Episode 2: In Which Clarence Finds a Friend
*Evil Overlords are people too*
"Why are they rioting? And why couldn't it have waited till a decent hour!?" The Evil Overlord of Tarelia was not a morning person. He was especially not a crack of dawn kind of guy, but no one had stopped to consider his sleep habits before deciding to form angry mobs at around 6 o'clock that morning. The guard visibly shrank away from his Overlord, who was still sporting a night robe and cap. "The leader of the uprising wrote up a list of grievances and demands. Here it is O Glorious and Terrible Master." The man dropped to his knees, head bowed, and raised the scroll with both hands as if presenting a legendary sword to a mighty hero. Clarence snatched up the scroll impatiently, unrolled it, and began to read it with a scowl. He was still upset about being dragged from his warm, comfortable bed at such an early hour. These country folk had came into the city about an hour ago, angry about something or another, and began making a mess of things. Really, some people had no manners at all.
"It says here that they want us to stop taking such a large portion of their crops and livestock or else they won't survive the winter," Clarence informed the kneeling guard. "How do they expect us here at the castle to eat if we don't take food from them? They're the ones who have farms and such. Not much room for raising livestock and growing produce inside the fortress. They should be worried about us surviving the winter!"
"Quite right, sire, couldn't have said it better me self."
"These people are being unreasonable and selfish! I am their ruler but they don't think me, my court, or the army that protects them should eat! Astonishing!"
Clarence thought in silence for a moment. He was still furious about being woken up. His dream was quite a pleasant one. It involved some very pretty young ladies wearing rather less clothing than is generally considered decent. For that, they would all pay. Fuming, the Supreme Dictator pulled out his Evil Overlord Handbook and quickly flipped through to the section that covered uprisings. After a few moment's study, Clarence closed the book with a definitive snap and sent the still-kneeling man to go fetch the captain of the guard.
In less than a minute, the huge wooden doors of the throne room swung open to admit an impressive-looking man followed by a dozen other high-ranking guards. The captain's name was Jared and he had held his position for over fifteen years. He was a tough, scarred man who looked as if he could take down a giant with his bare hands, then eat him-without any utensils. Rumor had it that he actually did once, but reports were never confirmed since there were no survivors to witness it.
"Send out as many of your men as you think you'll need to stop these whiny country bumpkins," Clarence ordered, in the style of a true tyrant. "Kill any who resist, then burn their little town to the ground. Tell them they had better think twice before rebelling so damn early in the morning! If they had waited till past noon, their pathetic little town might have been spared. Go-make sure they know that."
"Yes my liege! The screams and weeping of their women and children shall be music to my ears as I make the streets run with the blood of the menfolk," declared Jared grandly as he saluted.
"Yes, well, try to keep the bloody street thing to a minimum, okay? People have to clean that up you know."
Jared and his posse gave sharp bows to their merciless ruler and then left the throne room to a chorus of clanking metal and jingling chain-mail. Clarence sighed. It was going to be a long day.
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The Evil Laugh was not going well. After breakfast Clarence had shut himself up in his bedroom and ordered that no one was to disturb him on pain of death. The Handbook said that every Evil Overlord had to perfect his Evil Laugh so that he could create a sinister aura and strike fear into his subject's hearts. No one was going to be intimidated by his Evil Laugh. He sounded like a mall Santa Clause who hadn't had a break all day and was starting to feel the strain. It was hopeless. Clarence had been trying for three hours and just couldn't seem to get it right. He slumped against the stone wall of his bedroom and slowly slid down to the floor. He pulled his knees in to his chest and buried his face in his hands. If he couldn't even do an Evil Laugh, how could he possibly do all the other things an Evil Overlord was supposed to do? His parents would be so disappointed in him if they could see him now. Overwhelmed by frustration and suffering from cripplingly low self esteem, Clarence began to cry.
At first it was just a few hot tears rolling silently down his cheeks, then it escalated into full-on, snotty, red-faced sobbing. After about ten minutes of this misery, Clarence heard a soft knock on his door. In a panic, he wiped his runny nose on his robes and dried his eyes with the tapestry hanging behind him.
"I thought I said no one is allowed to disturb me!" He tried to sound low and gruff, but the effect was rather ruined by his voice cracking halfway through.
The door tentatively creaked open and a young woman entered the bedroom. Clarence shot to his feet and tried his best to look powerful and menacing (and definitely not like he had just been crying).
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here?"
She turned to look at him but her eyes refused to meet his. "My apologies, young man. I did not mean to intrude, it's just that I heard crying and I..." She searched the air between them for understanding, her eyes darting back and forth as if she were at a loss. The young woman was pretty, Clarence noted, and she appeared to be a servant of some kind. She had light brown hair that was pleated into a long braid. Her dress, a faded light blue, fell halfway between her knees and the floor. Her sleeves stopped at her elbows, revealing sun kissed skin. For some reason, all of the noble women Clarence had met firmly believed that having the complexion of a ghost was attractive. He didn't have the heart to tell them that their deathly pale skin made them look sickly. This girl, however, obviously didn't fool around with parasols and bonnets. Her tan made her look healthy and strong. Why didn't the other women at court see this?
"Were you crying?" the girl asked softly, snapping Clarence back to his present situation.
"I don't see that it's any of your business," he said defensively.
"It's not a sin to cry," she said. "Tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help. At the very least-it feels good to talk to someone when you are sad."
"Do you know who I am?" despite his best efforts, Clarence's defenses were slipping and his voice was reverting back to its normal wimpy state. The truth was, he wanted to confide in her. He was so tired of being alone. Usually women made him nervous, but for some reason he felt perfectly at ease in this girl's presence.
"No, I do not. What is your name?"
He hesitated. Finally, so quietly he was surprised she could hear it, he said, "It's Clarence."
"Nice to meet you. My name is Theresa." Although she didn't seem to be frightened, she still wouldn't look him in the eyes. Instead, she was staring at his neck as she spoke. Something occurred to Clarence. He stepped closer to Theresa and slowly waved his hand in front of her face. Her eyes didn't follow it.
"Are you...are you blind?"
Theresa nodded once, "It happened ten years ago, when I was eight. I was in an accident." She didn't elaborate, so Clarence didn't pursue the topic further.
"What are you doing here? Do you work in the castle?"
"I wash and press clothes for the people who live here. I'm usually very good about finding my way around the castle, but it's just so large-I got lost. Then I heard crying from the hall and came in here."
Clarence thought for a moment. Here was someone who didn't know who he was-who he was supposed to be. He could tell Theresa about his problems, provided he didn't reveal too much, and she would think he was just some duke's son who lived in the castle. Here was his chance to be around someone with whom he could be himself and not worry about trying to act like the Evil Overlord. Clarence smiled. This could be the beginning of something great.
He took her elbow and led her over to a richly upholstered couch and sat down. Then they began to talk. Clarence told her some of the problems that had been bothering him (leaving out important context, of course) and she listened with the utmost compassion and sympathy. Theresa asked questions here and there, but mostly she just listened, which was something Clarence discovered he desperately needed. After he had exhausted himself by talking about his issues, he started asking her questions about her life.
Theresa told him about her childhood and how she came to work at the castle. She was sweet and humorous, making Clarence laugh more than once. When she finally had to leave to finish up her work for the day, Clarence escorted her out to the hall and directed her back into familiar territory.
Theresa turned to face him and put a hand on his forearm. "Thank you for helping me find the way back, and for confiding in me. I'm glad I met you. You're a kind person-keep your chin up."
Clarence smiled down at her. "No, thank you. Before today, I didn't have anyone I could talk to. It really helped-being able to tell someone. Do you...do you think we could meet up again sometime?" He asked, apprehensively.
Her laugh was warm and bright, "Of course we can. Just come and find me whenever you want to talk." With that, Theresa turned and walked away down the corridor, eventually disappearing through one of the many doors behind which the servants conducted their private lives, unseen by the people they served. Clarence went back in the direction of his rooms, whistling cheerfully and thinking about his new friend.
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