The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit) (11 page)

Waldo had spent all his life in Alter, residing inside Castle Corpselover. Everyone agreed that Alter was the most wonderful place in all the world.

He never doubted it. His travels would only prove just how wonderful and special his home city truly was.

XXX

The very first thing that bothered him was when the sky disappeared.

As he walked along the north road he noticed the daytime sky over head growing less and less dark. It slowly changed from charcoal to slate grey to ash grey until the sky was the unnatural color of cotton.

On his third day he saw tears in it. Rather than the constant cover that was normal, the sky began to break apart and he saw horrible and abnormal patches of blue! The very first time his immediate inclination had been to turn back and run home. By the fourth day the sky had disintegrated completely; there was nothing but the unnatural blue, with only occasional bits of white. Staring straight up into that vile and terrifying emptiness he expected to have something come crashing down on him at any moment. Without a comforting ceiling above his head he felt completely vulnerable and exposed. He kept looking up to stare nervously at the nothing overhead. When a patch of cloud appeared he would hurry his pace to try and get underneath it.

As bad as the lack of cover was, the ‘sun’ was a hundred times worse.

Waldo had been taught science along with math, history, and other subjects. He was not an ignorant savage, and knew that the Sun circled the Earth. It was, after all, what made the daytime bright enough to see back home. He’d never once seen it of course, but he knew it existed as he knew about the oceans or about dragons. It was the great ball of fire that circled the world and provided heat and light. It sounded curious, but not as interesting as say dragons or snow or the oceans.

The first time he’s seen it he’d stared at it until he was forced to look away. He could feel the heat of the thing. It made walking along with his heavy pack that much more tiring and made him sweat. Waldo also noticed that his black robes seemed to absorb the energy from it.

While he knew from his studies that the sun would not fall from the sky, he couldn’t help but have that impression. He also wondered if he would suddenly burst into flame or melt from the heat. (It never once occurred to him to remove his robes. They were a symbol of his status and he would sooner travel the whole way on hands and knees as go without them.) Those first few days were a misery. He was often under a clear blue sky with a bright sun overhead.

It was just horrible.

The world around him was much too bright. The land itself began to come to life the further he got from his home. First there were patches of straggly yellow grass poking out of the greyish brown soil. Occasionally there were a few shrubs and other vegetation within sight of the road. Once you left the Forge, Alteroth became a land of rolling hills and wide fields. Mile by mile the grass began to thicken and turn from brown or yellow to green. (He had used grasses and other plants in various potions. He was just not used to so many of them.) It grew on either side of the road as tall as his chest. When the wind blew he could see the grass bend and ripple.

While the sight of all this vegetation did not bother him the way the blue sky and ball of fire did, he learned there were terrors hidden in those fields of green.

One day, as he was just walking along, a horrible creature suddenly came hopping out of the grass right into the middle of the road in front of him. The small monstrosity stopped there, as if in challenge. It had wide eyes, a constantly twitching nose, and long deformed ears. It was the most disgusting thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

Waldo stopped and pulled out his wand. He stood his ground and did his best not to show fear. Waldo glanced towards the tall grass on either side and wondered if a horde of these vile things might be hiding there, waiting to pounce on and devour him. He did not attack out of fear of angering the creature and possible others.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the foul thing hopped away into the grass and vanished. Waldo took off running and hoped he would not encounter any more such revolting animals.

There were odd sounds. Chirps and squawks and hoots and caws. The air itself was off, as it lacked the familiar scent of sulfur. Instead there were strange and exotic fragrances that made his eyes water.

Even the night, which should have been comforting, was alien.

There were tears in the darkness; the countless ‘stars’ which were the souls of distant and uncaring gods. His mother had mentioned a few times how beautiful the clear night sky was. Waldo found no beauty in the pinpricks of light. To him they ruined the comforting blackness. Along with the stars was a crescent moon shining down with a coppery sheen. After enduring the ball of fire it wasn’t so bad. He tried to sleep out in the open as best he could, but didn’t get much rest.

He heard the various sounds coming from the high grass and imagined a horde of those monstrous long eared creatures just waiting for him to fall asleep.

The next day he came across a company of undead skeletons marching lifelessly. Such patrols were common all along the borders and roads of Alteroth. Empty eye sockets turned to him, and skulls dipped in a sign of respect. They recognized him as a Dark Mage. Waldo was sorely tempted to take two or three of them with him. They were instructed to obey the orders of any Dark Mage they came across. The idea of a few undead corpses standing over him in the dark would have let him sleep much more peacefully.

He didn’t, that would be against the rules for a First Quest, but he wanted to. Waldo walked along with them for as long as he could, before tiring and watching them shuffle too far ahead and out of sight.

Mercifully, he began coming to the small villages that were scatters along the way. Most of the Seven Great Families resided in or near Alter, where political and financial power was concentrated. Few bothered to spend much time in the countryside. Here was where most of the population lived and where most of the food was grown. The landscape changed from wild grass to neat fields of wheat and barley and other crops. Across open hillsides he could spot flocks of what he assumed were sheep peacefully grazing. Most of the villages were no more than a dozen or a few dozen simple thatch huts clustered about a central Inn or Hall.

In some of the larger villages and towns, there would be a mansion or master house, where one of the branch families would reside and act as local overseers. Waldo would have been able to call on them for hospitality, but the places he stopped at were too small.

The villagers always looked at him with honest fear, and fell over themselves to bow and show respect.

“I am a Corpselover.” He would say proudly and people would break into a fresh bows and proclaim how honored they were to have him staying in their village for the night. Waldo would take a meal at the Inn, spend the night in a decent bed and leave after a hearty breakfast with fresh bread, smoked mutton, and full water skins. All the while the people near him looked terrified.

It made him feel right at home.

In Alteroth only the seven families were allowed to own land. Everything belonged to them; and that included the people who lived in the countryside. The first village he stayed at happened to belong to the Poisondagger family. If Waldo had felt like murdering the villagers or taking them as slaves the cost to him would have been one silver rib per person. (Gold coins minted in Alteroth were skulls, silver coins were ribs, and copper coins were knuckles. The different nations gave their currencies various names, but all coins were minted to the same standards.)

That was how much a peasant’s life was worth.

The standard rate of exchange was twenty silver coins to one gold one. So Waldo could afford to kill or simply take two thousand people.

The people of the countryside were not considered slaves, they were serfs. They were bound to the land and required to work it. They were not allowed to leave their villages without permission. They were not allowed to own the land. When they died they were usually not even permitted burial or cremation. They were not given ANY rights under the law.

Still, they were much better off than the slaves who lived in the cities. For one thing, many were not under the eye of the families. They tended to live longer lives. They also enjoyed much more real freedom. Each fall they were expected to hand over half their crops and a certain percentage of their livestock. They were allowed to keep the remaining half to sustain themselves and to plant for the following spring. They could choose which crops to plant and how best to take care of their flocks and herds. They could marry whoever they wanted (within their village) and raise their families as they saw fit. So long as they produced the food Alteroth needed they were usually left alone.

Of course, if a branch family resided in the village, or if a member of one of the families was passing through as Waldo was, they were completely subject to any whim. Refusing, or in any way harming a Dark Mage, would mean death for all of them. He could sleep with any girl who caught his eye or take anything he wanted. Waldo noted that whenever he stayed at one of the villages there was never a pretty young girl to be seen. The only women were too old or unattractive to be of interest.

Waldo saw nothing wrong in any of this. He was used to looks of fear from those who served him. Even the slaves he’d been kind to had always looked at him in that way. To Waldo it was natural, nothing more or less than a sign of proper respect.

XXX

For three weeks he went north this way. Sleeping in a village Inn or Hall when he could, camping out under the stars when he had to. During the long hours of the day, he would study the map until all three stops were burned into his memory. There were just three ‘X’s’ in three cities. He had only Enver’s promise that there were Great Monsters waiting for him. What sort of monsters or under what circumstances they lived he had no clue.

If they were real he would track them down. Waldo had a detection spell that would help with that. Along with memorizing the map he was using these hours to study his spellbook. His sister’s words had convinced him to go this way, but he was not certain what he would find. From what he’d heard and read, Lothas wasn’t a pleasant place for Dark Mages. It only made sense to be as well prepared as possible.

As he traveled he imagined giants roaming about and vampires prowling hidden lairs. The closer he got to Lothas the more he tried to work out various scenarios for capturing these Great Monsters. Along with spells he was also going over the binding ritual that would make them his servants.

The very first town marked on his map was a place called Stratford that was right on the border. If he really could capture a Great Monster right at the start things would be easier. That monster would help him capture the second and then he would have two of them capture the third. Then he would have three powerful creatures bound to him, he would quickly defeat the first knight he ran into and would have passed two of the conditions set for him.

Simple.

XXX

At long last he reached the river Mainz that separated Alteroth from Lothas. It was fast flowing and about seventy yards wide. A single wooden bridge spanned it. As he approached it there was a merchant train of six wagons led by oxen crossing over to Alteroth. The Lothans hated his people, but not enough to decline their gold and silver. The merchants and the wagon drivers bowed their heads as they passed him, but did not slow down or call out greetings.

When Waldo stepped onto that bridge he finally left Alteroth.

On the other bank was Stratford, a good size city of perhaps ten thousand. Unlike the villages he’d visited where everyone lived in simple thatch huts the buildings across the river were of wood and brick and every one was brightly painted. Most of the walls were whitewashed and the slanted roofs were made of red and brown tiles. Some of the houses were deliberately painted bright colors to attract the eye; yellows, blues, reds.

The effect was jarring to the eye, he didn’t see the point. Alter, which was his model for beauty, was a city built of black volcanic rock. From the castles down to the paving stones everything matched. The streets were all the same width and all ran perfectly straight. Every city block covered the same area and every building had the same rigid architecture. There were no twisting roads or confusing cul de sacs or dead ends. There were no vacant lots or buildings that stood out from their neighbors. Alter was a monument to order and to uniformity.