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.”

he won’t act against us as easily. He wants you above all, I suspect. You’re another card in my hand,” he gestured towards

and all looked confused

found me.” He stared up at Argrave. “I won’t do anything dangerous. Anneliese, tell

have us killed if you’re present,” Argrave ruffled Garm’s hair. “You stay near the final sluice, and you raise it to start and stop the flooding

Garm eventually 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.

a bit more,” urged Anneliese. “For

nodded. “From the

#####

stood before a group of numerous Sentinels once again, with Alasdair at their head. Though the setting was entirely different, it brought back some memories. Last time things

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.

like they can escape

Garm assured him that would change in a few days. His limbs felt weak, taking deep breaths was still

Unsullied Knife would still be here, and Argrave would much rather get it now before the

now by dealing with a group of weary, cautious Stonepetal Sentinels who had already seen the power he possessed. They were, further, ignorant of his Blessing of

to let them have the Unsullied Knife and get it from their fortress later… in the heart of their power, where near two hundred of them would be

confronting them here held more appeal. The

of his sword. “You cured the

my hand deep, past my throat and into my lungs… and pulled the disease out, piece by piece,” Argrave emulated what he described, then stepped forward, continuing in his hoarse voice, “It

hand out and shouted, “Keep your

place had

here. I would say ‘Couldn’t have done it better myself,’ but… well.” He looked to Alasdair. “I

spellcasters at the same or higher rank than himself. Argrave was

long silence settled throughout the lower levels of the headquarters. The shining lights of the

are you here?” Ossian eventually asked, one of few of the Stonepetal Sentinels

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

some… significant setbacks. I had to preserve myself, and despite that, I still gave you what you wanted most. I think it would be best for all of us…” Argrave’s throat failed, and his voice faded away. He paused to take a

seemed to dissolve the tension somewhat. Alasdair stared at Argrave unflinchingly. He seemed disappointed--likely due to Garm’s absence.

it was?” Argrave raised a brow in surprise. “I see. Guess I shouldn’t have… well, it doesn’t matter. You want

continued. “Alright. I’ll give you honesty.

me,” Alasdair said,

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,”

over as

have an

performing certain tasks for me,” Argrave shook his head. “And it is hard

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

for a prince to roam about using his name carelessly when he’s in the heart of the territory of an enemy rebellion,” Argrave