Mattrax chewed upon his dinner disconsolately. The meat they had brought him tasted funny. Maybe it was time to bring back the position of official taster once more. They never seemed to work out, though. He always got peckish while waiting for his cow, and ended up eating them.
He shifted irritably on his pile of gold, sending coins skittering in rolling cascades. He picked up a crown with a single claw. The gold was pure, thick, worked into a design so fine that in places the metal had the texture of paper. It was a technique from a lost age. He thought he had pried it from some scholars who themselves had scavenged the thing from the tomb of a Vinland king. Some lunatic who had dedicated himself and his kingdom to Barph. Some fool willing to dedicate himself to a life of indulgence and pleasure.
Mattrax breathed out and the crown melted in the corona of his fire. He smeared the dripping slag on the wall of his cave. He was thinking of coating the whole thing in gold. The stone was ominous, yes, but dreary too. It would be glorious to have a golden cave. He bet stupid Dathrax didn’t have a golden cave. Dathrax—living in the middle of a lake. He would have gold and Dathrax would have mold. He snorted at the thought.
Still, melting his own gold was a lot of work. Maybe he’d reintroduce slavery. The Consortium had ruled against it. One of their annual meetings at the Hallows’ Mouth volcano. Something to do with riling up the masses. But there were no masses up here. Just idiots, like those ones swilling around his cave earlier. Gods, they had been annoying. And his ridiculous, pointless guards. Just standing there, dying. Did he have to do everything himself?
He stifled a yawn. He was feeling unexpectedly sleepy. Probably all the murder earlier. Idiot guards exhausting him like that.
He took another bite of his meal. What was wrong with this meat? He took a few more experimental mouthfuls, trying to identify the flavor. Were they trying to spice his meat now? Gods.
He contemplated leaving it where it was. But he’d eaten three of the guards earlier and plate mail always upset his digestion. Some simple cow meat would be good for him.
He gave into another yawn, and then settled in to chow down.