CHAPTER 52 Our Dark Lady’s Homemade Delights

CHAPTER 52

Our Dark Lady’s Homemade Delights

Brownie

“You met Gerda in Servalt?” Henrietta was on the edge of her seat listening to Brownie while the bard recounted their travels for the last few days.

Brownie smiled. “I did; she said she was going to swing by after she finishes playing with her new magic.”

“Bridge troll magic doesn’t count as real magic,” the Dark Lord stated vehemently, drawing everyone’s attention.

King Keith had spent the majority of her tale silent up until this point. He’d raised an eyebrow at her missing encounter, chuckled when Donna had been accused of stealing oats, frowned when she’d told him about the duke’s assassination attempt, and shot Rufus a look when she’d talked about retrieving the beastman from the Assassin’s Guild with the story of a dinner date.

Brownie was adept at reading her audience. Henrietta happily “Ooh’d” and “Aah’d” at the right moments and asked an endless line of questions, while King Keith just listened politely. The bard, with her decent Perception, knew the Dark Lord had spent a fair amount of her tale holding Henrietta’s hand under the table and presumably toying with it, if the occasional blush on Henrietta’s cheeks was an accurate tell.

Rufus also chose that point to add to the conversation. “Just because it’s not the [Magic] skill doesn’t mean it’s not magic. And her new skill is definitely pretty magical.”

“What is —? No. Don’t tell me.” The Dark Lord used his free hand to lift up his glasses and squeeze the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know.”

“If she’s free, does that mean we can have a girls’ night?” Henrietta was a bubble of joy and adorable energy. Brownie wanted to pet the human woman’s head affectionately, but she was sitting across from her and out of reach. With just the four of them, King Keith had chosen not to sit at the head of the table but beside his wife. Rufus sat across from him, and Brownie sat across from Queen Henrietta. Hence the stealth hand-holding.

“I was thinking we could wander out to the drawbridge after this and knock,” Brownie offered.

“Are you sure, love?” King Keith faced his wife.

Henrietta looked between Rufus and her husband and finally shrugged. “You can tell me how everything goes later?”

The king’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but he nodded. “Of course.”

“Then it’s settled!” Henrietta clapped. “We can visit after dessert! Which I personally prepared, so I hope you enjoy it.”

Brownie took her time savoring the lemon custard tarts and dark markle berry torte cake. Henrietta set aside a portion for Gerda, and when all was said and done, they left for the drawbridge.

“I’m so happy Gerda’s free.” Henrietta was almost skipping beside Brownie down the black cobble street. “I haven’t been available since the wedding much …”

A blush had come back to the young woman’s cheeks, and Brownie resisted the urge to tease the newlywed. The bard outright ignored the small twinge of jealousy at her friend’s newfound love and happiness. Henrietta deserved her happily ever after.

The streets were busy around them. Lanterns were lit, and the entire village was alight with an open market. This was the Dark Enchanted Forest, and a significant number of the citizens kept up a nocturnal lifestyle. Brownie spotted arachne, preela, elves, trolls, beastfolk, lizardkin, and more all going about their night to night.

When the pair reached the drawbridge, they recognized a familiar figure waiting for them.

“Gerda!” Henrietta ran forward and grabbed the bridge troll’s arm excitedly. “I brought you a present.”

Brownie lifted the basket she’d been carrying. “Our Dark Lady’s homemade delights.”

“I’ll never say no to your baking, my queen.” Gerda smiled, her eyes alight. “I’ve got a new batch of nettle tisane leaves from an elven crop in Servalt waiting for us below.”

The troll walked Henrietta onto the bridge. Two giant golems with long spears stood on either side of it, creations of the Dark Lord’s own making. He had golems of all shapes and sizes guarding the Dark Enchanted Forest.

When they got to the other side, the troll led them down the sloped, packed earth of the moat to the underside of the drawbridge. Brownie couldn’t help but ask, “Did you just have to pay for Henrietta and I crossing the bridge? ”

Gerda’s magic flared, and the door to her home appeared on the bridge. Henrietta let go of Gerda’s arm so the troll could open her magical door, the frame decorated with beautiful mushrooms and flowers and leaves; it was even more intricately carved than the last time Brownie had seen it.

“Yes,” answered the troll as she stood in the entry to her home, looking down on them sideways. Henrietta joined Gerda, and then it was Brownie’s turn. It was interesting to feel the spatial magic warp around Brownie as she reached a hand through the space directly overhead and stepped forward into Gerda’s home. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just an odd one.

“Wait,” Henrietta frowned up at Gerda. “What does she mean you have to pay?”

Gerda shrugged, closing the door. She waved at them to go get seated while she moved to a cauldron of water bubbling over the fire in her hearth.

As she spooned the water into a large teapot and dropped her sachet of the promised nettle tea inside, the troll explained to Henrietta that she had to pay to control the drawbridge without fulfilling her part of the troll magic.

Henrietta listened intently. When Gerda finished, the queen asked, “But … why ?”

That was actually what Brownie wanted to ask. She leaned forward in her chair, putting the basket of treats down on the table.

“Why what?” Gerda tilted her head.

“You’re spending hundreds of experience points just to control the drawbridge, and risking angering a Dark Lord … Why?”

The troll brought the teapot over and placed it on the table. “I actually have another way to pay for it … I found a loophole.”

They both stared at the troll expectantly. She hesitated but finally admitted, “I can pay it in taxes.”

“But that must be a hundred gold, at least!” Brownie exclaimed, incredulous.

“Well, yes. It costs about two hundred gold a year to manage all of my bridges and take some days off,” Gerda admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

“I can’t imagine.” The bard shook her head. Henrietta didn’t seem as worried, but she was the queen and probably didn’t worry about that many gold coins.

Gerda grabbed everyone a cup and added, “Do you have any idea how many experience points I get for holding every single bridge in an entire kingdom ?”

Henrietta and Brownie shared a look before shaking their heads.

“Let’s just say”—Gerda put her hands on her hips and looked like a self-satisfied grimalcat when she smiled—“that it far outpaces the loss. I could challenge Commander General Rufus himself for the highest-level minion of the Dark Horde. Not that I’d want his job. No. I’ll leave that to General Knolith when the time comes.”

“The lizardkin would have to win at the upcoming Winter Solstice Tourney, and I’m not too sure he will,” Brownie said. “Rufus won their last duel. ”

Gerda turned away to grab the honey and cream and three teaspoons, saying over her shoulder, “I’m sure the Commander General title will go to whomever needs it most, when the time is right; no need to worry.”

“You’re probably right.” Brownie felt her own cheeks heat up thinking of the beastman. She was worried. It meant a lot to him to keep his rooms and his place in the Black Fortress.

In fact, she hoped he was enjoying the comforts of home right now.