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.

the catching-up on the road. For now, there are a few things to put in order, and then we have to head out.” He looked to Anneliese. “One thing in particular deserves

got you something,” Anneliese

souvenir?” Durran

Argrave beckoned with his hand as

#####

diplomats were dispatched to those beyond the valley requesting surrender from all

gift—the great bear from Quadreign. He’d learned the proper druidic spell to bind its soul to his, and did so eagerly. The thing was giant, fierce, and imbued with power beyond even

a sizeable escort. Including two A-rank

your progress,” Galamon spoke to the guard as they

in their defense. “They really held their own. Held out against hordes of the

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

the plan heading into Vysenn—bluster, make demands, seek retribution. All the tribes would be on high alert, and none would be eager to defy Argrave or the

moment to

events of yesterday still showed on her. Then again, Argrave surely looked much the

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

brain for each, seems pointless,”

do not care to discuss them publicly,” she said. Argrave was

raised a

their magic,” she nodded, pausing to step up 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 strike are

various uses for that running into his head.

her fingers about. “I feel as though my natural magic regeneration has improved. On top of

you want,” he looked at

the landscape ahead. She paused and looked back, where a vast field had been 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 of Gerechtigkeit again, please.

scene, same as her. “Certainly.” In his peripheries, he saw Durran and Elenore chatting. Their conversation

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