Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave and his entourage of well-dressed companions stepped past the open set of gargantuan carved marble doors, entering into the banquet hall just behind their footman. Two sets of stairs branched to either side, leading down below into a veritably sparkling room.

Their escort stepped to the balcony atop the stairs, announcing, “Now entering: young lord Elias of House Parbon, heir to the Margravate of Parbon, lady Elaine of Vyrbell, young lord Veladrien of Jast, and Argrave, son of King Felipe III.”

Argrave scratched his cheek as most gazes within the hall turned to them. Perhaps the title ‘son of King Felipe III’ had been intended to acknowledge his bastardry, but it seemed far more grandiose than ‘Argrave of Vasquer.’ Helmuth had been entirely excluded from the introduction. Perhaps it was because of his relatively baseborn status, or perhaps he was simply included in Elias’ retinue.

Argrave’s gaze wandered around the grand banquet hall belonging to Count Delbraun of Jast. The player did not often have cause to come here, so the place was mostly unfamiliar to him. The wide and open hall was a vainglorious testament to the power and wealth of House Jast. The place had an air quite similar to a basilica, though perhaps that could be solely attributed to the two prominent colors—white and red.

The room was near fifty feet high, and silver chandeliers bearing bright red candles illuminated the room much better than they had any right doing—most likely, they were enchanted. Marble pillars held up the ceiling, lined up all along the side of the rectangular room. The center of the hall was empty, occupied only with some chatting guests. The birch tables had been placed against the walls and were already filled with food, covered partially by red cloths. Vibrant crimson banners covered the windows, elaborate white suns embroidered in their center—Jast’s heraldry.

Obsequious servants replaced what was taken and tended to the guests ably. Though they were some of the first few to arrive, the hall was already quite filled, and curious eyes watched them readily. After a brief scan, Argrave could not spot Delbraun.

“These places make me nervous,” Elias muttered to Argrave.

“Do they?” Argrave asked rhetorically. He stepped towards the stairs, continuing, “Don’t let it bother you. I can’t hold your hand, you realize.”

“Don’t know what it is. The big crowds, the open spaces… well, banquets and balls have their fair share of tragic endings,” Elias mused. “Maybe it’s only reasonable to be nervous.”

“I know why it bothers you,” Argrave said, placing his hand on the rail and walking down the rightward flight of stairs as he assigned names to those present. “You care what people think about you.”

“Well…” he paused, then said defensively, “Everyone does.”

“There will always be some, sure. It’s never pleasant to be hated. It generally only leads to sadder days.” Argrave glanced back. “You can care less about what they think, though.”

“How?” Elias questioned.

“View things with a larger perspective,” Argrave stated simply. “Me, or you, or anyone in this room—we live relatively meagre existences. We’ll live, we’ll do things, and then we’ll die. First, we’ll die physically. Then, as time passes, people will forget us, and we die spiritually. On this plane, at least,” Argrave added. “Who knows what happens after? I don’t.”

solution for combatting anxiety is to contemplate death?” Elias frowned

the unimportance of your actions,” Argrave urged. “Being disliked by another

floor. Already, some people stepped towards them. Elaine asked

oft wins, I find. I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought my actions didn’t matter. Rather, I plan to leave an indelible mark before I leave this earthly realm—if indeed I leave it at all. Living forever

real headcase, huh?” Stain

less. Argrave had given that little monologue only to ease his nerves, and by his estimation, it worked splendidly. There was a small group

“So many beautiful people so busy looking so good. Let’s mingle, shall we? Follow, and remember—our host

viewer might comment that Argrave lacked noble graces, it proved to be no barrier to his inclusion in the conversation, and he very quickly drew

#####

through what appeared to be a simple glassless window. If one were to peer through on the other side, though, they would see only stone—it was an illusion enchantment of the highest order, and the window itself was so small that it did not draw much attention even should the magic fail. Few save the Count of Jast knew of the existence of these windows, spread throughout the entire estate. Sights and sounds both passed through the portal,

Count watched an extraordinarily tall black-haired man converse with a very sizable crowd of people, his every word drawing them in. Delbraun watched the man with such scrutiny it was as though he was trying to decipher how a magician

away, moving through a confined passageway of marble poorly lit by magic lamps. He pushed on a wall, and it flipped open. An empty bedroom lay beyond. He made sure the hidden door in the wall was in perfect alignment, then he moved to pull a string

as the count removed his white, silken vestments. After a few moments, three knocks came at the door, and then

“My younger brother is here, and

once, Count,” the servant bowed,

#####

outside my bounds and inquire about something of a political nature, good sir Argrave, I would like to ask a question of you,” a well-dressed man spoke. He had rather well-groomed facial hair, perhaps to accommodate his quickly

pleasant banquet, yes? We’re all waiting for our host to arrive, and I’d prefer

come to discover, this place was a banquet mostly in name alone. The food went largely untouched, and the majority of people were standing and speaking. Argrave was veritably surrounded by a wall of silks and suedes, so entrapped he was in well-dressed people. His company had been pushed to

man returned. “I simply wished to inquire about

do you wish to know? Yes, it’s true—the walls are

crowd. Someone offered Argrave wine, but he acted as though he didn’t notice. It wouldn’t be prudent to drink

role in the invasion,” a woman

Mateth,” Argrave deflected with a

Duke Enrico calls you the ‘Hero of Mateth.’ And a good deal of people tell me

Mateth to here,

the initial well-groomed questioner asked. “You stopped