Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stared out, once again, into Nodremaid. The bleak and inconstant red light coming from the ceiling seemed a salve for the constant darkness they had been subject to inside the Menagerie. Argrave’s party had come here only after Galamon had done significant scouting. Ossian had returned to the fortress in front of the Low Way some days ago, and returned with a second party, numbering near forty—amongst them was Alasdair.

“Do you know a very interesting principle about water?” Argrave quizzed Anneliese, staring out into the distance.

“Could you ask a vaguer question?” Anneliese shot back.

“Water always runs downhill,” Argrave looked at Anneliese, brushing her sarcasm aside.

“…I think that is true of most liquids,” she said after a time.

“Very good,” Argrave turned his head away. “Just checking to be sure you knew.”

She breathed out lightly in some amusement, then pressed, “Why are you bringing this up?”

“The canals,” Argrave raised a finger, pointing at them. “They have sluices. They’re part of the path that I need to take to get the Crimson Wellspring—divert the water right, you get a dry path you can take to get up to it. But then… I got to thinking. We opened the lower levels, didn’t we?”

“…oh,” she nodded, understanding things.

“These Stonepetal Sentinels… they’re real nasty people. I was thinking real hard, running things through my head I might say to win them over to my side… and maybe I could,” Argrave looked up at the ceiling. “But these people… I think I got them wrong from the start.”

“How so?” asked Galamon.

“They’re cowards,” Argrave said, looking at Galamon. “Like you, apparently.”

Galamon frowned. “I didn’t mean that I—"

“Don’t get mad,” Argrave looked back to the canals. “I just mean… they live in fear of the outside, and they live in fear of what’s in here. They don’t trust anything… because they’re scared.” Argrave sighed, then frowned when he felt some pain in his chest.

“Fear keeps people alive,” Garm rebuked.

“Just let me make my point,” Argrave shook his head. “You can’t reason with these people. Hardly even worth it to try. And… well, I’m damn tired of acting nice to people who couldn’t spare but a single spell for my welfare. The scraping and the bowing, the false flattery… it has its uses, but I think I’ve been relying on it too much.”

“So you intend to flood the lower levels, kill them?” Anneliese asked.

“I don’t think that’s possible. Despite its current state, this city was well-made. Even if the canals overflow, a drainage system will correct things quickly enough.” Argrave looked around. “I just need to… well, I’ve said it. I need to scare them. I know that’s possible. I intend to turn their caution against them. Especially Alasdair’s.”

“What do you mean?” Galamon pressed.

“That one wants to be leader of the Sentinels, no matter what. He needs a good achievement. Wiping out the vampires… that was mostly Ossian’s thing, and he’s young and bold. I imagine Alasdair sees him as his chief competition to replace their missing leader, Claude. As such…” Argrave looked at Garm. “I imagine he’ll want to get into the library. And quickly.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Garm asked concernedly. “I can’t open the library. It was well-managed by select Order members. Now that they’re dead… well, I can’t imagine anyone can get in, unless they destroy the enchantments entirely. Near impossible to do, you know.”

If you’re absent, he won’t act against us as easily. He wants you above all, I suspect. You’re another card in

this time.” Argrave looked to his companions, and all looked confused by

sense of self-preservation had found me.” He stared up at Argrave. “I won’t do anything dangerous. Anneliese, tell

“You stay near the final sluice, and you raise it to start

agreed. “Don’t

Argrave waved his hand dismissively. “I go in. I act bold, I act unafraid—make it seem like I’m in control. After some happenings, some well-placed words, everyone falls into

a bit more,”

“From the beginning,

#####

with Alasdair at their head. Though the setting was entirely different, it brought back some memories. Last time things began

had been very cautious before approaching—Galamon had confirmed their count, the Sentinels numbering thirty-six, and Garm had confirmed there were no mages beyond B-rank. Should things go sour, Galamon was instructed to pick Argrave up and run away. Unflattering, perhaps, but Argrave was confident they could get away easily enough. Indeed, their

like they can escape it now,

him that

things as they were, Argrave knew he couldn’t expect a warm reception. Despite the many days taken for his recovery, he still felt terrible. But the Unsullied Knife would still be here, and Argrave would much rather get it

Unsullied Knife now by dealing with a group of weary,

it from their fortress later… in the heart of their power, where near two hundred of them would be waiting. In addition, he knew they

appeal. The preparations he had made further

off the pommel of his

disease out, piece by piece,” Argrave emulated what he described, then stepped forward, continuing in his hoarse voice, “It took southern grit and a sword-swallower’s finesse, but I

held his hand out and shouted, “Keep

maybe I’ll consider it,” Argrave said, but he did come to a stop. He looked about casually as though he didn’t care about the armored entourage before him. The place had been filled

well.” He looked to

also flanked by spellcasters at the same or higher rank than himself. Argrave was happy enough to have gotten through the

unison by the whole group like some sort of comedy sketch, but instead, a long silence settled throughout the lower levels of the headquarters. The

eventually asked, one of few of the Stonepetal Sentinels that did not

reclaim my family’s heirloom.” Argrave shook his head as though disappointed. “Things could have gone easy for the both of us. I could have taken you here, we could have wiped

achieved what I initially wanted, despite some… significant setbacks. I had to preserve myself, and despite that, I still gave you what you wanted most. I

words seemed to dissolve the tension somewhat. Alasdair stared at Argrave unflinchingly. He seemed disappointed--likely due to Garm’s absence. “I can’t trust you. You were

Guess I shouldn’t have… well, it

so Argrave continued. “Alright. I’ll give you honesty. I am

toy with me,” Alasdair said,

coldly, pausing to allow his lungs to rest. It was starting to hurt to speak. “Everyone should know what their king looks like—a giant of a man, as tall as me, with hair as black as night and eyes a cold, steely gray. Perhaps this light doesn’t show those features well enough,” Argrave adjusted his position so the

over as

prince, you’d have an entourage of royal

shook his head. “And it

took a deep breath, thinking. Ossian asked, “Why not say this from the

territory of an enemy rebellion,” Argrave mocked sarcastically. “Though… with things as they are, I suppose you