Survivor: Definitely Not Minecraft

As I passed beneath the stone archway leading into Lord Godwod’s garden, I had to wonder what his reaction had been to the news of my return. He had said I could round up survivors of the raid, not rush off and face down a Dargothian army alone. He’d promised to help the lillits that returned with me, but under the circumstances, I doubted he would consider himself oath-bound to accommodate the host I’d brought to the gates of his city. At least it smelled nice here.

Lush rose bushes, heavy with blooms, lined the winding garden paths. The surface of an elaborate goldfish pond stirred with fish as I passed by, streaks of gold and orange fins. That was a recent addition. The man knew what he liked, and apparently, having his territory invaded was no reason to stop adding to his courtyard.

A swell of nervousness rose in my chest as I followed the path deeper into the gardens. He’d been supportive enough before, and I’d given him my oath as a vassal, but I had acted against his wishes, and lords didn't like that sort of thing. The other issue was my eyes. One look in a mirror had been enough to convince me there was no hiding it. My pupils were slits, and my irises had turned a vivid, unnatural green. It wasn't as if I could put in colored contacts to disguise their appearance, and Godwod would question a mask right away. Gastard had assured me that Drom's folklore was rife with examples of men who took on monstrous traits after killing monsters, so hopefully the lord would accept my appearance for what it was. I'd killed a demon, and now I had cat eyes. The guard at the garden gate had looked a little freaked out, but he had let me through just the same.

I spotted Godwod rising from an intricately carved stone bench nestled amidst the rosebushes. The lord of Henterfell had a habit of creating the appearance of chance meetings, though I was sure he had eyes and ears all over the city sprinting around to make it seem that way. He turned to face me, the circlet on his head glinting in the sunlight.

“William, my boy!” Godwod exclaimed, flashing me a broad grin beneath his curly blonde locks. “So good of you to finally make your way back to us.”

He strode forward to take my hand in a firm shake that seemed intended to test my grip strength. I squeezed back, and he winced.

“I admit to doubting your sanity when I first heard,” Godwod continued, shaking off his hand and turning the motion into a clap on my back. “But fortune does so favor the bold. Look at the victory you’ve won for us!”

I smiled back at him, unsure of how to take his ebullience. “It went pretty well.”

“Pretty well?” Godwod said, focusing on my face. He lost a beat, but then carried on as if he had noticed nothing unusual. “Word of your exploit traveled much faster than the feet of your little friends. All anyone can talk about is how the brave Sir William broke the back of the Dark Lord's forces and rescued the poor lillits from their torment.”

I'd caught up with the lillits on the way back and given them about a hundred cubic feet of ice to tide them over water-wise, but they had gone on to Eerb while I traveled the remaining distance to Henterfell. Though I wanted to see Esmelda, my intention had been to get to Godwod before anyone else did. Apparently, I hadn't been fast enough. A messenger certainly could have reached Godwod ahead of me, not that I had spoken to anyone or stopped off at any of the hamlets along the road. The lillits would have talked about what had happened, but news couldn’t travel that fast on its own. It wasn’t as if the people of Drom had cell phones.

“So…you know what happened?”

“Ah, well,” Godwod lost some of his cheer, “the details are murky, but I know well that you did more than visit Erisheht.”

“And you're…okay with that?”

Godwod steered me to the bench. “It isn’t exactly what we discussed, I admit, but I applaud your initiative. The nobles of Drom have been supercilious of late, and this will have them chewing their rings. I rebuffed the advance of the Dark Lord without calling upon a single one of my noble vassals for aid, present company excluded, of course. They won’t know what to think, and I rather enjoy that. You’ll have to tell me your side of the tale, and the official version will naturally require some embellishment. Perhaps I sent Sir Otto along with a select team of my personal retainers with you, something along those lines.” He looked at me expectantly, and his voice lowered, taking on a more serious tone. “What happened, my loyal servant? What did you do?”

So far, I’d avoided sharing the extent of my capabilities with Godwod, but it would be difficult to imagine how I might have accomplished what I had without a miracle.

“The force that raided Erihseht was relatively small.” I said. “They ended up with a lot more captives than soldiers. When we caught up to them, Gastard and I killed a few sentries, rallied the lillits, and we overran the camp in the middle of the night.”

“You make it sound so simple,” the lord said, turning to look toward the fountain at the center of the garden, where water poured continually from the image of a stone man. “Modesty, it may be, or something else. Did I ever tell you I'm descended from Umberious Rex, that I commissioned that statue in his honor?”

“I think you did,” I said.

“It is not an insignificant detail, to trace one’s lineage, that is at the heart of legitimate nobility. Some men are raised up for their deeds, but often those deeds are merely a matter of convenience for their liege lords. Favors and parcels. Trade as vulgar as the mongers hawking old fish in the markets. Not everyone who is high now can prove their blood runs true. If I was only a merchant myself, instead of a margrave, I would still have a claim upon the throne, however distant it may be.”

“It’s a magnificent statue,” I said lamely.

“That it is.” Godwod granted me a dead-eyed smile. “They say that the touch of a king can cure any illness, but that isn’t true. Egard’s hands are as callous as a farmer’s, and no magic springs from them, whatever the peasants believe. But Umberious, that was a different matter. He performed miracles, and his children may have done so as well. Reading the histories, it is sometimes hard to unravel the truth from the embellishments. Magic is outlawed in Drom, an old law, and a foolish one. The ignorant claim that sorcery is the domain of the Dark Lord and his demons alone, and therefore anyone who performs the impossible is corrupt. But how could that be true if the first king of this glorious realm was himself a man of miracles?”

Esmelda had spoken with me about the law. It was one reason we were bothering disguising my abilities. But though I thought of the lillits as being a bit magical themselves, they didn’t cast spells or lay curses, and they weren’t capable of anything that couldn’t be explained away with skill or natural ability.

“What is magic, though?” I said. “I’ve never met a witch or a sorcerer. Are there people like that in the Free Kingdoms?”

“You haven’t?” Godwod said, raising an eyebrow. “The stories say that Dargoth is full of sorcerers, and that demons lead their armies," he gave me a meaningful look, "but I suppose that is just what peasants would believe of the dark lands. In my mind, magic is anything that ordinary folk do not understand; the healing hands of a king, or the sword you gave me. A blade like that, it is magic of a sort, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of a sort,” I agreed. His blade wasn't enchanted, but if my System didn't count as magic, I didn't know what would.

“That is the crux of the issue,” Godwod said. “You have struck the hart in the heart. What is the sorcery we so fear? We have accomplished a great thing, even if it was nothing more than what you say. Leadership is a sort of spell, in its way. But I have it in my mind that there is more to you than that. People talk, you know, and lillits are people, all the same. A man of mystery, Sir William, to have come out of the wilderness dressed in strange clothes, knowing nothing of the Free Kingdoms. Did you know that in the past, when the Dark Lord was at war with the Free Kingdoms, there was an order of knights that specialized in killing demons?”

The segue caught me off guard. “The templars, right? Gastard told me about them.”

“There are many stories of their adventures,” Godwod said, “mere mortals, tasked with doing the impossible. Some of what is said can be dismissed as exaggeration, I am sure, but not all. The general populace distrusted the templars because of their strange ways. In times of peace, the ignorant shunned them, because of how their vocation affected their appearance.”

“Why?”

“Ah, well. This is only more stories, fireside tales, given that no man has slain a demon since before my father was born. But even men sworn to uphold the freedom of humankind cannot entirely avoid the taint that comes from facing demons. Victories marked the templars even more than their defeats.”

"I was worried I was going to have to explain my eyes."

Godwod did something that was very close to laughing. His shoulders rose and fell, but hardly any sound was involved. “Is it true then, you killed one of the aychar?

I nodded.

Godwod's smile had finally reached his eyes. "I knew there was something special in you, a worthy investment. Keep your secrets, if you must,” he said, “but I am not as close-minded as some of my fellow lords. Know that I am pleased.”

It seemed like a good time to change the subject.

“The lillits, my lord. You said I could bring them with me to the mine, the barony.”

His smile faded. "It was our understanding that you would take the barony only if you unearthed more gold."

"I will. I promise you. But the lillits of Erihseht need a place to settle now."

"The other villages will take them in." He waved a hand. "Your concern for them is admirable, but unnecessary."

"Eerb is undefended. They shouldn't stay there. Given what I accomplished, why not grant me the title now? You can always rescind it if I can’t deliver what you want from the mine."

"Oh, look! There you are." Godwod twisted on the bench and reached for the ground behind us, coming up with a fat brown rabbit in his arms. Mutig munched contentedly on a blade of grass as he was petted. The lord seemed to forget about me entirely as he scratched at the animal's long ears.

"He's uh, looking good," I said.

"A returning hero," he continued to play with the rabbit as he spoke, not looking up, "Gent will have even less cause to complain. No one will question why I showed you such favor under the circumstances. The title is already prepared for what we previously discussed. I suppose I could send Otto ahead of you to ensure Gent doesn't make a fuss."

"And I can bring the lillits with me?"

Godwod straightened. “Details, my friend. We can have all that worked out. The more important question comes next, now that you, and through you, I, have struck a blow against the Dark Lord.”

Conversations with Godwod could be hard to follow, and I assumed it was deliberate. Now he wanted to talk about Kevin.

“What do you think he’ll do?” I asked.

“I don’t have the slightest. Dargoth has not moved against the Free Kingdoms in generations. This assault on the lillits; it may have been the beginning of a larger offensive, or it may have been some whim of the unfathomable Dark Lord. We will never know, but I can't believe that he will look kindly on this check against his power.”

“The last time we spoke, you said that you had called for help from the king.”

“I did, and he will send it. Nobles are slow to act when an immediate threat has passed, however, and it may fall to you and your lillits to serve as a first line of defense against what comes.”

“They aren’t soldiers.”

“No, and they will not be alone. But you are my vassal now, and you will serve me to the best of your ability. As will those who are loyal to you.” He stood. “You have proven yourself capable beyond my wildest fancies, and I am eager to see what else you may accomplish.”

I rose as well; our meeting was at an end. Godwod was adaptable, if nothing else, and rather than being angry because I’d potentially started a war, he was comfortable spinning the situation to his advantage.

“I'll let the lillits in Henterfell know what I'm doing,” I said. Dongle and many others were still cloistered in the inn at the edge of the city. It was up to them how they wanted to live after this, but they would be more welcome with me than here.

“One thing more,” the lord said as I bowed, “do not forget our contract. Arm the lillits as you like, but do not make them swords. You are only to craft the sort of weapon you made for me when I have asked you to do so. I won’t have you diluting the market.”

I had failed to mention the pile of Dargothian steel we'd brought out of the desert, and it sounded like his informants hadn't heard about them yet either. Selling them was not a part of the plan, but the lillits were going to be as well armed as any knights in the king's service.

"Understood. That was never my intention." But I would craft whatever I thought we needed. Besides, the sword I'd made for him was gold, and it was safe to say I wouldn't be mass producing those in the near future.

He nodded, humming to his bunny. As I walked away, he called out one more piece of advice.

“Enjoy this time with your wife. In my experience, peace is short-lived, and marriage becomes less pleasant the longer it goes on.”

With that in mind, I was off to find Esmelda.