Jackal Among Snakes

“…so, in time, I’ll need to return to them to officiate things. The date of the attack, who they’re collaborating with… so on and so forth,” Argrave explained to Brium, sitting across from him. Yarra stood behind him, hands behind her rigid back like she was a bodyguard.

They had returned from the oasis town of the southron elves. It was very late in the evening, and Argrave was quite hungry—he had not eaten since morning. Business came before that, though. As Florimund had instructed, Argrave had broken the sword in the desert. The southron elves were soon to migrate, travelling through the mountains to another home of theirs.

Anneliese had ensured Yarra did nothing out of place the whole while, and as far as Argrave could tell, no one suspected anything. The manifold uses of druidic magic were making themselves known already, though the Brumesingers were far from manifesting their full capabilities. Argrave needed to feed them souls. A strange need, truthfully, but considering the commonality of death, it was much better than your standard pet food.

“Hmm… the southron elves,” Brium mused. “It’s a little unbelievable, but those illusion magics… no one else can replicate them, certainly. They’ve caused the Vessels no end of trouble. How many were they?”

“If you mean ready to fight? Near two hundred,” Argrave exaggerated, attempting to bolster Brium’s confidence.

“Then… excellent work,” Brium leaned back into the chair. “But it doesn’t escape me that you used Yarra to bolster your personal wealth—those pets of yours. They’re certainly more for you than for my cause.”

“Well…” one of the Brumesingers poked itself out of Argrave’s clothes, and he pet its giant furry ears. “I’m no saint.”

Brium chuckled—it sounded fake. After, he raised his hand to his face. “I think I’ve figured you out.”

Argrave furrowed his brows, thrown off. The Brumesinger, no longer being pet, hid itself away once more.

“You’re testing the limits. I don’t think it’s of any genuine concern, presently,” Brium held a hand out, reassuring Argrave. “I’ll warn you, though. A limit broken before a Vessel will not result in merely a warning,” Brium leaned in. “It should not escape you that the punishment for any crime is death. Considering what I know…”

“I also know that you’re compelled to punish me. Not forced,” Argrave returned. “We’re doing great work together, so far.”

Brium stared down Argrave, running a hand across his coppery skin. Eventually he nodded. “You’ve done well. The Vessels have been looking for the southron elves for centuries. Not a single success, before you came along—only abandoned towns, ruined places. There has been little cause to hunt them in recent decades. Their mages are all dead and gone, and we seized and burned their books of spells. Nothing more remains of them to challenge Fellhorn’s authority.”

“Any predictions on when Aurum and Argent will make their move?” Argrave probed.

“They’re gathering guards,” the Lord of Copper answered idly at once. “Negating my influence in the city. Trying to stifle my income, my workers. Vessels beneath me are being tempted with wealth, power… but the core of my power isn’t in Sethia. I keep that which truly belongs to me in Cyprus. In here.”

“But when?” Argrave pressed. “I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”

“A week, most likely two,” Brium shook his head. “You have time to do more before the fighting.”

tilted his head. “Not planning on letting

moment, as

just don’t think that you’re leaving things to chance with the

him for a long while. “I have to speak with Yarra. Go, rest,” he finally

#####

relieved to be free of Yarra, though he was not pleased to be carrying around his own backpack once again. Between the three furballs roaming about in his

well so far,” Argrave commentated, walking quickly down the road.

ahead, wearing a set of baggy robes. They carried a large stick of sorts, the top of it wrapped it cloth. Argrave merely felt it

cautious,” he urged, stepping ahead of

simply pass him by, but the robed figure came to stand boldly before them. He didn’t lower his hood,

my saviors, is

He had a golden tattoo just below his eye, acting like an extension of his golden pupils, and a handsome, confident face that practically screamed ‘heartbreaker.’ His

but that meant little—they were in the middle of a wide-open road, and

I don’t really like talking through third parties. I like to confront my

time, and Argrave hadn’t expected Durran to talk to him at all. The unexpected situation left him at

They were right,” he

you,” Argrave whispered, eliciting a chuckle from Durran. “Get the hell out of here. You maybe think there’s a reason I went to a

you do know me,” Durran noted. “Pretty

too much to drink that night,” dismissed Argrave. “Forget this. Keep walking,” Argrave directed

saw her. I was the last she spoke to, and I stumbled across her by pure chance. I’m pretty damned sure she’d mention any meeting with a weird looking party like

Durran strode

key to turn your lives

you, too, now that you’ve got some suspicion he’s two-faced,”

could get

if the man he knew was crazy enough to do something

for our

grinned. “We’ll

#####

distance, where the looming walls of Elbraille were not even visible in the all-consuming darkness. He and Stain sat in their carriage, moving through the night and towards the city. Their cavalry marched quietly towards the gates of the city, but there was a somber air throughout the whole party. The death of Bruno had affected more than simply Elias, he knew, but he needed to