“Slade, too?” Max asked. “I don’t know. He came into the game really confident. Can’t say I’m seeing much difference.”

“It’s just that he’s gotten so over the top with it.”

“Okay, and what will be my tell?”

“Huh?” I replied, “Your tell?”

“If I start cracking, what’s your warning sign?”

“Jeez, I hadn’t thought of that, to be honest.”

“And, of course, there's the other side of the coin… What do we look for if you crack?”

I excused myself and went back to the keep. There was a lot of noise. The goblin king’s entourage had a row of kegs of thick, dark beer, and they were in the process of drinking it with Slade and the raiders.

“We should rest a day, then travel tomorrow night to your lands.” Malworth bellowed.

Slade held up a mug, spilling syrupy ale everywhere, and yelled back, “Hear, hear!”

The thought of us riding in the front of a goblin horde up to the gates of Springfield in the middle of the night didn’t sit well with me. I was pretty sure the townsfolk would see it as an invasion rather than the peaceful cooperation it was supposed to be.

I tried shoving my way through the mass of goblins surrounding Slade, William, and Malworth, but one of them nipped at me with sharp teeth. The goblins were smaller than me by at least a full head, but they were nasty-tempered and quick.

“Hey!” I yelped.

The goblin that had nipped was standing his ground in the crowd, refusing to let me pass. Other goblins egged him on, patting his back and making yipping barking noises.

“Victoria! Come have a drink!” Slade yelled from the center of the massive crowd. It was strange being able to see him, normally in a large crowd, all I would see were the backs of people. The goblins were so short I kept expecting to fall off something. I’d never been in a crowd where I could look over everyone's head.

I tried to pass again, and the little goblin bastard snarled at me and tried to bite my arm. I jerked back, but now the other goblins had me surrounded and were trying to push me into the biter. The ones behind me were patting my back and shouting encouragement. I’m sure they didn’t think I could understand. I realized this was all in fun and games, which was a part of their culture, maybe? I hesitated, not wanting actually to be bitten, and the crowds around both of us started yelling at each other. “Force for the fit! Force for the fit!”

Raising my hands up, I tried to show that I was not a threat. The goblins around the biter hooted and hollered insults at me. The ones behind me started stamping their feet and encouraging me to shove him down. I wanted no part of any of this.

The goblin that had nipped at me started hopping from foot to foot, barking, showing his teeth, and holding his hands up with claws spread. All the goblins around us started laughing and hollering. They seemed to be having the time of their lives.

Confused and with hands up, I tried going around the biter, but he would simply dance in front of me no matter which way I stepped.

“Let her pass!” Malworth screamed in Goblinese.

The goblins around us laughed and parted, making a passageway for me to get to Slade and the king. The biter thrust his chin up in the air as goblins around him congratulated him on besting a ‘too-tall.’

“Victoria,” Slade slurred. “You got to try this ale. It's sick.”

And it would probably make me sick, I thought, as a goblin woman shoved a mug in my hands. She looked as nasty as the rest of them, with green skin, a long pointy nose, and rows of sharp teeth. She was wearing a nicely made leather outfit showing a lot of green cleavage, which struck me as bizarre for some reason. Are men all the same across every species? And, if we’re going to go there, are women too? Maybe her people considered her a real beauty, and serving the king ale was about as good as it got for a goblin woman.

“To our new friends! May we see years of work and play together!” Slade yelled while lifting his mug and sloshing more of the dark fluids across everyone, including me.

Malworth thrust up his mug, slamming into Slade’s. Other goblins thrust up theirs as well but couldn’t quite reach. William reluctantly lifted his mug; he didn’t seem to be having as much of a good time as the raiders did just a night (or was it two?) ago when drinking with Slade.

Then they all slammed their mugs back, drinking deeply. I smiled at Malworth, who seemed to be watching me, and then I took a sip. The ale was thick. I could probably stand a fork in it. There was an initial bitter bite, but after that, an underlying sweetness made me want to take another drink.

When Malworth saw my face change from horrified reluctance to eager for another sip, he smiled. I had a feeling it was meant in camaraderie, but the daggerlike teeth made it very creepified.

“You should have shoved that runt down,” Malworth said to me through the din of goblins and human drinking.

“Me?” I said. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“You lost face. And Brimbrash has gained honor at your expense.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“He tried biting me. I could have lost a finger. I think I came out ahead.”

“It will be more difficult gaining your pride back than regrowing a finger,” Malworth said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“Humans can’t regrow fingers.”

Malworth chuckled, “Neither can we.”

Okay, I thought, this was confirmation that goblins are crude little bastards that value force and face. This might not go well for human farmers who are used to the rule of law.

“We can’t travel into the human lands at night,” I told Malworth.

“Your king has already agreed.”

“He was wrong,” I said.

Malworth jerked back angrily. “You would challenge your king?”

“I would,” I said definitely. To prove my point, I yelled at Slade, “Hey! Slade! We can’t travel at night.”

Slade turned away from whatever story he laid out for William and asked, “Why not?”

“Because it will look bad. Really bad.” I yelled over the din at him. “Think how the farmers of Springfield will feel if a goblin army rides in, in the middle of the night.”

Slade opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then scratched his chin. “You may have a point.”

“Oh no. I totally have a point.” I said. “We have to approach Springfield in the middle of the day. Otherwise, they’ll think the apocalypse is upon them.”

Slade turned to Malworth, “Hey! She has a point. We need to travel in daylight.”

“My people do not fare well in the sun,” Malworth replied. “You already agreed that we should travel together in the calming presence of the moon.”

“But she has a good point. It won’t look good. And we want this alliance to stick.”

Walworth looked angry but spoke evenly with his broken English, “You’d let a woman dictate terms to you?”

Alright, I was ready to stick some arrows in someone's moonlight-caressed ass. I was stunned when Slade defended me.

“Look, Victoria is smart. She knows these things. If she thinks it will cause problems going in at night, then it will probably cause some problems. We travel during the day.”

“You would go back on your word?” Malworth grumbled.

“No. You can have your lands. But we travel during day.” Slade tipped his mug back for another mouthful of ale.

Malworth handed his mug to a nearby goblin, “You’d break a word just given? I could rip your face off with my fangs.”

Slade stopped drinking and dropped his mug to the floor. An awkward quiet radiated suddenly from the center of the mob to its edges. Slade growled, “Not before I stick a foot up your ass and wear you around like slippers.”

The two glared murderously at each other. William looked absolutely tickled by this new development. I sputtered, trying to think of the words to disarm this situation. Sadly, I wasn’t much of a party girl, more of a stay-at-home reading on Friday nights, so my experience was limited.

“You lowdown filthy son of a bitch,” Slade shouted, then threw his arms around Malworth.

Malworth looked ready to actually bite Slade’s face off, then realized he’d been given a way out of this situation without losing face. He reluctantly threw his arms around Slade and growled, “You silly too-tall weakling.”

The goblins and raiders surrounding us held the awkward silence for a moment, then burst into laughter and cheering. I was left speechless. We’d been this close to a bloody barroom brawl, only for Slade to disarm the entire thing with his buffoonery. I thought maybe there was a reason he’d been chosen for this game. The difference in our communication styles was obvious. He had a gift for empathizing with barbarians. I didn’t envy him that.

With the situation defused and our travel plans corrected, the near-death experience of being mobbed in a bar room brawl left me wanting to leave this party. I had a few more drinks to ensure Slade wouldn’t agree to any more stupid ideas, then fled back up to the roof. Even though I’d just been woken up a few hours earlier, I decided to try and get some sleep before dawn.

Rolling out my bedroll, I heard footsteps behind me coming up the stairs.

“Oh, Max, wait till you hear this one…” I said, then turned and realized Max hadn’t followed me up the stairs. It was William. William the Tall.

He stood there for a moment, looking at me. He was taller than Slade, with a chest just as broad. It felt weird being on my hands and knees, rolling out my sleeping bag, as this hunky-looking barbarian towered over me.

“My apologies, milady,” he said with a nod of his strong-jawed head. “I couldn’t help noticing that you didn’t seem as enamored with our new friends as your king.”

“I, uh.” I sputtered, then jumped up. He was still much taller than me, but at least now I wasn’t on my hands and knees. “Yeah, to be honest, the whole scene of shoving and biting… we may have cultures that aren’t quite compatible.”

William nodded sagely, “I agree. The goblins are not our friends. And they killed many of my own over the years. I think we entered into this agreement King Slade made all too quickly.”

“Slade is quick to make decisions without thinking them through all the way,” I chuckled, feeling the ale. “He means well, though.”

“Meaning well doesn’t always end well,” William said. The way he said it made it seem ominous. “A mother that doesn’t show her child loving discipline and the kiss of a palm may raise a weakling of a son.”

Even through the tipsiness of a few drinks, I saw through this ploy. It was simply another facet of might makes right. I wasn’t a mother myself, but my parents never slapped me or spanked me. William looked no more attractive in the moment he said those words than any of the goblins had. I was doubly irritated that he thought he had to dress this up in a yarn about motherly love to sell it to me.

“We made our deal with them. What are we if we break our word?” I said. I stood my ground, easily within arm's reach of the raider. I feared backing up would show him how physically intimidated I was. Now, I regretted having said anything bad about Slade. William seemed to have taken it as an indication of my loyalty.

“Neither me nor my own gave our word to commit suicide. We joined with King Slade to kill the goblin king, not share drink with him. I thought your sympathies might lie on a similar path.”

Well,” I said, trying to hide my nerves, “I’m sorry to disappoint you. My loyalties lie with my own.”

Below, I could hear the goblins spilling out into the compound. The night of festivities was coming to a close. They’d all be heading back to their tents among the many scattered outside the fort.

“Once again, you have my apologies, milady,” William said, giving me another nod. With that, he turned and descended the stairs back into the keep.

I exhaled loudly and longly. In just a few words, William made me feel small and threatened. More so than the goblin biter had. I sat heavily on my bedroll and thought about what had been said. The raiders had a long history of fighting goblins for land. William had lost people he knew to goblins. Of course, trying to negotiate with your enemy would be difficult. And, of course, there would be tension.

Lying back, I watched the stars twinkle for a bit. Just a few minutes at the drinking party gave me insight into both the goblin culture and the raiders. Not to mention, some insights into the many surprising facets of Slade.

The noise below on the first floor was nearly silent as the drinking and revelry ended. I tried connecting stars into constellation patterns like back home, and I thought about the drinking.

William hadn’t been drinking earlier. He’d been nursing his cup but not drinking with abandon like he’d done with Slade previously. It was going to be a long day of riding tomorrow, so it made sense to conserve strength. But William hadn’t done that the last time, the night before the Battle of the Broken Hill.

He was conserving his strength tonight. It suddenly dawned on me, and I felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. William meant to assassinate Malworth.