Jackal Among Snakes

“I lost well over one thousand good people, Your Majesty,” Count Castille said to Argrave. “Good families relocated, leaving entire fields untended. When my father purchased the land well over eighty years ago, he bought it with the expectation that these serf families came with the land. For all intents and purposes… and meaning no disrespect, of course… recruiting people for Blackgard is tantamount to theft, Your Majesty. In the short term, we may have to abandon entire fields. There will be less taxes, which means less funds to utilize for other projects—road repairs, fortifications, or even the crown taxes. I cannot maintain my territory if there are no people within it. That, on top of the crippling debt to those patricians in Relize, with the land as collateral…!”

Argrave stared at the stocky man, nodding along as if he sympathized. His mind worked to translate it in real time: Your Majesty, please! It was really fun sewing, but this reaping business is no fun! I treated people poorly, but they weren’t supposed to do something about it! Only poor people face consequences for their actions!

“I have spoken to the other nobles in Atrus,” Castille continued. “And frankly… they’re in agreement. These immigration acts that the crown has been putting out have the potential to upend entire households. The knights under us are expecting wages that we have difficulty paying, and already many houses have abandoned keeping spellcasters in their service altogether. Our vassals were granted land made useless by people migrating away, and so they clamor to be made whole.”

Argrave’s translation worked again, rephrasing the count’s words. We are incapable of adapting to difficult circumstances, Your Majesty. This systemic exploitation business was booming, but times are tougher now. We need a little bit of economic stimulation in the form of live people, boxed and shipped back to untilled fields.

As Castille continued to explain why times were tough, it was quite tempting to leave them to their fate. Being born where he was, and having lived the life he lived, Argrave could muster no sympathy for a noble ‘down on his luck.’ To trade serfs along with land, to feel entitled for the profits of another’s labor… he would feel nothing if they did lose everything.

But then, the reason why these people came here and made these brazen requests was precisely because they had no sympathy for those who left their territory. And it was because of this their people emigrated in the first place. In a way, his lack of sympathy would end in the same result. Just as their serfs departed to Blackgard, so too would these nobles depart from Argrave’s camp.

And why? Because they were selfish? Perhaps that was the answer. But life can only exist by extinguishing other life. Selfishness was a practiced instinct drilled into all animals so thoroughly as to be inextricable.

Argrave focused on Castille calmly. The man seemed to be winding down his speech somewhat, and so Argrave raised his hand and said, “I understand, count. I think you’ve raised some very valid points. I think I’ll have an answer for you shortly, but I’d also like to speak to those representing the Magisters before I make a concrete decision.”

“Well… then, thank you, Your Majesty, Your Highness, for your time. But… your thoughts…”

“I think we’ll all walk away satisfied,” Argrave assured him with a plastic smile.

At that, the count dipped his head and left the room. Galamon followed behind, heading to retrieve the next participant in this meeting. Orion shut the door behind him, staring at Argrave and Anneliese on their couch.

“I dislike this,” the prince stated plainly.

Argrave leaned back into his couch, feeling rather philosophical. “That man was born into his life the same as the serfs were. He was told that he should do what he’s doing by his father, by all of his family, and by all those who raised him. He can barely conceive of a different way to live, of a different system of life.” He looked at Orion. “I’m not saying he’s a victim. I’m saying he’s typical. Average. People do things they know are wrong constantly. Monkey see, monkey do; it’s a tale as old as time.”

Anneliese watched Argrave in curiosity, almost trying to peer into his head. Then the door opened once more, and a gray-robed woman with an owl sewn on his robe walked in. She wore a cowl over her head, casting shadows over most of her face. Galamon stepped in after her, closing the door.

a seat, Magister

me, Your Majesty,” Tilina said,

began at once. “I’m rather curious to

only her chin as she said, “Certainly. I know you have other concerns, so I shall spare you the preamble and get to

would provide valuable things from Order of the Rose ruins, or other such sources of higher magic, in return for

so… liberal, with the knowledge. We thought there would be more efforts to conceal magic from the general

argument that had some merit. “What would you suggest be

and who should not. We request Your

the law, or we’ll go on strike,

business. Jast’s entire economy would crumble,”

case, then it must be so. We cannot

feel about this?” Argrave

are acting as a union of individuals, not as officials of

fill the void left behind. Elenore would probably see it as an opportunity to expand her business massively if indeed the Magisters did exit the market… but both quality and quantity of magic goods in circulation would plummet. Argrave

“I’d like a moment to confer. I’d like you

said as she rose. “Thank you once again, Your

walked away, and only when the door

about S-rank spells, lately,” Argrave began, voice distant. “Mozzahr is an S-rank spellcaster. That’s not even half of what gives him his strength, but it is something. Seems like a confrontation with him is inevitable. It would

the room

be a good thing to get, if I even can… I think I need to have a conversation with Castro about that. Such a shame that an A-rank blood magic ascension is so rare, elsewise I might have someone else do it for me. You know, make them do the hard part so that I can just copy their work… always been my

continued to stare at him. She sunk back into the couch, catching onto the fact he

conversations that we just had? Well, I don’t think you should be. And I don’t know

as king, all my friends around me, and some revolutionary threatened to upend that by freeing serfs… well, I can understand why they would. I like to think I wouldn’t do what they’re

quiet agreement, but Orion looked

dies of starvation.” Argrave shook his head. “Says a lot about