Agrash smiled up at Sooz. She smiled back. “Well, that’s settled then,” she said. “Agrash and my Royal Guard will paint all the stuff they can get to, Gargon will start on the rest.”
“Yes, my Lady,” said Gargon. “I start now.”
Sooz got down off the Throne and opened the Storeroom door for Gargon with the Ring. He came out with a big pot of black paint in one hand, and a huge paintbrush in the other, and set off to start work.
“So,” said Sooz, ambling back toward the Throne, “how far have we got with the new design, Agrash?”
“For your personal Seal, my Lady? Let me show you.” Agrash took out a parchment notebook he had in his leather pouch. He opened the first page.
One of the skulls gave off a low moan. Agrash and Sooz glanced at the Throne, disturbed by the sheer weirdness of it. For a moment, Sooz’s gaze rose up over the Throne and around the Great Hall of Gloom. Over her domain. Her domain! How extraordinary it was! “Ha, what would they say back home if they could see me now? They wouldn’t believe it, not for a moment!” she muttered to herself. Then a wave of homesickness washed over her at the thought of home.
A little tear came to her eye.
“Are you all right, Dark Mistress?” said Agrash. “Don’t you want to see the designs I’ve been working on?”
“No, no, it’s not that, Agrash. It’s just that … I miss some of my old friends, you know, like Dirk and … er … others,” said Sooz, sniffing.
“You miss the Dark Lord?! Why would you miss … Er … Well … I suppose you are his betrothed, I just thought … maybe he … Umm … You know …” spluttered Agrash, confused as to why anyone would miss his old master, let alone agree to marry him, come to think of it!
“We’re not engaged, for goodness’ sake,” said Sooz in irritation.
“Not betrothed, my Lady? But then, I mean, how did you get the Ring?” said Agrash.
Sooz realized her mistake. She couldn’t let them think she wasn’t betrothed to Dirk, she couldn’t risk that. It strengthened her position here, even though the idea of it really annoyed her. Well, at first it had annoyed her, but she had to admit, she did like Dirk.
Or not, not when he was rude to her, or ignored her, or kept stupid horrible statues in his room. Anyway, for now she had to keep the pretense up.
“No, no, of course we’re … betrothed. Yes, of course. He asked me to marry him and gave me his Ring, it’s true,” said Sooz. “And I love him so much. I miss him, that’s why I’m crying,” she added to sound believable.
Agrash raised a snot-soaked eyebrow. “You … love him? Really? But he’s so … you know, big and ugly with the horns and the bony parts, and well … He’s so mean!”
Sooz stared at him in surprise for a moment. She knew Dirk didn’t look like a boy when he was the Dark Lord, but Agrash’s description was still somewhat distressing. She hadn’t thought it was that bad. That armor in his room—could it really be what he looked like?
“He’s very sweet underneath all that,” she said, half to herself.
“Really?” said an unconvinced Agrash.
“No, really. He is. Honestly. Well, to me anyway,” she said.
“Ha, probably needs you for some kind of sacrifice or something, that’s more like it!” said Agrash without thinking.
Sooz glared at him. “No! He really likes me,” she said angrily. The Ring on her finger pulsed red for a moment and Agrash paled at the sight of it.
“Umm, no, I didn’t mean … Of course he does, my Dread Queen, of course he does, Your Majesty!” he said fearfully.
Agrash looked really scared which made Sooz feel a little guilty. “That’s all right, Agrash, just forget it,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Would you like a handkerchief, my Lady?” said Agrash solicitously, happy to change the subject.
Sooz pulled herself together in an instant. “No, no, and definitely no!” she said, almost gagging just at the thought of what Agrash’s handkerchief must be like. “No handkerchief! Just show me the designs.”
“Yes, Mistress,” said Agrash, and he opened the book up to a certain page covered in strange symbols. He had been working on a new Seal design for Sooz because she didn’t want to use Dirk’s glyph as hers. She wanted one of her own.
“I kind of like this one,” said Sooz.
“Though really, it’s a little too fancy,” she added.
“What about this, my Lady?” said Agrash.
“Umm, possibly, but again, too fancy. Would it work as a seal anyway? What else have you got?” she said.
“Well, there’s this,” he said.
“Hmmm …”
Just then there was a frightful scream, a terrible howling noise that filled the entire Tower from top to bottom. Sooz nearly jumped out of her skin. “What’s that?” she said.
“It’s the Gates of Doom, your Darkness!” said Agrash, a worried look on his face.
“You mean the gargoyles? They’re screaming? Why?” said Sooz with a rising sense of panic.
“It’s the alarm, my Lady, the gargoyles are giving the alarm. It means the Tower is under attack!”
“Oh my G— Under attack! What are we going to do?” said Sooz.
“We’ll have to … umm … You’ll have to get down there, my Lady. See what’s what,” said Agrash, stuffing his book back into his leather pouch.
Sooz was seized with terror for a moment, but then she got hold of herself and a determined look appeared on her face.
“Right, we’re going to deal with this! Agrash, come with me!” she said.
“Yes, Mistress,” said Agrash glumly.
The Ring on Sooz’s finger began to pulse slowly, its runes beginning to glow as she ran down the stairs, Agrash somewhat reluctantly bringing up the rear.
Sooz ran out of the gate, Agrash in tow.
And pulled up short in horror. The gargoyle heads were still screaming their alarm—and now she could see why.
Striding toward the gates was a tall human, wearing polished steel armor from head to foot, his helmet topped with an ornate unicorn crest. In both hands he held a massive two-handed sword. Behind him marched about fifty or so men-at-arms, in chain mail, holding spears. One of them was casually pinning a Goblin to the ground. The rest of her Goblin guards were cowering against the walls of the Tower, holding out their knives and billhooks in wretched defense, hollering to be allowed into the Tower. They were no match for fully armored humans.
Sooz gasped in horror. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be happening! Agrash cowered behind her, holding on to her skirts and sniveling in fear.
At the sight of her, the lead figure halted, as did the men behind him. He threw back the visor of his helmet, revealing the face of a middle-aged veteran with a salt-and-pepper beard and bright blue eyes. “I am the Paladin, Rufino, of the Order of the Sacred Unicorn, and I shall destroy you utterly, vile creature of the night!” he shouted, pointing at Sooz with his sword. Behind him, his band of spearmen gave a mighty shout.
It was all a bit too much for Sooz. A huge warrior with a blood-soaked sword and fifty spear-armed men were about to kill her. She thought of a time when one of the bullies back at school had called her some insulting name for being a Goth.
So she just did what she did then, and held the palm of her hand up. “Whatever, dude, talk to the hand, talk to the hand,” she said uncaringly.
Rufino blinked, confused … That wasn’t what he was expecting at all. Without thinking, he stepped forward and addressed her hand, “Foul daughter of Darkness, you shall suffer and burn for your evil crimes!” He raised his sword as if to strike.
Behind him, some of his men began to mutter, pointing at Sooz. Rufino paused, as if really noticing her for the first time. His brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“But you’re … human. And you’re … you’re a girl!” he said.
Just then a figure swooped down out of the sky—paint pot in one hand, brush in the other, wings outstretched.
Gargon crashed to the ground beside Sooz. Rufino and his men took a step back in surprise, and then Rufino’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah, a foe I can understand,” he said. “Great Gargon himself. A worthy foe indeed!”
Gargon opened his mouth and roared, “If you harm one hair on my Lady’s little head, I’ll …”
“What, you’ll do what?” said Rufino, glancing down at Gargon’s hand. “Paint us all black?” Behind him his men guffawed.
Gargon blinked, confused for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed. “No, Gargon will rip your head off, and pour black paint down your neck, human scum!” he bellowed.
Rufino snarled in response, hefting his sword.
Sooz shook her head, as if she were coming to her senses. Suddenly, she was filled with a terrible angry rage. She’d been thrust into this world against her will, and forced to deal with all sorts of really weird stuff, like a huge demon, a pack of Goblins, an enchanted Tower and everything, and after all that, this fat-brained idiot comes along and just kills some Goblins, for no reason! The Ring on her finger began to pulse strongly with energy and power in response to her mood. All her fear and anxiety drained away. She’d had enough. Sooz walked up to Rufino.
“You monster, you killed them!” shrieked Sooz at the top of her voice, stamping her foot. “They’re just little Goblins, little potbellied Goblins, and you murdered them!”
Rufino blinked in confusion once more.
“Monster? Me? No, he’s the …,” he spluttered, pointing at Gargon. “And they’re … I mean, you know, they’re green, by all that’s holy,” he continued, taken aback by Sooz’s manner.
Sooz looked up at him, and started to jab him with a finger in his armored belly. Her dark purple-painted nails clicked lightly on his steel breastplate. “Oh, so you killed them just because they’re green, is that it? Look at you! You’re a big strong man in full armor, with soldiers and everything, and they’re just little Goblins, virtually defenseless! Did you even ask them to surrender or anything?”
“Umm … No, I mean … We just … Umm, surrender? What …,” he spluttered.
“I can’t believe it!” she shrieked. “You’re no different than a mindless Orc!” The Great Ring responded to her growing anger. It swelled in size, the runes coruscating with dark energy.
Rufino saw it. He gasped in horror and stepped back. “The Great Ring! She has the Ring! Get back, get back, men!” he shouted.
The dark light of the Ring bathed her in its glow. Sooz’s face was a mask of rage; she looked the picture of a vengeful Dread Queen of the Dark. Suddenly a blast of ravening energy burst from the Ring to strike the ground in front of Rufino, blowing grass, rocks, and earth into the air. Rufino was sent flying backward, to crash to the ground in a heap. Clods of dirt and pebbles rained back down and clattered off his armor where he lay. The blast left a big, smoking hole where it had struck the ground.
Sooz stared at the Ring in amazement.
“Wow!” she said.
“Nice!” said Agrash, stepping out from behind her skirts. “That’ll teach him!”
“Ah, the Blast of Ravening Flame; good work, my Queen,” said Gargon. Then he bellowed loudly, “You men, surrender now, or the Dark Lady of the Tower will destroy you all!”
Sooz looked up. Quickly she leveled the Ring at the spearmen, as if ready to blow them all to pieces. Though truth be known, she wasn’t sure if she could make it work again. She concentrated, imagining the blast. The Ring began to hum—she could feel it charging up! All she had to do was think … so … and … so … and then, yes, it would fire! Quickly she reined herself in. She didn’t really want to hurt anyone after all.
The spearmen stood there, uncertain. Rufino began to stir. He’d been stunned, but now he was recovering. He got to his feet groggily and removed his helmet.
He glared at Gargon. “If I had known she wielded the Ring I would have come with greater force,” he said.
Agrash chipped in. “Well, she does, so there! So you’d better surrender, or she’ll blast you back to Gam!”
Rufino frowned. If it were just him, he’d have taken his chances, and if he’d lost, it would be a glorious, honorable death. But he had his men to consider. If they fought, many of them would be slaughtered in seconds by the power of the Ring. On the other hand, surrender to the Dark usually meant death or slavery. He could expect to be killed and his men enslaved. Except that this time Hasdruban would come. And soon, probably. He’d defeated the Dark Lord, surely he could defeat this Dark Lady. Dark Girl really. And then the White Wizard would free Rufino’s men.
Rufino sighed. He’d seen too many battles, too many pointless deaths in his lifetime. Maybe this was it. He’d gambled on a quick surprise attack and it hadn’t paid off. Ah, well. Time to minimize the damage. He dropped his sword, and signaled his men to do likewise.
“We surrender,” he said. With that, the rest of her Goblins ran forward, full of confidence now, tittering and giggling in Goblin fashion as they began to gather up all the men’s weapons.
They piled them up in front of Sooz. She stood there, surveying the field of battle, unsure about what to do next.
“Shall we slay them all, my Lady, or just the paladin?” growled Gargon.
“No! No. We’re not killing anyone. We shall show them mercy, of course,” said Sooz.
“Mercy? Really? Oh well, as you command, my Lady,” said Gargon.
Rufino raised an eyebrow. That was one for the books.
“So, we enslave them, then? Put them to work in the Slave Pits of Never-Ending Toil,” said Agrash.
“No, no, we’re not going to enslave them!” said Sooz, shocked. “We don’t do slavery anymore around here, all right?”
“No slavery? Oh … Well … Umm, well, as you command, Dread Queen,” said Agrash.
“Gargon, make sure our Goblins give them food and drink while I talk with Rufino,” said Sooz. “Agrash, come with me, and bring your notebook.”
“Yes, my Lady,” said Agrash.
Rufino was staring at her, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Now,” said Sooz, walking up to the paladin. “We’re going to draw up some kind of peace treaty, see if we can live together without all this ridiculous fighting …”
In the Court of the Moon Queen
So, how is the republication of the Darklands’ news-sheet coming along, Agrash?” said Sooz as she lounged on the Throne of Skulls. The Throne gave off an inquisitive moan, as if to underscore her question. Sooz smiled at that—she was getting used to the freaky throne at last.
“I have the first issue, my Dark Mistress. The Daily Massacre is back in circulation!” said Agrash enthusiastically, handing her a single sheet of newspaper.
Sooz nodded. “I like it, Agrash, though isn’t there something we can do about the date?”
“Ah, I understand, my Lady, it shall be as you command in the next issue,” said Agrash.
Sooz was holding court, something she had been doing for several days now. It’d been fun, but now it was too much like hard work—she had to make difficult decisions and things. She had to actually rule the kingdom. Or queendom as she preferred to call it.
Just below the Throne on the left stood Agrash, officially bestowed with the titles Royal Chamberlain and Keeper of the Words of Doom. These were titles she’d allowed him to give himself, though she preferred the one she’d given him—Mr. Snotnose Greenbelly. Agrash was dressed in a black tabard with Sooz’s new personal Seal inlaid on it, which looked like this:
On her right stood Gargon, the Dread Lieutenant and the Royal Bodyguard or, as Sooz preferred to call him, My Buddy, the Big Horned Demon-Thing.
The Great Hall of Gloom was not so gloomy anymore. Sooz had stationed Goblin guards beside each great pillar, thus permanently activating the Hasdruban Lamps, so the hall was bathed in a lovely silvery glow while still retaining a brooding sense of gothic menace.
What was even more interesting was the group of people—well
, some of them were people—who were gathered around her Throne.
One was a big, heavy Orc chieftain called Skabber Stormfart and, for an Orc, he was a genius—i.e., about as intelligent as your average human adult. Beside him stood a Nightgaunt, basically an insect-legged, sleek-looking batlike thing about five feet tall with glowing green eyes, black, furry wings, and little sharp pointy teeth. Its name was RakRak the Nest Lord. Nightgaunts were very intelligent, but also kind of weird. Goblins and Orcs were similar to humans, but Nightgaunts weren’t; they were very different.
And beside RakRak stood a something that had never been in the Tower before, ever—a paladin. In this case, Rufino.
Much had happened since she had become the Moon Queen. News of the resurgence of the Dark had drawn many back to the Tower. More Goblins had come to take up residence in the Goblin Warrens. A thousand-strong tribe of Plains Orcs had come back and were living in a small city of tents nearby. Nightgaunts had returned to nest in the Eyries of the Night, the topmost battlements and pinnacles of the Iron Tower. Daily they flew out in wide-ranging patrols to report back on activities in the vicinity. Both RakRak and Skabber had sworn allegiance to Sooz, accepting her as the rightful Queen of the Dark. Already the Tower was being referred to as the Tower of the Moon, rather than its old title, the Iron Tower of Despair.
And most amazing of all, Sooz had concluded a peace treaty with the local humans and their leader Rufino. The humans had a small settlement nearby, originally inhabited by amusement park workers and other settlers. They still remained, about a thousand humans, living in peace with the Dark. Some Goblins had even moved into the village and an Orc or two, traders and merchants mostly. And, so far so good, no one had killed anyone. Yet.
But something was up, something to disturb the fragile peace Sooz had managed to put together. Rufino had demanded an audience with the Moon Queen—he had grievances. Sooz had granted his request and here he was.
“Enough of this news-sheet nonsense,” said Rufino angrily, “I demand to be heard!”
Gargon narrowed his eyes. “Do not talk like that to my Lady,” he growled.
Dark Lord, School's Out Page 7
