Wilmurin: Land of Darkness

by H. J. Cronin

  He was proud that Wilmurin was now under his control, from the farthest point in the north to the Fowling Jungle in the south. Wilmurin was his; not without deceit though, he had destroyed Shartak, the Black Widow’s home, slaughtered her soldiers and enslaved the people. The Black Widow was no longer a threat and was now trapped in Selarmus.

  As for the Clan of the Lizard, their demise had been their own doing. After Darkool had King Zethorn pledge his allegiance in his own city, Zenith, in the Fowling Jungle, the king was arrested by Darkool. Because King Zethorn had allowed Darkool’s army to enter the city, Darkool had enough men to take on the lizards. The treachery played out perfectly and the city, after a brief battle, was soon under the control of the Vandalore clan, its soldiers slaughtered and people enslaved. He ordered them to destroy the Fowling Jungle and all creatures within. Half the population died carrying out Darkool’s orders. Now the jungle was a charred, lifeless place, much like the rest of Wilmurin.

  King Zethorn was executed by hanging and now hung, alongside his soldiers, from the charred remains of the trees that once dominated the Fowling Jungle. The king had been foolish to barter with High Count Darkool and paid for it with his clan.

  Now there were no more clans other than the Clan of Vandalore. The northern clans, which consisted of the bears, panthers, and wolves, had been wiped out in the early stages of the war. The Black Widow had formed an alliance with the Vandalore clan long before Darkool had returned. The Light Tiger clan was also wiped out, this time by their closest kin, the Dark Tiger clan, who were also allied with the Vandalore clan. The dark tigers then also met a grizzly end when Darkool decided it was time to finish them off.

  Darkool’s war in the south dragged on far longer than the north; the Clan of the Lion, now vanquished, had proved to be a formidable foe. The battles were hard fought and the siege of Lerthayl was harder yet. The Clan of the Lizard provided the easiest victory. Darkool delivered his promise though and now there were no threats to his clan. His mind was troubled, though, with thoughts of Johan. Darkool had taken care of one Night Hunter and when Johan eventually confronted him the Night Hunters would all be gone; Darkool would then be invincible. Every possible place in Wilmurin where Johan might land a boat had been fortified. The Night Hunter would be found before he could get anywhere near High Count Darkool.

  Darkool’s plan was to wait for a confirmed report that Johan was dead and then set off for world domination. As he considered all this there came a sudden puff of dark green smoke in front of him, distracting him from his thoughts.

  Darkool smiled as a familiar being stepped out of the smoke. 'Shalon,' he said with a grin. 'Do say you have come here to tell me of the Night Hunter’s death.'

  Selarmus had indeed been a heavily fortified town. At the rear of the town, a once busy harbour had become quiet except for the clatter of metal boots on the wooden decking. A long beach ran parallel to the harbour; this was where the Black Widow decided to concentrate her forces.

  Trenches were dug at the top of a dike, where the beach met the blackened grass; archers made the trench their base. Sharpened stakes with long sharp tips were buried in the dike, waiting for any would-be enemy. Behind the trenches scores of skeletons stood motionless, facing out towards the sea.

  The town itself had been reinforced with fortifications throughout. Soldiers patrolled day and night; neither the Black Widow nor even Count Ulmar expected an attack – they followed Darkool’s orders just as any sane person would. Their main task was to capture Johan if or when he arrived. The Black Widow and her adopted daughter, Fern, stood with the count on the sandy dike and looked out over the sea. The salty air blew hard, allowing the women's long hair to flow; the count’s long white hair remained undisturbed, without the slightest movement.

  'What do we do now the fortifications are complete?' the Black Widow humbly asked the count.

  Count Ulmar stood silently for a moment. His hostile attitude since arriving at Selarmus hadn't changed one bit. The two had even come to blows over certain orders. The count was trying to take control of the Black Widow’s men, but Katrina would not allow it. She just hoped he would soon be gone.

  'He doesn't want to answer, Mother, because he doesn't know,' Fern said lightly.

  The count swung around and glared at her. 'Silence, girl, do not interfere in issues that are not for lesser people. I speak when I am ready and you speak when you are spoken to.'

  'I have already told you,' intervened the Black Widow, 'I will not have you talking to my daughter like that. If you have no further plans then we'll be on our way.'

  'One day, Widow,' started the count, with a sinister look on his face, 'one day I will tear out your heart from your chest and drink your blood.'

  'Come here and try to claim my heart, count,' offered Katrina. 'No? I thought not, you are a vampire under the shadow of an even greater vampire. You may have a title that calls you count but you are a mere slave to High Count Darkool’s will.'

  Count Ulmar looked at Katrina with anger in his eyes; his breathing had deepened and he snarled. He spoke in a bitter voice, 'Are you forgetting that you are also a slave, Katrina? Once you were the head of a powerful clan, like your mother before you, now you are a mere guardian of Selarmus, a port. You're even beneath me. I will revel on the day you die.'

  'It is better to rule a town then serve as a slave. I am no slave, I am the Black Widow, I am Katrina. This is my home now and you insult me,' she hissed. 'I will gladly risk my life to kill you and send your pathetic head to your master. The only thing stopping me is that Darkool would slaughter all who have sworn allegiance to me.'

  'You have said it yourself,' laughed Count Ulmar. 'You are at the mercy of High Count Darkool, any kind of action I perceive as threatening will be remembered. Your days are numbered, the moment High Count Darkool deems you useless. I will request to be the one who ends your miserable existence.' Count Ulmar glared at the women for a moment longer before storming off.

  The women watched, and as soon as he was out of earshot Fern spoke quietly, 'I share your desire to end his existence, Mother.'

  'A desire that may only remain a desire – such actions will mean the death of us,' whispered the Black Widow.

  'I just want to wipe that smug look off of his face,' Fern said, clenching her fist.

  'Fern,' the Black Widow said with a sigh, 'you don't seem to understand. Drastic action on our part will result in my clan ceasing to exist. My mother worked hard to build such a formidable clan, that clan is almost gone, with just us two and our troops here in Selarmus and Bruskany left.'

  'Well, what can we do?' asked Fern.

  'I had ambitious plans to overthrow High Count Darkool, but such ambitions would now be fruitless. I'm glad I didn't follow that path.' The Black Widow sat quietly for a while and then her eyes lit up. 'However, if we can't kill Count Ulmar, why not subdue him?'

  'Subdue?' Fern asked, intrigued.

  The Black Widow smiled, ‘Our most obvious weapons are our looks. If I can seduce the count then maybe we could bind him and lock him up. He only travels with two guards and his host of skeletons – we kill the guards so there are no witnesses, and the skeletons already follow my orders thanks to Count Ulmar ordering them to. With Ulmar locked up, we can quietly gain control of Selarmus without Darkool finding out. Power will be restored and then we can plot our future from there, all the while keeping High Count Darkool misinformed.'

  Fern smiled and clapped her hands together. 'A wonderful idea, Mother,' she exclaimed. 'What do you think such a future holds?'

  'I don't know,' shrugged the Black Widow. 'We betrayed the druids but I would have liked to align with Johan, should he ever return, and help overthrow Darkool. But I fear that Johan may already be dead and never return.'

  'We can hope you're wrong, Mother,' Fern said quietly. 'When shall we carry out your plan?'

  'Tonight,' the Black Widow said, looking out over the defences.

  Shalon approached his master and
bowed, 'Master, I have failed you. I was defeated.'

  High Count Darkool stared at him for a moment, giving away no emotion in his face. He then sat back, stroked his chin, and simply asked, 'What happened?'

  'The Eagle’s son has become a powerful mage, far more powerful than his father. His magic is far superior to any that anyone could imagine – he defeated me in combat.' Shalon described the confrontation in detail, then paused for a moment and said, 'Master, I saw Johan. He has acquired the filven, efforts must be increased to find him.'

  Darkool had sat quietly as Shalon told the tale; he waited for the lich king to finish before he replied. 'You know full well, Shalon, that you do not give me instructions. I am the one who makes the decisions. If this small band of druids comes for us then we are ready. Every single possible place they can land is fortified. I have troops everywhere. You will raise me even more skeletons to bolster my army. We will be ready for him and his friends. Wilmurin is now mine, Johan and even the Eagle’s son have no chance of even getting close to me. I also have troops looking for Bethegar, the last remaining druid on Wilmurin aside from the Black Widow. He is on his own and isn't much of a threat, so most of my resources will be spent on preparing for Johan. The moment he and his party land, they will be slaughtered.'

  Shalon nodded, 'I apologise for my insolence, master. What will you have me do now?'

  'Once Johan is dead I leave Wilmurin to invade the world – the whole world will be covered in darkness. I will need a substantial force. Gather half the slaves and order them to begin building a fleet of ships to travel the seas. Order the other half to begin constructing forts throughout Wilmurin, to be used as checkpoints. Our troops can watch over the land, looking out for this Night Hunter – when that is finished, I will kill the slaves.'

  'Yes, my master,' Shalon said, bowing.

  'As for you, Shalon,' Darkool said as Shalon turned to leave. 'I have a very important task for you.'

  Count Ulmar sat on his chair in the main hall of Selarmus, drinking a cup of blood, fresh from the body in front of him. A man had refused to join the militia and paid with his life – any excuse for the count to kill.

  A presence behind interrupted his pleasure, and he turned to see Fern standing behind him. She wore a red and black corset, her hair was loose, and, apart from long black boots, the corset was all she wore. Her breasts could be seen beneath the material and Count Ulmar choked on the blood at the sight.

  Fern pursed her red, lipstick-covered lips and smiled. Count Ulmar was speechless as he ogled Fern’s slender figure. 'What can I do for such a beautiful woman?' he asked.

  'My mother wants to make a peace offering. She says we must work together – so you can have both of us, at the same time,' she said, seductively.

  Count Ulmar gave her a peculiar look. 'I sense treachery – why the sudden change?'

  'If we are to work for you, we will do so on good terms. This is a peace offering, my mother is willing to submit to High Count Darkool. But,' she continued, turning around to walk away, 'if you're not interested in bedding my mother and me, it will be your loss, we will have peace with each other through words and nothing more.'

  Count Ulmar’s desire got the better of him; he rushed to his feet and called out to Fern, 'A great plan, I am glad you and the Black Widow have come around to the idea. I accept your invitation to bed. I will give you both a night you'll never forget.'

  'You will never forget this night, count,' Fern mumbled, beneath the count’s hearing.

  The pair walked through the corridors, Count Ulmar fantasising about the things he would do with the two beautiful women, especially every time he looked at Fern’s figure. The count’s two guards, who were to wait outside, flanked them. Count Ulmar liked to be protected.

  They arrived at the door to the Black Widow’s room, and Fern led the count in by his hand. A large bed filled a lavishly furnished room. The Black Widow was nowhere to be seen.

  'Where is she?' the count asked.

  'She’s on her way – meanwhile we can enjoy each other's company,' replied Fern, pulling the count in closer. She kissed him passionately and then pulled him to the bed, continuing to kiss him.

  The count was beginning to unfasten the corset when he heard a strange noise outside. Whilst lying on top of Fern he turned to the door, which slowly opened and the bodies of his guards fell to the floor. Two of the Black Widow’s men walked in. A furious Count Ulmar turned back to Fern to find a blade up against his throat.

  'You swine,' he said, spitting. 'When High Count Darkool hears of this rebellion, he will send his army to destroy you.'

  He heard a hiss behind him and turned to see a large black widow spider approaching him; the Black Widow hissed at her prey. The count was trapped.

  'We aren't going to kill you yet – this is a mutiny. Command of your troops and the northern towns now lies with the Black Widow clan. My mother will inject you with non-fatal venom that will incapacitate you,' Fern said, smirking.

  'You can't do this, this is treason against High Count Darkool,' warned the count.

  'Darkool is not our leader, the Black Widow is. You are now under arrest.'

  The Black Widow pounced on the count and dealt him a paralysing bite. The venom was so powerful it could paralyse a vampire, perhaps not one as powerful as Darkool, but Count Ulmar was not a problem.

  The Black Widow returned to human form and smiled at her adopted daughter. 'Well done, Fern, you have truly proved yourself worthy of being my daughter,' she said.

  'Thank you, Mother, but why don't we kill him?'

  The Black Widow sighed, 'I wish we could but we may have a use for him in the future. For now, he is to be locked in the dungeon. For the time being we must still behave as servants to Darkool, but whilst doing so we will train our army and rebuild the clan. Darkool will not destroy my family's legacy. One day we will strike back.'

  Fern smiled and clapped her hands, 'One day I trust it will be you sitting on the throne, Mother. What of this Johan?'

  The Black Widow shrugged, 'I am still considering my plan for him. He is needed to make the final blow against Darkool. When he comes we'll capture him and his companions and we'll make plans from there.'

  Fern nodded and smiled. 'At least we don't have to put up with him,' she said, looking down at Count Ulmar.

  'Indeed,' replied the Black Widow. ‘Let’s just hope we don't have to deal with his master.'

  Shalon stared at High Count Darkool, waiting for his instructions; he wondered in his cold mind what his master wanted from him. 'Master,' he said at last, 'what important task do you have for me?'

  Darkool answered quietly, 'Long ago, when I died, my soul travelled to the undying planes, a kind of limbo before the abyss. There I heard about a black crystal in the abyss that grants its owner unimaginable power. It's called the Defying Stone, because it defies its enemies. The Defying Stone will give me unimaginable power – judging from the stories, I would not even need an army to conquer the world.'

  'If such a stone exists, master,' said Shalon, 'how will we get it?'

  'You will travel to the abyss to find this stone. The half dead that wandered through limbo spoke of one of the nine demons guarding it – which one, I do not know.'

  'How do I get there?' asked Shalon.

  'You can send yourself there, you will have coin to pay the boat man. You're already dead, Shalon, all you have to do is will it and begin your journey. My journey to the limbo will have been different. I do not know the journey you must take but I know of the boat man and his fare. Old stories speak of a long and dangerous journey, you will find out for yourself,' Darkool said, looking his keen servant in the eye. 'Remember, though, if you perish in the abyss, you can't return to our world, you will be trapped there.'

  'Yes, my master. I will retrieve the Defying Stone,' Shalon said, bowing.

  'Good!' exclaimed Darkool. 'Move as soon as possible, time is against us.'

  Shalon nodded and with that he vanished.
Darkool hoped that Shalon would succeed. A part of him that he would never admit to felt that Shalon was the closest thing he had to a friend. Shalon was a servant first, though. Darkool could only imagine the kind of power he would have with the Defying Stone. He would be invincible.

  He smiled. 'Well, Johan, our paths will soon cross and, I promise you, I will kill you,' he said, as if Johan stood before him. Darkool sat back on his throne, waiting for news of Johan's arrival.

  Epilogue

  For six months, the Mjorn and the companions prepared for their upcoming voyage. Six thousand warriors, male and female, prepared and trained for battle. Parents taught children who were of age, and they trained hard.

  This was the largest force ever assembled by the Mjorn; local villages gave men and women willing to fight. The smithies were hard at work, constructing armour and weapons. The ship builders built the longships; each boat could escort one hundred men, and a serpent’s head was placed at the end of each ship. Large square sails of different colours would help the ships glide towards Wilmurin.

  Johan had practised with his filven sword and mastered the use of it. The Mjorn practised battlefield tactics that would suit a large army, rather than the tactics used in small battles they were used to. Each warrior had been given a spear and a sword or axe, according to their preference.

  The companions, along with Finnvid, Chief Folkmar, and a group of nobles sat at a table in the mead hall. 'Very well, now we're ready to go forward with our attack. Where do you suggest we land, Ardag?' asked the chief. The chief had decided to leave his eldest son, Thorkell and wife Arnora to look after the town when they embarked on their journey.