Jackal Among Snakes

The two suns were just beginning to set behind the mountains, the red moon rising to take its place. At a point in the vast ridge, two mountains converged to form a narrow valley. Uneven rolling hills occupied one side of the mountains, covered with infrequent patches of dormant grass. If one went through the valley, moving beyond the mountains, one could see an unending expanse of black sand marred by a single half-buried stone road leading straight out from the valley.

In the middle of the valley, a manmade wall of smooth taupe stone stood tall, the two towers on each side partially merging with the mountains. A great many knights walked atop the walls, wearing white plate mail with a golden lion on the breastplate. In the center of the wall, a statue of a lion looked out across the black desert. Its jaws were open as though roaring. A glistening orange sphere shone from within its mouth, clenched by its fangs. Sparks of magic occasionally surged along the wall, each originating from the sphere in the lion’s mouth.

The two mountains that formed the valley had been carved away near the summit to form two keeps. The rough, uneven terrain had been chipped down in way of square rooms with simple windows. These rooms, too, shone with enchantments, and the windows offered a view of both the desert and the hills before the mountains. Opposite this keep and across the valley, the entire peak had been sheared away, revealing a vast field of open stone contained within a small wall.

The man-made plateau on the peak was marked by claw marks and scratches. Elsewhere it was filled with bones, many of them so old the sun had bleached them white. Others were more freshly eaten. None of them were human bones; cow, pig, or sheep comprised the majority.

The creator of these bone piles rested in the center of the mountaintop with its tail coiled around its body. The wyvern was a great beast, a dark red that made it look like the dragons of old. It was noticeably muscular on both its wings and its legs. It feasted on a sheared sheep—one of many resting beside its maw. Someone sat beside it on a stone chair carved from the landscape.

Margrave Reinhardt ran his hands across his wyvern’s head as it dug into its food. Even now, he wore his white plate mail armor. His long red hair fell past his shoulders and ended where the cloak of the same color began. His gaze was distant as he watched the beast eat, clearly lost in thought.

The wyvern lifted its head from its food, shifting its body to attention. The Margrave was drawn from his haze, and he followed his mount’s gaze. In the distance, a man with dark green hair moved up the stairs in the corner of the room and started to move to the Margrave with long, hurried strides. The Margrave soothed the wyvern, and it resumed eating.

“Margrave Reinhardt,” the man greeted from a distance. He was a young man with a handsome, earnest face. He slowed his steps, the wyvern clearly making him cautious. “I have more news.”

“Speak, then, Baron Julio.” the Margrave directed.

Julio reached into his shirt and pulled free a stack of letters. “More responses have arrived. Not a single southern noble has decided to support Vasquer. The majority of them have remained neutral, but the Duke of Birall declared he would be gathering his forces in support. I’m sure that, once word of that spreads, the southwestern nobles will fall in line,” Julio said excitedly.

The Margrave nodded. “It’s as you say. The majority will wait for the result of the first major battle to make a decision. Being neutral alone is a great boon.” Reinhardt gazed at his aide. “And the Duke of Monticci?”

“Regarding that…” Baron Julio rubbed his hands together. “The young lord Elias has returned. He says that he brought news from Mateth.”

his eyes, turning back

sister in the temple,” Julio proceeded slowly. “He wishes to see

return,” Reinhardt directed, voice low. “What

decided to support, but the Order itself remains neutral—partly because Master Castro is away and has yet to respond. The Duke of Elbraille has not responded.

he is, a terrific flier. He uses magic to bond with the beast, though. An enchanted whistle. Never was fond of that. Impersonal.” The Margrave shook his head. “The Order won’t take a side. The individual mages are what’s important. You can use all the funds of House Parbon at your disposal to recruit them—they

sent out advance notice of the levy. Public opinion is high—Vasquer is not well-liked, and after what occurred at Dirracha, people are doubly ready

don’t like it. But Vasquer undoubtedly will, and we will likely lose if we do not.” He scratched his chin where red stubble poked out. “With winter soon to come, any significant military activity will be impossible. We can only gather our forces and focus on preparing supplies to endure. True war will begin with spring. The harvests

sabotage—watch the comings and goings of refugees carefully, protect the granaries, be mindful of the rivers. That should be our knights’ focus as we build

Margrave looked at his hands and nodded. “You are right. I have been warring with the southern tribes for years, meeting them at the Lionsun Wall. They lack fear, but they

the militiamen, too, our forces will be further

wyvern. “Take the militiamen, leave the villages defenseless? Bandits mostly form from deserted soldiers. War is the time when they are most present. I should leave the people without a method

Julio bowed, but his fists clenched tightly at his side. “Yes, Margrave.

away, and the wyvern tossed aside

the Margrave. He scratched beneath its chin, and some huffs of air

stared passively, ignorant of the

did.” The Margrave lowered his hand from the wyvern. “Am

and then the wyvern lifted its head once more. It let out quiet a growl, and then shot past Reinhardt. The Margrave lifted his head to see

fell to his back, exhausted, and Reinhardt came to stand over him. He offered a hand to his son, and Elias took it, rising

back to its food, claws echoing across the plateau as they scratched the stone. The dusk light was

been considering how I might punish you this whole time.

Elias waited quietly.

just as stubborn as you were when I was young. I thought I was always right. I still do, in some things.” Reinhardt reached a hand up and put it on Elias’ shoulder. “As time passed, I realized