Kingdom of Iron: Tyrant's Fall

Matt woke the next morning with a mysteriously cheerful outlook on life.

He'd spent the night before practicing his mantras and working through the details of the negotiations that they had started the day before. The bones of a peace treaty had already been hammered out; now it was just down the remaining details. Then he would need to send the terms back to the Council for final approval, and the final phase of his campaign against the Alliance could begin.

With a tuneless whistle on his lips and unaccustomed amounts of optimism in his heart, Matt strode out of his tent a few moments later. His armor seemed to fit rather well, and he'd taken the time to adjust things so that he would make a much more impressive appearance this time. He carried his mace, as usual, and it felt a little more well-balanced in his hands.

The lifeguards outside his tent straightened up as he walked past them. He caught sight of them giving each other curious looks behind him, but he ignored it as he walked over to where Nelson was waiting.

Both Gorfeld and Captain Snolt were there as well, talking in low tones. His steward looked over with a look of profound resignation. "Good morning, sire."

Matt nodded back at him with a smile. "Good morning to you too, Gorfeld. Are we all ready for the day?"

Gorfeld nodded. "The others are already packed into the carriage and ready to go back to the parley." He hesitated. "You seem to be in… fine spirits today, sire."

Snolt snorted to himself. "He means you look like you first figured out what kissing was. Is she really that pretty, sire?"

His good mood dimmed a little, and he gave Gorfeld a narrow look. The steward shrugged. "It seems that there may have been a few different rumors about the… source of your happiness yesterday, sire."

Matt raised an eyebrow, in spite of the heat in his cheeks. "You'd think they would have something else to discuss."

"It was rather notable, sire." Gorfeld gave him a tight grin. Snolt almost looked ghoulish. As Matt felt the heat rise beneath his collar, the steward continued in an even voice. "Despite that, I would expect a Captain to have a bit more discretion."

Snolt raised an eyebrow at the Imp. "You can keep on expecting all you like, steward. You might need to get used to disappointment."

Matt ignored the scowl on Gorfeld's face and looked at the Goblin. "How did Nelson do yesterday? Did he behave himself?"

"Better than I did." The Captain chuckled. "He's ready for you, my liege, and raring to go."

Then he paused. "I might have a bit of information for you as well. In case you were curious."

Both Matt and Gorfeld gave him a surprised look. Matt found his voice first. "Information, Captain?"

Snolt coughed into his hand. "Yes, sire. While you were talking with the leaders, I might have made my way over to their camp. Strictly to engage in diplomatic exchanges, of course."

Matt raised an eyebrow, and the Captain grimaced. "There may have been some wagers made as well."

Gorfeld's voice could have frozen a pond. "I believe that challenges were forbidden under the terms of our visit."

"Challenges, not gambling." Snolt shrugged. "A man's tongue tends to loosen when he meets someone with plenty of coin to lose. They clam up after, when you've taken their pay for a few weeks, but while the cards are in their favor…"

First diplomacy and now espionage. Matt was having to adjust his view of Captain Snolt's skills. "What did you learn, Captain?"

Snolt grinned. "I might have figured out exactly what kind of soldiers we're looking at in their camp, sire. That, and a little bit about the skill of their leader."

Matt gestured for the Goblin to continue, and Snolt turned to point at some of the flags across the valley. "First, you've got the Line Companies, who call themselves the Lions. It looks like they are made up of a half-banner of pikes and a half-banner of longbows." Snolt shrugged. "Kind of a jumbled mess, but it seems like they work well enough."

Nodding slowly, Matt tried to picture how the unit would work. They could probably maneuver fairly flexibly on the battlefield, especially supported by their own ranged fighters. A bit more complex than a unit that was more narrowly focused, but none of Lucy's soldiers would be professional warriors with years of experience, anyway. "How many?"

"All of the banners with that diagonal slash at the bottom. I counted about twelve."

He nodded. It seemed like it would be a fairly decent backbone for the force camped here. Who knew how many more that she'd have elsewhere in the Pridelands? "What else?"

Snolt continued as they started to walked towards the carriage. "The Chargers and Men-At-Arms are gone now, and they took most of the best mounts with them. They don't have large groups of warbucks to throw at anyone. They do have plenty of greatelks, though, and she's gathered a bunch of them into something called a Dragoon Company. At least, that's what they were called at first, but most of them are just called the Lady's Hounds now."

Matt blinked. It was the kind of name that would get anyone's attention. "Really? What do they do?"

The Goblin shook his head. "They're kind of strange, actually. They wear swords and carry spears, but they also carry some of those longbows with them, and a lot of arrows. I don't think they'd ever be able to fire one from their mounts, though, so I'm not sure why they'd carry them."

Gorfeld frowned. "That does seem strange. Had you heard of anything like that, sire?"

With a shake of his head, Matt gestured for Snolt to continue. The Goblin shrugged. "Anyway, they have at least four of those banners. All the ones with that odd picture of a Warg's head on them. Just about all of the cavalry they have, really. Seems like a waste, but I guess they aren't going to be able to stand up to a solid charge, anyway."

Privately, Matt wondered if that was really the case. Lucy had to have fought against Chargers during the revolution, and these Hounds had probably contributed to it. "Anything else? It looks like a lot more there."

Snolt grinned. "Oh, those are not the only strange things, sire. There's another batch they call the Sparrow Company that use the rest of their mounts to drag some small carts around. Not sure what they're supposed to be."

Matt straightened up in alarm, but Snolt was already continuing on. "Most of the rest are called Strike Companies, when they aren't calling them Hawk Companies, at least. Just a bunch of peasants with polearms and grudges by the look of it. They wouldn't stand up very well against a banner of Irregulars, that's for sure."

Clamping down on his concerns—she couldn't have figured out gunpowder and cannon, could she?—Matt gestured to the largest of the banners. "What about them?"

The Goblin turned a little more sober, his eyes fixed on the flag that showed a very recognizable bird of prey. "That's the Eagle Company, sire. It's her personal detachment." He glanced at Matt. "I'd avoid getting in close to them. From what I've seen, they have the kind of discipline and skill that most nobles would envy."

Matt nodded, making a special note of the flag. The soldiers underneath it moved with the assurance of veterans, and they wore more armor than the others in the camp. Having a band of elite soldiers to protect her, or to at least be able to act as an emergency reserve during a desperate fight, seemed like an idea that Lucy would like. He thought Napoleon had done something similar, though he wasn't as familiar with that time period as she might have been.

He looked back at Snolt and grinned. "Thanks, Captain. I appreciate your work in… getting to know our potential friends, here."

Snolt grinned back at him. "Absolutely, sire. It's my pleasure." He flipped a coin in the air and caught it. "Besides, it turned out to be profitable enough in the end."

Matt rolled his eyes and then he swung himself up into Nelson's saddle. The warbuck shifted a little beneath him, though it seemed happy enough to have him back. He took a deep breath and looked at Gorfeld, who was clambering aboard the carriage.

Then he set his sights on the tent and started forward. It was going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

Matt's arrival was far less disorganized the second time.

He entered alongside Tiridine and Mulwan, both of whom were looking in all directions for signs of threats. Gorfeld entered just behind him, his steward's eyes just as alert. The rest of the Humans filed in after him, their eyes lit with excitement for the coming discussion.

Lucy was waiting for him, a slight smile on her lips. The same Knights that had accompanied her before were lined up on either side of her. Her bodyguards had their hands on their weapons, but only in a sort of professional caution that mirrored his own lifeguards' attitudes. From what he could see, the rest of the Knights were still murmuring over various sheets of parchment, apparently more intent on last-minute details than on the arrival of a possible threat.

Matt smiled and stepped forward, intending to start the day's work with another handshake. Lucy stepped forward as well, her own hand already coming up to meet with his own. Behind him, the last of his party followed him into the tent, with Miguel and Balred stepping in alongside Tanya.

As the Maiden of Art entered, another cold gust of wind filled the tent. He saw the cloth billow and shift as the air brushed across it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the chill cooled the sweat there, and he started to glance backwards to complain.

Then Tanya spoke, a single clear word. "Cloaking."

It was a codeword, one that Matt had agreed on with his lifeguards and the rest of his inner circle. The incident at the museum had convinced him that an explanation might be too long for a situation where invisible assassins were closing in. A single phrase in English wasn't likely to cross anyone's speech, especially when most of them didn't even know the word's meaning.

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English or not, the word provoked an immediate response. Miguel stepped in front of Tanya, and Balred shoved his way forward. The Leaffall's magic spun up around him as his sword left the sheath. Air blasted in multiple directions, forming a shifting storm of conflicting currents of air. His other lifeguards shoved the rest of the Humans down, their own hands going to their weapons. Matt had just enough time to look forward and see a trio of different illusions of himself dodging in multiple directions, courtesy of Mulwan.

Across the tent, Lucy's bodyguards were also reacting. Their weapons were being drawn, but their eyes weren't searching for threats. Instead, they were locked on his own guards, clearly seeing treachery afoot. Lucy herself had stepped back, her hand reaching for her sword, and her eyes locked on his. Mulwan's illusions did not appear to have fooled her at all. He lunged forward, his hands on his mace, and hoped he could move fast enough.

Then the sound of firing crossbows filled the tent, and shouts and screams tore the air.

Three of Lucy's bodyguards fell, crossbow bolts standing out from their armor. Another whirled around and was smashed aside by an invisible foe. Matt saw ripples of people moving behind a cloak of false light, all coming towards the center of the room. The images that looked like him abruptly vanished, shattering into a shimmering mist.

He reached Lucy moments before the first assassin. She had drawn her sword, but shock and uncertainty froze her in place for a moment. Matt snarled and swung his mace at the indistinct shape, aiming to try to intercept whatever was coming at him.

The impact nearly knocked the mace from his hands, but he gritted his teeth and brought his arms back for another swing. Wind howled around him, intensifying to the point that the mist concealing his opponent wavered, revealing more of the assassin's outline. He caught the hint of a long sword, held in one hand, tilted back and away from him.

Matt swung horizontally, aiming more to intercept the cut than to hit the assassin. Another impact nearly knocked his weapon aside, and he heard an incredulous curse from his opponent. A half-visible hand grabbed at his shoulder, jerking him forward with utterly terrifying strength. He saw the sword rise again.

Then Lucy's sword flashed past his shoulder and drove into the indistinct torso of the man. The grip on Matt's shoulder abruptly loosened, and he swung hard at around leg height. Something snapped, and the figure dropped to the grass with a choked gurgle.

Matt turned and saw another shape coming at them from the other side. He shoved Lucy to the side, ignoring her squawk of protest, and smacked a thrust aside. A near-invisible blade slid past his arm, cutting a slit in his sleeve. The figure recoiled just in time for Balred to arrive a heartbeat later, his sword slashing through the mist and unleashing a spray of blood.

The intervention gave Matt enough time to glance in the direction of the others. His heart froze as he caught sight of bodies on the ground. Jordan had covered Jessica with his body. Alicia had her sword out, and was holding it out in front of her, eyes wide with panic. Riley was on the ground, her hands over her head. Rethferd had intercepted another assassin just short of her; Tiridine bisected the invisible killer with a roar.

Mulwan was down, a crossbow bolt in her side. A pang of grief ran through him, one that was dwarfed a moment later as he caught sight of Gorfeld.

The steward was lying motionless as a pool of blood stained the grass beneath him. There were two bolts in him, and he was face down. A knife was in the grass, just a stride away from the Imp's hand.

A guttural roar left Matt's mouth, and he lunged forward as another assassin slid around Balred and his opponent. He brought his mace down hard. The assassin stabbed at him; he barely saw the tip of the weapon lash out at his face. Only a last-second twist knocked the thing aside. Matt pushed forward, trying to keep them from using the uncertain distance.

Then the assassin punched him across the face, knocking him back. Light flared inside of the tent as Tanya screamed; heat washed across his back. He staggered, seeing the mist fall away from the attackers. The man in front of him held a short spear and dark armor; a scarf had been wrapped around the man's face, though it failed to conceal the too-large eyes of a Knight or Wizard.

The assassin lunged forward, but they jerked to the side as Lucy stabbed at his face. He started to turn and lash out at her, but Lucy evaded the stab and spun. She brought her dagger up in her hand to slash at the man's groin. A curse rang out as the assassin jerked backward.

Matt seized the chance to dart forward, his mace clutched in both hands. He swung as hard as he could, putting every ounce of strength behind the strike. The assassin tried to defend himself, but the mace caught him square in the lower chest. Ribs broke and the assassin half-collapsed. As they staggered, Lucy drove her sword into a gap in the man's armor, between his head and shoulder. He fell a moment later.

As Matt turned to help Balred, the snap of crossbow bolts filled the air again. Matt's breath caught in his throat as more crossbow bolts appeared, but Balred's magic spun them out of the way. The Leaffall Orc finished his own opponent a heartbeat later, relieving the woman of her head and striding towards the remaining assassins who were reloading their crossbows at the edge of the tent.

Of those three, one died a moment later as one of Lucy's bodyguards returned fire. As they slumped to their knees, the other two spun and slashed at the cloth of the tent, trying to open holes for them to escape. Rethferd caught one of them, cutting through flesh and armor with a single brutal swing.

Matt staggered towards the hole that the other leaped through, but Balred shoulder-checked him. The lifeguard gave him a stern look. "The others can chase them, sire."

He gave the Orc an angry glare, but the lifeguard ignored him and looked around the tent. The few remaining assassins were down; half the opposite side of the tent was on fire, as were three more once-hidden bodies there. Tanya added another burst of flame a moment later, beforel Miguel pulled her away. The big man had a crossbow bolt in his shoulder, and he was wavering on his feet.

The sight of the wound brought reality back to him in a rush. He turned and looked at Gorfeld. A heartbeat later, he was at the steward's side, without any real memory of having crossed the distance. His knees grew wet in the grass as he knelt; he couldn't tell whether it was the morning dew or the Imp's blood.

Matt reached out to move the Imp over onto his back, and he grimaced as the Imp took a shuddering, pained breath. He looked up to call Alicia over, only to find that she was already there, her eyes intent. It took an effort to swallow and speak. "Is he—"

"I don't know." She shook her head. "We need to get him out of here. Mulwan and Miguel too."

He looked up, gritting his teeth. His escort hadn't included any medical personnel. It hadn't seemed like it would be necessary, since if there was any combat, there wouldn't be time. "Go. Get him back to camp."

"Wait."

Matt looked back at Lucy. She was standing with her bloodied sword and dagger, watching him across the corpse-strewn tent. Of her own eight escorts, five of them were down, and four weren't moving at all. Her face was as grim as his own. "We have medics back at our camp. Bring your wounded there. We can treat them until they are well enough to travel."

For a moment, Matt hesitated. Putting them in her camp meant surrendering control over them. Miguel and Mulwan alone would have enough secrets to cripple his Kingdom. If she got to Gorfeld…

His steward gave a weak, rattling cough, and Matt nodded. "Fine. I'm sending at least one of my lifeguards with them."

Lucy nodded, her eyes sober. She looked around the tent for another moment as the flames burned themselves out. "Good. I don't think any of us should be alone right now. Not until we know what is going on."

An hour later, with the wounded receiving treatment and the dead laid to rest, Matt and Lucy were sitting in a different tent.

It had been set up a short distance from the wreckage of the first, and it was open on one side so that both armies could see into it. A table had been set up between two chairs; Matt and Lucy were the only ones sitting down.

None of their advisors were present. Lucy had two of her Eagle Company in attendance, while Matt had taken Tiridine and Rethferd. Balred had gone with Gorfeld and the others to make sure they were safe, as if a vengeful Tanya wasn't already snarling at anyone who was in any way threatening around Miguel. As long as there wasn't another explosion of flame, Matt could feel secure in the fact that they were at least getting all the care that they needed.

If only he could be sure of anything else.

Lucy set down a parchment that she'd been reading. A bandage now decorated her shoulder; apparently one of the assassins had gotten to her with a blade. At the very least, it hadn't been poisoned. "Wizards and Knights, apparently."

Matt grimaced, his finger tapping rapidly on the table between them. "The Wizards were from the Greymarches?"

She nodded. "The Knights were from the Pridelands. Dissidents and escaped nobles." Lucy looked out over their armies, studying the remains of the first tent. "Apparently, they caught wind of the meeting here and decided to go for both of us at once."

"We are an attractive target." Matt shook his head. He should have anticipated another strike. How often did an assassin have the chance to gain the Divine Right over two different nations in a single attack? "Did the runner get away?"

Lucy shook her head. "No. One of your soldiers rode them down. A Captain Snolt, I believe?" She glanced up at him. "Give him my complements, when you get the chance."

Matt drew in a breath and then let it out. He knew better than to ask if Snolt had taken the assassin alive. "I will."

Then he looked out over the valley and sighed. "Maybe our next meeting should be in a slightly more secure place."

She winced. "I… apologize. I thought that a more open location would make it less likely that you would feel trapped."

He gave her a smile. "You were right. After all, anything that makes it hard for an assassin to get in makes it just as hard for us to get out."

"True enough." She spent a moment picking at the edge of the table. "Your steward. You were close?"

Matt felt a twinge of grief run through him. "We are close, yes." He felt his jaw clench for a moment. "He's the one who brought me here originally, to tell you the truth. I've always been able to trust him."

Lucy's eyes narrowed, though he didn't think she was focused entirely on him. Her expression suggested she was more in her own thoughts. "They focused on him. More than on any of your guards."

He hesitated, not entirely wanting to reveal the extent of Gorfeld's abilities. "That is true."

She tilted her head, looking at him again. "He brought you here, which means he probably has some kind of transportation ability." He didn't respond, and she grimaced. "Could they have been trying to keep you here? Prevent you from leaving that way?"

Matt opened his mouth to deny it and then paused. If anyone would know about Gorfeld's abilities, it would have been the Wizards of the Greymarches. After all, the Imp had been present at Greyhenge, and had kept Matt from falling victim to the destruction he had called down there. If there had been any survivors, or if anyone had mentioned that Gorfeld had been the last to return alongside Matt himself…

He looked up and saw her watching him. "Yes, that could be possible. It isn't widely known, though."

Lucy frowned. "Why would they want to trap you here, though? If they thought they could kill you, it would have been better to shoot you instead, wouldn't it?"

A bitter sense of irony worked its way into Matt's gut. If he had survived just because of a misguided sense of priorities on behalf of his killers, it would be an unpleasant benefit of the entire thing.

Then he paused. He thought back to when the very first assassins had nearly killed him in Redspire. They hadn't wanted to kill him immediately; if anything, they had wanted to drag him back to where Suluth could finish the job. If they had been cautious not to take Suluth's prize for themselves, how much more would they want to be careful with two different Divine Rights?

An even better question was who they expected to serve up those Rights to when it was all done. If there was a leader from the former nobles of the Pridelands or someone from the Greymarches nearby, they might be vulnerable to a return strike. He indulged in a brief fantasy of getting that revenge for himself and Gorfeld, picturing a surprised Wizard falling under his mace.

Then he shook his head, dismissing the daydream. Even as things stood, he had more important things to worry about now. "Do we still move forward with our negotiations?"

Lucy looked at him in surprise. She glanced at her guards, as if gauging their reactions. "You want to continue?"

He nodded. "The peace between us is something important. If they can stop it, then we'll remain fighting between ourselves instead of going after the people responsible for this." Then he grimaced. "Besides, there's nothing I can do for them now."

She studied him another moment. Then she nodded. "I suppose we can finish the basics of the agreement now. Then the remainder can be settled by other negotiators. After all, the most important parts… are…"

Her voice trailed off, and Matt followed her gaze. He blinked as he saw a Warg come sprinting across the valley, speeding along the grass at a rate that would have mocked any of the heavier mounts. Matt frowned at it for a moment before he recognized it. "Gwelfed."

"Who?" He looked back and saw Lucy watching him carefully. Her guards had tensed as well.

Matt stood and dusted off his tunic. "One of my best scouts. Captain Snolt probably had her take a look around the area, just in case there were more surprises waiting for us." He saw Lucy come to her feet as well. She followed him as he walked out to meet the Goblin as she rode in closer.

The Grimfen Goblin was panting hard as she drew even with him, and her mount practically flopped on its belly the moment she swung herself out of the saddle. She paused just long enough to give it a fond, sympathetic stroke of one hand. Then she saluted him. "Sire. I have news."

Matt felt a sinking feeling in his stomach before he even gestured for her to continue. "Tell me. Enemies?"

She nodded, her eyes wide. "An army, sire. At least twenty banners." Gwelfed shook her head. "They're already between us and Bridgeton."

Her eyes went to Lucy, and then back to him. "And they are already on their way here. It won't be long."