After a few more questions about the cultural process of visiting the Matriarchs, Matt left for the meeting, with Einreth at his heels. She’d promised to attend with him, hoping that her familiar presence would smooth over any lingering hostility. Matt wasn’t sure if the sight of the leader that had been riding roughshod over them the past few weeks would help all that much, but at the very least it would remind the Matriarchs of the fact that he had more than just their power at his disposal.
The room where the Matriarchs waited for him was located high up in the Citadel, in a space that could look out over all three rings of the city below. It took some time to get to the place; there were plenty of stairs to climb, with Goblins guarding each landing. They bowed to him as he climbed, and Matt nodded back, hoping they couldn’t tell that he was getting a bit winded with the effort.
When he reached the room, he could hear the murmur of conversation. The high, shining sound of someone laughing in delight echoed out through the heavy wooden doors. He paused, staring at the elaborately carved entrance, his eyes tracing the etched mural of a group of Goblins gathered around a tree in the forest. Perhaps it was a record of the founding of Shadowfen. Either way, were the Matriarchs discussing something without him? The laughter had sounded almost… familiar.
Matt glanced at the guards stationed on either side of the doorway. They bowed formally and then returned to their positions. Some of his own lifeguards took up their own positions—notably, where they could watch the guards as well as each other—and others lined up behind him and Lady Einreth, ready to accompany him into the room. He looked around at them, and then nodded.
Then he pushed open the doors and walked into the room.
He made it three steps before surprise froze him in place.
The Matriarchs were sitting in three high-backed thrones around a small round table. He could see the emblem of Shadowfen emblazoned on the wooden surface, though it was partially covered by a set of plates and cups. Their thrones were well crafted, with the symbols of their Houses carved deep into the top of each one. Matt actually envied them a little; his own throne in Redspire was a metal, severe-looking thing, with none of the cushions and craftsmanship on display here.
Another throne had been set up around the table, though it lacked the high back and House Symbols. Instead, it was built much wider and lower, with branches and vines carved as if they were crawling along the back and arms. It was faced away from him, but Matt believed he’d probably see the symbol for Redspire on its back.
There were a couple of other chairs set up alongside that low throne; obviously, the Matriarchs had anticipated that Einreth would accompany him to the meeting. It was a logical assumption to make, really.
It was a lot less logical that Tanya was already there, in the other chair, chatting with the Matriarchs as if they were old friends.
He stared at the scene for a moment, and Tanya looked back at him. She smiled and raised her cup to him slightly. Einreth muttered something at his side, but Matt ignored it and looked to the Matriarchs. They were studying him with neutral, searching expressions, as if they were trying to bore their way into him with their eyes.
He started forward again, his boots thumping softly against the bare wooden floor of the room. It was mildly disconcerting, after the stone or dirt floors he’d become used to, but the Goblins had a tendency to use wood where they could, and the Citadel did not seem to be an exception. As he drew close to the table, the women stood. Tanya gave him a slight incline of the head, while the Matriarchs all bowed carefully, their white hair brushing the table as they moved.
The middle one spoke. “King Matthew, we bid you welcome to Shadowfen, and to the Citadel. We trust your journey was not too arduous.”
Matt offered them a bow in return. He smiled. “Not at all, Matriarch Rithune. In fact, I am glad that I am finally able to come and see your wonderful home.” With an elaborately casual gesture, he motioned for Einreth to take the other remaining chair, while he scooted the low throne back a little so that he could sit as well. As he dropped into the seat, the others lowered themselves into theirs. “I hope I haven’t intruded on your plans by coming here now.”
“Not at all, sire. Your presence is quite reassuring.” The Matriarch from House Selthune glanced at Lady Einreth, and then looked back to him. “We have had far too much disruption and discontent in our fair city. It will be good to have a bit more… direct oversight here.”
“I am glad you feel that way.” Matt scooted his throne a bit further forward, looking around the table again. He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at Tanya. “I see that you have already met Tanya. I hope she hasn’t been causing you any trouble.”
The Matriarch of House Calthune was the one who answered—just a bit too quickly and softly for Matt’s tastes. “Not at all, my liege. In fact, we were just discussing her projects in Redspire, and how good it will be to finally have a place to exhibit so many wonderful treasures from all across the Kingdom.”
Matt raised both eyebrows now and looked back to Tanya. She gave him a smile that was almost sickeningly sweet. “I was telling them about how much progress the workmen must have been making on the museum, and about how lovely it will be to showcase the talents of their artisans alongside the other Clans.”
Einreth grunted quietly. “I trust you mentioned that the pieces I contributed were promised a place of pride, Maiden.”
Tanya nodded easily. “Of course, Lady Einreth. I appreciate your personal contribution to the cause, and I would not forget the promises I made to you.” Einreth nodded with satisfaction, at least until Tanya continued. “Of course, there might be many such places of honor in the museum. That’s the entire point of it, after all! I see no reason to deny the Houses of the Blackleaf Clan their own spot.”
Matriarch Calthune took a sip of her cup and set it down. She nodded gratefully to Tanya. “It will be my House’s honor to contribute several of our best craftwork to the building, Maiden. Your wisdom reassures me that our time and effort will not be ill spent.”
“Indeed. You persuade me to make my own contributions as well, Matriarch Calthune.” Matriarch Rithune’s eyes were sharp as she glanced at her onetime superior, and then as she glanced at Matt. “You must be very fortunate to enjoy the… company of such a wise advisor and confidante, King Matthew.”
“Though I suppose we all occasionally fall into the error of spending our time with… lesser concerns.” Matriarch Selthune’s murmur was almost low enough to miss, without quite reaching that goal. She sipped her cup as well before continuing, her eyes on Lady Einreth. “It surprises me that you would remain closeted so long with someone not as clever and graceful as your wonderful Maiden. It seems a waste of precious effort, to be truthful.”
He stiffened as the implication struck home, nearly choking on a mouthful of water, but Einreth smiled and responded before he could organize his thoughts. “I assure you that our King has enough vigor to spend however he sees fit. Why, even I can hardly keep up with him; I imagine our poor Maiden is fairly overwhelmed at times.”
Matt finally managed to swallow his drink without snorting half of it through his nose. He had just enough time to glance at Einreth, who was wearing a fairly satisfied expression compared to the grimmer looks from the Matriarchs. Then Tanya spoke, her voice cool and aloof. It was like a knife made of ice. “I suppose there is no accounting for taste, though it is not hopeless. The finer things in life do win out eventually, in the end.”
Einreth gave Tanya a vicious grin. “On that, we may agree, Maiden.”
He started to feel like the situation was wholly out of control. Unless he was completely idiotic, the Matriarchs obviously thought he was quite a lot closer to Einreth than he actually was. A lot closer, in fact. Einreth hadn’t denied it, though. She’d actually encouraged the misunderstanding. Was it just to cement her ties to the throne, giving her more influence? Or was it just to keep the Matriarchs off balance?
Either way, it appeared that the Goblins were hoping he’d choose Tanya over Einreth, in the hopes of keeping the Red Moons from gaining too much influence. Tanya obviously wasn’t opposed to using those hopes to get her own way, and was playing along.
All of which meant that not only were there rumors he was sleeping with two different women, both Tanya and Einreth were now competing to be his fake lover. Matt felt the pressure for another headache start to build between his eyes. He raised his cup to his lips again and tried to sound somewhat casual. “So, the weather has been nice lately, hasn’t it?”
An hour later, Matt was almost wishing for an emergency to happen, if only for him to try to escape the catastrophe he’d become trapped in.
The supposed diplomatic dinner had become a nightmare of innuendo, sniping, and insinuations that made him long for death. Usually, this kind of subtle manipulation was fine by him; he could turn the Matriarchs against each other and convince them to go along with his ideas. Failing that, he could metaphorically beat them into submission the way he had at Heartlight using their own traditions against them.
This time, though, the local rulers were a united front, and their traditions apparently included aggressive political matchmaking. Calthune in particular seemed uneasy about the existence of a male ruler with no ‘companion to balance and guide him’ correctly, though she seemed less hostile to Einreth than Selthune and Rithune were. Of course, the fact the ‘moderate’ in the room still insisted on him having some committed companion when he didn’t want one was not ideal, and when the servants opened the doors to bring in the third course of the meal, he briefly weighed the ramifications of just sprinting out the opening to escape the mess.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It didn’t help that both Einreth and Tanya were clearly enjoying their ‘rivalry’. There might have been an edge of seriousness in their biting comments to each other—they were just a bit too cutting, and it was just as clear that they weren’t particularly fond of each other—but every time he caught their eye and the Matriarchs were distracted, Matt thought he saw a hint of amusement in their eyes. Clearly, if anything united his supposed lovers, it was making him awkward and miserable. Perfect.
As the servants came closer, Matt looked over to them, hoping for some distraction from the conversation at hand—apparently Selthune favored blue for a wedding color, something that both Rithune and Einreth objected to vociferously—and paused. There was something about the way they were walking…
He’d noticed that most of the servants in the Citadel happened to be male. It was an interesting inversion compared to the usual expectations throughout the Kingdom, but not normally one Matt would have paid attention to. If he hadn’t been trying to distract himself from a trio of grandmothers trying to dissect his fake love life, perhaps he would have missed it.
One of the servants was walking wrong.
Matt frowned, trying to figure out what was bothering him. He’d seen this exact servant earlier in the meal; he’d been the Goblin that had brought him his soup, if his memory was correct. The man had walked with a certain gliding grace then, like he was skating across the wooden floor instead of stepping on it. Most of the other servants had matched that same effortless stride, along with a business-like efficiency and focus that Mat had been forced to admire.
Now, though, the same servant was moving differently. It was more of a swaying stalk forward instead of the effortless glide. The man’s head was up and alert, but instead of watching Matt or the Matriarchs he was sneaking glances at the lifeguards stationed at the edges of the room. They were all walking that way, their expressions blank and their eyes alert. He felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stand up as one of them brushed at the empty air at their hip. It looked empty, but if the Goblin had been wearing a sword…
Matt pushed his chair back slowly, trying not to be obvious about what he was doing. He glanced at the lifeguards, but they didn’t appear to have caught on to anything. Was he being paranoid? If he had made a mistake, then he might touch off a diplomatic incident over a bunch of odd waiters. The last thing he wanted to do was stab some butler full of holes and give the Matriarchs a reason to mistrust him.
Still, being overly worried about assassins was a mistake he could recover from. Being assassinated by wait staff was not. He reached over and grabbed a knife that he’d been given with the second course, hoping that it would serve him as well as the last carving knife he’d used in combat. Somehow, he didn’t expect the results to be as dramatic.
Einreth and the Matriarchs were still talking, but Tanya had abruptly gone still. She was watching him with wide eyes. Her eyes darted to the servants, and realization filled her. Fortunately, she didn’t grab any silverware of her own, but she did start muttering something under her breath. Whether it was magic or a prayer of some kind, he couldn’t tell.
His own magic wasn’t going to be useful in the situation at all. Wooden floors wouldn’t react to any of his abilities, and shattering a hole in the wall wouldn’t give him any real chance to escape. Matt’s fingers tightened on the knife as he watched the servants come closer. He wasn’t going to have much of a chance, but he’d have to make a good try of it.
The servants fanned out, each one carrying a dish to one of the members of the meal. Matt glanced at Einreth, who looked at him with a curious expression. He used the chance to slip the knife off of the table and down beside him. If he waited until one of them was right alongside him, he’d have the chance to jump them before they moved.
When he looked back, the servant was staring at him. There was recognition in those eyes, and a burning hatred that told him that his attempt to look nonchalant had failed. The servant was already starting to move; one hand had let go of the plate he was carrying, and the other was already darting towards the invisible space where his sword probably was. Matt could sense the others starting to tense as well; they hadn’t moved yet, but they were going to, and in a minute he and everyone else at the table were going to be in the middle of roughly eight armed assassins.
Matt threw himself out of the throne and lashed out at the servant. He was able to cross the distance in a pair of strides, but by the time he made it, the servant had already drawn a sword and blocked his knife. The impact sent shivers through the knife; a fragment of the edge chipped away and nearly hit Matt in the eye.
He stepped back, looking for an opening. As he did so, the illusion that had been hiding the man fell away, and he jerked in surprise.
The Goblin had actually been a woman, one holding two shortswords in her hands. She wore dark cloth armor beneath rags, a uniform that identified her as a member of the Shadow Hunters. Golden eyes glittered with hatred as she flourished the blades in her hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the other servants dropping their disguises and stepping forward, their swords ready to strike.
By now, the others were reacting. All three Matriarchs leapt from their thrones and drew daggers from under their clothes. The assassins facing them hissed in laughter, stepping in without any real fear. Einreth came out of her own seat with a roar, stepping forward to challenge the pair of assassins coming towards her. Another nearly caught him with a slash from the side, forcing him to back up. Matt staggered a little as he bumped against the chair behind him. Low laughter mocked him as both assassins advanced.
Panic almost reigned in his mind, but Matt tried to force himself to calm down. He hadn’t thought he could stop the assassins by himself; one versus eight was not a good plan, even in the best situations. All he really needed to do was stall long enough for the lifeguards to join the fight and—
His eyes darted to the lifeguards, and he nearly dropped his knife in shock. The lifeguards were all still lounging along the walls of the room. One of them was actually mid-yawn, as if utterly bored by the scene in front of them. They didn’t seem to be the least bit alarmed by the assassins closing in on the Matriarchs and their ruler, even as the blades started to come up for the fatal strikes.
It had to be an illusion Spell. Some kind of disguise that was shrouding the whole room, maybe even concealing the sounds they were making. The lifeguards were probably still seeing nothing but a simple dinner meal. He had to get to them, to wake them up. His eyes dropped back to the assassins, who were still advancing. Trying to run past them was not going to work; it would only get him stabbed and cut earlier.
He backed up again, the back of his legs hitting his chair. His breath was low and harsh in his ears. Einreth was still roaring, but she had reeled back with blood on her arm from a slash. One of the Matriarchs caught a slash across her side and fell back across the table. Her fellow Matriarchs dashed forward to attack and nearly caught a second slash.
Then, just as the Goblins were preparing to strike, Tanya raised her hands, and a chill filled the room.
Matt saw the wind catch the assassins in front of him; he caught the edge of a wave of cold that washed across his skin. Both Goblins were sent flying to the side, their armor and clothes instantly rimed with frost. Swords spun out of numbed hands, skittering across the floor as the wind carried them farther than the stumbling assassins.
He didn’t wait for the Goblins to recover. Instead, he dove in and slashed at one assassin with his knife. The strike drew blood, but he didn’t wait to see if the hit was lethal; he let go of the knife and grabbed a sword from the Goblin’s unresisting hand. When the other assassin started to recover, he shoved the second assassin hard, tumbling them into the feet of one of the Goblins attacking Einreth. Matt heard assassins yell in alarm, and the other Shadow Hunter facing Einreth turned towards him. She didn’t manage to strike him, though, because the Orc snapped out a punch that crunched into the Goblin’s skull.
As that assassin dropped, Matt saw the four that had been going after the Matriarchs shift their attention to him and Tanya. He gave a frustrated look at the lifeguard—one of the frost-ridden swords had slid almost to one of the lifeguard’s feet—Matt ran back to the table, where Tanya was still standing. She was backing away from an approaching assassin, still muttering something under her breath.
He reached her first, pushing around her to put himself in front of her attacker. Matt held the half-frozen sword in front of him, trying to keep it between him and the Goblin. When they struck, he managed to block at least one slice, dodged a second, and responded with a slice that forced them to back up. Though he was holding his own for now, Matt knew he was still only buying time. Einreth was still fighting behind him, but he knew it wouldn’t last forever. There had to be some way for him to get them all away from the Hunters.
Then he heard a roar, and the door to the servants’ quarters slammed open. More assassins tumbled out into the room, disguises apparently discarded. They weren’t alone, however; to his surprise, armored Orcs wearing the regalia of the Eighth Spears chased them into the room, shields countering shortswords and spears piercing armor. The lifeguard reacted immediately; at first, they started towards the newcomers. He could see the moment the illusion came down, however. Half of the lifeguard immediately changed course, charging across the floor towards him.
Matt grinned as he looked back at the assassins in front of him. “Time’s up, traitors.”
One of the Goblins snarled and leaped at him. Matt felt a flash of regret at taunting the Hunter, but another gust of wind caught the assassin in midair. It blew the Goblin’s legs out from under them, knocking her backwards enough that her swords missed Matt by a large margin. He lunged out and stabbed in response. The swordpoint missed, skidding off the Goblin’s armor, but the assassin still hit the ground face first.
Before they could rise, Matt stabbed at the assassins again, this time hitting them in the back and pinning them to the floor. He lurched up and away, trying to keep his distance from the rest of the enemies. Fortunately, the other assassin was already sinking to her knees, a crossbow bolt in her back. The remaining two in front of him were already retreating, the blades of his lifeguards flashing. A glance behind him told him that Einreth was still breathing; the lifeguard had reached her as well, and none of the assassins there were moving.
Tanya was still standing as well, her eyes flashing as she looked around the room. Her breath was coming hard, and the tips of her fingers were blue, but she wasn’t falling apart. It was… impressive, in a way.
By the time Matt looked back, the fight was all but over. Between the Spears and the lifeguard, the remaining assassins were all down or surrounded. Within a few more heartbeats, the final few had dropped their swords and raised their hands.
That quickly, it was over. He saw some of the Spears moving to help the Matriarchs; both Rithune and Calthune were wounded, though he thought they’d both survive. Einreth was shaking off efforts to bandage her as well; the Orc’s blood was up, and she was staring around as if she wanted to find more Goblins to fight.
A brief pause fell, one filled with harsh breathing and tense looks. Then another Orc came through the servant’s door, wearing a familiar set of bandages. Matt saw him coming and straightened up. “Captain Karve.”
Karve nodded to him. “Sire. I’m sorry we weren’t faster.”
Matt looked around the room, noting the blood and the wreckage. Then he sighed. “Well, Captain, it could definitely have been worse.”