Jackal Among Snakes

“We cannot afford to make this a long journey,” Elenore informed Argrave as she slipped on some heavy gloves suited for travel. “Given the recent influx of spellcasters you brought, we have no excuses to languish within this fortress. Any wounds have been healed by magic, any supplies lost have been regained from the larder here, and we sit at the precipice of total consolidation of all the north. The officers and patricians beneath us are eager to move. They salivate like bears who happened across a beehive without bees.”

Argrave, Anneliese, Galamon, and Elenore stood atop the battlements of the fortress. There was a rather peculiar difference in what Argrave saw—he witnessed a lot more of his personal heraldry everywhere, the sun-and-snake. Before, it had been wielded as a force of necessity—the soldiers needed a banner. Now, in but a night, many wore it proudly. Argrave had mixed feelings about this.

“Is two days fine?” Argrave asked her, turning his head.

The princess paused, deliberating. “I… it will be difficult. And you have plenty of matters to settle today.”

“Do you really need me to settle anything? Seem to have done fine, and I liked my absence more than I care to admit,” Argrave looked about.

“Now that people have seen you, I can hardly provide the same excuses I have,” Elenore reminded him. “And… Durran told me he captured someone. Ruleo,” she said gravely. “Durran can tell you details, but… the man seems to have gained an inkling of Gerechtigkeit. Their expedition narrowly averted a disaster with undead created by the Order of the Rose. I think it best you decide his fate.”

Argrave took a deep breath and exhaled. “…let him wait,” he decided. “Keep him prisoner.”

Elenore narrowed her eyes. “So he can break out and cause us problems again? The man is nothing if not resourceful. Procrastinating with prisoners because of the headache-inducing moral quandaries generally leads to poor outcomes. Kill him, spare him… best to decide now.”

Argrave was unpersuaded and opened his mouth to disclose so.

“Your Majesty!” someone called out cheerily, and Argrave turned his head. Durran walked towards them, arms outstretched.

Argrave smirked and stepped to greet him. Galamon and Anneliese came along as well.

“Look at you, gray eyes once again,” the former tribal greeted him. “Anneliese… looking healthy. And Galamon…” he searched for the words.

“Looking mortal,” Argrave finished.

Durran narrowed his eyes, then widened them. “Well, is that right? I was a bit worried about getting these fingers of mine back… but I feel a little better about my chances, now. Show me your teeth, maybe?”

Galamon stared without movement.

road. For now, there are a few things to put in order, and then

you something,” Anneliese smiled at

souvenir?” Durran

to move,” Argrave beckoned with

#####

in the camp were not so many. Argrave got Svetlana and Ganbaatar settled in, coordinated things with the current army and the new arrival from Quadreign, and affirmed a few promises made by Elenore to skittish patricians or their subordinates. He also announced two days of rest for the soldiers, while diplomats were dispatched to those beyond the valley requesting surrender

was giant, fierce, and imbued with power

they set out to Vysenn with a sizeable escort. Including two A-rank mages Anneliese deemed suitably loyal, Argrave was

to the guard as they marched for the distant

by this notion. Durran, riding atop his new bond, spoke in their defense. “They really held their own. Held out against hordes of the undead without losing a man, then still had the mental and physical wherewithal to charge into a fortified structure while towing along a

and then they continued their walk. Elenore rode with Durran, Argrave and Anneliese walked side-by-side, and the knight-commander guarded them diligently with the knights and A-rank spellcasters under his command. He resumed his position as though

heading into Vysenn—bluster, make demands, seek retribution. All the tribes would be

to talk,” Argrave

looked much the

seems insufficient,” she looked back at him, then minded the path ahead once again lest she fall. “I wish I had two mouths… and you

for each, seems

to her face. “It is well enough. Some things… I do not care to discuss them publicly,” she said. Argrave was about to ask what she meant, but she continued quickly, “[Life Cycle] is not as you remember

raised a brow.

a steep incline. “My spells, too, sap magic from the targets they hit. But it is more than that. My wards replenish my magic when struck by spells. In turn, what wards—indeed, any spells—I

uses for that

up, moving her fingers about. “I feel as though my natural magic regeneration has

buffet whenever you want,” he looked at her. “But you don’t sound

covered with basalt particles and traces of battle by magic. Bodies lay crated in it everywhere. It looked like a pocket of hell placed on earth. “I want you to tell me

the scene, same as her. “Certainly.” In his peripheries, he saw Durran

on his bear. “I thought she was a waste of money. I told her as much. But… Melanie’s not so bad,” he