Jackal Among Snakes

The druid’s haven still echoed with noise for a time. With all of the druids dead, the animals would be ripped from their magical control. They were probably fleeing or fighting, having abruptly been given freedom. Argrave still stared blankly at the scene of carnage, as though committing it to memory. Galamon tended to a few of the bodies, slicing wounds in them to fill his flasks of blood.

I’m pathetic, Argrave thought. Faltering here. Faltering at this. The first step of the stairway, and I’m out of steam? I have to do better than this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bronze hand mirror, hands shaking fiercely.

Galamon finished his task and walked to Argrave’s side. Argrave turned to look at him. At once, his entire demeanor seemed to shift, his blank look regaining life and vigor. He stowed away the mirror.

“That Winter Nymph blood was foul,” Argrave scoffed and held his nose. “I should read labels before I go shoving things down my throat.”

Galamon was taken aback for a moment by the abrupt change in expression. “It worked, no?”

“I suppose. Next time we go druid-hunting, I’ll think of something else,” Argrave said with exaggerated cheer. He turned on his heel. “I would say we could hunt more now, but the scouts on the other ends of this place are going to be long-gone. They’ll flee and return to Veiden posthaste.”

“Is that what you want?” Galamon inquired.

“Yes,” Argrave said with a nod. “If all of the druids simply disappeared, it would take longer for the rest of Veiden to respond. If they receive news of what’s happened, they’ll act on it quicker.”

“Quick action means less time to prepare,” Galamon countered.

“Vasquer is about to go to war. A civil war, unfortunately. The invasion is inevitable; you know Veiden. Conquest is their divine duty. Quick action might be the only way to salvage this situation.”

Argrave looked up the hill to Tirros’ mostly unaffected shack. “We should go to Tirros’ hut. He was teaching some of his fellows, and has druidic spell books—invaluable for me, considering their rarity in Berendar. I don’t even think the Order of the Gray Owl has them.” He marched his way towards Tirros’ hut, boots sinking into the wet ash and making unpleasant squishing noises.

Argrave stopped at Tirros’ shack, looking around inside. He grabbed the doorway to the shack. Galamon noticed that Argrave’s hands were still shaking fiercely.

The snow elf mercenary followed behind Argrave. “Since Tirros ‘the Tempestuous’ was here, I can’t doubt your claims that an invasion will occur. But… humans do not seem as fond of warfare as my kind. Do you hope to stay the civil war by inciting the invasion earlier?”

Argrave proceeded into the shack, looking about. “The civil war is inevitable. House Vasquer wants House Parbon to rebel. If that does happen, House Monticci will likely join them, leaving Mateth undefended; the invasion needs to be brought to light before then. That’s why we need their reports.

“I think Reinhardt fundamentally misunderstands the king; King Felipe does not care about life. I tried to tell him this when he kidnapped—” Argrave paused, looking back at Galamon. “Oh, I never told you about that. It’s not important. Anyway, Reinhardt will start a civil war—”

simultaneously. One was female, the

“Wait..!” the woman said.

about, a civil war, an invasion?” the man

Argrave, too, turned his head, and saw a familiar face that he did not expect to see. Elias of Parbon stood at the

trailed off, befuddled

Elias stepped back, ready to fight. Argrave

in place. “This is that same one that

“I asked you a question, Argrave! What in the gods’ name happened

he tried to deduce how this situation

witty answer!” Elias spat,

who just committed a brutal slaughter, Argrave wished to say, but he held

Elias said quickly. “I wanted to see what you were up to. Seems I was right to do so. So how

to get the scout’s plans.

hands in the air to appear non-threatening. “They’re spellcasters, as you probably saw. In their homeland, they’re called druids; they know magic that controls animals. They’ve been using that magic to spy on Mateth and the villages near it for some months now, gathering intelligence for

mixture of confusion, surprise,

of their labor.” Argrave stepped forward and tapped

He kept his hand near the Ebonice axe strung to his waist. Elias walked forward tentatively, and Argrave beckoned him closer. Argrave grabbed one of the many parchments littered throughout

drawing of the structure of the walls of Mateth. I wonder who would order such a thing? Quite insidious,” Argrave prattled off drolly. Elias snatched the paper from his hand and read it,

you come here,” Argrave commented. He turned back towards the shack’s entrance. “Don’t deny it—I have a good

to the papers, absorbed

on hand,

left.” He turned and picked up a book. Then he spun around, raising the book in the air as though to throw it. He heard a brief yelp in the corner of the shack, and he pointed. “Aha! There!

shouted, dispelling

you were hiding twice. I consider that no small victory, knowing you.” Argrave put

Argrave. “This is a serious matter, Argrave. Regardless of

the sappy monologue,” Argrave waved his hands and walked to Tirros’ shelf. He looked at the books, taking out those that he found important and setting them on the table. “I didn’t ‘find it,’ by the way. Everything I’ve been doing the past week or so has been related to putting an early end to this

how did you—” Mina began to