The Dark Lord of Crafting

At three stories, the inn stood a head above the other buildings on the outskirts of Henterfell. The last time I passed it by in the morning, the ground-floor windows had been open to the sunlight, but now they were shuttered. Even the busker was gone. I glanced at the sign hanging from a pole at the front of the building, a large laughing man with a round belly. The word “Hoxna’s” was painted underneath it in bright yellow letters. It was definitely the right place, but there was a placard resting on the front door that read “Fully Booked.”

I tried to open it and found that it was locked. I knocked, and a few moments later, a slide opened to reveal a thin-faced man with a handlebar mustache. He glared at me.

“We haven’t got room,” he said. “Try back in a week.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. This was incredibly odd. Why would the inn be full first thing in the morning, even if it was, the bar and the dining hall still could have done business. But I didn’t see a point in antagonizing the man in charge of the door. “I was meeting someone. Is a man named Gastard saying here?”

He gave me a long look. “Wait, are you Will?”

“Yes?” This entire situation seemed to have gone off the rails, and I had no idea what to do except to play along.

The shutter closed, and I heard a key being turned in the lock. The door opened onto a warmly lit tavern crowded with lillits. Some faces I recognized without being able to put a name to them, and as I entered, it seemed that a hundred eyes were suddenly focused upon me. If there had been conversation before my arrival, it had died too quickly for me to notice. Little folk filled all the seats around the tables and at the bar, many of their legs dangling from the high seats, though it didn’t appear as if anyone was drinking.

Gastard’s presence was unmistakable at a table toward the back of the room. I saw Dongle was with him, dressed in a fine doublet and wearing a golden chain around his neck. His curly-haired son was beside him, and Esmelda was already racing across the floor to meet me.

She stopped short. Her gray eyes rimmed red, and seemed unable to speak. I didn’t know what was happening, but she was obviously in distress. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to my chest. The man with a handlebar mustache shut the door behind me, and she began to cry.

Most of the lillits turned away, talking quietly amongst themselves, while others watched in silence. I ignored their gazes, focusing on the young woman who was weeping against me, utterly confused. The man excused himself, and across the room, I saw Gastard staring down into his cup.

I didn’t know what to do, but Esmelda seemed to gather herself and pulled away. She looked up at me, her chestnut hair framing a face wet with tears.

“What happened?” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Monsters came to Erihseht, and soldiers of Dargoth. The lillits you see here were those that escaped.”

“And the rest?” It was too soon. I wasn’t ready to fight an army, let alone Kevin. Fortune had dealt me a major windfall with the underground base, and it had felt like there would be a chance for me to get ahead, but now the other shoe had dropped, and while the first one had been full of gold, this one was all monsters.

“Dongle can tell you, he was there.”

She led me to the back of the inn. Some of the lillits were looking at me with hope in their eyes, and others, anger. Before I had come to Erihseht, the Dark Lord had been a distant memory, something from their histories. Even if my arrival had nothing to do with Dargoth’s actions, it would be natural to make the connection. And for all I knew, my presence may have been what caused this.

Dongle wasn’t exactly cheerful, but he appeared to be in better spirits than the rest of the lillits gathered in the inn. He flashed a grin at me as we reached the table, showing off his pearly white teeth. Maybe he was putting on a front, but his son was here with him, so he might have had more to be thankful for than many of the others.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. “You’re exactly the man we need.”

“You too,” I held out a chair for Esmelda and then took the one beside her. “I’m glad you’re okay. What happened?”

Dongle laced his fingers together in front of him on the oak table. There were old stains beneath his hands. “I was working late,” he said, “and stepped outside to clear my head. On my last trip here, I picked up several orders, including one from Lady Godwod. The woman has impeccable taste, and no sense at all of how long good work can take–”

“Dad,” Quentin said, his voice pained. In contrast to his father’s impeccable dress, he had come here in a nightshirt and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Oh,” Dongle said, “my apologies.” He flashed another grin. “I heard the most terrible sound, a banshee’s wail, from somewhere in the sky. Torches were being lit on the other side of town, and I got close enough to see soldiers going from house to house. I ran straight to the church and got Tipple ringing his bell. We rounded up as many people as we could, and ran out of Erihseht with nothing but the clothes on our backs.”

He didn’t mention the rings on his hands or the gold chain around his neck, but he could well have been wearing all that when it happened.

“They set the mill on fire,” Quentin said, his voice quiet. “And there were…things, with them. The watch got together, tried to organize people. Tried to fight, but that made it worse.”

“The soldiers were taking captives,” Dongle supplied. “Herding people like animals. There was a ring of koroshai, and they made whoever they took stand in the ring.”

“They weren’t attacking?” The shamblers should have seen the lillits as easy prey. Not that they cared if prey was easy or hard, but in my experience, they would try to eat anything that moved.

Dongle shook his head. “It was eerier, all those monsters, standing still like they were taking orders.”

I thought about the night Gastard and I had taken on Bill. Was it possible the face-stealer had gotten out of his stone prison? Even if he had, that wouldn’t have explained where the soldiers or the other shamblers had come from.

Gastard gripped his cup so hard I thought it would crack. “A demon,” he said, “one of the Dark Lord’s generals, here, in the Free Kingdoms.”

“I didn’t see any demons,” Dongle said. “Then again, I might not know if I had. We got away as quickly as we could. Those who fought were killed. And once you were among the koroshai, there was no getting away. I heard people screaming who tried to run.”

I stopped myself from asking about Boffin and Brenys. If they had made it out, then they would have been here with us. One glance at Esmelda was enough to assure me of that.

“But they weren’t killing anyone who didn’t resist? They were there to take prisoners?”

Dongle squeezed his hands together. “That was what I saw.”

“When the lillits were in Dargoth,” Esmelda said, “it was a different age. The land was green, and people flourished. Then the Dark Lord came and made us his pets. When we were freed, it angered him. Despite all the years that have passed, he still thinks of us as his wayward possessions.”

That wasn’t good, but it was better than outright slaughter. “What’s Godwod doing?” I asked. “This is an invasion. Isn’t he in charge of the border?”

“He is,” Gastard said. “And he has asked the lillits who come to Henterfell to remain here and cause no disturbance in the city. Otto and other knights left with their followers to assess the situation.”

Dongle nodded. “The margrave is paying Hoxna a hefty sum to house us all. It’s generous of him.”

Generous probably wasn’t the word. Godwod was trying to prevent panic by keeping the lillits all in one place and away from the rest of the populace. But people had to have noticed their arrival and would be asking questions. That must have been why the doors were locked and the innkeeper had been prepared to turn me away.

“I need to see him,” I said. “I’ve got his sword, and maybe I can get some information out of him about what he plans to do. Otto isn’t going to miss an army. Dargoth is here, and Henterfell is going to have to respond.”

I stood, and Esmelda grabbed my arm. Her gaze was as steady as her grip.

“I’m coming with you.”