Dark Lord's Commands 2 Read online

  Copyright © 2021 M.E. Thorne

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Andreea Sava

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Copyright

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Afterward

  Books by M.E. Thorne

  Author’s Note

  It’s hard to think that 2021 is almost over! It’s been a crazy year, and a lot has happened. But that doesn’t mean I can rest on my laurels; I aim to wrap up I Don’t Want to Be a Hero next year, and we’ll be getting the first three volumes as audiobooks too! I’ll continue to work on Dark Lord’s Commands, and we might even see a new series or two depending on how things work out.

  I’ve just started on I Don’t Want to Be a Hero Vol. 4, and I’m thinking the overall series will be 6 volumes by the end (though that doesn’t mean that’ll be the last we’ll see of Mal and Amalgam).

  Follow me on Amazon to get notified about my latest releases!

  As always, you can sign up for my newsletter or follow me on Facebook and Twitter for updates, sneak previews, and more! If you enjoyed this book please leave a positive review and spread the word!

  Thank you again!

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure this thing is edible?” I asked, looking into the enclosure.

  “Positive, Dark Lord,” Riggs, our lead hunter, swore.

  Lita, his daughter, nodded, “We ate a couple of them when we were fleeing through Marshul, before coming here.” She laughed, “They’re a bit gamey, but they taste pretty good if you cook them long enough.”

  I looked skeptically at the strange creature skittering around on the other side of the fence. It kind of looked like someone had taken the basic shape of an insect and then constructed it out of pink, overstuffed sausages. Black and brown chitin ridges ran along its back, but for the most part, the thing looked like a living, walking pile of raw meat.

  At least it can’t fly. I quietly sighed and pushed off the fence post. But this thing is just another reminder that I’m not on Earth anymore.

  It had been about a year since I’d come to Turmont, and while I had mostly adjusted to my new life as the Dark Lord of Duskhaven, things still occasionally managed to catch me by surprise. Like the skeeter, the strange bug-like creature my hunters had captured.

  I adjusted my circlet, my mark of office, and then turned to face the pair. “Do you think you can capture more?”

  “Certainly,” the big man responded almost instantly. “We can have two dozen of them inside the week.”

  Riggs was a skilled hunter and outdoorsman, but he was also eager for praise and recognition. I hoped he wouldn’t overtax his hunters by trying to keep his word.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the thing, it was busy crunching through a pile of straw with its serrated mandibles. “Do we know what they eat?”

  “Just about anything,” Lita confirmed with a shrug. “We gave it a bucket of scraps from the kitchen last night and the thing happily chowed down.”

  The skeeter began rooting up scrub grass, its jaws gnawing at the vegetation.

  Taking a moment to think, I inspected the entirety of our small kingdom.

  Once, Gloomglow had been a proud fortress, part of Duskhaven’s outer defenses. But when the Luminark Empire had invaded, they had reduced the keep and its walls to rubble.

  When I had first arrived, the place had been little more than a refugee camp, full of starving people huddling in the broken stones. But with Revina’s blessing and everyone’s hard work, we had made it into a real home. Our citizens had roofs over their heads, clean water to drink, and food to eat.

  It really felt like the capital of a revitalized nation, but I knew we had further to go.

  Coming to a decision, I nodded. “Let’s focus on capturing a small herd of them, say ten or so. We’ll coordinate with the kitchen staff and Emil’s farmers to ensure they get enough to eat. If this works out, I’ll order you to capture more.”

  Riggs and Lita smiled happily, “Thank you, Dark Lord.”

  As I began walking back towards the main keep, I reflected on how much my life had changed in the past few months

  In what seemed like a lifetime ago, I had been a political aide back on Earth. I had wanted to be a leader, someone who selflessly fought for the average American citizen to make their lives better. I had been rising through the ranks, becoming the aid to a powerful senator, when my dreams crashed and burned.

  I had discovered that the senator and his corrupt pals were siphoning off funds for illicit, selfish ends. When I tried to expose them, I had instead found myself framed for the very crimes they had committed.

  Fired and disgraced, I had thought my dreams were over.

  But then a woman’s voice had reached out to me, calling me from across the void. She had told me that my ancestors were exiles from her world, Turmont. I was the last of a dying royal bloodline; the Dark Lords of Duskhaven.

  With nothing left to lose, I had abandoned my life on Earth and come to Turmont, taking up the mantle of Dark Lord, becoming the king of a fallen kingdom.

  And I am so glad that I did.

  Upon awakening in Turmont, I had found myself in Gloomglow, a ruined castle surrounded by an arid and inhospitable wasteland. But by taking the throne, I had allowed the blessing of Revina, goddess of night and darkness, to renew the land. A vast, green prairie now stretched from horizon to horizon, broken up by small clumps of wiry trees and meandering creeks, their banks populated by curtains rust reeds and flowering duskbells.

  Several farms, vineyards, and groves spread out around the castle, growing wheat, grains, nuts, grapes, and other fruits. There were also charcoal burners, smelting stations, water mills, and a wide variety of production workshops.

  Hundreds of workers hurried back and forth, carrying out tasks or heading to their jobs. There was always something that needed doing in our reborn kingdom, but the people were happy.

  The old kingdom of Duskhaven had fallen two hundred years ago, destroyed by Alruna, goddess of day and light, and her followers, the Luminark Empire. Our people had been enslaved, hauled back to the empire to build their cathedrals, man their factories, and fight their wars. The power of the empire was built on centuries of Duskhaven blood.

  Our citizens had risked everything to escape their enslavement and flee north, to their ancestral homeland. To be able to live free, with food in their bellies and a roof over their heads, was a true blessing to them.

  But we must aim higher.


  Walking towards the entrance to the keep, I saw my First Queen, Vexile, slithering my way. She had been the one to call me to Turmont, and I loved her for it.

  Vexile, my First Queen, was Revina’s high priestess. She had the arms and torso of a beautiful woman and the lower body of a snake. The scales along her back were black and red, fading to yellow along their edges.

  She was utterly captivating, and I adored her.

  “Robert,” she hissed, coming in close for a kiss.

  “How are the expedition plans going?” I asked her, placing my hand around her waist as she slithered by my side.

  “Good,” she nodded, holding up her notebook. “I believe we’ll be able to leave in the next few days, once we’re done with construction on the sledges.”

  “Then let’s go check with our master blacksmith,” I chuckled.

  We headed around the inside of the keep, towards the large blacksmith shop. I couldn’t help but notice a large number of what my citizens dubbed as cats were lazing about outside the building, resting against its stone walls.

  One of the big, black ones got up, stretched its back, then came over to rub itself against my leg. I reached down and carefully scratched it between the ears, careful of its sharp quills.

  When I had been summoned to Turmont, the land of my ancestors, I had been blessed by Revina with the gift of tongues, allowing me to converse with our citizens. The problem was when there wasn’t a direct translation for a given word, the magic tended to just find the closest analog. These strange differences managed to throw me through a loop now and then, as it did with the cats or the strange horned creatures our citizens called deer.

  Going inside, we were assailed by a blistering heat, which radiated out from the forge.

  Standing above the anvil was a titanic figure with four arms. Hair like cooling magma ran in spiky waves down her back. Hot sparks jumped with each strike of her hammers, but she stood stoic, completely unaffected by the heat.

  “Nichessa!” I called, yelling over the sound of her hammering.

  She stopped mid-stroke, turning. “What?”

  I came over and put an affectionate hand on her wrist.

  She stood well over two meters tall, with muscles honed by decades of hard work. Her dusky skin and harsh expression made her look like she had been carved out of a mountain. But as my Second Queen saw me, a sly, embarrassed expression came across her face, making her look like a young maiden.

  “Dark Lord?” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her apprentices were working outside.

  I leaned up and kissed her.

  “Stop,” she swatted me away, “you know I don’t like that kind of stuff when I’m at work.”

  “You’re a queen,” I reminded her, “you're always working.”

  She huffed, then put her tools down. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you looking at that gross thing the hunters brought home?”

  “Considering we’re going to try and raise them, I think we should withhold judgment on their appearance,” I laughed.

  I looked out the building’s back door, at the three sledges under assembly. They were heavy sleds, designed to haul blocks of stone.

  Rebuilding Gloomglow’s inner walls had been a monumental effort, but well worth it. Not only did they provide shelter and defense for our people, but Nichessa had also cleverly added a small aqueduct into their construction, giving all our citizens access to clean water without the burden of having to haul it up directly from one of our wells.

  Sadly, we had exhausted our supply of stone in their construction, taking what could be saved from the ruins of Gloomglow’s demolished outer walls. We had plenty of rust reed, the ubiquitous bamboo-like plant that grew in Duskhaven, for simple construction projects, but we had grander ambitions. If we were going to rebuild our kingdom we would need a mountain of stone.

  Quarrying would be a difficult proposition with the amount of manpower and resources we had, plus we had to keep our projects hidden from the Luminark.

  But Duskhaven was littered by the fallen ruins of once-great cities and fortresses. Instead of quarrying up fresh stone, we would salvage what was freely available in the wreckage around Gloomglow.

  The plan was to strike for Vilewind, a city that had once stood to our east. It was a sand serpent haunted ruin, but if we could overcome the hostile animal life, we would have enough stone for dozens of building projects.

  Plus we might find other things of value, I thought to myself. We could easily find more black iron scraps and other bits of metal to salvage. Plus, Vexile claimed that the old kingdom was famous for its libraries and universities; we might hope to find a bit of forgotten lore or history.

  Anxious concerns filled my mind. We need every advantage we can get.

  Our enemy, the Luminark Empire, might have been moribund and corrupt, but it was still huge and powerful, boasting thousands, if not millions, of soldiers, priests, and inquisitors.

  I thought of the Spear of Subjugation, locked away in our keep; I could still remember the horrifying pain I had experienced under Alruna’s light.

  One of our first strikes against the Luminark had been in liberating a black iron mine to our west; that was where Vexile and I had first met Nichessa. The three of us, along with our soldiers and allies, had managed to destroy the camp and rescue its prisoners, but we had almost died in the process.

  The camp’s overseer, a corrupt old man named Sanderson, had nearly killed us with the artifact weapon, which had been infused with Alruna’s blessing. Only the timely intervention of one of Revina’s ancient guardians had saved our lives.

  Vexile, sensing my worried thoughts, nudged me lightly, shaking me out of my fugue.

  “The sledges should be done in about three days,” Nichessa told us, after stepping outside to confer with her apprentices. “I’d like to do a test run before we leave for Vilewind though. The last thing we want is for one of them to break with a load of stone on them.”

  “I’ll make arrangements with Marl,” Vexile said, writing it down.

  “I just gave Riggs and his hunters the task of wrangling up more sketters, so let’s aim to head out once that is done,” I decided.

  “We’ll need every hand we can get,” Nichessa emphasized with her four palms. “I only dealt with sand serpents a few times in my life, but each time I barely got out alive.”

  Grinning, Vexile hugged Nichessa’s arm, “But that was before you had us.”

  “Or our secret weapon,” I agreed.

  The titaness rolled her eyes sarcastically, “What did I get myself into?”

  It was late by the time I finally retired to the Royal Quarters, the section of the keep reserved for me and my ascendant queens.

  After visiting the forge, I had gone to the temple of Revina and met with the acolytes. Ahkil, half of her scarred face hidden by an eyepatch, was a strict and devout follower of Revina. She was utterly dedicated to her goddess and Vexile. She was a tough woman but did an admirable job of seeing towards the health and well-being of Revina’s followers.

  We were working with George and Dominic, who headed our orphanage and daycare programs, on an educational course. I wanted to ensure that our children would learn basic literacy and math, but I was saddened to find there were very few of our citizens who fully grasped either subject.

  Ahkil had politely suggested we open the classes to everyone in Gloomglow, not just the children. She had several acolytes that could assist, and George and Dominic were happy to volunteer as teachers as well.

  Not all the differences between Turmont and Earth are good ones, I reminded myself.

  Returning to my room, I realized I had some free time before dinner would be served. Grabbing one of Vexile's history books, I began studying.

  Turmont was a world defined by religious conflict. Since the beginning of human history, their beliefs and desires had given rise to countless pantheons. In turn, those gods were fed and nourished by their believers,
who received their blessings, gaining the power of magic. They used this power to fight their neighbors in bloody wars of conquest and forced conversion; the gods hungered for more power, as did their faithful.

  And the people who had been repressed, beaten, and enslaved would pray for deliverance, in turn giving rise to a new pantheon.

  This cycle of religious violence continued for millennia until the rise of the Primevals. They represented the fundamental forces of mortal existence; life, death, light, and darkness. Together, this new pantheon had scoured away the lesser gods during a climactic war known as the Godsfall.

  They had attempted to rule Turmont together, but as the goddess of light, Alruna, had gained influence, her followers had begun to persecute and forcefully convert those that worshiped the other Primevals.

  To prevent another war, Turmont had been divided into three great nations. The Luminark Empire dominated most of the southern continent. Marshul, dedicated to the twin gods of life and death, settled the land bridge in the middle of the continents, and Duskhaven was founded to the north.

  Vexile said we had once been a nation of craftsmen, scholars, writers, and leaders. For six hundred years the Dark Lords, chosen of Revina, had ruled over a vast kingdom, aided by their ascendant champions. But all our wisdom, humility, and skill meant nothing when the Luminark Empire finally invaded. They crushed Marshul and then destroyed Duskhaven, utterly decimating our cities, killing our people, and enslaving those that survived.

  Liberation, I reminded myself, is our ultimate goal. Saving those held as slaves in the empire, and making their wardens pay for their crimes.

  “Robert?”

  Vexile slithered into the room, her hair still damp from the bath.

  Smiling, I slipped a bit of paper into the book to mark my progress and put it aside. Rising, I went to hug her. She wrapped her serpentine tail around my legs, and I felt safe in her embrace.

  “Robert?” she hissed, her forked tongue tickling my ear.

  I hugged her tighter, loving the feel of her pink skin, like aged leather under my fingertips, as her scales squeezed me tighter. She shifted her hips, dragging herself against the front of my trousers.