Jackal Among Snakes

Felipe stood at the mouth of his Dragon Palace, looking over his city. A multitude of golden-armored knights gathered around him, like gilding to his own black armor. His long, black hair flowed down his back like a cloak, a patch of gray atop his head. His beard showed yet more gray hair… yet his stony eyes were alert, sharp, unburdened by the ravages of age.

Myriad voices bubbled around him. People pushed past his knights, offering letters or speaking reports… some diplomat had been exposed for accepting bribes, some noble secretly harbored rebellious ambitions, the replacement steward was working for House Parbon… and back within the palace, Felipe heard distant screaming.

“Jezuit,” Felipe said loudly.

“Your Majesty,” a knight at his side answered, bowing his head in deference. His golden helm bore a dragon crest just above its visor—a recognizable symbol of authority that marked him as the knight commander.

Felipe reached to his side and drew his blade. “Choose your best men—fifty, as many spellcasters as you can. Form around me. Push aside any who approach; diplomats, nobility, it doesn’t matter. The rest… send them to quell the chaos.”

“Of course, your majesty,” the knight responded at once. “Yet if I may offer counsel, we must screen—”

“The name of the Bat inspires near as much fear as mine. All of this… death throes. It is a sign Levin has not disappointed. I have to be there, personally—I cannot leave this task to another to muck it up. And Jezuit…” Felipe turned his gaze down, finally, looking upon the knight-commander. “Do not forget I served as knight-commander beneath my father before you took the position. My orders are absolute, and not to be questioned unduly.”

The knight-commander pounded his fist against his breastplate and lowered his head. “Your Majesty. At once,” he said, voice betraying no offense.

Jezuit went off, barking orders. The royal knights, though tightly packed, rearranged themselves as efficiently as a well-oiled machine. Only one remained near Felipe’s side—a small man, bearing a helmet that was far too large for his head. He held it up to the king.

Felipe took the helm and put it over his head. His helm was made in the image of a cobra. Though its base was a functional great helm, black metal concealed the hard steel beneath it, and a cobra’s face seemed to supplant his own. Its mouth seemed designed in imitation of a demon’s, though, for it possessed far too many teeth and an aspect of terror beyond that of a mere snake.

Before a minute could pass, a guard of the best of the royal knights surrounded Felipe, and Jezuit bowed to inform the king. Just then… a great fire roared to life in the furthest point of the city walls. Felipe adjusted his helmet to block its light.

“The Bat squirms beneath my boot. March!” Felipe shouted, voice echoing.

#####

“If I’d known we’d use these, I might’ve watered them less,” commented Argrave, watching as people quickly ran, carrying drenched bundles of plants. These had been used not an hour ago to suppress their party from advancing into the catacombs. Time had dried them somewhat, fortunately.

“It’ll require more fire, but it’s completely manageable,” Elenore said calmly. “Barring Vasquer, these herbs are the best thing we’ve got to get out of this. I know the royal guard’s enchantments well—I had them studied before. Their enchantments certainly don’t account for poison like this. But then again… neither can my men resist them. It’s a double-edged sword. All we have is the benefit of holding that sword.”

Argrave nodded, feeling nervous. He wasn’t sure if everybody could make it out of this situation unharmed… and he wasn’t simply speaking of Elenore’s men. Galamon took on much risk.

square,” Anneliese

square…” Elenore grasped her chin. “Five more minutes, perhaps.” Elenore turned her head to Argrave, expression dire. “Your pets. Your companion. There’ll be no issue placing

all but black by this point, matching well with his own appearance. “And that was knowing exactly what I fought against. Our foes will fight warriors of mist pointlessly, expending themselves. These guys have gorged on souls for months—time to put all that

escape, not hold them off. Holding

in a small group,” Durran said quietly. He knelt on the floor, glaive leaning against his shoulder as he stared at the distant set of

about using my

back. “You’re no good to anyone

no wyvern on hand, in case you forget, and there isn’t one to steal. Elenore’s men are our only avenue of escape. Keep your ears open and your mouth shut,” Argrave commanded him

could tell he felt a bit embarrassed. Then, his eyes jumped off

a pile of what appeared to be gold in his hands. “Got them. This

and feathers from Vasquer’s body. “You’re certain seeing these will make Felipe go along

her arms and nodded. “I’ve spent the majority of my adult life doing my business right under the king’s nose. I understand all it takes to make him step forward or make him stay quiet. He values Vasquer. He thinks everyone is incompetent besides himself. The moment he’s certain Vasquer is present… he’ll come

a nod of respect. “Good enough for me. We’ll take our spot,” he

on traitor-stopping duty?” Durran turned

might make their

anyone’s thoughts, let me tell you.

deep breath and exhaled. “We’ll

#####

your Majesty,”

Felipe had instructed. His gaze briefly lingered on the smoke rising from the Dragon Palace atop

once a bar of some sort, a gentleman’s club of good enough repute to enter even the king’s ear, the place had been trashed. In the back, royal

“They hauled away these,” Jezuit clapped his hands,

off one of his gauntlets, running his hand across the scale. His eyes paused when he noticed something—black blood on the bottom of the scale. He caught a

“They have Vasquer, I have no

hauled these scales to a room. It seemed to have some sort of escape in

guard in confusion but did not contest the point. Felipe’s

this room. Seal it off, proceed down this escape to catch any who might’ve gone. Jezuit—you and I shall lead an assault with the rest

of one knight. This entire situation reeks of entrapment. We should proceed careful—”

Magisters of the Order personally. I’ve fought against the gods of the wetlands. I marched at the front of our vanguard into the northern kingdoms, bringing each and all under heel. I am to be feared, not afraid.