Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave went to deal with his agenda, but as he spoke to the architects of Relize to end their strike, and as he addressed the concerns of Magisters questioning the direction of the expeditionary parties sent out across Vasquer, his mind was elsewhere. His mind was on helmet Melanie had brought back. More specifically, he dreaded the Ebon Cult it heralded.

There was no mistaking the distinctive masked helmet of the Ebon Cult. The ones given to scouts were undetailed and light, as the masks marked their rank in the hierarchy and helped establish a sense of identity for their wearers. That it had been found meant one thing alone: the cult’s scouts had ventured where Melanie had reached. That was the bare minimum it meant—in reality, their members might have discovered a path to the surface long ago. And without Gerechtigkeit’s meddling to hinder their progress significantly… they might have a huge head start on their invasion of Vasquer.

If this had been Gerry’s plan—to have these two potent nations clash just as all the gods descended, weakening both in a major way—then it was working out.

Argrave sat on his bed with Anneliese hovering near him. They had been staying in the parliamentary complex, alongside other parliamentary seats that decided to stay in Blackgard itself. She had a writing implement and paper both prepared, but she did not write. He stared at the helmet in his hands, thinking hard.

“You feel dread.” Anneliese knelt down before him. “Do we cancel our plans to go to Veiden?”

He looked at her, using her question to put his thoughts back on rails. Apparently, half the reason Galamon was convinced to return to Veiden was because there was something related to the Ebon Cult. They might not even be the same organization, but at the same time…

“Before I became king… I had intended to head down into the abandoned dwarven cities.” Argrave set the helmet on his bed. “There, I would learn and make use of shamanic magic, upgrade my arsenal, defeat Mozzahr and his cult alone while the kingdom focused on preparing for the gods unmolested. But events transpired. I dealt with events in the Bloodwoods, not down there.” He fixed her with a gaze as steady as stone. “Now, we need Galamon’s expertise in war more than anything. I can’t fight this as I’d hoped to.”

“That is a sensible point.” Anneliese’s eyes darted back and forth as she was lost in thought. “We waste time. We may be late, already. Let us go visit the first training session of the army.”

Argrave nodded, rising to his feet. As he made for the door back to the outside, he paused, then turned and grabbed the helmet still on their bed.

#####

They travelled beneath the tunnel spanning the mountains north of Vasquer. It was a busy road, with refugees still coming in en masse, but they still made it through in decent time. Here, the great fortress erected by the Relizean architects stood strong and tall. Argrave, Anneliese, and Orion scaled the massive fortification, heading for the walls. The stairs felt as though they took an hour to climb, and once they arrived the cold winds of high altitudes battered their face.

Rows and rows of Veidimen-style tents filled the vast plains between Blackgard and Relize. But they were not built by Veidimen—they were built by the men of Argrave’s newly formed standing army. Technically, this force had been in existence for two months. Those two months, however, had been filled by back-breaking training to bring all recruits to a physical standard.

with heavy packs, paved the roads between Relize, Blackgard, and Dirracha, collected firewood enough to burn for weeks, and made those wondrously comfortable tents… every single day, for two months. Healing magic made pain nothing more than an inconvenience, and

to begin proper military training. Argrave remembered the number well, because Elenore had complained countless times about paying this many salaries. Many of these people were working to support their families living within Blackgard, as

Quadreign’s flame. Parliamentary seats belonging to the Order of the Gray Owl were incentivized to teach prospective talents—if they did so, they’d receive benefits from the expeditionary parties scouring ruins across the kingdom. It was causing something of a boom in the world of magic. Argrave heard nothing but positive news from Diana,

whether by magic or might, men trained to defend their home and kill their enemies down below. They practiced unit tactics, weapons, discipline… but more than discipline, they had fervor. They prepared for Gerechtigkeit, just as Argrave did. And with the Ebon Cult coming… he would be

you think they joined the army because they were ignorant of what war was?” Anneliese said suddenly, and Argrave turned

Argrave raised a

“After all this time, I do not think I need to see your face to figure

I’m not that special,” Argrave stepped closer to the edge of the fortress, bracing against the parapets. “Thought I was a hotshot, putting my life on the line to

stepped closer. “Feeling connected with

a good leader, Your Majesty. Rest assured you are worth fighting

die for me.” Argrave grabbed the parapet, leaning down as they trained. “If

are not drafted soldiers, Argrave.” Anneliese crossed her arms and told him firmly, “Just as you want to shoulder their responsibility, so do they

away. “I’ll never be at ease with it.” He walked back towards the stairs. “But instead of moping, I’m going to do something about it before we leave for Veiden.” He paused just before descending. “Let’s visit Vasquer. I want to ask for her help with a few things. If we’re lucky, we’ll run into that other

#####

surrounded the burgeoning city of Blackgard. This made a great natural shield against all comers, funneling would-be-invaders into the two entrances—three, if the river was to be counted. There was little life up high in the mountains. At best, there were birds, goats… but little grew on the slick black rock shielding

perfect housing ground for

well. Elenore travelled them somewhat frequently, asking things of their distant ancestor on a regular basis. Orion would have gone more frequently, but he took his

it to something of a peak. At once, Argrave spotted the golden scales of Argrave’s ancestral serpent shining brightly further back. Vasquer crawled forward, winding around various elevated portions of the mountain with ease. Much of her mobility had been restored in her time free of the underground cavern, and in not a few seconds she was close enough to

said quietly beneath his

between the two of them. The all too familiar maternal touch of this ancient Gilderwatcher permeated his mind. It was like a calming tide of exuberance, concern, and satisfaction that wrapped around his mind and made him feel at ease. He felt like a long-lost son who’d finally found

ancestor seemed pleased merely to contact him again. She urged him to ask Orion to come, next, that she might greet him as well. He pulled his hand away