of Tyrants

by Kyle B. Stiff

  Lumber continued to flow downstream, and new arrivals came with supplies from Pontius. Whores eager to escape their violent pimps came in droves. The Law in Pontius cracked down on these so-called criminals trying to flee from justice, but those that escaped the Precinct dungeons found themselves in a new world where they could set their own prices, pay mercenaries for their own protection, and work openly in the light of day. Those that morally opposed their trade were free to not take part in it.

  Year Three. The financial system and problem of taxation became too complicated for a barter-based financial system, so King Wodan proposed that coins be minted: the copper uni, the nickel deca, the silver cent, and the gold kilo. Wodan based the new state tax on sales conducted in the mercantile stores that clustered around the mines and lumber yards simply because it was easy for a handful of tax men to keep track of things. Theoretically, any man who chose only to deal with other individuals could completely escape paying any taxes at all, but by this time most citizens were conducting their trade with businesses run by full-time merchants anyway. The first and second bank opened that year, so citizens could take out large loans and increase the scope of their operations while the bankers grew fat on the interest.

  When asked about the growing economic inequality in the Valley, King Wodan told one of the Valley’s first journalists, “I can’t solve a problem as old as civilization itself. I can only solve the small problems, the easy problems. That’s why I made a land filled with people who aren’t afraid to solve problems on their own. They can do a lot of the work for me.”

  When asked what he would do if the growing class of bankers began to tinker with their nation against the best interest of the populace at large, King Wodan simply said, “Don’t worry about that sort of thing. Look at what happened to the demons and ghouls who tried to control us once before. Let the bankers remember that.”

  More people found their way out of Pontius, including several Smiths who renounced their oaths and wanted to become free men. They brought their knowledge of electricity and engineering. They attached themselves to the wealthy and opened the first factories; hydroelectrically powered via the river, or stationed near the mines and fed by coal. The first printing press was opened and, under the guidance of Jarl and the Entertainers, books and comics and art prints were distributed. The most famous was a pulp serial called Mean Streets of Pontius! which was full of sex, violence, and big-breasted women displayed on every cover. Zachariah Hargis produced his own philosophical journal, and Wodan’s friend Magog illustrated his own action-comedy comic book about a shaman and warrior dogman crime-fighting duo.

  The first murderer was caught and had to be dealt with. Wodan discussed the matter with Yarek Asher and other community leaders, then rested while the others continued the debate. Finally Wodan rose, went to the accused, and said, “You’re a slave now. Work off your debt.” He then returned to sleep.

  Crime increased in general, so Wodan created the three laws against murder, rape, and theft, and appointed judges to dole out sentences of public beating and temporary enslavement. He funneled tax money into the creation of a police force with severely restricted powers and appointed Naarwulf as Chief of Enforcers. These physically fit men and dogmen roamed the dusty roads and gathering places, ignoring thousands of instances of acting like a jackass in public spaces so that they could focus their martial impulses on doing anything necessary to enforce the three laws.

  Counseled by Yarek and Zachariah, King Wodan formed a military force as well. These voluntary fighters were called Rangers, because they often ranged out into the mountains and even into the wasteland in order to train. They also provided armed and unarmed self-defense classes to citizens. But General Clash’s fighting men rarely hunted the ghouls that still lurked in the forests and foothills, because King Wodan created the Ghoul Genocide Bounty Program. Citizens with killer instincts but little inclination to join the disciplined Rangers or Enforcers were paid to bring in ghoul heads on a head-by-head basis. The King looked forward to a day when the program would no longer be necessary.

  Year Four. An envoy of Smiths and Lawmen flew in to visit King Wodan. They stood in Wodan’s back yard, slapping away mosquitoes while the King chiseled something from a large block of marble. In diplomatic tones they relayed two threats. The first, from Foreman Arcturus, the leader of the Smiths, was an order to return all Smiths who had defected and revealed forbidden knowledge. The second, from the city Officials, was that the smuggling of illegal drugs into Pontius must stop at its source. Without turning away from his work, King Wodan told them that no citizens of the Valley would ever be turned over to Pontius against their will. When they tried to argue, he said, “You can’t compete with my people by holding your own back. This isn’t a place where knowledge is forbidden. Those days are over.” To the Lawmen representing the Officials, he said, “How do you expect me to keep your people from gorging on drugs to the point of self-destruction? What other alternative do they have? You’ve got to give them something to believe in, or at least give them enough room to find something on their own. You live in a gray world, gentlemen, but humans weren’t meant to live in a gray world.” The King then offered to let the envoys live in the Valley.

  Shocked by his strange words and unwillingness to leave off from his work to properly greet men of their standing, the envoys withdrew to a little inn near the river in order to formulate a new strategy. The week they stayed there proved disastrous to them. First their servants and guards began disappearing, then while the envoys investigated the possibility of foul play, men openly deserted their stations and did not bother to hide from their former masters. One desperate envoy hatched a plan to steal Wodan’s sword, but after sneaking into Wodan's home while he slept, he found that he could not even pick the sword up. They left the King a note in which they swore vengeance in the name of Pontius.

  King Wodan sent invitations back with the envoys to Miss Oliver of the Businessmen and Judge Rosebudd of the Law, a man who, years ago, he had tried to persuade to legalize all drugs in order to break the power of the Pontius gangs. Miss Oliver refused, stating that she was losing everything that had been built over the course of generations thanks to the Black Valley and its deleterious effects on Pontius currency. Judge Rosebudd did not bother to reply, but Wodan heard that the aging Judge beseeched city Officials to take off their kid gloves and pass harsher laws in order to save their people from the influence of lawless, immoral outsiders.

  Others were not so stubborn. Edwar Bruner and his wife, Fortunata, a respected artist in the Pontius underground scene, left the protection of the Businessmen and defected to the Black Valley. Bruner’s airship had made trade possible between Pontius and the Black Valley, and had been stolen from him in a thousand different ways without any real compensation, so King Wodan made the difficult decision to grant the man a sum of money through taxes. He assumed that the two would retire in peace, but they did not. Fortunata had once been a highly skilled prostitute when she was enslaved by the Ugly, and she wanted others like her to have the power to control their lives; thus she used her husband’s money to build the House of Ishtar. Wodan was not happy that tax money had effectively been used to fund a large whorehouse, because he knew that many of his citizens were morally opposed to such a lifestyle. By way of apology she commissioned the work of a fancy chair called the Throne of Wood, which she placed in the House of Ishtar just for the King. Fortunata became one of the wealthiest citizens of the Valley, and her husband was able to study and invent full-time.

  Year Five. The population of the Valley increased dramatically, mostly at the expense of Pontius. The Smiths experienced the worst of the “brain drain” as their best engineers left in droves. Artists and Entertainers also grew tired of working for thick-headed brutes and left, sometimes in loud, cheering mobs that threw parties at the airfields where they embarked. The Valley was already a beautiful land, but it flourished in architecture, painting, literature, stage productions, and all
the other arts. Musicians from rival schools argued loudly in cafes. Renaissance was at hand.

  Laws against leaving Pontius were suddenly passed by desperate Officials. No exceptions were allowed in the new Law, but corruption ran high, and hefty bribes could still secure a spot on an airship - plus traders were known to disappear all the time. Wodan told a reporter that he applauded the efforts of the Pontius Officials, as the new Law made it more difficult for lazy citizens to leave their land and enter his.

  King Wodan was petitioned to grant churches tax-exempt status. Instead he leaned on them to offer more services to the poor. “Any church that does not actively serve the poorest members of the community is a cult, nothing more,” he said. “The Ugly didn’t come from nothing. You’re at a turning point in your development. You can either rob people by teaching them that they’re born sinful and should turn the other cheek, or you can strengthen them through active service that will earn the admiration of everyone.”

  Year Six. There were still no official executions or imprisonments in the Black Valley, but the people of Pontius laughed at the rumors of revenge killings. A stage production titled It’s a Dog’s Life dramatized the lynching of a dogman accused of rape. In the play, the beleaguered dogman protagonist was chased and beaten by mindless hicks for over an hour. When he finally reached the stronghold of Dictator Wodan, he fell to his knees and cried out, “Save me! Justice, my lord! I beg you!” A chorus of children appeared and pleaded for the dogman’s life as well. But Dictator Wodan only glared at the poor dogman with cold, dead eyes, then uttered the memorable line, “Mercy... is for... the weak!” before drawing a gun and killing the dogman. One reviewer in Pontius wrote, “As the lights are dimmed and we are left with only the chilling laughter of a madman, we are reminded that there are darker, more horrible places outside our walls than we can imagine even in nightmares.” Wodan wrote letters requesting that the play be shown in his land, but since the troupe of artists were paid by the city Officials, their laws forbade them from entering his land and so he was refused his request.

  Inspired by the play, King Wodan took to writing short stories and scripts for comic books in his spare time. Among his work was Vendicci… Revenger! which was illustrated by the dogman Magog.

  To remind his people that the flesh demons were still around, if not in the Valley, he wrote a short novel called Year of Our Lord. It was written from the perspective of a demon who hunted humans for sport, and it was not taken well – mostly because a demagogue named Mallery used it as the launching point for his campaign to democratize the nation. “So our all-powerful King empathizes with demons, does he?” he often said in the bars and open air markets. “Fine representation that is!” He had no record of work, though some said that he received his funding from several powerful businessmen and church leaders. When asked where he came from, he would only answer, “From the people.” He surrounded himself with a cadre of politically-minded public activists who challenged their king to fund schools, labor unions, churches, the poor, and dogmen who grew up in a tribal culture and were thus at a disadvantage when it came to surviving in a world of “cannibalistic sociopaths”. Wodan ignored Mallery and his circle of upstanding do-gooders.

  Then the unthinkable happened. The dignity of the Smiths was slighted, and could not go unavenged, when businesses of the Black Valley began exporting technology into Pontius. High quality, cheaply made, and all-around unholy devices. The god of the Smiths, Epimetheus, was dead… and Foreman Arcturus swore that Wodan would follow him into the grave.

  Year Seven: The Smith War. Soon after King Wodan’s thirtieth birthday, Smith Zealots launched an aerial assault on the towns of the Black Valley. Their zeppelins streamed in, dropping bombs on factories and businesses and homes. Troop transports dropped Smith Magi goons and even well-trained, heavily armed Lawmen, for Director DeSark of Precinct Zero and his diplomatic spirit had become increasingly unpopular, and a clique of city Officials and Judges - spearheaded by Judge Rosebudd - had fallen into the pockets of the Smiths, who stirred up a spirit of nationalism against the free people of the Valley.

  But the Valliers were not caught completely unawares. Rangers in the mountains shot down zeppelins and confused their well-planned flying formations. Chief Naarwulf and his Enforcers fought the invaders in the dusty streets of the towns, though they always seemed outnumbered and outgunned. Worst of all, the Smiths flew in heavy war tanks, machines run on combustible oil not available in the Valley. While many of these expensive machines were destroyed en route, the few that made it into the cities brought devastating losses. The outnumbered Rangers and Enforcers were bolstered by armed Vallier citizens enraged that their homes were under attack by fascists with good intentions. While the demagogue Mallery was not seen during the battle, King Wodan wielded Capricornus and brought down a Smith tank on his own.

  Though their losses were high, the Smith and Law invaders were killed, down to the last man. Taking prisoners was impossible, as the citizens were too angry to hold themselves back from lynching any invader who laid down his arms.

  King Wodan funneled tax dollars into General Yarek Asher’s plans for an elite fighting force, the Special Forces Slayers. They would be fighting men without rank, independent thinkers culled by grueling physical and psychological tests during an intense training program. Many Slayers were recruited from hunters who made their living in the Ghoul Genocide Bounty Program, and were already known as “ghoul slayers.”

  The Smiths and the Law attacked the Valley several times that year. The two nations evolved in their methods of war. All trade was cut off. The last shipment of goods sent to Pontius included several crates full of the maggot-ridden heads of the invaders, along with a note that read, “The only head we want is that of Smith Foreman Arcturus.” A great bounty was promised, and the note was signed by many wealthy Vallier citizens.

  Year Eight: Conclusion of the Smith War. Many battles were fought in and around the Black Valley. The Rangers fought with guerilla tactics, using the environment against the foreign invaders. The Smiths favored large assaults, but even that proved difficult in towns inhabited by armed citizens. The Smiths had to pay their spies enormous sums of money in order to keep them from defecting or spreading stories about the sort of life available in the Valley when they returned home. The Slayers earned a black reputation for intercepting a shipment of Magi prisoners floating downriver to Pontius; they massacred the men and spread graffiti on the boat that mocked the Smiths. When news of the attack reached the Valley, only the gentlest souls could fault the Slayers, and the demagogue Mallery kept his silence as patriotic sentiment ran high.

  The war that drew the Valley together tore Pontius apart. The small gangs went wild as Lawmen were pulled in different directions; Director DeSark threatened retirement if city Officials did not pull the Law out of the Smiths’ personal vendetta; the Officials stubbornly continued to curry the favor of the Smith overlords; DeSark, unwilling to abandon the citizens to gang violence, backed down from his threat of retirement. Judge Rosebudd became like a man possessed, and often spoke of the salvation of their people in terms of a grand battle between absolute good and evil. When Miss Oliver and her remaining circle of Businessmen circulated pamphlets that questioned the validity of the war, Judge Rosebudd, Oliver’s former friend, flew into a wild rage and hit the streets with a screaming tirade about the endless struggle to maintain a pure, wholesome homeland while stuck in a sardine can full of traitors. The crowd was evenly divided between those that were filled with bloodlust and righteous indignation, a younger set who could not help but laugh at an old man losing his cool during an impromptu speech, and others who were disturbed by the sight of an authority figure in the possession of an ego fed by fantasy and lost in a dream.

  King Wodan abandoned his farm and most governing duties and concentrated on the war. He left General Clash in charge of tactics and strategy while he concentrated on the small scale, either working with others on the front lines or ranging
out alone. His taxmen handled financial responsibilities and his judges handled matters of law, but Wodan also allowed the election of representatives with limited power to oversee local matters. He appointed the demagogue Mallery as representative of representatives, with the understanding that all of them could be turned out at a moment’s notice without warning or cause. Mallery, silent during much of the war, set to writing grand proposals for “a nation, as it could be” which he circulated throughout the Valley. Mallery wrote that the King was “off somewheres, who knows?” Wodan only replied to these circulations once, and it was by publishing the recorded minutes of a meeting he’d had with the representatives in which they discussed their pay, the privileges of their positions, and several humorous arguments that broke out during the meeting. The publication was an embarrassment; Mallery made no official statement on the matter, but surrounded himself with understanding ears.

  Pontius degraded. Scarcity led to chaos and rioting. The Law responded by tightening security and recruiting more men – not exactly the best of the best – to patrol the streets. Fear choked out any sense of hope. Director DeSark’s health degenerated rapidly. Judge Rosebudd became a target of volatile scorn by Officials who wanted a scapegoat for the botched war and resulting quagmire; the force that possessed and drove Rosebudd deserted him all at once and, after he collapsed in a restroom in Cathedralia, he became a doddering, senile old man overnight. Foreman Arcturus survived a dozen attempts on his life, some by Smiths very close to him, and became increasingly detached from reality. Rumors spread that he screamed as he slept, tortured by paranoid nightmares. But he refused to give up his war against the Valliers.