Jackal Among Snakes

“It’s a wonder you three fit at all,” Durran noted as they rolled down the road in a tightly packed and humble carriage.

Moonlight made its way through the thin decrepit cloth that covered the top of the carriage, illuminating a group crammed left-to-right on one side: Galamon, Argrave, and Anneliese respectively. Argrave was awkwardly holding his shoulder up so it was not jammed against Galamon’s plate armor, while Anneliese contentedly peered out at the city, comfortably nestled against an accommodating Argrave.

Opposite them was Durran and Elenore. Elenore wore a hood and a completely black mask to disguise herself. The bronze jewelry she wore didn’t need exposure to work—it could see through walls, even. As if taunting them, Durran put one of his legs up. There was ample room on his side. Argrave didn’t care one whit if Durran put his feet anywhere—after his talk with Elenore, she returned with a change of heart. That meritorious feat would not soon be forgotten.

“Better than driving,” said Galamon.

Argrave chucked quietly, briefly reminded of the days back when they travelled and fought with the Lily Lurkers. “That week was something. Remember running from that horde of the bugs?”

“No,” Elenore turned her head. “I don’t remember.”

“What, you don’t want to hear me reminisce?” Argrave’s smile was undampened. “Sourpuss,” he called her.

“I’m—” Elenore began fiercely but paused and took a deep breath. When she spoke next, her tone was businesslike once again. “Since you’ve been proven right already, can you at least tell me what we’ll find down here?”

“Vasquer,” Argrave told her plainly once again, then winced when the carriage bounced and Galamon’s pauldron dug into his shoulder. He was not especially worried about how this meeting might go—Nikoletta could converse with Vasquer, so he had some experience about this matter to rely on. Things might go differently… but the giant snake was not dangerous.

Argrave saw Elenore was annoyed by his simple answer, so he smiled and continued, “Don’t worry, things aren’t dangerous. No traps. I imagine Ruleo has been thorough in his cleansing—he always is. I think some of the older members of the vampiric coven will still be alive deeper in, but they’ll never leave their little sanctuaries. They have defensive measures in an old catacomb—poison. Your men will be stopped there, I guarantee it. I have something in mind for that.”

Elenore gestured towards him. “And what of Ruleo, your history with him?”

Argrave shrugged. “Has to be resolved someday. Put a stop to any conflict.”

“You essentially murdered his father,” Elenore said dryly.

Argrave scratched his chin. He always hated hearing about his old self. “I did,” he agreed.

“You want to stop any conflict? Stop his heart,” Elenore suggested to him.

my way,” Argrave shook his

to having murdered his father. And these rumors of kinslaying are baseless,

lip, realizing he’d been called out. “Induen’s dead because he tried to solve all of his problems by domination or destruction. He was cancer growing on the world.” Argrave turned his head to meet her eyes, but his gaze fell upon only her jet black mask “I think Ruleo can

was only Argrave’s imagination, but he thought she was observing him, judging him… maybe it was her reputation, but Argrave thought all of

up there before we enter,” Elenore concluded. “I think my answers come before this potential resolution. I

#####

they arrived at a place at the foot of the mountain leading up to the Dragon Palace. The mountain wall was steep here, forming a natural barrier from the higher

seemed insistent to keep her partially recovered sense a secret for the time being—Argrave thought it reasonable, being that he had done much the same thing in the past. Keeping her cards close at hand even with her own loyal

Argrave saw it had all manner of high-class drinks, plenty of books for the average high-class aristocrat of the capital to read, and ample lounge space for all to socialize. An enchanted glass display meant to

the head of the stairway down, Galamon scratched at his nose behind the cowl. “Blood’s thick

no need for the commentary,” Argrave told Galamon, hoping that Elenore wouldn’t ask too

Galamon just as the area housing the vampire coven below Nodremaid had: his tongue was looser than normal. Galamon nodded, catching Argrave’s point, and they began their trek

remained arm up

decorated. If the upstairs had been the aristocrat’s gentleman’s club, this place was much the same: a gathering spot for well-to-do vampires with pompous attitudes harboring a desire for close relations with similarly well-to-do vampires. Instead of

say the least of the scene… Argrave was glad he had not arrived at

seemed mentally unstable, having been used as veritable drinking taps

face was blocked by a cowl and mask, he noted her grip on his arm was a bit firmer—a subconscious reaction, perhaps, though of anger or unease he could not say. She would likely try and find a use for the people who were still sane. Elenore might ransom them back

mental note to ask Elenore her thoughts later, they proceeded deeper. Past the entrance, the more business-like operations were revealed—distilleries, alchemy labs, great collections of weaponry, and yet more cages. These rooms were littered with corpses, each and all badly mutilated. Vampires did not die easily, and their corpses

right ahead,” Elenore

his head.

she said. “And

to sit on a crate. Fortunately, this room was only a storage room of some kind. Argrave wondered what this

spymaster Argrave had in his head. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He wanted to say something to help, thinking back to the things he’d endured at the druid’s camp. That was his first

her as she

Elenore broke the silence

that,”

exhausting. I am unused to exercise,” she excused. Argrave thought she said it naturally enough it