Jackal Among Snakes

When Grimalt’s new liege returned, he thought that the king looked rather trepidatious. He always had a keen intuition about how others felt, and the times he was wrong was more so misinterpretation than mistake. Nevertheless, Argrave had a strong composure in wake of whatever crisis he faced, and he gave orders to the three Veidimen officers—namely, himself, Bastal, and Rasten.

King Argrave’s order was simple: fortify this frontier fortress better against the Bloodwoods. It stressed the importance of haste as though some enemy might bear down on them at any moment. Bastal and Rasten thought that this was a test, but Grimalt wasn’t so sure. They dug a large moat in front of the fortress, using magic to aid in this task. When that was done, they left it dry—apparently whatever enemies might come didn’t use siege weapons or tunnels, so filling it with water was unimportant. The king himself joined in this task. Though none commented on it, Grimalt could tell that endeared him in the eyes of his fellows somewhat.

But then, all the Veidimen were already quite endeared to the king considering he took one of their own to wife. The queen was named Anneliese. They shared a distinct eye color, so Grimalt felt a certain kinship with her. It made him question what tribe she had come from. He did not recognize her name, but then supposed she had adopted a name from this land when she became queen.

And in time, they might all take names from this land. Those here had been chosen by the patriarch and Galamon based on several criteria. They were all veterans of many battles, they were all faithful of Veid, and they all had not yet started a family. In coming here, they brought with them hopes—hopes that they might make this fertile continent their home, hopes that they might spread the glory of Veid. There could be no higher honor than fighting against He Who Would Judge the Gods, standing in defense of the Mother of Veidimen. And from all they had heard, there was no one closer to the van than King Argrave. Whether they ended this war in a fire of glory or settled into a life of prosperity after victory, none could deny they lived.

That night, however, the king called the three of them to his tent. The king’s closest council was there, plus the new faces—Nikoletta, Vasilisa, and Mina.

“I’m going to say some stuff. I don’t want it spreading around, so make sure your lips stayed sealed, all of you,” the king began, leaning over the wood stove keeping this place warm amidst the cold air of the night. With the roots having overrun the place, there was no lack of wood to burn.

Grimalt and his two compatriots nodded in a soldierly fashion. Anneliese and Orion remained calm, but the other three did not rest so easy.

“Your men have been scrambling about like ants all day, Your Majesty,” Mina said politely, though Grimalt thought he noticed a subtle undercurrent of unease beneath the woman’s well-developed façade. Human or elf, Grimalt was finding their emotions played the same. Mina continued, asking, “What are you preparing for? What exactly is this?”

“You keep talking, it’s gonna be hard for me to get to that.” Argrave looked at her pointedly. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “Talk to me casually, here, all of you. Your Majesty takes so long to say that it’s a waste of time. But to the point: our plans have changed, somewhat. They might change more depending on what Elenore gets back to me with. Anneliese is going to get her reply tomorrow.

the Bloodwoods, and they’re building things in the branches of the redwood trees. On top of that… their wire traps are just about everywhere. Third fact: the roots of the Bloodwoods are expanding unnaturally. The forest floor of the Bloodwoods has been completely overrun with them. A lot of centaurs are dead or trapped and dying.” He entwined his hands together. “Which kills part of my plan…” he said

listened intently, though some parts he didn’t quite

speculation…” Argrave rubbed his palms together, as though he didn’t like saying it. “I think a god belonging to another realm has made a breach between its realm and this realm deep in the Bloodwoods. And I think it’s trying to kill the entire forest, so that everything within is forced to migrate into Vasquer.”

providing the information,” she defended

in, placing his hands upon his knees.

at him with steady

liege was eager to hear what he had to say. Emboldened by this, he asked quickly, “We are ignorant of this land. What would a mass migration

some diplomacy. There’s the centaurs, too. I hoped to make fast friends with them, but the ones not dead or dying have all retreated to the Mother’s Steppe. They’ll be difficult to reach there, but also safe there… still, they need to eat meat. Carnivores like them can’t stay in the Mother’s Steppe forever without

forest they should know about.” Nikoletta, the king’s cousin, looked at Grimalt. He spotted some lingering loathing as she looked at the Veidimen, but he couldn’t discern

elves isn’t the concerning bit. There are giants—brutes well over thirty feet tall. Pachamamas—giant herbivores that live in the branches. Those are the primary two that can eat the fruit and leaves of the redwoods in that forest, and so form the start of the food train. Carnivores are far more

the tip of which are covered in spikes that the centaurs use as arrowheads.” Argrave rose to his feet, pacing about the room. “Then there’s the only other plant life in the forest—the Yateveo,

voice. What he relayed wasn’t rumor—it was as though he’d seen it himself, Grimalt judged. When his comrades looked

of that comes out of the forests?” Prince Orion

Bloodwoods. You look on the forest floor, you don’t see much shrubbery, grass, or even mushrooms—it just doesn’t grow. The trees there monopolize all resources and nutrients. Without them, the entire ecosystem collapses. If the trees fail, there’s going to be mass displacement in weeks.” Argrave turned around and stopped pacing. “Not to mention that lying at the heart of

wooden stove. “What motives do the gods have? Why do they

grow their power inorganically by subsuming spirits—fragments of gods.” Argrave put his hand on his waist and looked up to the hole allowing smoke to pass upwards from the stove. “Depending on how things go… the ‘winners’ decide how the world is going to shape up until the next run of the cycle. It’s like Black Friday, but trampling on other people is how you get your discount, not an unfortunate side-effect.” The king smiled, but then