by M. K. Gibson
Petulant child.
But he was still a client. “No, Baron. It’s because working in mysterious and dark places is what I do. I find out things that others do not know. And I use that information for my benefit. For example, did you know that the Elder River village is built upon the ruins of an ancient civilization?”
“No?”
“Indeed. And that civilization was once called The Eld. Or, the First Men of the Elder Race. They were the people who crossed over from the Land Beyond into your realm of Caledon. They settled in the rich and fertile basin of the Elder River. They were the ones who dominated the existing population and taught them mathematics, science, and technology. A new age of prosperity rose. Well, until the powers that be turned on them, fearful of their science over magic.”
“You are referring to The Rift. The war of magic and science between man and elf that shaped the land. That was over a thousand of years ago,” Grimskull said.
I nodded. “Exactly. People believe The Eld were all killed off. After all, magic won. But what if several members of the The Eld High Tower were secreted away. What if members of their royal lineage survived? And hundreds and hundreds of years later, some of their descendants returned to their ancestral home to begin again. This time, in a simple life. Keeping their love of science hidden over the generations, lest they ever be discovered and destroyed again.”
“So . . . my concubine Greta?”
“A descended royal princess of The Eld.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Exactly, Baron. So, here’s the new plan. You keep the Amulet of the Ember Soul in your castle. You keep it on you at all times. If someone comes for it, they will need to infiltrate your keep and confront you directly. If you leave your keep, you will take a regiment of armed guards with you, everywhere. You will now create a new squad of soldiers whose sole purpose is protecting you and that amulet. These soldier will be well paid and given benefits above all others. You will ensure that being one of your elite guard is something all within your domain should seek to become.”
“Well . . . paid?”
“Yes, well paid. As with the rest of your staff.”
“I have indentured servants,” Grimskull sniffed, “not staff.”
“Not anymore,” I said, shaking my head and pointing at the baron. “Now, you have a paid workforce. You will do everything in your power to make your staff love you and never betray you.”
“Is all this . . . necessary?”
“How many times have you had an assassination attempt against you? A direct attack? Someone poisoning your food?”
“Hmm.” The baron considered the question. “It does seem to happen a lot.”
Of course it does. Fantasy worlds are nothing if not predictable. “Yes, Baron, they do. Because your people hate you and wish to see you dead. That is why we are going to change your image.”
“But I am Baron Viktor Grimskull! All serve me! All bend their knee to my will! Those who oppose me die!”
“Which is why everyone is trying to kill you. You will still be Baron Grimskull, ruler of the Eastern Empire. But with a few modifications.”
“Modifications?”
“Yes.”
“Such as?”
“Other than a staff of well paid and fairly treated employed servants? Well, off the top of my head, you will also need an armed and trained standing army made up of loyal soldiers.”
“What about my recruitment drives?”
“Are you referring to the purging of the villages wherein you abscond with formidable fighting men and child soldiers?” I asked.
“Naturally.”
“Gone,” I stated flatly.
“What?!”
“Next come your taxes and tariffs.”
“What are those?”
“What you should be doing to the people of the Eastern Empire. Instead of taking what you want, you will impose a fair tax to generate revenue.”
“Your words confuse and anger me,” Grimskull said, narrowing his eyes.
Ignoring him, I continued. “You will use a portion of the revenue you receive to put back in to the empire’s infrastructure for road maintenance, houses for healing the sick, and schools for educating the masses.”
“OK, that is enough of that!” the baron declared, standing and pointing his finger at me. “You claim to be the master villain? The darkest of us all? Yet you advise benevolence, education, and . . . fair taxation? This audience is ended. I demand to be returned to my realm, immediately!”
Chapter Three
Where I Discuss Politics, Ex-Wives, and Have a Visit from my Sister
I said nothing at first. I watched the baron calmly with my elbows on my desk and my hands steepled under my chin. The baron held his pose, pointing at me, waiting for a reaction. When I gave him none, I saw his arm begin to tremble from holding the “intimidating” pose.
I leaned back slowly and then lit another black cigarette with a silver tip and waited. This was a mental pissing contest. A game of chicken, if you will. And I did not get to where I was by flinching first.
“I mean it!” Grimskull said, breaking the silence. “I demand to be returned.”
“Fine. You may go.” I waved in dismissal.
Calmly I placed my cigarette in the glass ashtray’s cradle and began shuffling a few papers on my desk. Grimskull turned to leave.
“It’s a shame. You may have been even greater than Countess Skullgrim,” I said.
The baron stopped. “What did you say?”
One of the many sub-rules of villainy: Everyone has a rival. Discover it and exploit it.
In this case, Baron Viktor Grimskull had a longstanding hate-hate relationship with Countess Elsbeth Skullgrim, Empress of the Western Empire. But what did you expect from ex-wives?
“The Countess Skullgrim. The Power of the West, as I hear she is called these days. You could have been even more infamous than she. But you know what is best for your dwindling empire. Good day, Baron.”
The baron stood there thinking. It did not take a psychic, even though I had several in my employ, to know what he was thinking. Was I bluffing? Was I using a trick to get him to come back? Baron Grimskull was at a crossroads. If he came back to the table, he may be perceived as weak. If he left, then he would be foolish.
Decisions, decisions.
Grimskull, his back straight, walked back to my desk and sat down, trying to make it appear that it was his decision.
“What do you know of Countess Skullgrim?”
“Everything,” I said, picking my cigarette back up. “I was the one who organized her empire to rival yours.”
If looks could kill, I would have been nothing but pink mist along my office walls.
“You . . . what?!”
“Don’t look so shocked, Baron. When you divorced your wife all those years ago, she fled your lands with nothing but the clothes on her back and a title that was worth nothing without people to follow her. So, I found her, cultivated her, set her up as the Countess Skullgrim and put her on the throne she is on. But now, I have chosen to assist you these last few months.”
“Why?”
“Simple. She no longer needs me. And I no longer have her income. So that brings me to you. What you see as weakness in my plan to brighten the shit-hole you call an empire is, in fact, brilliance. Yet you choose not to see it.”
“Enlighten me,” the baron said, watching me with wary eyes.
“Let me ask you, Baron. Is it better to be feared or loved?”
“Feared, of course.”
“A foolish answer,” I said, not caring about the baron’s ire. I held up a hand, stalling his building tirade. “The answer is loved. A man who serves you out of fear will do so, as your empire does now, until the day comes when they can let you die or rise up against you. That is why there are so many attacks against your life. But . . .” I trailed off.
“But what?” Grimskull asked. Obviously this line of reasoning never occurred to him.
Just like the idea hadn’t occurred to Countess Skullgrim when I’d pitched it to her.
“But a land that loves its ruler will die for him, or her, willingly. They will throw their bodies on the machines of war in the hopes that their blood slows, or stops, the threat against their beloved ruler. And while they love you, you will take what you want from them as they sit fat, happy, and content. Give them games. Give them fair wages and reasonable taxes and they will sing your name. The poor are dangerous, for they have nothing to live for. Those with more, a middle class if you will, are easily fooled provided you give them something else to hold their attention. And while you give them things like literacy, alcohol, public games, sex, and the illusion of free commerce, they will do nothing more than claim you are the greatest ruler of them all, defending you while you rob them blind. All you have to do is reap the benefit of a blind populace who are too occupied with their own boring lives. That, my Baron Grimskull, is villainy. Let others die for you and pay you while they do.”
After finishing my little speech, I stood up and poured two tumblers full of a nice spiced wine from a favorite dimension of mine. I offered Grimskull one of the heavy glass tumblers and held my drink out.
“What do you say, Baron?”
“How do you know this will work?” he asked. A fair question.
I winked at him. “Because I’ve done it before. The Western Empire, all of Countess Skullgrim’s lands, are thought of as the cradle of civilization in your world. Why is that?”
“Because she bewitched her people with her magic.”
“No magic at all, Baron. False democracy. Let the people believe they have a say in how the country is ruled and they will flock to your lands. Trust me, where I come from, it is an everyday occurrence.”
The baron looked at me for a moment or two, and then we clinked glasses. “So be it. We shall try it your way.”
I noted that the baron did not drink his wine first. I smiled and sipped at mine, keeping my eyes on him. When the Baron was satisfied I was not trying to poison him, he drank the contents of his tumbler as well.
“It is settled then. Courtney will escort you back to the rift-gate to where your world’s escort is waiting. As far as they are concerned, you have been gone mere seconds. I will start the arrangements.”
“No,” the baron said.
“No?”
“If you want to change my lands and take my gold for it, you will oversee this yourself. I want you close if things go wrong. In your world, you are the god. In mine—well, you will be my guest.”
The baron was not truly stupid. I knew this. I shrugged. “Why not? It has been a while since I’ve done any field work. I will be in your lands within the week. Do we have a deal, Baron?”
“We have a deal.”
The baron turned and left my office, with Courtney on his heels. I sat back down at my desk and began preparing my ledger, outlining the plan and the supplies I would need.
“Sir, you have a visitor,” Sophia’s voice said over the intercom.
I pressed the intercom. “I am a little busy right now, Sophia.”
“Sir . . . it’s your sister.”
Shit.
Of all the dark and twisted things in all the realms across the known and unknown universe, my sister was by far the most sinister and hateful thing ever created.
“And she brought your nephew,” Sophia amended.
I stand corrected.
Chapter Four
Where I Entertain Bad People, Worse Ideas, and Give My Nephew a Job
“Julie!” My sister, Paige, called out in her obnoxiously high-pitched warble as she burst into my office. “Oh Julie, you never come to visit anymore! Figures I would have to come . . . here to see my baby brother.”
I hated when she called me that.
“Mr. Blackwell, I’m so sorry, she just barged in past me despite my telling her you were occupied,” Sophia said as she chased after my sister. The chase wouldn’t be too long; it appeared that Paige was once again off her latest fad diet. I could smell the fast food grease and the diet Coke before she wrapped me up in her massive arms for a hug.
“Julie?” Grimskull asked.
Damn it. I thought he had left already through the office portal.
“Oh hello!” Paige said, turning to the baron, releasing me. My suit now reeked of curly fries. “Aren’t you terribly frightening?”
Paige pushed past Courtney, who made a move to block her path, but I waved him off. Courtney did not possess empathy for human life. The suffering of others was simply a part of his job. As much as I would have loved to see him perform acts of violence on my sister, I had promised our parents that I would look after her—a promise she abused as often as possible. If she were here, there was no doubt she was out of money already.
“A pleasure to meet you, m’lady,” the baron said as he took my sister’s garishly lacquered, corpulent hoof of a hand and kissed it. “I am Baron Viktor Grimskull, Lord of the Eastern Empire. Who may you be? And, if I may I ask, why did you call Mr. Blackwell ‘Julie’?”
Paige blushed. “I am Paige Blackwell, Julian’s big sister. And I’ve been calling him Julie since we were kids. Isn’t that right, Julie?”
“I call myself Jackson now, Paige. As you are well aware,” I said, attempting to maintain my composure.
“Jackson? Really? Your middle name? You know that was just Mom’s maiden name.”
“I am aware. I am also aware that Julian was not the most popular of names while growing up. Hence, Jackson. Now Paige, I assume you want something. Please allow the baron and I to conclude our business, as he was just leaving. I will see to you momentarily.”
I raised an eyebrow and willed the gate to Grimskull’s realm to open wider. My realm responded to my will and the gate emitted a powerful, pulsating light, a reflection of my growing temper.
“Nonsense, Julie,” Paige said as she waved her hand, and the gate shut down immediately.
“You have dominance over this place as well?” Grimskull asked.
“Of course!” Paige exclaimed. “He may be a god here, but as his sister, that technically makes me a goddess!”
“Indeed you are, m’lady.”
“Oh, aren’t you a charmer.” Paige blushed. If Grimskull weren’t careful he would find himself in the trailer park, one hundred pounds overweight and dead from a heart attack like her last two husbands.
“Paige, the baron needs to return to his realm. Now.”
“Lighten up, Julie. You haven’t even said hello to your nephew!”
Nephew. Damn it. I’d momentarily forgotten.
I turned my attention from the baron and my sister flirting to the wasteful lump of flesh reclined on my office’s leather sofa with his feet on the armrests. His expensive headphones were on, which meant he was lost to a sea of wretched music as he stared intently at his new smartphone.
I steeled myself.
“Hello Randy,” I said as I scanned the room for missing items that my felonious nephew might have crammed into his oversized jeans. Beneath the mop of unkempt, greasy hair and hoodie, the 23-year-old man-child ignored me.
Seriously—Randy. Who names their child Randy anymore?
“Hello Randy,” I repeated, my voice growing in power.
Randy showed a moment of cognitive capability as he looked briefly up at me, then back to his smartphone. “’Sup dude.”
’Sup...dude? The paltry words of the hack Shakespeare should be stricken from the annals of history, for my nephew Randy redefined eloquence in only two syllables.
“Welcome, Randy. I trust nothing of mine has found its way into your possession . . . again.”
“What’s your wifi password, dude?” Randy asked, not looking up.
Looking at Randy, I could hardly believe he was of my blood. At 17 I had already made my first million in fenced gold and illegal magical items sales. Randy, on the other hand, dropped out of community college, lived with his mother, ate half-frozen microwave mea
ls, and masturbated to bland internet porn. He steadily grew greasier, as he lived off the privileges my enterprising initiative provided to my equally parasitic sister.
I imagined storming across the space between us, grabbing his smartphone, and stuffing the rectangular brain-wasting device up my nephew’s rectum.
Instead, I altered the subtle reality around the phone and gave him full access to the internet. Tunneling a data plan into my dimension was not very difficult. Besides, if the worthless shit was engrossed in vapidity, then he was too occupied to rob me.
“Really?” I heard Paige say, giggling.
“Indeed,” Grimskull said.
Leaving Randy to his withering brain cells, I returned to my sister and the baron. I focused my will tighter and reopened the portal from my realm. I inclined my chin to Courtney, who had been keeping his ever-present eye on the two of them. Courtney nodded and stepped towards the baron.
“Baron, if you would please follow me. Now,” Courtney insisted.
Grimskull, who cut an imposing figure, looked up at Courtney and shrunk back slightly. “Yes, Shadow Master, I suppose it is time. Lady goddess Paige, I do hope you will consider my offer. My empire is quite lovely.”
“Oh Viktor, you couldn’t handle all this,” Paige said as she slapped the cheap Lycra that barely contained her well-traversed . . . womanhood. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”
The baron bowed to my sister and departed with Courtney through the portal.
“Oh, he is wicked. I like him,” Paige said.
“Of course you do. You are always drawn to evil men. And idiots.” And apparently the allure of the all-you-can-eat Old Country Buffet, I thought to myself. “Now, may I ask, why are you here?”
“Oh Julie, you know, I’ve been thinking.”
I somehow doubted that.
“All you do is work, and somehow, you still look younger than me.”
“Because in this realm, time does not pass the same. It obeys my wishes. So, here, I do not age. Now, what is your point exactly?”
“You are not married and you have no children,” Paige said.
