The Dark Lord of Crafting

We surveyed the Dark Lord's army from atop a hill more than a mile from where they camped. It was a mass of men and monsters large enough that I couldn't estimate their number. It was like looking at an old photograph of a political rally, or a march. Was that what ten-thousand people looked like or twenty? Godwod, Count Duku, and I had arrived with a retinue of fifty mounted men. There were a hundred more on foot, still hours behind us, and in the face of this, there might as well have been none.

"What is that?" Godwod said. "I have never seen a road like it."

The Dargothians had crossed the mountain and appeared to have settled in the foothills. It was hard to make out at this distance, but the trail that snaked behind them and up into the pass appeared to be a train track. A yellow mist obscured much of the enemy force, two distinct clumps, making it even harder to guess at their total number. Even as we watched, the engine of the train came slowly around the peaks, its iron face dull and soot stained, black smoke spewing out of its stack.

We'd ridden straight from Henterfell as soon as the sun rose, and I would soon have to make excuses for why I needed to be by myself when the sun went down. Keeping watch? Scouting? We'd traveled faster than I'd expected, and the animals were weary. They'd lent me a horse, and the poor creature was half-dead under my legs.

"That's a mechanical carriage," I said, "and it can only run along that track. Depending on how many cars there are, it could carry hundreds more soldiers. Plus supplies for the entire army."

Duku made a choking noise, but Godwod looked more excited than afraid.

"Incredible," he said. "My father spoke of such things existing in Dargoth, but I believed them to be mere tales. Even before Egard banned trade, there were no such carriages bringing goods into our land."

"We're going to need a much bigger army," I said.

Godwod didn't answer, and silence descended on our little group at the fore of the riders. Otto pulled his horse forward, a wicked grin painted across his face, and Duku was motioning for some of his retainers to come forward.

"Dismount," Godwod said, "we will share an oath."

The others immediately complied, hopping off of their saddles without a word. I followed suit, though in a less practiced manner, being careful not to get my boots tangled in the stirrups.

"Your armor's something," Otto said. "I wouldn't mind a set like that. Did you make that too?"

"What oath?" I asked, ignoring Otto.

There was a gasp from among the retainers as Godwod drew his sword. A blade of gold, its edge gleaming like fire. The weapon was the prettiest thing I'd ever crafted. I almost regretted giving it to him.

"This is a momentous occasion, one that will be spoken of for generations to come. Upon this blade, we will swear to uphold the kingdom of Gotte, and hold it fast against the shadow."

He'd never seemed even mildly religious before, but he sounded serious. Otto's grin faded, and he gave his lord a questioning look, but Godwod wasn't paying attention to him. His gaze settled on me.

"Please, my loyal vassal, remove your right glove."

So we were starting with me. Okay. I unclasped my gauntlet as the others watched. Most of the riders were farther down the hill, but four men had brought their horses up behind Duku. One of them eased forward to take the reins of the horse I had ridden and lead it to stand with the rest. It clopped away, no doubt relieved it wasn't being asked to run anymore.

"Hold out your hand."

I did. Godwod was holding the sword vertically, and he brought it down with a swift motion. Reflexively, I pulled my hand back, but not fast enough. The edge of the golden blade went clean through three of my fingers at the knuckle and shaved off the tip of my pinky as well. For a second, I was too stunned to react. It didn't even hurt. How could it be that sharp?

Then Otto tackled me. I tried to catch myself, and it didn't go well. The pain of landing on my partially severed fingers was sufficiently shocking that I felt like I lost a few seconds of time. More men were piling on to help Otto, grabbing my legs and arms. Individually, I was stronger than them. Against a group, with a messed up hand, I had no chance. Wriggling and kicking, I tried to roll out from under Otto, but they pulled both my arms behind my back and had one man on each of my legs.

Godwod stepped in front of me, all I could see was his shoes and the hem of his garish yellow robe. His tongue clicked.

"I owe you a thousand apologies, Mr. Will, but this will work out the best for everyone."

"Why—-" Otto pressed my head down, and I got a mouth full of dirt. My hand was on fire, but the feeling was secondary to the anger roiling inside of me. Godwod had made a deal with Dargoth. There was no other explanation, and all my plans were moot. I'd never imagined he was a kind or caring person, but this seemed extreme. We'd had a good working relationship that was very profitable for him, and I'd thought that would be enough.

He wasn't just betraying me; he was betraying his kingdom. Did he think Kevin would be satisfied with my capture and leave Drom alone?

"I'm sure you have questions," he said, as casually as if we were sitting together in his garden. "Understand that this isn't about you."

I could feel ropes being tied around my arms and legs. They were hog-tying me. Rather than bother trying to plead, I continued to struggle, rocking and jerking. Otto had to shift off my back to allow the others to work, but he kept a hand on the back of my head. The grass and dirt mingled in my mouth with the copper taste of blood.

"Bind his hand," Godwod said, "and be certain he doesn't die. The Dark Lord stipulated that he be brought to him alive. If we lose him, there will be war."

"He won't stop!" I yelled through a mouthful of ground. "It's a trap!"

Otto shoved a rag in my mouth, and they quickly finished binding me. A few moments later, they lifted me onto the back of a horse and cinched me in place. I could see the sky. High overhead, dark shapes were outlined against the deep blue of fading day.

Godwod leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Don't worry, Will. I'm not a fool. I know he won't stop. But now I will have an exalted position in the world that is to come. I couldn't be more grateful to you."

The sounds that came through the gag in my mouth were not words, but he got the gist.

Godwod straightened. "There's no call to be rude," he said, and then a harpy sank its claws into his face.

Curses and shouts, feathers and swords. From my position, I couldn't watch the fight after Godwod stumbled out of my line of sight. All I saw was the sky. Screeches mingled with screams, and orders were shouted to the waiting men. It was nice of my homies to jump in, but they were just a scouting group. Even if the entire flock had been here, it wouldn't have been enough to overcome fifty armored soldiers.

The altercation lasted under thirty seconds. Harpies wheeled away, rising beyond the reach of swords, and headed west. They were smart enough to know they couldn't win. At least I knew my friends would learn what had happened to me. Esmelda had a place to go.

And I had a way out of this.

"Take him," Godwod said, out of my sight. "We have to finish this before more come."

"What the hell?" It was Otto. "Does he control birds?"

"No. But the harpies are his allies. Will is a sorcerer, and he has sold himself to the Shadow. He belongs to the Dark Lord, and when we return him, this land will be safe once more."

So, he was lying to Otto as well. Or was that statement for the benefit of the Count and the other soldiers?

"Of course," Count Duku said. "There was no way a man like him could have killed a demon. The Dark Lord knows he cannot defeat the might of a united Free Kingdoms. You are sagacious as always, my lord."

What was he talking about? If Kevin was afraid of the kingdoms, he wouldn't be rolling in with a train. Whatever. He was just trying to make the situation make sense to himself. The cloth in my mouth was clean, at least. I tried moving it around with my tongue, but it was in there deep. It would be easier to choke on it than spit it out.

They started leading the horse forward. With only a mile between us and the enemy encampment, if I was going to enact my escape, I would have to do it quickly. My sword was still in its sheathe, but there was no way for me to get to it. They tied my wrists tight enough that the rope was doubling as a tourniquet. My fingers were still burning, but mostly, my hand felt numb. Fortunately, there was another option to get out of this.

I held my breath.

For about thirty seconds, nothing happened. Then the heart bar in the corner of my vision started to blink. Ten more seconds went by, and there was a change.

When I was younger, I'd gotten really into holding my breath. A weird hobby for a weird kid. My record was three minutes. The goal here wasn't to last as long as I could, though, it was to die. You could drown in Maincraft. When you went underwater, a bubble bar appeared, and when that timed out, you lost health instead. Under normal circumstances, there was no way I could hold my breath until it killed me.

Even if you passed out, your body would breath on its own, and I wouldn't get to that point. As the oxygen levels in my blood dropped, my chest spasmed. That's what happens when you hold your breath for a long time. You don't get light-headed, your vision doesn't fade. Instead, your whole body wakes up and tells you it's pissed. I've never tried free-diving, but what I've read about the experience is that it's less about conditioning your body to go longer without air than it is about learning to remain calm despite the sensation of slowly dying. The more relaxed you are, the more still, the fewer demands your muscles make for oxygen.

Suffocating is not peaceful. It sucks.

My chest spasmed again. My head hurt. Another heart flickered away. I wriggled to distract myself from the discomfort. A few spasms later, my willpower gave out to the desperation of my panicking flesh and I drew in a sharp breath through my nose. My brain didn't know that dying right now would actually be best for us, and it was hard to argue with your brain.

But I had lost hearts, and I could do it again.

The grassland bobbed up and down from my upside down perspective. My captors had to be watching me, but there was no way for them to tell that I was making progress, and they expected me to struggle. Struggling was futile.

After three more attempts, I was down to two hearts.

"Hail!" Godwod called. "And well met. I have brought you what you desired."