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.”

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

time.” Argrave looked to his companions, and all looked confused by the expression. “Er… I mean, I want things

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

Argrave ruffled Garm’s hair. “You stay near the final sluice, and you raise it to start and stop the flooding after

“Don’t

sure,” 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 place. So… any objections to this

elaborate a bit more,” urged Anneliese.

Argrave nodded. “From the beginning,

#####

with Alasdair at their head. Though the setting was entirely different, it brought back some memories. Last time things began like this, they ended very poorly. Argrave was a bit more confident

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 enemies might not even give chase,

Not like they can escape it now, though, Argrave thought, using that

two were having,” Argrave spoke at a fair volume, his voice ragged and rough. He sounded like a chain-smoker when he spoke loudly, but Garm assured him that would change in a few days. His limbs felt weak, taking deep breaths was still painful, and Argrave could not exert himself, but he had no choice

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

first option: he could get the Unsullied Knife now by dealing with a group of weary, cautious Stonepetal Sentinels who had already seen the

get 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 had at least two A-rank spellcasters at that fort—Jean

confronting them here held more appeal. The preparations he had made

of his sword.

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 managed. And here I

out and

entourage before him. The place had been filled by the corpses of vampires, Sentinels, and Guardians. It

work in here. I would say ‘Couldn’t have done it better myself,’ but… well.” He looked to Alasdair. “I think you saw the central lobby on

were also flanked by spellcasters at the same or higher rank than

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 shining lights of the library beyond the iron bars grimly illuminated

of the Stonepetal Sentinels

have gone easy for the both of us. I could have taken you here, we could have

arms wide. “We’re here now, having 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 think

stared at Argrave unflinchingly. He seemed disappointed--likely due to Garm’s absence. “I can’t trust you. You were dishonest from the beginning. House Blackgard doesn’t even exist,”

see. Guess I shouldn’t have… well, it doesn’t matter. You want honesty

give you honesty. I am Argrave

with me,” Alasdair said,

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 light from the library fell

settled over as they took in his

a prince, you’d have an

his head. “And

breath, thinking. Ossian asked, “Why not say

prudent for a prince to roam about using his name carelessly when he’s in the heart of the territory of an enemy rebellion,” Argrave mocked sarcastically. “Though… with things as they are, I suppose