Jackal Among Snakes

Delphasium, Mistress Tatia’s town, could not be called grand in scale, though the shining marble streets inside made it seem like a pearl amidst the desert. That place was far behind them, and Argrave felt it had been a suitable welcome to the Burnt Desert.

The mining city, Malgeridum, was giant compared to Delphasium, yet it lacked the magnificence the simple trading town had. It stood at the point where the sand dunes began to fade in way of hills of black rock and dirt, cratered deep into the earth. It had walls, but the city itself was so much lower than the surrounding terrain it was difficult to spot them from a distance. The first thing most would spot was rising smoke from the ever-burning furnaces, and the tarps waving in the wind to ward off sand.

The road to Malgeridum forked into two separate entrances, each for a distinct district. One district was obviously more maintained than the other, made for residential use, while the other was for labor and production. Argrave and his company stood beside Titus’ carriage, their bags fully packed. They would separate here—Argrave would head for the residential district while Titus would depart for the production district.

“What’s this?” Argrave held a thick round metal disc. It had eight triangles spaced equidistantly on the edge.

“A parting gift for the gentleman,” Titus explained. “I understand that the esteemed persons will be travelling to Argent. Even for those who have travelled there before, the dunes and the hills stretch on forever.” Titus looked out to the desert behind Argrave. “Just as a sailor must use the stars and a compass to mark their path across the ocean, so, too, must men in the Burnt Desert use a compass to traverse this sea of black sand.”

Argrave finally figured things out, and he flipped open the disc’s lid, revealing a bit of glassware above a simple magnetized needle. The cardinal directions were marked.

“This is…” Argrave looked down at it. “Damn. I feel pretty stupid. I was worrying about how I was going to find my way around in case things went sour, but… guess I forgot these stupid things existed,” Argrave laughed and shook his head. “I appreciate this. It’s a very considerate gift. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, exactly. Don’t you need it?”

Titus scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s an old thing, in truth, one that I used long ago. But it’s reliable, and I believe that’s the most important thing.”

Argrave nodded and closed the lid with his thumb. “You’re a nice guy, Titus.”

“The gentleman was entertaining and polite—rare company for a merchant as me. And…” he stepped away, retrieving a simple red cloth wrapped around something rectangular. “Here. The madam expressed enjoyment of the Bitterbite leaves, and so I took the liberty to prepare some. Please,” he held them out to Anneliese.

She took them from his hands. “Such a thoughtful gift,” she smiled warmly.

Argrave felt something unpleasant in his chest, and he found himself stepping forward between the two of them. “So, you’re headed to the production district to unload things?” he addressed Titus.

“Yes, my men and I will be headed that way,” Titus confirmed. “I apologize, but I could not think of a gift for the second gentleman, Galamon…”

Galamon shook his head. “I have all I need.”

“I appreciate all you’ve done.” Argrave held his hand out, holding ten gold coins in hand stacked atop each other. “Here. I know you didn’t ask, but don’t refuse.”

Titus blinked for a moment, biting his lips in clear hesitance. Eventually, Argrave grabbed his wrist and dropped the coins in his hand.

“The gentleman is generous,” Titus sighed. “May your days be vigorous, and your nights tranquil,” he placed his hand on his chest and bowed deeply.

“Maybe not too­ vigorous,” Argrave said musingly. “I wish you well.”

Titus straightened, nodded, and whistled with his fingers. At once, his men spurred the camel forward, and they moved down the road, heading for the production district.

away, feeling

again, finally,” Garm

eyes hiding behind Galamon’s helmet atop his backpack. He really leaves himself open for low blows. So much mean

away to the mining city ahead. “Even still, we have to get inside quickly, find a place to stay. Don’t want to linger

#####

the bare essential

word ‘barren’ was the best fit to describe the place. The Vessels in this city were not so liberal with their resources—not a drop of water could be found anywhere, and every field of crops had tall fences with guards stationed. People lined up outside a stately building, tokens in their hands. The tokens marked hours worked, and the people would exchange them

each building was packed very closely together, enough so that people could not walk side-by-side in some areas. A few of the buildings were small enough that Argrave could see the roof if he craned his neck a little. It made traversing

they had come from. There was a strange, industrial scent hanging about most of the air from the mines, furnaces, and forges, and Argrave was glad that his lungs had recovered from that disease he’d caught in the Low Way. Most people walked about with cloth about their face to protect their airways, and Argrave found himself

the decrepit clay houses, eventually the streets opened to accommodate the wealthier residents of the city—Vessels, and their trusted aides.

each occupied by large beds. “Luxury brothel, as

gate, where two men stood on guard. “Hello,” he greeted. “Like to rent a room for the three of

Argrave, casting a glance to his fellow. “It

Argrave

questioned,

his eyes. “One night,

each,” the guard

in pure gold. It wasn’t enough to warrant using a rose gold coin, either. Even if he cared to use the larger currency, the people here would probably bilk him

not asking for your primary services, right? Just need a place to sleep?”

Master stated this price, gentleman,” the guard

his hand to his chin. “Galamon, get my lockbox, if you please.” He turned back to the man. “Tell the Master

#####

from place to place. They were beneath

tapped her elbow with the back of

know by

Argrave

mother very nearly took employment at a place like this once… when she was at Berendar. She

frowned. “Glad

dislike places like these,” Anneliese

get here,” Argrave said, waving his

Galamon grunted in agreement.

always desire this sort of thing,” Anneliese rebutted.

up a hand to stop her. “The

Zirun, a short and well-groomed man, strode across the brothel and entered beneath the canopy. He was a Vessel, lacking a mark on the back of his hand, and with the same wet

his hands out, jewelry jingling against each other. “Greetings, foreigners.

right,” Argrave confirmed,