Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave spurred his horse forward, holding his hand to the satchel on his side to keep the bottles from banging about. He knew the terrain well after years of wandering about in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ and Argrave stuck near the coast as he headed for Barden. Galamon rode beside him. It had been a challenge to find a horse that could support the elf’s weight and height, but they had managed. The horses belonged to the Dukedom, technically, but Nikoletta had secured them for the two of them.

“Don’t fight the horse,” Galamon instructed, yelling loudly so his voice carried as they moved. The snow elf was a much better rider than he. “Don’t react to its movements after they've happened. Move in sync with it. It’ll reduce the burden on both your and its body.”

“Yeah, I’ll just do that. Move in sync with the horse. It’s easy, bro. Just do it,” Argrave muttered into the wind with a mock jock-tone.

The horse carried onwards. Argrave watched for landmarks, guiding them to their destination. The suns were high overhead, and the temperature was pleasant. This place didn’t seem like one on the eve of war.

The two of them rode onwards for a long while. Eventually, Argrave could see the distant buildings of a village; it was not Barden, though. This place was made of cheap wood and straw. Barden was much beyond it. Argrave adjusted his shoulders, telling himself that the journey was probably half done.

The sound of a horn filled the air. Argrave thought it was uncannily similar to that of a steamboat. He had wits enough to slow his horse instead of pulling it to a stop instantly, and he looked at where the noise had come from.

The horn came again. Argrave could see someone standing atop an outpost at the village with a horn larger than themselves held above their head.

“There, beyond the crags,” Galamon said, pulling up beside Argrave. “A longship cuts the waters.”

Argrave looked out across the sea, squinting his eyes. He saw a moving mass of brown. They flew a red flag with a black wheel in the center. It was too distant to make out details beyond that.

Argrave cursed. “So much for that conversation with the god-forsaken Duke. A waste of time. I could have learned a useful C-rank spell. Instead, I spent it giving advice for an invasion that was happening today.”

“Don’t think on it. You will get lost with that mentality,” Galamon cautioned.

“Rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him.” Argrave turned to Galamon. “They’re still at sea. Let’s move. Once we get to Barden, you’ll have to keep going.”

“Right.”

They both spurred their horses forward, moving faster than they had before. The horn continued to blow, and the village ahead became a hive of movement. People ran inside their homes, barricading windows and doors. The village militia, bolstered by a few dozen knights, spread out along the front of the village in the coast, urging fishermen to get away.

The pair had planned to travel through the village, but Argrave redirected them along the outskirts so as not to interfere with people moving about the road. As they rode by, shouts of unease and urgency entered their ears.

My leisure caused this. I should have acted faster. I should have acted smarter. I knew it was coming, and I didn’t do it right.

to suppress the urge to look out at the ocean

Before long, Barden came into sight. It was a quaint village with a larger dock than the one before it. The houses looked firmer than the village before, and it possessed a meager palisade to ward off attackers. The

look at Galamon. “Do

course I do,” Galamon

muttered, nervousness brewing within. “Once

There is nothing

He saw in his peripheries some longships moving towards Barden, and hurried his horse even faster than

nervous storm roiling in his chest became a tsunami crashing around. He was all alone. The defense of Barden—and perhaps his life—would rely only on his ability alone. He hadn’t repaid his magic debt to Erlebnis. He could not use the

gate. He shouted, “I come from Mateth! I

speaking within loudly, and eventually, the gate opened. A knight stood there. “Knight Ryles is here, sir. He’s with the knights near the docks, helping the

it there without tying it to anything. A horse would be

detachment of knights, Knight Ryles. He had a blue plume on his helmet. He was one of the few to

amongst themselves, while the militia waited a fair distance away, waiting to be told what to do by

attention. He walked closer until

know me?” the knight asked, his voice echoing from beneath his helmet

bringing up his old pseudonym, Argrave reached in his pocket and retrieved the Mark of Monticci he had been given this morning. “Barden is likely to become an important battleground. He wished for me to…” Argrave

how to deal with the snow elves, and further offer my abilities as a

always welcome. But guidance? I am not

hiding in the forest. I know how these elves fight. I won’t undermine your command, but Barden is an important strategic position, and I can help you devise

head. Argrave could not see his expression from behind

standing nearby interjected, “There isn’t time for much, Knight Ryles. Their strange ships are

the ocean, and then back at Argrave. “Tell me

side—the cliffs to the right of Barden are too steep, and the docks too narrow for a warship to fit. We should send the skiffs out to sea without anyone on them. Any sort of impediment preventing the elves beaching smoothly will

“But the—”

now,” Argrave interrupted, walking out into the docks. “Look at the number of elves on those longships. They are likely the same number as we, but each

It’s a good idea. Tell the

behind the palisades. The Veidimen have throwing axes, javelins—our bowmen need cover. If there is no position they can look over the palisade, stack

“What of

receive the elves on the

sending those men to their