Kingdom of Iron: Tyrant's Fall

Matt watched as Captain Rordine led his army into the clearing in front of Castel Mornal. The Red Moon noble was leading a reassuringly significant force, though it was here far sooner than he'd expected. There were three banners of Bloodsworn, the heavy infantry that the most skilled Red Moon nobles were known for, backed by nearly five banners of Red Guard. Two banners of Shadow Hunter rode alongside them, with another three of High Guard and two more of Hill Guard. There was even a banner of Winterknights, riding along unhappily with sweat on the flanks of their icestags.

He watched the assembled army move towards the portion of the field that had been cleared for their arrival. They joined a sizable force of Revolutionaries that had gathered there as well. While some of the banners had taken enough casualties at the Battle of Rohlplains that Lucy had sent them away to recover, others had joined her in their place. Her own forces now numbered three banners of Hounds, two of Sparrows, seven of Hawks, and ten of Lions. The Eagle Company, of course, remained, with a number of new faces to replace the dead or wounded.

The prisoners had been led away, sent to some spot that the Order of Lion's Roar had once used to jail their dissidents. Matt wasn't sure about Lucy calling it New Bastille, but it was her country, after all. At least it was better than the Tower of Blood.

Still chuckling over the thought, Matt made his way down the stairs towards the front gate. The doors had opened to welcome the arriving troops, though only a handful appeared to be approaching the castle itself. It was just as well that they were starting to make camp outside the fort; there certainly wasn't enough space inside for them.

When he reached the gate, he found a small cluster of soldiers waiting for him. Rordine was at their head; he gave Matt a sloppy salute, even as his single eye moved over the Knights in the courtyard. He seemed expect treachery from any one of them at any moment, and his hand remained locked around the hilt of the axe he carried.

The other five were new faces, though not entirely unfamiliar. They gave far more crisp salutes, though some of them glanced at Rordine in apparent dismay. Matt nodded to them. "Welcome to Mornal Castle." He looked at Rordine. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Captain. I hadn't expected you to be here yet."

Rordine's eye narrowed. He shrugged. "Morteth decided to order us to Bridgeton early, sire. Not sure what his idea was, but at least we were able to arrive that much quicker."

"I'm sure Margrave Morteth was anticipating that I'd need you." Matt paused. "I'd actually hoped that you would bring Margrave Grufen with you. Was he delayed?"

One of the other Captains, another Red Moon Orc with the armor of a Red Guard, nodded. "Yes, my liege. There was a disturbance of some kind north of Celriiston, so he should be a day behind us."

Rordine gave the other Orc a gimlet stare. "I'm sure the King has better things to do than hear excuses, Captain Tirsen." The Red Guard Captain stiffened at the implied rebuke, but Matt spoke up before either of them could.

"Thank you for the information, Captain Tirsen." He looked at the next officer. "Captain… Dulith, I believe?"

The Blackleaf Goblin blinked. She grinned and nodded. "Yes, my liege. I'm surprised you recognized me."

"I think I remember seeing you at the Battle of the Forks. You fought well. I'm glad to see you here." He looked at the next captain. "I remember you as well, but I don't entirely remember your name. You were Captain Vumorth's bannerman, weren't you?"

The High Imp's face split in a thin smile. He nodded stiffly. "I was, sire. My name is Erlick. I command the Fourth, now."

Matt nodded and then turned to the last two. A Gnome and a Frost Elf, neither were familiar, and they kept giving each other unfriendly looks. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Captains…"

The Gnome stepped forward first. "Damenfurd, sire. We'll be with you for the mountain fighting."

"Glad to hear it." He looked at the Elf, who seemed a bit put off at being left for last.

"My name is Captain Maysellein." She turned her attention back to him, her eyes narrow. "You killed my father."

Matt blinked. It wasn't the most comforting introduction. "I see." He glanced at Rordine, who appeared to be inspecting the castle.

She shrugged. "It is not a problem. All things end."

While he wasn't sure he'd call the attitude healthy, it was good enough for the moment. He'd just have to watch his back more closely during the campaign. Not that he was ever going to give anyone an opening for a swift promotion.

He cleared his throat. "In any case, I'm glad you're all here." Matt looked back at the castle. "We'll have a meeting this afternoon to discuss the campaign. Captain Rordine, do you have anything for me from Bridgeton? Did Morteth or Grufen send you any information?"

Rordine turned his single eye back to Matt. There was a hint of malice in the stare now. "No, sire. Only that he would be delayed."

Matt watched him for a moment, debating whether he should call his apparently respected commander a flat-out liar. Instead, he just nodded. "In that case, I'll leave detailed orders for him. For now, let's get your troops settled and supplied, and then come to the castle. The servants will show you where to go."

Rordine and the others nodded, and Matt gestured for them to go. He watched them for another few minutes, wondering to himself how likely it would be that one of them would try to backstab him. He'd been gone from Redspire too long for the nobility not to try to arrange something to interfere with his plans. A part of him felt a flicker of regret for relaxing so long in the Pridelands, but he fought that down and headed for the tower. They had a war to win. Everything else could wait until that was done.

It wasn't the most hostile war council that Matt had attended, but it was close.

The captains from his army had arrived relatively on time, though Rordine had looked a little irritated by it. Matt's guess was that he'd probably wanted to arrive late, but the others hadn't bought in with the idea. Now he was settling for glaring at every Knight within view.

His special focus for his discontent appeared to be Lucy. She had arrived with commanders from her own forces, and they were staring at his captains with just as much distrust as his were eying them. Several of them had hands on weapons, and the guards that had accompanied him and Lucy were tense, attempting to figure out if any of the assembled warriors were close to breaking. Murmurs filled the room as the two sides spoke in low voices, probably about each other. Only the fact that a broad table with a map pinned to it divided the two sides kept things from getting that much worse.

All told, it was an excellent way to come together to coordinate a complicated military operation.

Matt sighed and looked at Lucy. "Do you wish to start, my lady, or should I?"

The question brought a stillness to the room. Lucy looked at him and smiled. "Go ahead, King Matthew."

He nodded and stepped forward. It was an effort not to reach for the ash in his pocket as various soldiers tensed. "Over the rest of the summer and fall, we will be working together to bring down the members of the Alliance that remain. They are a threat, not only to my Kingdom, but also the Pridelands, and they've already shown a willingness to try assassination or invasion to resolve things."

Grumbles of resentment still started up on both sides of the table, but Matt didn't wait for them to settle down. "For that reason, we need to take care of three main areas of concern."

He leaned forward to tap the spot east of the Pridelands and south of the Grim Hollows, which was marked with the name of the Greymarches. "The first, and least important, is the Greymarches. They are currently stuck in a civil war thanks to the destruction of their capital and the loss of most of their leaders." Matt left the fact that he had been responsible for those deaths unspoken; memories of Greyhenge danced in his mind for a moment before he continued.

"Despite that, they are still a threat for two reasons. First, they still have some forces willing to be mercenaries or assassins for the rest of the Alliance. Second, their territory can be used by another member of the Alliance, the Circle of Heaven, to attack the Pridelands."

Rordine snorted. "And why should we, the warriors of the Kingdom, care about that, sire?"

Matt gave the Orc a stern look. "Because if they launch an attack strong enough, they might be able to fight their way through the Pridelands to reach the Sortenmoors. Besides, the last thing we want is for the Alliance to regain control here."

The Orc settled back into his seat with a huff, and Matt turned back to the map. His finger tapped at Bridgeton before traveling east along the Blackstone. "To deal with that threat, I'll be instructing Margrave Grufen to leave a small garrison at Bridgeton and march on the Greymarches. He'll be supported by some of the banners here, as well as most of the current Bridgeton garrison. His mission will be to launch raids into the Greymarches and prevent any armies from gathering or appearing on the borders there. Once we deal with our other concerns, we'll be in position to deal with both factions of Wizards."

He looked across the table to Lucy, who nodded and stepped forward. "The second area of concern is the territory of the Order of Ravens." She picked up a small straight stick and used it to point across the table at the southwestern border of the Pridelands. "As members of the Alliance, they are hostile to both the Kingdom and the Revolution. They've currently taken enough losses that they are still trying to recover, but once they do, they are likely to either launch raids on the Pridelands, or to slip forces through our nation to attack Bridgeton."

She moved the tip of the stick east a short distance, circling a pair of castles. "Our plan for now is to make sure that they can't move through our territory in force. We'll send reinforcements to Murson and Gevweir Castles and instruct them to either drive them back or put pressure on their own territory. Most of the banners involved will come from other areas of the Pridelands, but if things change, we may need to send some of you there as well."

Matt heard more grumbles start up, but he spoke before they could. "The third area is the strongholds of the Onyx Clans, here." He tapped an area of the map north of the Ravens' territory. "The Dwarves, like the Ravens, are members of the Alliance, and they've suffered extremely heavy losses. Their territory also borders the lands of the Alterian Elves, the most recent members of the Alliance. If we can compel their surrender, then we can prevent the Elves from participating in most of the rest of the war."

Captain Tirsen stirred. "Sire, aren't we at peace with the Alterians?"

He gave the Orc a smile. "On our own territory, yes. Anywhere else…" There were more mutters as he shrugged. "Any damage we do to them hurts the rest of the Alliance, so don't hold back unless they run back to their forests."

Tirsen nodded, and Lucy tapped the map with her stick again. "Our main goal for the next campaign will be to force the Onyx Clans to surrender and then turn on the Ravens from the north. Once both nations are either subdued or surrender, we'll turn east and deal with the rest. Any questions?"

One of the Knights on her side raised their hand. She pointed at the man. "Yes, Commander Pulth?"

Pulth glanced at Matt's side of the table before speaking. "May I ask who will be in command, my lady?"

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Matt and Lucy exchanged a look. The answer to the question had been one of considerable debate the previous two days. Lucy was the one who responded, her voice carefully controlled. "When we are in the Pridelands, I will command. In the territory of the enemy, King Matthew will be in charge."

More disgruntled murmurs followed the announcement, but Matt could hear some grudging acceptance of the terms. None of them were happy, but that was the nature of compromise. In reality, it wasn't going to matter that much. Between the two of them, Lucy knew the ground in the Pridelands, and he had more experience attacking an enemy settlement, even if it had been just a few villages and forts. They weren't about to ignore the experience each of them had, not when the lives of their troops were on the line.

Eventually, the mutters died down, and Matt spoke into the silence that followed. "Today, we are going to gather the supplies we need. Tomorrow, our armies will march. Be ready with your troops to respond to the orders you are given. If we fight well enough, then the enemy will never know what hit them. Any questions?"

There were none. He looked around the room one last time and then looked at Lucy. They nodded, and she spoke. "Then you're all dismissed."

The officers began to file out of the room, which almost created an incident all its own as Knights tried to shuffle past his Kingdom's captains. Tirsen nearly nudged a Knight and had to stare down a snarling woman in Hound's armor; Rordine glared at a belligerent man in armor that suggested he was a Hawk.

Eventually, however, they had all gone, leaving Matt and Lucy alone with their guards. Matt gave her a weary smile. "You think we'll be able to keep away from each other's throats?"

Lucy spread her arms. "Sometimes I ask that about my own people, let alone yours." She stretched, and something in her back popped. "Are you still sending Gorfeld and the others north?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. They're taking about a fourth of my lifeguards with them, so they should be safe." He also hoped that they'd be able to move carefully enough to keep out of trouble. Miguel was saying he'd figured out a Source, as had Alicia, but that was a long way from being combat capable. "Hopefully, they'll be able to tell me more about what's happening in Redspire."

She tilted her head. "Trouble at home?"

"I'm… concerned about the lack of news." He shook his head. "It's probably nothing, but I can't help worrying about it."

Lucy nodded. "You and me both. The House of the People is normally pretty decent at staying out of trouble—as long as I'm right there staring at them. The moment I leave, though…" She rolled her eyes. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about Riley workshopping new nicknames for me. Did you hear the latest one?"

"No." He tried not to sound amused, but it still leaked through. "What was it?"

"Apparently, I'm the Maiden of Blood, now. Like I'm some kind of vampire." She made a show of smiling widely. "See any fangs?"

Matt snorted. "Not yet." He shook his head. "Still, it would fit in with my titles. Maybe I should be glad that she hasn't tried it on me yet."

She laughed lightly and moved towards the door. "What title would you even want, anyway? The Iron King? The King of Steel? Oh, I know, the Great Conqueror."

He walked over to lean back against the table, folding his arms. "I really haven't conquered much, you know. Most of my fights have been on defense, or putting down rebellions."

"Conqueror of Iron, then." She chuckled. "Better than Tyrant at least?"

He raised his eyebrows and waggled his head a little. "I guess so. Not bad—not that anyone's going to use that." Matt sighed. "Yours would be way easier."

Lucy turned and backed away, still grinning. "Oh really? What will I be? The Maiden of Battle? Maiden of Law? The Maiden of Iron, like some rock song?"

"I think Margaret Thatcher would object." Matt smiled as an idea occurred to him. "Why not the Maiden of Victory? At least you won't have any competitors there."

She paused. Then she flushed and looked away. "I don't hate that one, at least. It seems like it's asking for trouble, though."

Matt smirked and pushed himself off the table. "As if that would stop you." He stuck out his hand and took hers. She rolled her eyes as he bowed over it with a flourish. "Now, if you'll excuse me, oh Avatar of Triumph?"

Lucy gave him a half-serious glare, her cheeks a darker shade than he'd ever seen. "So now I don't have Riley to worry about, just you. Is that it?"

"Better than forgetting I'm here, I guess." Matt grinned, and then realized he was still holding her hand. He let go and stepped past her. "See you at dinner."

She nodded, and Matt walked down the hallway. He made it partway to the rooms where Gorfeld lay before he caught a bit of the muttering between Balred and Tiridine. The Orcs were hissing at each other in half-whispers that he had to strain to hear.

"It's so obvious! Of course he'd want—"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. There's always—"

Matt almost glanced back, but stopped himself. He felt a bit of heat in his own cheeks as he realized he probably should have been a bit more careful about throwing titles around. If he was lucky, the lifeguards wouldn't spread it any further. Otherwise, it was going to be all over Castle Mornal before he'd reached the evening meal.

With a put-upon sigh, he continued on his way. Hopefully, the others wouldn't put up a fuss about returning to Redspire. The last thing he needed was to take the whole lot of them into a warzone.

By the time the army set out the next day, Matt was starting to feel eager about the oncoming campaign.

Part of it came from the scale of the operation. He hadn't marched at the head of an army of similar size since the Battle of the Forks. Not only that, but this time, he was finally going to be fighting on the ground of the enemy, taking their territory rather than frantically defending his own. The difference seemed to be incredible, from his perspective.

The fact that Tanya and the others hadn't objected to being packed up and sent back to the capital had been a relief as well. He'd phrased it as giving them a chance to get access to spells in the palace libraries, as well as guarding Gorfeld on the journey back, and he thought it had worked. At the very least, the lifeguards were happy enough to escort them, especially once he'd had a few words with Harak and Waithaana. He'd sent along a few messages with them as well, hoping that a heavily guarded carriage would make sure the information reached Redspire safely.

Getting the army in motion had been an exercise in patience. Despite being warned the previous day, plenty of the officers had apparently misspent the preceding hours, and delays had plagued their formerly early start. For once, Rordine was ready to go exactly on time, and Matt overheard the Orc cursing about 'peasants and serflings' slowing down the real professionals. By the time they set out, the sun was already fairly high in the sky, which meant they likely wouldn't reach the Dwarves before night fell.

They had only started on the path west, however, when a cluster of riders came galloping across the fields to the north. He looked at them curiously, only to find that they were flying a familiar flag. Matt glanced at his lifeguards and found Snolt peering at the riders as well. "Captain, does that look like Grufen's heraldry?"

"It does, sire." The Goblin nodded. "That looks like Gwelfed out front, too. They look like they've been riding hard."

As the small band drew even with the column, Matt could see that the Captain of the Royal First's assumption had been correct. Gwelfed's Warg looked like she was halfway to falling over, and the greatelks and dogelks the others were riding didn't look much better.

All the same, Matt saw an expression of grim triumph on Grufen's face as the Margrave approached. He gestured for the lifeguards to let the Orc through, which they grudgingly did. "Lord Grufen. I'm surprised you were able to catch us up."

"It wasn't easy, sire." Grufen looked around. His gaze paused when he found Captain Rordine, marching along a short distance away. "My journey was… complicated. Do you have a moment?"

Matt gave him a look. Grufen's face might as well have been carved from granite, which didn't exactly suggest anything good. "All right. Captain Snolt, keep the troops marching. My retinue and I will rejoin the column shortly."

Snolt nodded, and Matt turned Nelson out of the column's path. He left the road with Grufen still at his side, and they trotted for a while until he was relatively sure that eavesdroppers would find it hard to overhear anything. Some of the soldiers' eyes followed him, but Matt just waved and nodded at them.

Once they had retreated far enough into a field, Matt turned to Grufen. "I'm guessing that you didn't get distracted by something up north."

Grufen grimaced. "Is that what he told you? No. Captain Rordine managed to slip away without informing me. We were supposed to have marched together. The bastard even stole some of our carts and supplies to make sure we were delayed."

Matt grimaced. The last thing he wanted was this kind of pettiness in his armies now. "Are your forces close?"

The Margrave nodded. "Yes, sire. I have nearly the whole garrison, and enough supplies to reach just about anywhere in the Pridelands. Just as you ordered."

"Good." Matt looked around the field, reassuring himself that the only ears nearby belonged to some kind of corn. "I left more detailed orders for you at Castle Mornal, but here's the gist. I want you to march to the eastern borders of the Pridelands and start pushing them back there."

Grufen's expression flickered. "We'll be fairly isolated there, sire."

Matt nodded. "Which is exactly why I need you there. The Revolutionaries are our allies now, in a way, so you shouldn't have to worry about them. Still, I want someone there I can trust to… handle any complications, as well as someone who won't push the Wizards too far or too fast."

The Orc nodded slowly. "I see." He looked back towards the column. "And you are headed west, then?"

"To finish the enemies there, yeah." Matt twitched at Nelson's reins. The warbuck calmed a little; apparently, he didn't like being in a field with a bunch of half-hidden Wargs around. "Once we do, you'll receive reinforcements, and we can start pushing east until the remaining nations are crushed. Can you see any holes in the plan?"

Grufen shook his head. "No, sire." Then he looked back at the column. "Except for some problems that you might carry with you."

Matt grimaced. He'd been afraid of something like this. "What is it, Grufen?"

The Hard Scythe Orc looked back at him. "Captain Rordine was ordered to come to Bridgeton for a reason, sire. He had apparently been… agitating in Redspire. He managed to collect the loyalties of quite a few members of the Council, and he clashed regularly with the Voices on various issues. Margrave Morteth ordered him to bring his army south so that he would have a more limited influence on the situation."

As he thought through the possibilities in those words, Matt nodded slowly. "I see."

Grufen continued in a low voice. "It is probably fortunate that he was not present for the vote on the treaty. It was already a close situation; the Voices had to intervene to prevent various measures from being voted on to obstruct it."

Matt looked at Gwelfed, who looked only a little less exhausted than her Warg. She nodded wearily. "He's right, sire. The nobles were… unhappy with a few things, to say the least. The debate took up a whole day. After I rode poor Melfie here half to death, too."

He grimaced. "Thank you, Gwelfed, you did well." Then he looked at Grufen. "How bad is it?"

The Margrave thought it over for a disturbingly long amount of time. "Most of his supporters are among the parts of the Kingdom that have not agreed to the Angru Declaration. There are a handful of them from the malcontents in the other areas, but they mostly come from the Red Moons, High Imps, and Blackleafs."

It was not the best combination to have lined up against him. They controlled three of the strongest, least damaged parts of the Kingdom. "Has Lord Torth joined them?"

"No, sire." Grufen shook his head. "He and Morteth appear to have forced a split in the High Imp nobility, which has been keeping things from growing worse. The Goblins are fairly divided as well; they have apparently chosen now, of all times, to debate their replacement for Suluth."

Matt snorted. He shifted in his saddle. "Let me guess. One candidate supports the Declaration, the other does not."

"Very astute, sire."

For a moment, Matt rubbed at the bridge of his nose. It was moments like this, where his head ached, that he abruptly wanted to return to Mornal and take up studying the mantras again. Surely it wasn't…

His thoughts trailed off for a moment. A slow, dawning horror infiltrated his mind as he focused on that mild headache. Was it actually just a sign of stress? Or was the Oath trying to warn him about his duties?

The more he focused on it, the less certain he felt. It wasn't nearly on the level that it had reached when the Copper Hills had been occupied. Did that mean it was just less of a problem, or was it just an actual headache brought on by stress and frustration? If he ignored it and continued on, was he going to collapse because of a revolt in his Kingdom several days' travel away?

"Sire?"

Grufen's voice sounded so earnestly concerned that Matt blinked in surprise. He looked up, suddenly aware that he'd been silent for far too long. When he looked around, the lifeguards had turned to stare at him as well, their eyes intent.

"My apologies, Grufen. I was… thinking." He shook his head. "Is there anything else I should know? Do you believe they are close to revolt?"

The Margrave shook his head. "Not yet, sire. It appears they are still consolidating their forces. They may also wish to have some military success to attach their hopes to."

"Thus Rordine's eagerness to march west." Matt suppressed an urge to send the man south to watch the Ravens' border. Better to have him right where Matt could see him.

Grufen nodded. "That's likely true, sire." He hesitated. Then he sighed. "All the same, there are other kinds of unrest as well. The serfs in those areas where the Declaration was not passed are beginning to be… unhappy."

The tone that Grufen used made a sudden feeling of dread congeal in Matt's stomach. "How unhappy?"

"There have been… protests?" Grufen shook his head. "Apparently, they received the idea from one of the Maidens. They gather and hold signs and such."

Matt groaned. "Jessica." He pinched at his nose again. The headache had not faded.

"That's not all. Once the details of the treaty were proclaimed, we began to see escapes." Grufen shrugged uncomfortably while the Low Folk in both retinues exchanged silent looks. "There have already been several groups who've tried to cross the Blackstone into the Pridelands with their families. Meanwhile, revolutionaries are coming from the Pridelands and claiming freeholdership in the Kingdom. It is all very… unsettled."

He nodded. The discomfort in Grufen's voice was very understandable, given what the unrest had led to in Lucy's revolution. "I'll try to handle it, once we finish this. Thank you for telling me, Grufen. You've once again justified my trust in you."

Grufen reached over and shook Matt's hand. He looked a little relieved, as if he had been glad to pass the burden of the news onto someone else. "Good fortune in your campaign, sire. All of the Kingdom will look forward to your return."

Privately, Matt doubted that was the case, but at the very least he would be glad to be done with war for a while. He'd killed far too many people already, and it was sounding like if he didn't go home soon, there would be even more to deal with there. "And good fortune to you, Margrave."

As Grufen and his retinue turned back north, where his banners were undoubtedly still marching toward Mornal, Matt turned his own group back towards the column. A sense of urgency was now accompanying the subtle pain in his head. Now, more than ever, he needed this war to end.