Jackal Among Snakes

To see the ever-diligent Orion neglect his perceived duty to the people was already disquieting enough… but the prince led Argrave further and further away from the camp, heading into the swamps. His only comfort was the knowledge that Orion wouldn’t need seclusion to kill him. Argrave stayed quiet—he felt the need to say something, anything, but he was so off-rhythm that he feared to bring up a topic that might cause an issue.

They came to a great depression in the wetlands. At the center, many similarly shaped stones had been stacked in an orderly heap that marked it as manmade. Argrave recognized this place—it had been made by the swamp folk. It was a graveyard of sorts. Each stones marked the passing of one of theirs. Now, much of it had been grown over by moss or carried away by rains.

Orion stepped ahead of Argrave and stopped. “Argrave. Do you have faith in the gods?”

Argrave digested Orion’s question in an attempt to discern his purpose, yet he wasn’t able to glean why Orion had brought him here with that question alone.

“I know that the gods are real, and that they affect this world,” Argrave said truthfully.

Orion nodded. “Yet do our ninety-six have potential beyond Vasquer, in your eyes? And be honest. Sycophancy earns only my ire.”

Argrave stared at Orion seriously. “Our gods can spread across all of Berendar if the right actions are taken,” he said in all truthfulness.

That was how it was in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ certainly. If the player sided with Orion in the civil war, that fate was inevitable.

Orion placed both of his hands behind his back and strode towards the stones in the depression ahead. “Indeed, an apt way to put it. ‘If the right actions are taken,’” the prince repeated.

Argrave stepped a little closer after Orion, before the prince stopped and turned towards him. His eyes were closed as he spoke.

“Kreit, Achiel, Irae, Tuur, Pilth, Gael, Razan, Wellwin, Malac, Zellum, Moder…”

Orion carried on and on, listing what Argrave knew to be all of the gods in the Vasquer pantheon. Argrave could probably say what they governed if he had their names, but he certainly couldn’t remember all of those names.

After finishing his list, Orion opened his eyes and clenched his fist before him. “Those I speak to, even though I bless them—heal them—as a proxy for the gods, the people… the people sing my praises.”

Prince Orion started to cry. His tears were molten silver, and when they hit the ground, the wetlands steamed.

“The people are ignorant of the true agent of their welfare… it makes me weep,” he continued, choked up. “I speak to the people… and though they name the common gods, though they pray to Gael for justice… few can name more than five,” he lifted his head up the sky.

“Then, I wonder why I heal them,” Orion said, voice colder than the grave. The tears he’d shed rose from where they fell, reentering his gray eyes as though erasing his sadness. “They place only an idol of Gael in their house and pray for righteous justice to carry them through life. They forget all else yet have the gall to call themselves the faithful of Vasquer. Such thoughts… such impious thoughts…” he shuddered terribly, and then knelt on the ground. “Do you share them?” he looked up at Argrave.

Argrave looked down to Orion where he knelt and suggested, “Can people be blamed when they aren’t taught?”

above him. “Precisely so,” Orion agreed. “And this

back towards the cairn. Argrave called out after him, “You wanted to

the pile of stones before him, kicking one away. He turned

my own royal knights called me

a brow.

the plague. That I would give them my blessing when the time came, and they would be all the stronger for it. Back then… they loathed me. Even

Argrave listened patiently.

into a large stone beneath, and it crumbled easily beneath his force. “Would they swear an oath they do not intend to follow? Why? Would they speak lies so easily? For what purpose? Though the founder of House Vasquer spoke lies freely,

“Ask them,” Argrave suggested.

and idiots to doubt me.” He took a deep breath and exhaled, then shook his head. “It is only my actions that earned me their loyalty. The oath they swore, the promises I gave… they

placed his hand to his chest. “I have never told another this, Argrave… but I know men fear me, loathe me. The people that come to this camp, they come with eyes squinted tight in suspicion, bodies braced to run in fear. It is only when I deliver them the blessing imparted to me that they bare their hearts

about where

should praise the gods before me. My own knights call me ‘holiness,’ when that is not what I am. I am a prince of Vasquer, blessed

corpse onto the mud, staining the white robe he wore completely. “I wish to help the people with these blessings. But I do not understand them. Despite my promises, they trust me

mud. “People will spread word

was on his side, then lightly bashed the side of his head into the mud, dirtying his long black braid of hair. “That is limited,” he said sadly. He turned to his back, then stared up at Argrave with his gray eyes. “Tell me—what gods do you invoke most

of Berendar.’ “I like Zellum, the god

course. Tireal patronizes

was easiest to remember. It was important for the

expression, and for a few

know those,” Orion finally said. He started to cry again, and he wiped his face with muddy hands. Argrave stood around

Argrave. “You spoke to that crowd yesterday. All the faithful of Vasquer, ostensibly… and yet with your words, you eased their suspicion of that heretical thing… that wetland spirit. I cannot say its name,”

was necessary,” Argrave defended himself

in my ears…” Orion clenched his head as if remembering something. “I am drawn

Argrave swallowed, worried.

nervousness. He rose to

Argrave

even elves,” Orion prodded Argrave’s chest. “Your words can sway them. Not action.

Argrave said,

it is good to know I am not alone in my feelings.” Orion looked back towards the cairn. “It is clear to me that this kingdom needs reform. Faith in the gods dwindles. Faith in the royal family has sunk even lower,” Orion said, shaking his head in distress. “I will not challenge Induen. By the grace of the gods, he is the divinely anointed heir.” He looked to Argrave. “But

words despite himself. He took a deep breath, then questioned, “What do you