The Dark Lord Cecil

by Wade Adrian

  Murray and Egerton were deployed to lead the force, but Cecil wasn’t fool enough to be out there in it. He was no warrior, and he knew as much. The one man she had ever met that actually understood his limitations.

  Sad that she had to kill him.

  She had been checking every room as she climbed the tower. She was practically back at the top. Her own quarters were as abandoned as the rest.

  Had he left with the scholars? Oh, that would have been quite clever. Too clever for him. They could claim neutrality and move freely most places, but him in their midst would have put them at risk. He wouldn’t do that. He was too kind.

  She wandered into his quarters, one floor up. Her feet were starting to hurt… she hadn’t climbed the stairs so swiftly before.

  This floor seemed deserted as well. She sighed as she wandered from room to room, carefully glancing around. “Cecil?”

  Hmm. She picked up a few bits of gold lying around and pocketed them. If all else failed, she could walk away richer than she walked in.

  She glared at the stairs leading up as she left the chambers. Stairs were quickly becoming annoying. But… if he was going to be somewhere for the sake of commanding an army that could hear him from anywhere, the highest vantage point would be wise. He could keep a sharp eye on all the changes and adjust to them.

  The large chamber at the top of the tower was still open to the sky in many places. It had windows all the way around, as well as a significant hole in the roof. Supposedly there had been a well up there, and this room was where he had found the crown.

  Well, there was no crown here now. And no Cecil, either. She shook her head as she wandered to the large window facing the battle.

  It was a mess down there. He was trying to lose, but it didn’t surprise her in the least that he was failing. He didn’t know how to command well enough to feint or mislead.

  She could see Gomer hadn’t committed his entire force, he had roughly a third of his men trying to round up the scattered horses. They were making headway, but his men pressing the line were not. Perhaps he hoped a cavalry charge could make all the difference. He was, after all, a cavalry commander. When one only has a hammer, every problem begins to look like a nail.

  Redding’s forces, meanwhile, where in shambles. Clearly his less equipped and less disciplined mercenary force wasn’t up for skeleton fights, but really, when would they have had opportunity or reason to train for it?

  She surveyed the field. Cecil was in command, he had to be observing. The ruins might conceal him, or the tree line, or perhaps…

  Aldora blinked a few times.

  He was sitting on a hill, in plain sight. Alone, but for a handful of skeletons that were far enough a fight could be lost before they got there, if he had time to call them at all.

  She sighed. Sure, it made her job easier, but at the same time it was kind of insulting. “Did I teach you nothing?” She groaned as she started back toward the stupid stairs.

  32

  A quick slash laid bare the interior of the tent. Murray could have used the front, true, but he’d opted to ruin Redding’s stuff as a matter of honor. Or pride. Or whatever. Guy deserved to have his toys broken.

  He waved with the sword, and the scholar ducked into the tent. Murray followed on his heels. He didn’t want to give the man time to find something to hit him with.

  The interior was dark, but for light coming in through the new door. The scholar was glancing around, groping at the dark. He almost tripped.

  A box. A pile of boxes.

  Murray pointed at it with his sword. “Open ‘em.”

  The scholar didn’t have any trouble at all. He held up a hand over his mouth.

  Egerton sighed. “Thank the Dark Lord.”

  “Umm…” Murray tilted his head a bit. “Are we missing one?”

  The scholar shifted the boxes back and forth. “There are no more.”

  Murray tossed Egerton’s skull at the largest box while he stepped closer to the scholar, sword pressed ever so gently against his chest.

  It took Egerton a few moments, but he managed to put himself together… mostly. He was shy a leg, and as he had assumed, his coat was missing a sleeve. He grumbled as Murray helped him up.

  “Congratulations, scholar.” Murray lent a shoulder so Egerton could hop that way. “You’re a crutch for now.”

  The scholar sighed. “I’m not supposed to get involved.”

  Egerton glared at him. “Bit late for that. You are the one that brought the wine, in one of these boxes.”

  The little man cringed and shrank. “He said I had to help him. He threatened to kill me.”

  Egerton leaned close. “Death is so easy… I can think of much worse things.”

  Murray opened the tent. “Yeah, I threatened him some too. We’ll have more time for that later. Right now we need to get control of this situation again. We’ll find your leg when this is done.”

  The scholar’s balance shifted when Egerton grabbed him. He still had his breastplate on. “Well then, giddy up.”

  Murray glanced up at the hill. “Boss? You there?”

  There was no reply.

  Murray stepped outside and whistled. His horse wandered up, shaking its head and giving a whinny. Once the scholar made it out, Murray steadied Egerton as he climbed up into the saddle. “Should give you some more mobility.”

  Egerton nodded a few times. “I… thank you, Murray.”

  “Murray?” Murray tilted his head.

  “I can’t explain what it was like, but… rest assured, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I am grateful you came to my aid.”

  “Of course. Same team, right?”

  “Yes. Certainly.”

  Well, they were on the same team now. He held his sword up. “You’ll need the reach, and you’re the more experienced commander.”

  Egerton scoffed as he took the sword. “Didn’t keep me from charging in like a fool.”

  “Nobody’s perfect. Also I rather enjoyed that part.”

  “Hmm.” Egerton kicked the horse with his foot, not needing the reins at all to get it to obey. He raised his voice and Murray’s sword. “Reform this line you sons of mangy curs! Get in line or I’ll find a dog to feed you to!” He swung the sword, knocking the head off of a skeleton running by. The rest took notice and moved to comply, letting go of soldiers they were grappling, dropping things they’d looted, and letting their various quarries escape before turning and moving back toward the central position they had come from.

  Murray grabbed the shoulder of the little scholar. He had been slinking away with all the speed and tenacity of a snail. “You, bookworm, need to make yourself scarce. You did us a good turn, so I’m going to let you run. If I see you again, though… well, I’ll let Egerton decide what to do with you, and you had his head in a box.”

  Egerton’s narrowed eyes fell on the scholar, who gulped before nodding and bolting away.

  “Hmph.” The skeleton scoffed from his horse. “I would not have been so lenient.”

  “No doubt.” Murray shrugged. “Not our mission. Besides, his very existence answers some questions. Now we know where Redding got his information. If the scholar bails on him, he at least looses that.”

  “Not that it matters.” Egerton surveyed the camp. “Damage done, I’d say.”

  “Haven’t seen the man himself yet. He’s bound to be around somewhere.”

  Egerton nodded curtly. “Very well, back to the front, the lot of you!” He waved his sword high and pointed at the line of Gomer’s men. “One force down, one to go!”

  The order kind of made sense. Sure, they hadn’t exactly wiped this camp out, but if they didn’t stay most of its inhabitants would probably run off rather than stand and fight. People were big on surviving when they could. The gap in their leadership would only add to that.

  Murray held up a table leg someone had dropped. “Hey, Egerton!”

  The other skeleton looked down at him with narrowed eyes. “No.”


  “What? I was just… Oh! You thought I meant… ha! No. Heh… lets go hit stuff.” He swung the table leg a few times.

  “Quite.”

  General Gomer watched the field shift from atop his mount. He still had fewer horses than he liked, but a cavalry force was quickly putting itself together. Soon they would ride down upon these creatures and the day would be his.

  Sadly, there wasn’t much left of the Rojo force. Well, the mercenary force from Rojo. They didn’t carry official livery, though they bore the colors.

  Redding had quite the reputation, though.

  No matter. Men fought monsters this day, and men would stand victorious.

  Speaking of Redding… he could swear the man and his silly black armor was wandering away from the fight. He had a small detachment with him as he moved on foot, knocking down only the skeletons that approached him. They were making a bee line for something, what could have so trapped his interest that he would let his men die in his place? Well, given it was Redding, anything from a pretty young lass to an interesting cloud might be more important. He wasn’t the most beloved commander.

  Gomer shifted in his saddle and shaded his eyes. He didn’t see anything over there that… wait. Who was that on the hill?

  No…

  He turned his horse hard, yelling for his second. “When the cavalry force is ready, make a path and send them up the middle.” He waved at a handful of fighters at the rear of his formation. “You men, with me!” He took off after Redding, not waiting to see if they followed.

  Everything seemed… wrong about this. The skeletal force was greater, but had barely pressed his line. They hadn’t destroyed Redding’s force either, only scattered them. The Dark Lord was flexing a muscle, and wanted a lot of witnesses to spread word of his strength… but it was still better than Redding getting his hands on the crown. He wouldn’t care to be strong in the eyes of the world, he’d just kill them all and take whatever he pleased.

  Cecil rubbed at his chin.

  Things… were improving. It looked like the skeletons were abandoning Redding’s camp in favor of moving back to the conflict with Gomer. Well, one down, anyway. Not that any were supposed to go down. They might regroup. Redding certainly wouldn’t go down easy. There was almost no chance he was dead, not unless one of his people had done it. He wouldn’t have left, either. His pride had practically been a physical thing in the room when he had met with Cecil.

  He set the crown back on his head. “How’s it going?”

  “Ugh. Boss, that isn’t at all how a battlefield commander talks.”

  Egerton’s voice echoed much stronger now. “I find myself in agreement with my compatriot. We should have worked on the lingo ahead of time. I take full responsibility for this failing, my lord.”

  Cecil’s eyebrow crept up. “Well, you’re sounding a lot better.”

  Murray’s voice still seemed… louder. “Yeah, he’s good. Bit of a limp.”

  Egerton, however, sounded much more annoyed. “Nothing to concern yourself with, my lord. We have taken the Rojo camp, though we are presently departing it to return our full strength to the field.”

  “Great.” Cecil nodded as he watched. “Once that’s done, let them wail on you for awhile, then fall down. This might work out in our favor if enough of the Rojo guys are left standing for Gomer’s people to look all heroic coming to heir rescue.”

  “Yes, quite.” Egerton didn’t approve of this plan. He never had. “In the future we should look into less dangerous and expensive ways to make diplomatic inroads. There are several.”

  “Uh-huh.” Murray’s voice still seemed louder somehow. Hearing them through the crown was strange, their voices wafting in and out slightly. “I like bribery. Oh, and assassination. Really keeps the body count down.”

  “Until it backfires and starts a war. Which it does about half the time.”

  “Then you assassinate a few generals.”

  “I’d like to point out that you and I presently hold those positions.”

  “Right… okay, bad example. No assassins.”

  Cecil rolled his eyes. “Keep at it. I’m still trying to figure out how to get away from this myself.”

  “I still say to put the crown on a skeleton and sneak away. They can’t use it if you’re alive, boss. We can always recover it later.”

  “They’ve both seen me in the flesh. Why would they assume I’m a skeleton all of a sudden?”

  “They don’t know anything about the crown. They might look, but if they don’t find you they’ll assume they got you.”

  Cecil had ignored the idea when Murray had brought it up that morning, but he really didn’t have anything better. “Maybe.”

  “Put you’re silly armor on the bones and you’re golden.”

  Egerton grunted. “The idea has merit. The pair of us could also verbally imply the skeleton they found was you, though our disappearance once you are presumed dead would most likely be more convincing.”

  “Oooh, or when the fight is over we start screaming about feeling you die from here. Sort of plant the idea in their heads.”

  Cecil stared at the scene for a moment. Murray was having entirely too much fun, which wasn’t fair at all since Cecil’s nerves were shot. “Right. Assume that’s the plan, then. Let them roll over you. I’ll start staging the scene here.”

  “Very good, my lord.” Egerton sounded much more reserved, as always.

  “Glad to have you back, Egerton.”

  “Good to be back.”

  Murray scoffed. “He was only gone a few minutes.”

  “It felt like days.”

  “Fair, I suppose. Not like we’re great with time anyway. It all feels kind of samey.”

  Cecil shook his head as he stood up and dusted off his legs. “Alright, getting to work. You guys get things done on your end. We’ll meet up after east of Hearthshire. Murray knows the place.”

  “Understood.”

  He plucked the crown from his head and unbuckled the breastplate he wore. The armor hit the ground with a thud, taking the silly cape with it. He wandered a few steps towards the little skeleton retinue he hadn’t been able to ditch. The dirt on the hill was quite loose on that side, so he tried to keep his eyes on his feet as he slid. It wasn’t exactly easy, but he managed to keep the crown in hand. “Okay, who wants to play king for a day?”

  Cecil stared at the fight he didn’t have any idea had gotten so close. A handful of men in Redding’s colors were struggling to climb the hill, but the skeletons were keeping them at bay. Several of the men were on the ground, but more than a few broken piles of bones said they weren’t exactly losing.

  Redding himself looked up from behind his little line, smiling at Cecil as he raised his hand. “Ooo, ooo, pick me. Pick me!”

  “Oh shucks.”

  33

  Cecil turned and scrambled up the hill, though the loose dirt and rocks kept him from making much progress. “Should have given them a bell or something…”

  Redding held up his sword. “We’ve been spotted gents, time to stop playing around.”

  The fight kept on much as it had been, a back and forth.

  “I said stop playing around!”

  A skeleton smacked Redding in the face. He glared at it before swinging his sword, which cut clean through its shoulder bone and a few others. His face turned into a stupid grin before the skeleton punched him again, with the arm that a living man wouldn’t be able to use.

  He tried to yank the sword free, but it was stuck in the ribcage. He grunted and rubbed at his chin as he kicked the skeleton away. “I hate magic.”

  Cecil had almost made it back to the top of the hill, grabbing at rocks and roots as he climbed. It had seemed so much easier the first time… but he hadn’t been fighting for his life, then.

  “Sorry gents, no time for this.”

  Cecil glanced back over his shoulder as he clutched at a root to see Redding charge headlong through the line, ignoring his own men, tw
o of whom he knocked to the ground, and kicking skeletons out of his way as well.

  He charged up the hill after Cecil, though his heavy metal boots didn’t help him out much in the loose dirt and rocks.

  “Eee!” Cecil scrambled the last few feet, fearing for his life but also just a tiny bit happy that all the dirt he was kicking free was going to hit Redding in the face.

  Maybe he’d finally lost it. The last few days certainly hadn’t made hanging onto his sanity easy. There hadn’t been a day when he’d woken up and thought, “Oh, good, everything is just as I left it.” It was always more of a silent scream or groan in his head.

  Once he made it to the top and got his feet under him, Cecil plopped the crown on his head. “Murray! Egerton! Redding is here! He’s almost up the hill!.”

  “What?” Murray’s voice might have held the first shock and alarm Cecil had ever heard from him. “Since when?”

  “Does that matter? He’s here!”

  Egerton’s voice drowned everything else out. “We’re on the way, my lord.”

  “Great.” Cecil sighed. “Good. Make it quick.”

  All the sounds in his head stopped in an instant, the fighting and wind atop the hill all he could hear. It was a bit shocking. Almost as shocking as falling forward to land in the dirt and sparse vegetation atop the hill.

  The weight of the crown he had grown rather accustomed to was simply gone. His hand hit the sword at his side, and he yanked it free as he rolled over and hopped to his feet.

  Redding was standing just behind where he had been, the crown in his hands. “And just like that, you lose.”

  Cecil was under no illusions here. The man was right. With the crown he could have called all the skeletons back, swarmed the hill. Without it, the only ones close enough to hear him were already fighting on his behalf.

  He held up his sword, though. He didn’t know what was special enough about it to get it brought to this place, but all the other relics had been carted here to fight Dark Lords. This one must have something going on. He leveled it at Redding. “Only one of us is armed, and it’s not you.”

  Redding’s eyebrow crept up. “Isn’t it?” He turned the crown a bit. “This is a far greater weapon. Pity it won’t work while you’re alive. It would have been so much more fun to watch you torn limb from limb by your own creations.” He shrugged. “Oh well, right? Guess this is yours then.”