The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit)

by Nelson Chereta

  While he knew from his studies that the sun would not fall from the sky, he couldn’t help but have that impression. He also wondered if he would suddenly burst into flame or melt from the heat. (It never once occurred to him to remove his robes. They were a symbol of his status and he would sooner travel the whole way on hands and knees as go without them.) Those first few days were a misery. He was often under a clear blue sky with a bright sun overhead.

  It was just horrible.

  The world around him was much too bright. The land itself began to come to life the further he got from his home. First there were patches of straggly yellow grass poking out of the greyish brown soil. Occasionally there were a few shrubs and other vegetation within sight of the road. Once you left the Forge, Alteroth became a land of rolling hills and wide fields. Mile by mile the grass began to thicken and turn from brown or yellow to green. (He had used grasses and other plants in various potions. He was just not used to so many of them.) It grew on either side of the road as tall as his chest. When the wind blew he could see the grass bend and ripple.

  While the sight of all this vegetation did not bother him the way the blue sky and ball of fire did, he learned there were terrors hidden in those fields of green.

  One day, as he was just walking along, a horrible creature suddenly came hopping out of the grass right into the middle of the road in front of him. The small monstrosity stopped there, as if in challenge. It had wide eyes, a constantly twitching nose, and long deformed ears. It was the most disgusting thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Waldo stopped and pulled out his wand. He stood his ground and did his best not to show fear. Waldo glanced towards the tall grass on either side and wondered if a horde of these vile things might be hiding there, waiting to pounce on and devour him. He did not attack out of fear of angering the creature and possible others.

  At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the foul thing hopped away into the grass and vanished. Waldo took off running and hoped he would not encounter any more such revolting animals.

  There were odd sounds. Chirps and squawks and hoots and caws. The air itself was off, as it lacked the familiar scent of sulfur. Instead there were strange and exotic fragrances that made his eyes water.

  Even the night, which should have been comforting, was alien.

  There were tears in the darkness; the countless ‘stars’ which were the souls of distant and uncaring gods. His mother had mentioned a few times how beautiful the clear night sky was. Waldo found no beauty in the pinpricks of light. To him they ruined the comforting blackness. Along with the stars was a crescent moon shining down with a coppery sheen. After enduring the ball of fire it wasn’t so bad. He tried to sleep out in the open as best he could, but didn’t get much rest.

  He heard the various sounds coming from the high grass and imagined a horde of those monstrous long eared creatures just waiting for him to fall asleep.

  The next day he came across a company of undead skeletons marching lifelessly. Such patrols were common all along the borders and roads of Alteroth. Empty eye sockets turned to him, and skulls dipped in a sign of respect. They recognized him as a Dark Mage. Waldo was sorely tempted to take two or three of them with him. They were instructed to obey the orders of any Dark Mage they came across. The idea of a few undead corpses standing over him in the dark would have let him sleep much more peacefully.

  He didn’t, that would be against the rules for a First Quest, but he wanted to. Waldo walked along with them for as long as he could, before tiring and watching them shuffle too far ahead and out of sight.

  Mercifully, he began coming to the small villages that were scatters along the way. Most of the Seven Great Families resided in or near Alter, where political and financial power was concentrated. Few bothered to spend much time in the countryside. Here was where most of the population lived and where most of the food was grown. The landscape changed from wild grass to neat fields of wheat and barley and other crops. Across open hillsides he could spot flocks of what he assumed were sheep peacefully grazing. Most of the villages were no more than a dozen or a few dozen simple thatch huts clustered about a central Inn or Hall.

  In some of the larger villages and towns, there would be a mansion or master house, where one of the branch families would reside and act as local overseers. Waldo would have been able to call on them for hospitality, but the places he stopped at were too small.

  The villagers always looked at him with honest fear, and fell over themselves to bow and show respect.

  “I am a Corpselover.” He would say proudly and people would break into a fresh bows and proclaim how honored they were to have him staying in their village for the night. Waldo would take a meal at the Inn, spend the night in a decent bed and leave after a hearty breakfast with fresh bread, smoked mutton, and full water skins. All the while the people near him looked terrified.

  It made him feel right at home.

  In Alteroth only the seven families were allowed to own land. Everything belonged to them; and that included the people who lived in the countryside. The first village he stayed at happened to belong to the Poisondagger family. If Waldo had felt like murdering the villagers or taking them as slaves the cost to him would have been one silver rib per person. (Gold coins minted in Alteroth were skulls, silver coins were ribs, and copper coins were knuckles. The different nations gave their currencies various names, but all coins were minted to the same standards.)

  That was how much a peasant’s life was worth.

  The standard rate of exchange was twenty silver coins to one gold one. So Waldo could afford to kill or simply take two thousand people.

  The people of the countryside were not considered slaves, they were serfs. They were bound to the land and required to work it. They were not allowed to leave their villages without permission. They were not allowed to own the land. When they died they were usually not even permitted burial or cremation. They were not given ANY rights under the law.

  Still, they were much better off than the slaves who lived in the cities. For one thing, many were not under the eye of the families. They tended to live longer lives. They also enjoyed much more real freedom. Each fall they were expected to hand over half their crops and a certain percentage of their livestock. They were allowed to keep the remaining half to sustain themselves and to plant for the following spring. They could choose which crops to plant and how best to take care of their flocks and herds. They could marry whoever they wanted (within their village) and raise their families as they saw fit. So long as they produced the food Alteroth needed they were usually left alone.

  Of course, if a branch family resided in the village, or if a member of one of the families was passing through as Waldo was, they were completely subject to any whim. Refusing, or in any way harming a Dark Mage, would mean death for all of them. He could sleep with any girl who caught his eye or take anything he wanted. Waldo noted that whenever he stayed at one of the villages there was never a pretty young girl to be seen. The only women were too old or unattractive to be of interest.

  Waldo saw nothing wrong in any of this. He was used to looks of fear from those who served him. Even the slaves he’d been kind to had always looked at him in that way. To Waldo it was natural, nothing more or less than a sign of proper respect.

  XXX

  For three weeks he went north this way. Sleeping in a village Inn or Hall when he could, camping out under the stars when he had to. During the long hours of the day, he would study the map until all three stops were burned into his memory. There were just three ‘X’s’ in three cities. He had only Enver’s promise that there were Great Monsters waiting for him. What sort of monsters or under what circumstances they lived he had no clue.

  If they were real he would track them down. Waldo had a detection spell that would help with that. Along with memorizing the map he was using these hours to study his spellbook. His sister’s words had convinced him to go this way, but he was not certain what he would fi
nd. From what he’d heard and read, Lothas wasn’t a pleasant place for Dark Mages. It only made sense to be as well prepared as possible.

  As he traveled he imagined giants roaming about and vampires prowling hidden lairs. The closer he got to Lothas the more he tried to work out various scenarios for capturing these Great Monsters. Along with spells he was also going over the binding ritual that would make them his servants.

  The very first town marked on his map was a place called Stratford that was right on the border. If he really could capture a Great Monster right at the start things would be easier. That monster would help him capture the second and then he would have two of them capture the third. Then he would have three powerful creatures bound to him, he would quickly defeat the first knight he ran into and would have passed two of the conditions set for him.

  Simple.

  XXX

  At long last he reached the river Mainz that separated Alteroth from Lothas. It was fast flowing and about seventy yards wide. A single wooden bridge spanned it. As he approached it there was a merchant train of six wagons led by oxen crossing over to Alteroth. The Lothans hated his people, but not enough to decline their gold and silver. The merchants and the wagon drivers bowed their heads as they passed him, but did not slow down or call out greetings.

  When Waldo stepped onto that bridge he finally left Alteroth.

  On the other bank was Stratford, a good size city of perhaps ten thousand. Unlike the villages he’d visited where everyone lived in simple thatch huts the buildings across the river were of wood and brick and every one was brightly painted. Most of the walls were whitewashed and the slanted roofs were made of red and brown tiles. Some of the houses were deliberately painted bright colors to attract the eye; yellows, blues, reds.

  The effect was jarring to the eye, he didn’t see the point. Alter, which was his model for beauty, was a city built of black volcanic rock. From the castles down to the paving stones everything matched. The streets were all the same width and all ran perfectly straight. Every city block covered the same area and every building had the same rigid architecture. There were no twisting roads or confusing cul de sacs or dead ends. There were no vacant lots or buildings that stood out from their neighbors. Alter was a monument to order and to uniformity.

  Even from a distance Stratford’s buildings looked to have a bewildering assortment of sizes and styles as well as colors. It was as if people had deliberately decided not to make any two look exactly the same. Many of the houses were somewhat similar but one was slightly taller or wider or had a slightly different framing or had a steeper roof. Some of the houses were pressed right up against each other, others had yards between them and in still other places was nothing but empty ground that stood out like a gap in a row of teeth.

  To Waldo it spoke of poor planning and chaos. It might be interesting to look at but how could such a place even manage? Life here had to be pure anarchy.

  On the other end of the bridge was a guard house where a dozen soldiers wearing chain mail and carrying an assortment of swords and axes. Casually they stood around and watched him as he approached. Waldo was surprised at their lack of discipline and the way these common soldiers were looking straight into his face. Hadn’t anyone ever taught them how to show respect to a superior?

  As he came to the end of the bridge and set foot on the damp ground the oldest of the guards came shuffling up to him. He did not bow or bend his neck, but stood there and spoke as if the two of them were equals.

  “Welcome to Lothas stranger, all visitors are welcome here and free to do business. Just remember to follow our laws. We don’t put up with folk breaking them, especially foreigners.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Waldo asked feeling offended. He could not believe a commoner would talk to him this way. Even public slaves had better manners!

  The soldier looked him up and down. “I’m guessing you’re a black wizard, we’ve seen your kind before.” By his tone he might have been referring to cow droppings. “Don’t cause trouble or you’ll regret it. Now move along.”

  Waldo stood there for a moment in simple disbelief. Some ordinary soldier was giving him orders? There were so many things wrong with that he could not even count them all. He was tempted to explain to this man exactly who he was and the sort of respect he was due.

  The hostility of the other guards made Waldo change his mind. He was going to have to fight men like this, but he needed it to be on his own terms. Once he had a Great Monster bound to him he would be able to deal with rude idiots like this. First things first.

  He headed down the dirt road and into the city as the guards watched him go.

  XXX

  If the guards had been suspicious and rude the people were openly hostile. They stared and gawked at him and hurried to get clear of his path. A couple old women spat in his direction and made hand signs that he recognized as rudimentary curses.

  In an odd way he preferred this sort of treatment to how the guards had acted. The guards behavior had smelled of contempt, while these folk were obviously afraid of him. Mother had always said that fear was the best sort of respect. They were however sadly lacking in good manners. None of them bowed or bent their necks. Even the ones who spat and cursed him looked him brazenly in the eye.

  “What an uncivilized folk,” he muttered.

  Well he hadn’t come here for their company. Motioning his hands in a specific pattern he spoke one of the spells he’d memorized. The people stared as he did so and several fled. “Taranos evel monstri desu noratal est aki est avaratos.”

  When the detection spell was completed he was surprised to see four distinct targets appear. To his eyes there were now four sources of reddish light glowing. None of them were right at hand; two were to the north, one to the west, and one to the east. So there were four monsters living here. Most importantly the one to the east was giving off light akin to a bonfire whereas the other three were lamps.

  “Enver was actually telling the truth.” Waldo said. Up until this moment he had more than half expecting to find nothing, but it looked like his efforts were going to be rewarded. He turned in the direction of that beacon and began to head towards it.

  Behind him people were whispering to one another. Some ran off while a few followed behind Waldo.

  Chapter 5

  I Have Come To Make You Mine

  In the middle of the river Mainz was a small outcropping of bare rock about sixty yards long and twenty yards across at its widest. On it was a single building. An old foot bridge connected it to the rest of Stratford. The building was two stories high with a slanted roof and a dozen shuttered windows packed together up on the second floor. It was trimmed all in fiery red and had a wooden sign that depicted a snow white dove with black smudges on its wings.

  This was the Inn of Lost Sighs. It was a place where a man could enjoy a good meal or a drink or a woman’s warmth. The women who worked here and occupied the rooms up on the second floor were politely referred to as ‘Soiled Doves.’

  The less polite called them whores.

  It was not the only place of its sort in Stratford, but it was certainly the best known and most popular.

  The first floor was the common room. It had tables with wooden chairs as well as a bar that ran the length of the far wall. The kitchen entrance was located behind the bar. Here the customers would eat and drink and relax, and the women would sit and talk to them and try to separate them from their purses.

  On the side opposite from the bar was a set of stairs that led up to the second floor. Twelve doors led to twelve rooms; there was an open walkway with a railing so that everyone downstairs had a clear view of the upstairs. Men could peek up and see girls draped along the railing smiling and inviting them up. When a man went upstairs it was always to cheers and jealous shouts.

  Nancy Sanders was not surprised to see the place empty when she came downstairs. The only other person was the owner, Elsa, who was standing behind the bar. It was noon and they ha
d just opened. This was their slow time. Things would just start to pick up around sunset and they would be busy until the early morning. All the other girls were still in their rooms sleeping. They would get up some time in the afternoon and wander downstairs or simply stand by the railing on display. Elsa didn’t care, so long as everyone was working by the time things started to get busy.

  Nancy, seventeen and the youngest of the soiled doves, managed with less sleep and was more than happy to get first dibs on any straying customer that happened by. She was five foot tall with auburn hair and freckles, she had a small bust and short legs. The customers found her cute and friendly and she did well enough at her work. Nancy knew how to please and how to get a man’s attention. She’d put on a long skirt that was slit down one side to show off her smooth legs. She had a lacey top that revealed her belly as well as her shoulders. Outside the Inn women didn’t reveal more than their ankles. A lot of men got excited just at seeing so much of a woman’s body. She had also colored her face with blush and painted her lips. Outside the Inn that too was frowned upon.