Skip to main content

BB Villain: The Cloak of War

     Newel, Duke of Northumber, stood by the window, staring over the lawn of his estate.  The great stone mansion had been his home for two years.  He had moved into the Northumber estate soon after the death of his mother.  It was not far from the castle that had been his home hitherto -- perhaps an hour's ride on a good horse.
     A servant appeared in the doorway. "They are assembled, your Grace," announced he.
     Newel surveyed his servant with a dissatisfied air.  Pomplin was his name.  He seemed faithful enough, but the man was an absolute bore with no warmth about him.  Newel wanted a plain servant with no fuss about him, but he hadn't counted on such a morose dimwit.  Serving was all the man was good for.  He had no imagination and a complete inability to think outside of Newel's orders (or so it seemed to Newel).
     "No matter," Newel thought to himself, curling his lip into a scornful grin.  "That's all I need him for."  Newel pushed himself away from the window with sudden alacrity and strode through the halls of his very own mansion.
      In the midst of the mansion, Newel uncovered a secret door.  Disappearing into its recesses, he lit a light and followed a set of stone steps deep into the heart of the mansion.
     At last he emerged in a small meeting room, well-lit with candles.  Several men were gathered there.  Newel's eyes went from face to face.  They were an ugly set of faces, hardened with the lives they lived.  Burly men who had developed the habit of lurking in shadows and checking over their shoulders; brainy men who had traded the look of lofty intelligence for one of cunning treachery; these were the sort that gathered in the secret room. 
     Newel's eyes stopped on the one unfamiliar face in the room.  "Who is this?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
     "Webb, your Grace," the stranger answered quickly.  "Tracker, swordsman, and so forth."
     Newel's eyes issued a challenge and were met calmly by those of the stranger.  Slowly Newel weighed the stranger in his mind.  It bothered Newel that the stranger returned his gaze so coolly, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being appraised at the same time.  A man like that could be dangerous to Newel some day.
     Newel averted his eyes from the stranger and shrugged.  Were not all of his men potentially dangerous if not handled correctly?  Did he not value a Rat with a calculating and quick mind?  This Webb would be like the rest of his Rats, completely under his thumb.  Newel shot a sideways glance at the stranger, only to see the stranger was still watching him.  Curse him for his boldness, but he would doubtless be able to make Newel's enemies quake with fear.  Newel gave a quick nod, granting his permission for the stranger to join them.
     "W'at's the plan," asked an impatient Rat, dragging a blade along his teeth in a pretense of dental hygiene.
     "I am going to own Darenheim," Newel answered, lifting an eyebrow haughtily.
      Exclamations spun around the room.
      "It will be easy enough if we take our time," Newel went on.  "As you know, my brother is on his way out of the country as we speak, taking an army with him to fight some fool war.  With the army gone, the estate, town, and surrounding country of Darenheim will be unprotected."
     The Rats shifted eagerly, their eyes lighting up as they began to understand the plan.
      "Bandits will plague the city," Newel said with a smile and a suggestive nod at his men.  "Soon, the city will suffer from loss of goods and the reluctance of any tradesman to do business with them.  And who can blame the poor traveling tradesmen -- they get robbed coming and going from the city!"
     The Rats winked at each other.
     "Such bandits, you understand, would be permitted to keep their plunder with no complaint from me.  Make yourselves rich, men," Newel added.
     The Rats were positively gleaming with pleasure.
     "With all the losses they have sustained, city leaders will jump at the chance to put themselves under my protection.  I will buy from them the estate, the city, and all the surrounding lands.  Whichever of you distinguishes yourself in my service will have the honor of ruling Darenheim for me," Newel announced.
      "We can make this plan work," promised one of the Rats.
       "Good," Newel said, shortly.  He turned to a flickering candle, toying with the flame in his fingers.  "This is a good war my brother has rushed into.  Like a dark cloak, it provides the perfect covering for our plans."  He pinched the wick in his fingers and the flame was extinguished.
      "Here's to the cloak of war, then," murmured a Rat as each of the men turned to the candles nearest them and pinched their flames.
     And the room was suddenly pitch black with only the sound of breathing to reveal its inhabitants.

     Extinguished Candle
    

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Countdown: Eight Days

Eight days.  Do you know what that means?  Barely over a week.  Tomorrow will be one week from the announcement date. Are you excited? I am. So, today, I want to talk to those who wrote something for the contest, whether or not you entered it in the end. What made you start writing your story?  What was the first inkling of an idea that tickled your brain?  What was it that you liked about your premise?  As you wrote, did you have a favorite character or a favorite scene?  And are you glad you wrote it down?  Do you feel like you learned and grew in your ability as a writer as you tried out things for this contest? And, if your story isn't included in this year's Rooglewood anthology (either because you didn't submit it or because it didn't fit with the other four stories selected), what will you do with it?  Will you market it elsewhere?  Or will you lock it away in a drawer?

Goodbye and God Be With You

It's rather fitting that some things come to a close on this day -- the last day of the year. I submitted my last entry into the Rooglewood contest this morning.  I can hardly believe it took me until the day of the deadline to send it in because I'm usually earlier than that.  And, even with the extra time I took, I still felt a little bit like maybe I could have done better if I had more time. But there was no feeling of regret when I hit "send."  Mostly it was just a prayer that Rooglewood would hear the heart of the message when they read it and that maybe, if I win, they could help me bring the full potential out of my little story.  And there was also a feeling, after working on these stories for more than six months, that it felt good to close that chapter and move on to the next one. I did it.  I wrote them.  And I'm really proud of them. Last year, the act of hitting "send" on my contest entry catapulted me into an anticipatory state....

Infinity Dreams Award

Rules 1. Thank and follow the blog that nominated you. 2. Tell us eleven facts about yourself. 3. Answer the questions that were set for you to answer. 4. Nominate 11 bloggers and set questions for them. STEP ONE:  Dear Tracey Dyck at http://traceydyck.blogspot.com, thank you for nominating me. STEP TWO:       I am the tallest girl in my family.      My hair is probably the same color as Tracey's.      I love red hair.  Long, rich, wavy, red hair.  Yes.      Death doesn't scare me.      Thunderstorms make me feel safe.  And happy.      I've seen about 170 human babies be born, and I haven't even counted the little animal babies that I've seen.      I think math is fun.      I think school in general is fun.      Im a vairy gud speler.      I am an aunt.    ...