Jackal Among Snakes

“When you said you had something to show me…” Durran trailed off, then looked to Argrave. “This is one of the last things I expected. You’re…”

“Not a necromancer, no,” Argrave shook his head. “He is, though. And he wishes to speak with you. The southron elves don’t care much about necromancy, so fret not.”

Durran stared down at Garm, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Not ominous at all,” he nodded his head slowly. “Listen… I—”

“You should listen,” interjected Garm annoyedly. “Argrave. Let me speak to him alone.”

Argrave looked down at Garm. “Sure about that? What if…”

“If he ends me… avenge me, pretty please?” Garm mocked. “Just put me in the sand, walk away. The elves need to talk to you—that much I know. This one’s too bothered to be of much help. I’ll talk to him.”

Argrave shrugged, then planted Garm into the sand. “Alright. Be gentle, Durran—he’s more sensitive than he looks.” He walked away in long strides, casting glances backward occasionally.

“I know this is bizarre,” Garm began once Argrave was far away. “But I don’t want to be slowly introduced to you. I don’t have the luxury of patience, grooming you to understand what I am. I need to speak, now.”

“This is some…” Durran ran his fingers through his matted hair. “What are you?”

“Living misery,” Garm introduced himself. “And Garm, High Wizard of the Order of the Rose.”

Durran stared for a moment, then shook his head. “This should mean something to me?”

Garm sighed. “Foolish of me to think one secluded in the mountain would know of my order… It doesn’t matter. I was once an A-rank mage. Still am, technically… but limited, as you can plainly see. Argrave has been accommodating me the past month.”

Durran shifted on his feet. “Alright. Still not getting the full picture, but… you’re a powerful spellcaster. You were a powerful spellcaster,” he amended. “Still don’t see why we should be speaking. Still don’t know… how you speak,” he added, obviously disturbed as he gazed at the stake protruding downwards from his neck.

“I’m speaking to you because we’re alike, and we’ve gone through similar things.” Garm paused, then lowered his voice. “Galamon, the big one—how near is he?”

Durran said nothing, very suspicious. Eventually, he scanned the distance, then said, “Pretty far.”

“How far?” insisted Garm in a whisper.

“One… two hundred feet, I guess.”

“It should be fine, then, but keep your voice down. That one hears all, and I won’t draw suspicion by conjuring a ward.” Garm cleared his throat—an action that disturbed Durran—and then continued. “You. I can practically smell it on you. The frustration with other people. The frustration with yourself. Your weakness. Your ineffectual leadership.”

“Are you about to tell me not to feel this way? A head on a stick comes to cheer me up because we’re similar?” Durran laughed. “What is this, a joke? Comedy can’t solve all woes, if this is what you’re getting at.”

“But you’re also pragmatic,” Garm continued in a low mutter. “And after that little awakening back at Sethia, doubtless you’re feeling a bit… disillusioned. You’re realizing how stupid the average person is.”

at Garm, silenced by his

No more than dirt, unable to enact meaningful change.

back some of their fire as he stared down at Garm. “In totality? You’re taking the putdown a

“I needed options. I needed a way

stared down at Garm cautiously. “Can’t

I’m losing my mind every day.

turn to comfort you?”

like me. Damned

love me, I’ll have

a mistake. I’ve had my fun in the sun, believe me—you can’t fool me,” Garm answered, undaunted. “You can

can agree on that, at

You’re weak. You resent this. You’re proud of being talented, of being handsome, of being superior… not for vanity, but because you believe that you can handle

if he’d heard a sentence he’d been thinking for

“I know you don’t pity me. I wouldn’t. But I… I know power. I know power better than any of the people you’ve seen today. Any you’ve seen die today. Brium, Quarrus, that golden

out well for

help me. Quietly. Argrave, Galamon, Anneliese, even your lizard pet—you’ll tell no one of our arrangement. And…

universally bad idea to accept a bargain with a

Order of the Rose knew of him, too. You’re going to follow along—he wants

brows, then finally whispered,

#####

brought back. Argrave certainly wasn’t going to sleep. The elves of the village treated Argrave strangely—treated him as simultaneously a guest and a danger. He supposed it was respect.

didn’t give news, first. Instead, Florimund asked

Argrave confirmed. “They

his head, his large

you advice. What happened at

is already the de facto leader,” Florimund shook his head. “He took control quickly. But… well, it did not feel like an armed takeover. He had medical needs tended to, food distributed, water collected, shelters established…” Florimund retrieved something. “And he gave me this.

down. Light was dim,

it?” Argrave

promises of supplement, aid, cooperation. Permits free entry into Sethia, gives exemptions from tolls and

very good thing. And that might be the problem. A

paper. Argrave conjured light, scanning the document quickly. The ink was old and dry, suggesting the document had been drafted some time ago. “We have to recognize Sethia as independent… support Titus as its leader… and agree to use their soon-to-be minted coins in all of our dealings.

Florimund described with his own eyes as he read

to argue against the document. This was regarding

to gain this power. He tried to frame one of his allies when it was politically expedient.” Florimund stepped away. “I cannot make the decisions for my people, though. I will tell them everything—believe me, I am as wary of Titus

“Don’t forget he was ready to kill more people had I not

taking the paper. “Instead, he suggests cooperation. He seemed… amenable to negotiations, too, if we were unsatisfied with the proposal.” The elf held the paper close to his face. “We are isolated, protected. With the

eternally grateful for your help. What you’ve done… what you lost,” Argrave noted, looking away