The Dark Lord Cecil

by Wade Adrian

  It was all academic, really. True intimidation was all too easy. He’d start a fight, let them “kill” him, and then get back up, his point undoubtedly proven.

  So much more fun than than Egerton’s way. Boring bloody bureaucrat.

  The horses stopped several yards away, forming a line, save one that moved out ahead. The rider held up a hand. “Greetings and good morning, umm… sir?”

  “Good morning is a greeting.” Murray hopped down from the railing. This was bound to be a long day.

  “Uh… so it is. Yes. Afraid this language isn’t my first.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. I know you’re not speaking mine, but I still understand you. Yay magic.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard as much.” The man nodded several times. He wore rather silly looking robes, draped in loose colorful cloth stripes. Odder and odder. Murray had been expecting more… armor. And weapons. A few of the riders had both, but not in any great supply. They were more like guards than soldiers, and a few of them didn’t have the things buckled on right. All of them, even the guards, had some form of corrective lenses or other on their faces. “I’m actually here to learn about you, if you’ll permit.”

  Murray shrugged. “A spy, huh? Not exactly sneaky. You must have skipped a few lessons. Besides, not my place to permit anything. Not even to permit permits. So if you want to build something you’ll have to ask someone else.”

  “A spy? No. Not a spy. We hold no allegiance but wisdom and truth.” The man glanced at his fellows. Several riders dressed just like him, about half as many armed and wearing wide brimmed hats.

  “Do wisdom and truth pay well?” Murray wasn’t sure what to make of these clowns.

  The man smiled a little. “Less than it should, as ever. May we approach? I’d be delighted to speak with the master of this place, though I will undoubtedly have questions for you later as well, fascinating creature that you are.”

  “Ooo. Flattery. Maybe you are a good spy.” Murray rubbed at his chin. “At any rate, I can’t let you in there armed. Gives the wrong message.”

  “Oh, certainly.” The man climbed down from his horse, seeming to need no additional clearance of permission, and nodded to his fellows. They dismounted as well. “Our weapons are something of a facade we acquired to see us here safely.”

  “Back to thinking you’re terrible spies again.”

  The man shrugged. “Real guards would not come at any price. They would part with their gear, though.”

  “Well, so will you if you want inside.” Murray stood as tall as he could and crossed his arms. “Just make a pile, then we’ll talk.”

  It was only when Cecil was lead into the throne room, aching feet and all, stupid stairs… that he understood his outfit. It was the same colors as the crown. Black with red details. Egerton picked the crown up with gentle reverence before setting it on Cecil’s head. “Now, the key here is to be careful what you say. In time, you’ll get the hang of only giving orders when you wish. Practice makes perfect, but we’re going for a sense of control here. I’d advise not saying much, sticking to yes and no answers, if at all possible. Nothing that sounds like an order.”

  “Right.” Cecil doubted he could do that. There was a reason he didn’t wear the thing around.

  Egerton moved to stand behind him. “Alright, open the doors.” He grumbled under his breath a bit. “Lets see how much damage Muireach has managed to do…”

  Cecil tried to stand tall and look intimidating as the doors crept open. He figured it was the best way to avoid being killed. If all they saw was a simple farmer, well… the cost of overthrowing him would be one arrow. It still was, really, he just had to convince them it was more.

  The parade of colorfully dressed bespectacled men was something of a surprise. Murry walked out front, a silly wide brimmed hat on his head and a curved sword at his side hanging from a belt draped across his chest from his shoulder. Probably the only way he could wear one. He didn’t exactly have hips. “Oh great and mighty Dark Lord.” He bowed.

  Cecil tried very hard not to roll his eyes. The last thing he needed was Egerton rubbing off on anyone.

  “These people here,” Murray waved to the group behind him, “are historians, apparently. You know, scholars. Bookworms. Nerds. That sort of thing.” He didn’t exactly sound like he approved. “They’ve come with tribute, too. Weapons and my nifty hat, as well as some boring stuff like gold or whatever.” He waved dismissively. “Supposedly they want to learn about you, and us, so they can chronicle it. Sounds incredibly dull if you ask me.”

  Egerton laid a hand on Cecil’s shoulder. He managed not to jump, but it was a near thing. “They may be infiltrators here to do harm, or simply enemy agents meant to keep tabs. However, if they are what they claim to be then we stand to gain. Word of our power getting out only benefits us. I advise giving them… limited access for now. A space we control. We’ll keep an eye on them and make sure they are not reporting to anyone.”

  Cecil didn’t need much of an excuse to have more living people around. The ratio was terribly skewed. “Sounds good.” He said aloud, toward Murray.

  Murray gave an exaggerated bow, which probably looked formal to anyone who didn’t know him very well. The brim of his silly hat almost touched the ground. “Excellent, my lord.”

  The man at the head of the group bowed as well. “Our thanks, most gracious lord. I look forward to adding your history to our records of the crown.”

  The crown in question was getting heavy, but that phrase got Cecil’s attention. His head jerked up. “You have records?”

  “Of course. Such a thing does not exist without someone taking note.”

  “I’d never heard of it. Nothing of the sort.”

  The man smiled. “The distant past is usually only recited amongst academics. Most believe such tales are fraudulent once enough time had passed. I admit even I had doubts. I never dreamed the fifth lord would appear in my lifetime.”

  “Fifth?” Cecil took a few steps closer. The way the man had said it… “Is there some significance to that?” Cecil looked aside at Egerton, who shrugged. The skeleton had mentioned other previous lords, but he hadn’t given a number.

  “Absolutely.” The man nodded. “Though the truly tumultuous times lie ahead, with the seventh dark lord. At least, so say the annals.”

  Well, at least there was that. Suited him just fine. Tumultuous was the last thing he wanted. “I’d like to know more, if you’re willing.” Knowing next to nothing had been getting him deeper and deeper into trouble. Maybe they could fix some of this, or at least slow the decline.

  The man bowed low. “We would be honored. To teach and to learn, the purpose of all those who seek knowledge.”

  Oh good, they had a motto. That helped.

  Egerton stepped in front of Cecil. “Very good. I believe we have a library that could use tending. Consider it the cost of your room and board. You might find more history there, though I’d be careful with it if I were you. Time is hard on fragile things.” His voice carried just a hint of an implied threat as his red eyes narrowed at the scholars. They were fragile to him. Time would destroy them like paper.

  Cecil really wasn’t looking forward to any future with this organization. But maybe these scholars could help… Murray didn’t know of any way to get out of being the Dark Lord, and it was doubtful Egerton had ever even entertained the notion, but these guys might know. And if not, maybe they could find out. They had the skill set for it. Hmm.

  “Show them to the library if you please, Lord Egerton.” Cecil gave him a nod, then lowered his voice. “I’d like you to keep an eye on them personally for the moment. Jut until you’re sure they’re not a threat. Take as many skeletons as you need.”

  Egerton nodded. “Understood my lord. I shall relay anything I discover.”

  “Excellent.” Cecil patted him on the… shoulder bones, before waving to the scholar out front. “I have a question or two more for you, first.” He cast a low whisper towar
ds Egerton. “Divide and conquer.”

  “Oh, indeed my lord.” Egerton nodded and stepped around him, waving at the gathered scholars. “Right this way, if you will. It’s a bit of walking, and there will be stairs, so lets try to pace ourselves. You don’t appear to be the most athletic gentlemen and I don’t need anyone tripping and falling down the stairs.”

  Murray nodded. “We’re not hiring at the moment. Maybe later.”

  The head scholar wandered over, Murray shadowing him, as Egerton left with the rest of them. He bowed low. “I am Kenley, my lord.”

  “Cecil.” He nodded. “No need for such formality. Only Egerton cares.”

  Kenley inclined his head a tad. “That does sound like the man history records. Strange to see him in the… flesh.”

  Murray chuckled.

  Kenley glanced aside at him. “Afraid I don’t know much about you, sir.”

  Murray sighed. “No, you wouldn’t. And your math sucks. Murray, formerly the fifth Dark Lord. Cecil is the sixth.”

  Kenley’s eyebrows crept up. “Ah, I see. An unknown element. That’s precisely what we’re here to uncover.”

  Murray’s red eyes narrowed. “It’s okay. You can pass out if you like. I saw your skin lose a few shades there. Yes, he’s number six. That still doesn’t mean seven is happening any time soon.”

  The scholar nodded. “You’re right, of course, Mr… Murray?” He had a little pad and a charcoal stub in his hands. Cecil hadn’t seen where he’d gotten it from.

  Murray shrugged. “That’s what I prefer. Egerton will tell you Muireach. Ugh. Always hated that. Sounds like anyone saying it is about to spit.”

  “A Gontish name. Fascinating.” Kenley made a note.

  Yet another place Cecil had never heard of. He missed his noisy farm house.

  “Yeah,” Murray nodded, “but get this: I’m from Aralone, or, I mean, I was.”

  “Aralone? Really?” Kenley’s scratching was starting to get annoying.

  Cecil rolled his eyes. “Shall I leave you two alone?”

  Kenley inclined his head. “Apologies. I was unaware of the… gap. I’ll rectify it later. You had questions?”

  “Yes.” Cecil leaned in close. “How do I get rid of this thing?” He pointed at the crown.

  Kenley’s eyes widened a bit. “Umm. Get rid of it?”

  “Yes. I want to not be Dark Lord, and yet I also don’t want to die and become a skeleton. No offense intended, Murray.”

  Murray shrugged. “I know your stance on all this. Your boring, cowardly stance.”

  Kenley flipped through his notebook. “Well that’s certainly a first…”

  “Good. Make a note of it. So, you got anything?”

  The scholar shook his head. “Afraid not. But… if that’s your wish, I suppose we could look into it. I mean, we’ll be around anyway for the sake of keeping accurate records. If I find anything of substance I’ll relay it to you.”

  Cecil pointed at Murray. “Him.” And then pointed at himself. “Or me. No one else. Absolutely not Egerton.”

  Kenley nodded. “Oh, I understand. He took such pride in being the Dark Lord in life, and apparently still does in death.”

  Murray nodded in turn. “The stuffiest of shirts.”

  Cecil shrugged. “I’m not him. I don’t want to rule anyone or anything. I’d like to go home to my farm.”

  “Huh.” Kenley tilted his head slightly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

  Cecil sighed. “You do that.”

  A bell sounded, rebounding through the stone halls, shaking dust from the walls.

  Kenley and Murray’s eyes swept around the room.

  Cecil rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Oh what now?”

  14

  As uncomfortable as the crown was, it didn’t seem like a time to be without it. He stalked across the floor toward the doors Murray and the scholars had used before.

  He hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

  Murray ran out ahead. “I’ll check it out.”

  Kenley followed close to Cecil. “Oh to see history being made…”

  Cecil rolled his eyes. “You’re weird.”

  “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, my lord.”

  “Cecil is fine. And you remembering didn’t keep me from becoming dark lord number six, now did it?”

  “Fair point.” Kenley nodded. “But that might be a touch of destiny.”

  “You can not tell me you think there’s anything good or noble about this thing.” He tapped the crown. “It make armies of skeletons.”

  “Just because no one has ever used it for anything but terrible deeds doesn’t mean you have to. Besides, it doesn’t make them. It raises them.”

  Cecil glared at the man.

  He shrugged. “Sorry. Wording is important where I come from, and it’s a solid point to keep in mind. If you need more skeletons you’ll have to go to a place where they already are. Just anywhere won’t do.”

  Murry appeared in the hallway ahead from a side passage. “Looks like more horses, boss.”

  It only now occurred to Cecil that Kenley was close enough to cause him harm, and he was entirely unprotected. But the fact that he was already angry about all of this nonsense, he hadn’t gotten any sleep, and his stomach was grumbling, pushed any fear at the situation way to the back of his mind. He narrowed his eyes at the scholar. “Friends of yours?”

  Kenley held up his empty hands about shoulder height. “All of mine are here. Though I suppose seeking mercenaries to safeguard our journey might have tipped some people off as to our destination and thusly your location. Maybe? If so, I’m terribly sorry.”

  Cecil grunted. “They already knew. They found the place yesterday.”

  “Oh, good. Well, not good, but I’m glad it wasn’t my fault. We heard the talk early yesterday ourselves. A relief. The paperwork involved if I had accidentally destroyed such an opportunity for learning. Ugh. I’d be drummed out for sure.”

  “Then keep your head down, and be glad you can.” He muttered. “Some of us can’t seem to.”

  They caught up to Murray, who lead them the last few yards to a balcony. They were about four stories up, give or take. Lower on some sides due to the continuing excavation.

  There was only one dust cloud in the distance. Unfortunately it was quite large. Cecil leaned on the railing of the balcony. “It’s all a blur to me.”

  Murray squinted his red eyes. “Riders. Few hundred. Shiny.”

  “Great. How long?”

  “Half hour, maybe? They have to follow the road and it’s kinda twisty and unstable. Like someone around here’s been digging a bunch of holes or something.”

  Footsteps in the hall behind them sounded before Lady Aldora appeared. She was dressed in a flowing black gown with a red shawl about her shoulders. It had a low neckline, and Cecil caught himself staring for a moment. He shook his head. Not a good time to be distracted.

  Egerton appeared a moment later from the other side of the door.

  Cecil turned his eyes back to the dust cloud. “Does anyone have any suggestions? Because it turns out I’m still a farmer.”

  Egerton straightened his silly coat. “We have many followers, my lord. But a few… encouraging words could get more up and about. Unfortunately if we lose any we have now, it will take that much longer to prepare for the next assault.”

  “How many are here waiting?”

  “In my day I had nearly ten thousand. I assume there are more now due to the passage of time.”

  Murray shrugged. “A few of those were crushed into powder with me. I can only assume others have suffered the same fate over the years.”

  Cecil glanced back over his shoulder. “But you’re still here.”

  Egerton scoffed. “Sadly. We, the former lords, are immortal. We can not be destroyed in any permanent fashion. Even if there was nothing left of him but shards and dust, his bones would find their way back together given time.”

  Murry glared at
Egerton. “Aww. I love you too, buddy.”

  Kenley was scribbling away. “Fascinating. I mean, there were theories, sure, but confirmation…”

  Egerton shaded his red eyes as he examined the cloud. “Best guess, they’re trying to frighten us.”

  Murray scoffed. “They’re doing a pretty good job.”

  Lady Aldora turned her attention to Cecil. “They will seek to test and unnerve you. If you fear them, they are that much closer to winning.”

  He shook his head. “Well they’re succeeding. Look, I agree with Egerton here. I don’t want a fight.” He still held onto the shreds of hope in his heart that he’d outlive this and get to go home when it was done. Having skeletons trample an army into paste would look bad at his inevitable trial. It just had to be a war crime of some sort.

  And that would only be made worse when the dead got back up to switch sides. Ugh. Then they’d get him on inciting desertion, too.

  Cecil adjusted the crown a little. “Everyone listen up. There are riders approaching. I want no hostile actions. None. Not one. Don’t attack them. Don’t approach them. If they approach you, just point them to the tower. Other than that, just… wait until you hear from me again.”

  He let out a little sigh.

  Murray and Egerton were standing at attention.

  He rolled his eyes. “Not you two.”

  Both lurched to life again.

  Murray grumbled. “Stupid crown.”

  Egerton stretched his shoulders a bit. “For once, I concur with Muireach.”

  “Sorry.” Cecil shrugged as he pulled the crown off.

  Lady Aldora laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t let it get too far. You shall have need of it shortly.”

  Cecil raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you have a plan? Because that would be nice.”

  A smile crept onto her lips. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

  The terrain had been green and hilly only days before. Now it was rocky and the dirt their horses trod upon was unsure. It slowed them considerably.