Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 238

Argrave took a long drink of the mildly warmed tea, having let it cool for some time. Elenore watched him—well, perhaps ‘watched’ was the wrong word, Argrave supposed. Anneliese was present, too. She held the teapot she had been rather obviously fascinated by. Her fascination probably stemmed from the fact that it needed no external heating. It was a self-contained enchanted item that could heat whatever water poured in it, and probably cost an exorbitant sum.

“You’re quite incautious,” Elenore said. “Or am I mistaking you?”

“Incautious?” Argrave put the cup down, enjoying its warmth. “I’m lost.”

“The tea,” she gestured. “Snakes are venomous, you know.”

“Oh,” Argrave nodded, enlightened. He was content to stay silent, let her think him incautious. As something came to mind, he asked curiously, “Do you actually have any poison on hand? Potent poison.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Just wanted to try something,” Argrave shrugged. Anneliese glared at him, and he laughed. “Well, never mind. She won’t let me.”

“Do not act as though this is some overbearing interference,” Anneliese chided him, setting the teapot down. “You speak of poison.”

Argrave sighed. “I’m sorry.” He stayed silent for a bit, then poked her in the ribs. “You can’t deny you’re curious, though. What would happen?”

Anneliese swatted his hand away playfully, and then Elenore cleared her throat to break them up. “You wanted to discuss something with me?”

“Right,” Argrave spun the cup about with his hands, unembarrassed. “Want to make money?”

“Usually,” Elenore nodded. “I think everyone can say that, though.”

“I got some other stuff from the place I got your little gift from,” Argrave said. “I need some discrete appraisers to take a look at them. Order of the Rose items, enchanted? Some items from the Archduke’s Palace, too, in the wetlands. Some of them will be incredibly valuable, both personally and financially speaking. I’d like to entrust them with you. Ideally, they’d be turned around in a week. What I don’t keep, I give to you to sell.”

placed her hands on the table, bronze tapping against

You’ve got… I don’t know. Probably hundreds here,” Argrave waved his hands. “The majority of what I need is combat-oriented. There’ll be

“Commanding troops

Argrave smiled. “Later, certainly.”

look

soon. Beyond that, I was wondering if you had any seeds that grow more mystical plants on reserve for this place. Food for Anneliese’s bird, you see,” Argrave pointed to

else. I trust them, worry not.” Elenore nodded, then pursed her lips. “Speaking of animals…. what do you think of

their heraldry, after all.” Argrave shrugged. “One of their daughters is an exceptional mage, but other than that… not much

doesn’t remind you of anything else,” Elenore continued, leaning in a

no obvious signals of what Elenore might be driving at, implying the question wasn’t an

you’ve got a big dog to hug.” Argrave cast a spell, and his Brumesingers dropped out of his coat, moving to stand up on the table.

hand on the table, observing in silence. “They are

cautiously. After a second, her hand stretched out. One of the foxes practically

you head off before others arrive. I have some things to attend to, and this was promised to be a short meeting,”

he should have been expecting this sort

of stiff business propositions, then,” he rose while quipping, and the Brumesingers scurried back to hide away in his heavy gray duster. Her question of dogs lingered on his mind. He did not feel he could dismiss it so easily…

exited out into the greenhouse. As they walked, Argrave asked, “What

Anneliese looked to Argrave. “I cannot say it is

“I can’t, either.

#####

of the royal family overlooking the buildings like some guardian… or prison warden. This man, whoever he was, had clearly not been around here before. He wandered, following some directions to various locations. It might’ve been difficult to follow, but the spear he bore made him quite identifiable and Ruleo

the city, and as much was evident from when Ruleo saw his face. Though his quarry wore baggy, concealing clothing and blended in with the crowd very well, Ruleo had caught a few glimpses of the man’s face. His skin was darker than those of Vasquer and bore golden tattoos, some marred by scars. Ruleo travelled frequently and had seen his kind before—he was from the Burnt Desert. Not many of them made it past the Lionsun Wall, and even fewer of them were tame enough to survive very long in

Ruleo found it quite unlikely that this man was a Wizard of the Order. Perhaps he was a mage of a high caliber, and Ruleo simply saw an illusion. The notion was far-fetched,

something on someone’s behalf—after all, each time he left an Order-marked shop, he had something new. Ruleo knew of this process. The Wizard of the Order would imprint their magical signature on a

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