Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave finally dared try his hand at walking once the prospect of lying in his bed began to bore him. With no books to study and only the company of his companions to keep his mind sharp, he eventually did wish to step outside and examine things.

Though he stood firm, Argrave still held onto Anneliese’s arm in case his legs gave way. “Difficult to believe I did this,” he noted, staring at the site of carnage. “Almost as difficult to believe you pulled off that plan of yours with only four knights at your command.”

“It was rather skillful, on both of our ends,” Anneliese nodded.

Argrave laughed at her unabashed confidence but did not contest the point. “I can’t wait to get back to the camp, see if things are working. The disease has been stayed, but it still persists in those that had it. There are ways to ward away the symptoms, regress the disease, but they’re few and far between. I’ll have to…” he stopped.

“What?” Anneliese pressed.

“I was going to say, ‘spread these methods in the southern territories.’” Argrave looked at the great stag’s corpse, where Silvic still knelt. “The fact that she’s still alive… I think Orion is malleable. I think that he… he might…”

“Be a better option than the rebels?” Anneliese finished.

Argrave sighed. “Didn’t say that. It would definitely be an easier time. The south is poised to have a massive disadvantage once winter ends and the war begins in earnest. Ending things smoothly and quickly will save the most lives. Working with Elenore is essential for my plans, but if I can include Orion in that equation? Teach him mercy, leniency, good rule, and basic morality? Steamroll the opposition, unite the continent against Gerechtigkeit?”

Anneliese rebutted neutrally, “But you would have to cooperate closely with his family. He loves Felipe, Induen, and all the others just as much as you. It is why he is as he is.”

Argrave rubbed his fingers together. “I know. Not to mention the ties I’d be severing—Mina, Nikoletta, Elias, and more. All of that, thrown at the foot of the Holy Fool in a desperate gamble that I can make him a good ruler. Frankly… not too fond of religion, holiness, all that. I guess it’s different, here. Gods are indisputably real. Some of them give genuine power—one of them does so right now,” Argrave rubbed at his chest. The magic debt he’d accrued was the largest yet, but with the near exponential growth brought about by his black blood, he couldn’t say it would take the longest amount of time to repay it.

“If you wish me to be honest…” Anneliese adjusted her arms, and Argrave, who’d been leaning on her, adjusted with the movement. “I view the gods like nobles or kings. They have their systems in place, and you might engage with them sometime to get what you want. Elsewise… let them be. Veid is no different—though do not speak a word of this to Galamon.”

Argrave nodded with her words, feeling them resonate somewhat. “Didn’t take you for a cynic, given how calm and kind you are to most anyone.”

show kindness to those I can relate to,” Anneliese refuted. “It is difficult to relate to a god.” She

do?”

told me what must be done, and that does not change based on the side you support—we gain a reputation as minor heroes after halting the plague, we gain status by becoming High Wizards in the Order of the Gray Owl,

so smooth and unblemished, anymore—he

is something to deal with. Postpone it, perhaps. Maintain good relations,

approaching enemies. After sharing a brief glance, Anneliese and Argrave slowly made to where the whistle had come from.

them as

the Waxknights joined up with them. The mist enshrouding the wetlands had grown lighter and lighter in the time that passed, yet it was still sufficient to

prince seem all the larger. Most of his armor had worn away, leaving him with few patches of metal atop his underclothes. Despite all of this… he still

his hand on his shoulder. The prince had always towered over him, but now more than ever, Argrave felt like a child before him. “Look at you,” he said. “You

Argrave assured him, hoping to escape whatever

vanquished. As many as could be, at the very least. The armored centaur escaped my grasp once again, and not because of some lapse of judgement on my part as it had been last

“Matesh,” Argrave finished.

or what remains of him… in his throne room soon, discuss what must be done.” Orion’s gray eyes finally moved

pushed past all of them, walking towards Silvic with a determined gait. Argrave tried to move quickly to walk side by side with him, yet his legs very nearly failed him.

“Orion, I—”

have thought much about this, Argrave. You will watch.

hope it’s not, ‘no compromise,’ he considered as he hurried to

towards where Silvic still leaned against the corpse of the wetland spirit Rastzintin. The Plague Jester’s body rested off to the side, somehow spared from the

the dead white stag. The wooden spirit’s light had faded so much it appeared dim in the light of day. Orion appeared like some fell god of war come to judge Silvic, strands of his jet-black hair whipping about

so I ended her. Yet now… I change my offer. The people here in these wetlands—they were wronged by our conquest. False followers of the faith came here, seeking not to spread the reach of the gods, but

will not ask the people here to worship Vasquer. You will take over as the shepherd of this land, leading it back into what it once was. You will teach the people of what once was here, and what was lost. Vasquer will cede this land to you, utterly… so long as you, alone, devote yourself to the pantheon. The swamp folk will be given this land, and they may worship you,