The Dark Lord of Crafting

It was the same man guarding the gate into the courtyard of Godwod’s keep, but his attitude toward me was very different from my last visit. He put his fist against the breast of his red surcoat as we approached. It seemed like a gesture of respect, so I returned it.

“Hail, Sir Will,” he said, “The Margrave is occupied, but you can wait in the garden, and I’ll send someone to let him know you’ve returned.”

He didn’t ask me to disarm myself or offer any objection to Esmelda entering with me. Apparently, having sworn an oath to make Godwod my liege lord came with privilege. Was I technically a knight, or how did that work? The situation bothered me. It was nice not to be treated as an outsider, but it made me question why Godwod had been so willing to extend that kind of trust to me on our first meeting. He didn’t know me, and I hadn’t done anything to earn it.

On any other day, Esmelda might have appreciated the garden, but she did not comment on the flowers or the well-trained shrubs as we made our way to sit on the rim of the fountain.

“Why do you think he made me a vassal right away?” I said. “Isn’t that kind of strange.”

“It is,” Esmelda said. Her hair was up, and she absentmindedly touched the silver comb that kept it in place. I wanted to give her the wooden flower, but with everything that was going on, it was clearly not a good time.

“It is strange,” she said. “But Gastard says he is a man who never does anything without a motive behind it. I doubt it was an impulsive decision.”

“He didn’t push me about where I came from,” I said, “it makes me wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.”

“I think Dongle told him about you,” she said. “Or told someone. He has more business with Henterfell than anyone else in Erihseht.”

That checked out. I’d only met Dongle twice now, and he had given me the impression that he was a big fan, but there was something fake about it. The used car salesman vibes. Tipple had seemed to trust him, and it didn’t mean there was anything nefarious in his intentions, just that he was the sort of person who wouldn’t keep a secret. Godwod’s wife apparently bought jewelry from him, and anything he told her would get back to the Lord.

“So Godwod probably knows about the hero stuff,” I said.

Esmelda turned her body So she could look up at the fountain. “This statue, Umberious Rex. I always assumed Lord Umber played a role in Drom’s early days, but I do not know their history well. Their church and their king paint all magic as being a tool of the Shadow, but there must be some people who still remember heroes.”

A boy in a servant's livery came down the garden path and bobbed his head at us. “My Lord awaits you in the hall,” he said. We followed him out of the courtyard and soon found ourselves in the keep proper.

As we stepped into the dining hall, the ambiance felt oddly subdued despite its grandeur. The vaulted ceiling was supported by heavy wooden beams, their age evident in the darkened, time-worn wood. A few large tapestries, frayed at the edges, adorned the cold, stone walls. They were so faded it was hard to make out their subjects, men and horses, castles, surrounded by complicated decorative patterns.

High, open windows broke the monotony of the stone walls on the western side, allowing shafts of sunlight to pour in. These beams created alternating spaces of dimness of light, and Godwod was seated in a bright space at the end of a long table. The table, partially covered in linens, seemed to have been prepared for guests who had never arrived. There were extra place settings, but the only other occupant was Johanna, his daughter.

She was seated at the corner, half in shadow and in light, her wavy, golden hair unbound, wearing a simple gray dress. The servant paused at the entrance hall to announce us.

“Sir Will, my lord, and his wife.”

I hadn’t introduced Esmelda to anyone, but either the servant had made assumptions or the people in Godwod’s keep were a lot more aware of me than I had realized. Godwod wiped his mouth with a silk napkin and did not rise. His yellow and purple robes were the lone touch of vibrant color in the hall.

“You may enter,” he said. “Please, join us.”

Esmelda and I came to the table and sat opposite Johanna. I slid off my pack and dropped it behind my chair, laying Godwod’s sword, still wrapped in linen, on the table out of the way of the place settings. The silverware at our places gleamed, meticulously polished, and the crystal goblets, already filled with pale wine, sparkled in the sun's light. The condition of the tableware seemed out of place in the otherwise empty, dingy hall.

Godwod’s eyes flickered to the sword before coming to rest on me. “It pleases me that you returned in haste. And you,” he turned his head, “must be Esmelda.”

“I am, my lord,” Esmelda said, inclining her head. “I am honored to meet you.”

“Of course,” Godwod made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Try the duck, it is still crisp.”

He didn’t seem to want to jump right into business, and there was already food on the plates. Steamed vegetables, a boiled potato, and the duck. Esmelda and I thanked him and went through the motions of sharing a meal with the Margrave. Johanna was pushing food around her plate, but Godwod appeared to genuinely relish the simple meal.

“You have already met my daughter,” he said, “though not formally. As she is my only heir, it suits me to have her as my shadow as I go about the business of rulership.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Esmelda said, and Johanna nodded at us, saying nothing.

“Such interesting times we live in,” he said, “to think, I once believed I would grow old in this hall, with boredom as my only adversary.”

“Interesting?” I said.

“Yes. When I was younger, I would jump at every rumor of a koloss, evening riding out myself to meet the beasts. People are so willing to believe in monsters, so eager to find them, that they will turn a bear into a giant, and a bandit into a sorcerer. But at last, we have been blessed with an opportunity to face the shadow in truth.”

Esmelda’s mouth drew into a hard line. “Erihseht was attacked,” she said. “I cannot see that as a blessing.”

“Perhaps not,” Godwod allowed, “and that is understandable, as you are too close to the matter to see it clearly. My condolences for the loss of your father. Darfur imagines himself to be next in line, but I would prefer to see you acting in his stead. For the lillits in this city, you may speak to me, and I will speak to you.”

Esmelda winced at the mention of her father. “Mayor is an elected position,” she said.

Godwod raised an eyebrow over his glass. “Is it? How quaint.” He took a sip. “Regardless, as you are wed to my vassal, it will be simpler to have you acting as a leader and liaison in the interim. Do you object?”

“I’m happy to be of service,” Esmelda said. She ducked her head, whatever she actually wanted to say, she knew how to behave around nobles.

“What are we going to do about Dargoth?” I asked. “This is an invasion.”

“We?” Godwod smiled slightly. “I have sent my retainers to investigate, and messages to the Count and viscounts. A call to the barons will follow. But as to the role you will play, I first need to see how well you fulfilled your promise to me. That is the blade in question, is it not?”

I stood up to unwrap the sword. Seeing it, Johanna gasped, and Godwod became very still, his face kept carefully blank. I held the golden blade across my hands and walked into the light to kneel and present it to the lord. It seemed like the appropriate gesture.

Sunlight fell across the sword, highlighting the banded pattern along its blade, and Godwod’s eyes widened.

“I asked you for Dargothian steel,” he said, “and you bring me…this?”

“Are you displeased?” I asked.

He swallowed, standing as he gently lifted the weapon out of my hands, gripping the smooth wooden hilt, and raising it like he had just drawn Excalibur from the stone.

“Breathtaking,” he said. “Marvelous. There is truly none other like it. Where in the name of Gotte did you find so much gold?”

“The mine,” I said.

“Gent has never so much as hinted that there was gold to be found there.” He frowned and called for the servant, who rushed to attend him.

“Take this to my study,” he said. The boy looked at the sword like it was a live explosive, but did as he was commanded. The blade had to be worth more than a lifetime of service from his entire family, but it wasn’t like he could have walked out with it and sold it. Godwod didn’t seem concerned with security, which may have come with being a lord of his station. The silver circlet on his head was worth less than the pommel of what I had just given him.

He touched my shoulder. “Sit, sit, young man. You have greatly exceeded my expectations. How much gold was there? How did you find it?” He was making an effort to remain calm, but his eagerness bled through in his voice.

I returned to my place beside Esmelda, who looked worried. Johanna had stopped pretending to eat, and she was watching her father with an expression that came across as a little sad.

“Everything I mined went into that sword,” I said.

Godwod placed his hands on the table, leaning over it, and his eyes narrowed. “Of course it did. But if you found a vein, even a small one, there must be more to be had.”

“I’d have to dig deeper,” I said. There wasn’t any more gold. As far as I knew, the material that had made up the wall in the underground base had come from somewhere else. But if I wanted to start spending the ingots, I could certainly pretend that my gold was coming from the mine if he continued to let me keep digging there.

“I want you in that mine,” Godwod said. “Gent has clearly failed to utilize it properly, or else, he has been concealing its true worth. “I will rescind his rights immediately, and give you a deed. A portion of its yield must go to the crown, and a portion to me. But if there is more gold to be found, you will be a rich man indeed.”

“Uh,” I said, this was happening fast, and I had no idea what would constitute a good deal under the local laws and customs. “How much would I be able to keep?”

Godwod sat back down. He took a deep breath and licked his lips. “You have no title, and would therefore be working under my authority. A tenth of the yield would be generous, I think. I would supply you with laborers, of course.”

I wanted official permission to use the mine, but there was no more gold, and I didn’t want random people seeing me work. Also, ten percent was crap. “We can talk about the terms,” I said. “But I don’t think we can make plans for this mine while there is a Dargothian army marching around your territory.”

“Ah, yes,” Godwod said, “that.”

Esmelda’s face had grown darker as the conversation had turned to money. “The Dark Lord has taken the people of my village. They are citizens of Drom. Have you sent a messenger to the king?”

“I have,” the lord gave her an annoyed glance. “But I would not hold out too much hope for their fate. As I have told Dongle, those who escaped Erihseht are welcome to remain in Henterfell until we gauge the threat. But Drom has never marched an army through the Wastes into the dark lands. I expect the king to make a show of force, and we will be at the front lines, pushing the shadow back from whence it came. The lillits who were lost, however, are lost.”

“What about Eerb,” Esmelda said, “the other lillits towns. They could be under threat.”

Godwod shrugged. “I cannot stretch my forces to defend every hamlet and village in the border march.”

“The lillits are my people as well,” I said. “I would like to go back to Erihseht, and if any lillits are remaining there, bring them to Henterfell.”

“I will allow this,” Godwod said. “But remember that you are my vassal. The role you will play in my service going forward has become clear. War is a costly endeavor.”

“If Erihseht is gone,” I said, “its people need a new home. Why not let them settle the area around the mine with me?”

Johanna had been following the conversation silently, and now she looked up toward the rafters. “The Baron would have something to say about that.”

Godwod sat back in his seat. “What to do with the lillits does present an interesting question. The people of Henterfell may not welcome so many coming to live here at once. Perhaps it is an opportunity to be rid of Gent entirely.” He smiled. “Very well. Take over the mine, coax gold out of the rock, and I will hand over the barony to you. Given what you have brought me, Gent can no longer be trusted, and that is reason enough to strip him of his rank. You will be entitled to receive rents on the land and a larger portion of the mine’s yield. Settle the lillits as you like.”

I glanced at Esmelda. She didn’t look happy, and under the circumstances, I didn’t blame her, but we weren’t going to get a better deal than this.

“What do you think?” I said.

“Of course,” she said, her tone flat. “We are honored by the Lord's favor.”

“Alright,” I said. “Then I agree. What do I have to do.”

“Excellent.” Godwod gave one soft clap with his hands. “I’ll have the papers drawn up. But first, this calls for dessert.”