Jackal Among Snakes

Magister Vasilisa watched the man beside her pour a drink into her cup. Cups, rather—the bartender filled multiple tankards, each and all just beside Vasilisa’s wrist. Her eyes jumped between the brown alcohol and their party of three, sitting adjacent from her and waiting expectantly.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Vasilisa questioned.

“Alcohol does nothing for me,” Argrave said vaguely while the two beside him shook their head.

The drink finished pouring, and she handed a set of gold coins to the man. He tried to refuse her, but she insisted until he took it.

“Just, uh… feels a bit…” her blue eyes jumped between them, then she shrugged and tipped the tankard back. “Whatever. You don’t want it, that’s your business. But what’s my business…”

She snapped. Though no matrix formed, she’d cast a spell, and a ward enclosed them. Casting spells without matrixes—that was one facet of Vasilisa’s A-rank advancement. None of the other customers in this tavern in Quadreign seemed to react to the spell, perhaps well-used to Vasilisa being here.

“What’s my business is what in the hell you’re speaking of when you talk about taking down Magister Ivan,” she said, sipping at her drink slightly. “You might not get things, being from where you are… but me, my sister’s territory? They’ve become nothing before what Margrave Ivan owns, Silvaden. We’re dust before a castle. Maybe they call you ‘Smiler’ for your endless optimism, but I see things clear, and they’re clearly impossibly bleak.”

Argrave mulled over her words for a bit while the Magister let the silence hang, drinking deeply from her cup. She’d very nearly finished the first from what Argrave saw.

“Do you know how I discovered you were in Relize?” Argrave questioned. “I was speaking to a northerner… something mundane, I think it was about furs that were commonly traded to Relize… we wanted to avoid some competition, you see.” Argrave leaned in, entwining his hands. “This woman, she was a little old. Still robust and firm, though, like a great deal of the people we saw on the way here. And she started talking about the good days beneath the reign of the queens of Quadreign.”

Vasilisa stared at Argrave as he spoke, so wrapped up in his fabricated story she couldn’t think of anything to interject.

“She spoke of your traditions here,” Argrave continued, locking eyes with her. “How your women ruled, because only those that create life can justly preside over it. She told me how the flames of Quadreign once flowed through this city, giving warmth even in the winters of this northern valley. She spoke of the queen’s mageguard—chosen from birth among loyal vassals, tempered by the flame, and holding two ideals at heart.” Argrave raised his hand, counting as he listed them. “Protect the queen… and protect her people. And this woman spoke of how they died to the last against the forces of Vasquer.”

Vasilisa blinked quickly then looked off to the side, obviously hiding tears. She grabbed a new flagon and drank it all, then set it down quietly. “What does it matter?” she questioned, her voice hoarse. “My mother was the last queen. My sister has a brain tumor, and though it can be cured, all those capable of such a feat would wring us of our last coins. We have an obligation to the people—if my sister is cured, we couldn’t afford to feed them. All of the queen’s guard died, as you said. Those you would have us fight against possess all of what we once owned.”

Quiet set in as the Magister opened her heart up. Anneliese leaned in, almost a mirror of Vasilisa’s emotions, and said, “The people live, and the people remember. And even if you disbelieve that claim… no one succeeds if they content themselves with defeat.”

“You seek the flame both for the people of this city and your sister,” Argrave said. “I think that’s clear.”

Magister looked back.

that honor their obligations are few and far between,”

hair behind

turned back, continuing, “…but honor can

rather die than do something against my principles. If that’s what you’re suggesting…”

not,” Argrave leaned back in the chair. “Fact of the matter is, though… people like Magister Ivan will piss on your honor. They’ll exploit your integrity, and the only

and she took a slow drink of alcohol once

Anneliese quickly soothed. “This is merely to

to Vasquer, after he stole the Flame of the Tenebrous Star from your house… what do people view him as? Not a traitor, not a thief, not a callous usurper… but rather, they view him as Margrave Ivan. They

again… but her eyes

you content yourself with

“And what can we do? Four of us? You, maybe A-rank. Her, verging on A-rank, and him…” she threw up her hands in Galamon’s direction. “Ivan

have genuine affection for Margrave Ivan. His power comes from the throne of Vasquer, not

her finger around the rim of her third cup. “Argrave and his coalition of merchant princes playing

man was able to get swords in people’s hands. So far as I know, he was not even in the line of succession for the throne. And you? House Quadreign, reputed rulers, heralds of the good days of Quadreign? That cause has much more legitimacy than

she acknowledged that his point had some merit. “I wouldn’t…

but I’ve learned as much from each one.” He clasped his

and his two companions in turn. Then, she took another drink. “My mother taught me to

laid out plainly, I have a vested interest in getting the Flame of the Tenebrous Star returned to you quickly. I can’t really afford to wait a year. And… your sister… can she? Well, never mind,” he shook his head. “I’ve made my pitch. The decision is

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grouped up and herded by our armies. Upon this scourge being driven into core territories, much infighting broke out until they largely consolidated. In light of this, Count Pomten surrendered his fortress to our army and allowed us to suppress what remained in tandem with his forces, lest his land be turned into scorched earth. In other words, the soldiers are off to a stellar start,” Elenore summarized, wearing a black dress and a golden blindfold over her missing eyes. “We have a base of operations that serves as a foothold into

say that all the patricians

presently armored in his wyvern scale. “Any matters they have, Princess Elenore can handle,”

Leopold shook his head. “Where is he? Why

he went into