Jackal Among Snakes

“Your Majesty…” Grimalt began, prompting Argrave to look into his amber eyes. “Why exactly am I here?”

The Veidimen officer was clearly uncomfortable in this luxury carriage—not that Argrave felt much different. But it seemed to bother him he was with Elenore, Argrave, Anneliese, Galamon, Melanie, and Orion—he felt his status was not up to snuff, evidently.

Argrave looked out the window of the carriage. “Did no one tell you, or does the marching army outside not give it away? There are a few other stops we’ll be making first, but I promised the Stonepetal Sentinels that I would send aid to secure the Low Way of the Rose, permanently. Galamon thought that some of the men should taste real battle in a challenging place,” Argrave pointed to his knight-commander, who nodded in confirmation. “The Low Way will be a vital line of trade between Vasquer and the Burnt Desert. You should be the one to lead the army into their first battle. This is a royal tour of sorts, to announce to the realm that I’m still present.”

“I understand that part, Your Majesty. But perhaps I ought to be… outside, marching with the men.” Grimalt gestured out the window. “The other officers are.”

Argrave scrutinized the warrior. Grimalt kept his head shaved, but Argrave could faintly see white hair emerging.

He relaxed his back against the upholstery and said, “We had a conversation a long while ago in the Bloodwoods. As I recall, you said that you were good at discerning people’s emotions.”

Grimalt nodded understandingly, but Anneliese came to closer attention.

“I thought Your Majesty may have forgotten about that,” Grimalt admitted. “But perhaps you ought to have. I am uncertain about putting it to greater use than I already am. It helps me lead your men well, but beyond that… what more can I offer?”

“Is it a family thing? Your empathy, I mean,” Argrave continued, and Anneliese turned her head to him, a fed-up look about her face.

“…I cannot say that I’ve asked. But all of my family members have been noted commanders, for what it’s worth.” Grimalt raised his white brows. “Might I inquire what Your Majesty would ask of me?”

“Argrave is merely attempting to learn one of his officers more personally,” Anneliese cut in. “But there are a few other matters to talk about, right?” She looked at Argrave sternly. “You may go, Grimalt.”

Grimalt did not need to be asked again. He left quickly, dismounting from the moving carriage with splendid grace. Once he was gone, Anneliese pulled shut the door.

“What?” Argrave asked her as she stared at him. “Clearly you get what I was driving at.”

Melanie, perhaps the only outsider in the carriage, glanced between the two of them in confusion as they spoke.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but that is unnecessary.” Anneliese shook her head. “Yes, we are probably related somehow. I don’t care to expose that fact. It brings us no benefit.”

family can teach you. Maybe someone can explain what exactly happened with Onychinusa—you know, that whole impact you

nothing, then there is nothing to learn,” she dismissed calmly. She wasn’t angry, but her mind seemed made up. “I do not care to connect with my paternal side. No one that did what my father did

shrugged. “I should have asked you first.

did it.” Anneliese, ever the patient one, picked up a book and split it open. “But turmoil is the last thing we need. Perhaps it might not be so after all is done… but for now, let it

“You never knew your dad, Your Highness? I thought he was the king… or

was adopted. In adulthood, as a matter

Elenore questioned, gray

do, too,” Argrave grabbed a book

wasn’t prying, I just… I can sympathize, I guess,” Melanie said quietly, brushing back some of her red hair. She seemed embarrassed to be vulnerable, and so quickly interjected, “Seems to have worked out for the both of us, seeing as we’re in a carriage like this with kings and princesses, eh? And speaking

eyes caught on its white cover—this was one of the books that Garm had written before he gave his soul to Durran. His work carried on even now. He pushed the bittersweet thought away and continued, “You’ll

of

yeah? Castro is quite the looker, and I know you’re a

#####

blood echoes that Argrave had projected. “Congratulations, Argrave. You invented your own A-rank

me. That word is reserved for better people,” Argrave scratched the back of his neck, calling the echo back within. “Had plenty

vast room of the Tower Master. “Plenty of help. But there aren’t that many A-rank spellcasters, not really. Do you realize how much of an anomaly you are? You’re what, twenty-one, and

of that,” Argrave continued dismissing.

insufferably confident when first we met… now you can’t accept praise,” Castro marveled, shaking his head. Reminded of something, he turned. “Anyway, while I have you here…” the tower master reached for something

weapon, and then handed it off to

for Dimocles,” Argrave nodded. “What—you

looked at the document, then at

worried Argrave. They had ruined the man’s collection to thwart both him and Erlebnis, and neurotic as the man was, such a slight would not be forgotten. All of the guards at the entrances to Blackgard had been instructed to look for people with the blue-green eyes marking him as a polymorph, but no word had come. Dimocles was a

Ingo spoke of him,” Castro continued. “He spoke of Dimocles’ guillotine, and a shadow behind man

the words, but Anneliese quickly deduced, “Perhaps… Erlebnis, and that betrayal. Your apprentice sees

how much longer he can last. His visions grow clearer, yet his seizures rise in tandem.

set down the paper speaking of Dimocles on a nearby desk. An idea came to him that turned his stomach. “I can help you

“Risk?” Castro repeated.

luck. Luck, in that it might not even be possible.” Argrave looked out to the balcony. “If we kill the god that gave Ingo the blessing he bears, it’ll dissipate. But… I can’t honestly promise he can

digested that.