Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 191

Orion pushed Durran forward. The tribal moved with the push, turning and sitting on a chair ahead of him. The chair tipped to one side from the force, but Durran put his foot down and got his balance quickly. The prince stepped around Durran as he sat there, catching his breath.

Durran stayed quiet as Orion walked around him, turning his head to ensure the prince was always in his sight, even if only just. There was one thing that life had taught him—you could always say more later, but words spoken can’t be taken back. He stayed quiet, waiting, despite the fact his insides were turning with nervousness. The image of Drezki’s skull being crushed played in his head again and again, and he found himself watching Orion’s hands.

Orion had taken Durran into one of the deepest parts of the abandoned keep. Here, much of the walls had collapsed entirely, but overgrowing plants gave the illusion that they were still inside. He could hear dripping water somewhere, but beyond that, there was only his own breath and Orion’s steady pacing. Some water had flooded the place, causing the occasional splash as the prince’s feet fell.

Time passed like this for what seemed like an eternity. Orion simply walked around Durran time and time again, gray eyes staring down at him coldly. Durran thought nearly half an hour had passed, but he still stuck to his plan of saying nothing.

The prince knelt down before Durran, placing his face so close he could feel his breath. It startled him, and Durran reeled back his head.

“Did you kill my brother?” Orion asked simply, voice a low whisper.

Durran tried to speak, but his voice failed him. After swallowing, he said, “No.”

Orion moved his hand forward slowly and wrapped it around Durran’s neck. His fingers were uncomfortably long. “I can feel your blood flow. Every beat of your heart. It will tell me if you lie. I’ll ask again: did you kill my brother?”

“No,” repeated Durran, neck tight in apprehension.

“Did you have anything to do with my brother’s death?” Orion pressed, fingers steady as steel.

“No,” Durran said again. He swallowed, Adam’s apple pushing against Orion’s hand unpleasantly.

Orion stared straight at Durran’s eyes, and both held their gaze unflinchingly. The prince’s stare seemed to be piercing into his soul. Orion’s fingers straightened, releasing Durran from their grip.

“I couldn’t actually tell anything from that,” Orion confessed in a dire whisper.

Durran blinked in a mixture of confusion and shock.

Orion put his hand on his knee and remained kneeling in front of Durran. “Are you truly a faithful of Vasquer?”

Durran hesitated only a beat before answering, “Yes,” with a slow, steady nod.

The prince’s jaw clenched. “Were you always?”

“No,” Durran answered quickly.

Orion stood, staring down at him. “Why did you abandon your old faith?”

Durran stared up at the prince, blinking as he considered his answer carefully. “…because of Argrave,” he said, hoping to use that man as his saving grace.

Durran was hanging on by a thread, it felt like. Argrave had told him of some of the gods of Vasquer in case he had to interact with Orion, but the information didn’t stick well. He knew little of the Vasquer faith, any of its gods, or its religious practices. He barely knew his own people’s gods. All he knew was that Fellhorn trampled upon his people, and the gods were not his friend. All he could hope was that Argrave’s name might keep this man’s wrath away from him.

“What did Argrave say to you?” Orion grasped Durran’s chin, angling it upwards.

Durran took more time to think, then answered in staccato speech on account of his held chin, “Not what he said. What he did.”

Orion pulled Durran forward, and the tribal strained, standing up off the chair. “What did he do?” Orion insisted.

Durran put his hands on Orion’s wrist and managed to loosen his chin enough to speak normally. “He killed a herald for the strongest god in the Burnt Desert. Fellhorn, the god of rain and floods. An ancient god. And more than that, he saved my life.”

released Durran, and he collapsed back

did he

yet more. The Lords of

your faith?” Orion

lost faith,” Durran

lost already, you cannot be a true

not be a lie after all. The man had defended him so readily against

stared down Durran. “How? What did he say? What did

things,” Durran shook his

his stare steady for another uncomfortably long while. Then, he sat down, uncaring of the slightly

“Tell me,” Orion commanded.

#####

did not

of stopping Orion from doing whatever he pleased clung to him like a disease. Though the prince had said some time ago he envied Argrave’s ability to persuade people, the reality remained that this weapon had failed him entirely. Durran was taken elsewhere because of something that

solutions that did not exist, only one thing eventually offered him any comfort—studying the B-rank spell [Bloodfeud Bow]. The past few days’ eagerness to breach the barrier to a higher rank of magic morphed into an obsession, fueled

matrix it conjured. Though Galamon and Anneliese both attempted to pull him from the task to seek rest, he stubbornly refused to listen. After a time, even Anneliese gave up the idea of persuading him, and merely stood guard as Argrave studied.

as a protest, or a proclamation of innocence. Argrave

the side, someone emerged from the keep. When he saw golden

one motion, he cast aside the book and ran towards him. His eyes checked many spots, searching

hell did

put a damn hand on me. If some giant moron with big hands touches me once more, I’m going to lose my

Argrave frowned, perplexed.

#####

towards the keep.

ask

mainly,” Durran

perplexed. His gaze went to Galamon, then Anneliese. “He might talk to you, next, then. Corroborate the

his arms,

daily for lesson on the Vasquer pantheon,” Durran crouched down by the mud. “What did

at Durran, feeling great sympathy

crouching Durran. “Did you have anything to do with

that because you’re tired, otherwise I’m going to bash my head against a rock until I pass to

“So, no,” Argrave concluded.

I had nothing to do with it,” Durran stood. “If I’d known things would end like

hip. “You offered to do

hands up

to hold her, like she was a feather that could be blown away by any stray wind. This event served as a reminder that he was

the harsh treatment—not me,” she reminded

nodding. He was

again and again, like some mantra vested in him. Never again. You must have the power to say ‘no.’ If Durran died because of

in two more days. Still, even if he had that power

again. He’d been too lax—too content. He had gained much, and that had led him to rest on his laurels. He

a veritable flame as steady as a pilot light. He looked at Durran who

now? He’s dead.” Durran

“Durran,” Argrave said patiently.

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