Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stepped into Orion’s camp in the ruined fortress, walking past the vast tents and buildings full of refugees. His stride was confident, but the Brumesingers walking at his feet were somewhat frenzied, betraying his true nervousness. Everyone watched him walk—this time, not because of his imposing height, but because of the two following behind: Silvic and Drezki.

His entry into the camp was like a great ripple that intensified rather than weakened. Though the sick could not be bothered to stir, those tending to them did, and soon enough, near half the camp was bustling with activity. Nothing would ever abate the nervousness of being the center of attention, Argrave thought.

Two golden armored knights rushed up before Argrave, drawing their glimmering swords from their scabbards. Argrave stepped out to meet them, holding his arms wide as he yelled, “You will stop!” His authoritative words did slow them, but they kept proceeding, forcing Argrave to add, “I am Orion’s brother!”

With their Holiness being invoked, the Waxknights did indeed draw to a sliding stop not two feet away from Argrave. Already, mist from his Brumesingers danced in the air, ready to attack if anything threatened him.

“Orion sought proof,” Argrave began, gaze alternating between the two Waxknights. “I have brought it.”

#####

The camp remained bustling in the time that passed since Argrave had brought Silvic to Orion’s camp. A retinue of twelve Waxknights guarded them. Everyone able enough to walk in the refugee camp gawked at the humanoid wetland spirit. Silvic remained largely silent and still, but the sight of her wooden body flowing with radiant liquid light was awe-inspiring even when she did nothing. Fewer stared at the short and squat swampland woman Drezki with her greenish skin and yellow eyes, but her presence only intensified the scrutiny placed upon them.

Anneliese looked greatly discomforted by the attention—she had once confided to him large crowds were difficult for her—and so Argrave did his best to keep her at ease while they waited for Orion. Regarding his other two companions, Galamon was ever unflappable while Durran somewhat enjoyed the scrutiny of the crowd, all but striking a pose for those watching.

It was easy to notice Prince Orion coming. He himself stood a foot and a half above the taller people in the crowd, and the people parted for his coming like the Red Sea had for another prophet of myth. Argrave kept his gaze on him as he walked closer, Argrave’s dark golden eyes meeting Orion’s gray the whole way through. Eventually, Orion strode past the Waxknights, ordering them to put their swords away with a simple gesture. They obeyed without question and kneeled before him.

Prince Orion stood before Argrave. His eyes were markedly colder than their first meeting had been. Argrave was glad to be spared of a back-breaking embrace, but that was about the only good feeling swirling around in his chest at that moment. Orion stood above him, above even Galamon, and seeing the anger writ in his face was like having the roaring jaw of a Kodiak bear near your throat.

“What profane thing have you brought into this camp of followers of the faith, Argrave?” Orion questioned, his voice cold and unsympathetic. The affectionate calls of ‘brother’ were gone.

Argrave kept his composure despite his fear—he was growing quite adept at that. “You asked for proof, brother. I brought it before you.”

Orion looked past Argrave, staring at Silvic. He stepped around him, looking down and locking gazes with Galamon briefly. After, he took heavy steps that seemed to shake the earth. Drezki stood between Silvic and Orion, posturing like a child trapped between two adults. She was only barely to Orion’s stomach, but she stood strong nonetheless.

“Rest assured,” Argrave called out. “I would not have brought Silvic here were she a danger to everyone.”

Orion turned his back to Silvic, his white robe brushing against the muddy ground below as his gaze fixed upon Argrave. “What is it?”

“I am Silvic, one of many spirits of the wetlands, and a god to the swamp folk,” Silvic answered, her voice without an obvious source emanating from all directions causing a great stir in all of the people present.

Orion turned his head back to the wetland spirit ever so slowly. His fists were clenched tightly enough to trigger the protective enchantments on his gauntlet, and they shone brightly, barely preventing the metal from folding in on itself.

about the followers of the

fixed on Silvic’s form. Slowly, his gaze turned back to Argrave. The insane frigidity in his eyes had faded somewhat,

Argrave let out a sigh of

had taken him, Anneliese, and

shared—is it something that needs to be kept secret from the people?” Magnus chimed in, pushing his way past. The crowd did not part for him as it had Orion, evidently, and indeed, it seemed he had little goodwill among the people here. Even though Argrave thought it was a reasonable enough sentiment to garner

said, though, very obviously

way she would tap his foot if someone lied—if she had something to note about the emotions of those present, she would

why do you consort with such profane things, such heretics? What can

conversation. With a crowd of zealous followers around and Magnus whispering in Orion’s ear, the odds felt stacked against him… but the fight yesterday had been at a disadvantage before Argrave turned it around. At least, that was what he

mitigate his influence. “The people have every right to know why they are wrought with this disease. They should understand what Orion and I will

and cheered, Anneliese whispered in Argrave’s

for Argrave to process fully—too many possibilities abounded in his head—and

fighting against a great evil that has taken root in the wetlands,” Argrave preached. “This evil was born of evil—it was born of the extermination of the people of these swamps, when Vasquer conquered this place decades ago.” Argrave turned on his heel. “Silvic. Please, tell all

down Argrave like he was a fool, while Silvic placed her

the many spirits of the wetland took in those people of the swamp that survived the invasion by Vasquer,” Silvic explained. “Many of the spirits had died in the invasion… and of those that persisted, one sought revenge against Vasquer for the deaths of many: Rastzintin, the strongest of us wetland spirits. He collaborated with one of the last great shamans of the swamp folk. She

daring to interrupt. “One after another they fell, each House established succumbing in a multitude of ways. If you seek proof of the truth of my tales, I will show you the magic they weaved to turn this fortress we stand upon

seem at risk of exploding anytime soon. Magnus twitched and rubbed

many other spirits of the wetlands, attempted to stop this folly. Yet Rastzintin was

even a so-called god marred as they were by the

can prove this fortress fell to

“I can,” Silvic confirmed.

you swear before all you hold dear… that you speak

I speak the truth. If I do not, may the world itself burn me and all

back to Argrave. His gaze

strode up beside Orion. Argrave watched him carefully,

is no room for argument,” Magnus

aback by the support. Magnus leaned in and

“What has Silvic informed

and more. I can tell you

and Drezki. “Will

shook her head