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.”

you do,” Argrave pointed out. “Maybe there’s something their family can teach you. Maybe someone can explain what exactly happened with

to connect with my

should have asked you first. Was probably

patient one, picked up a book and split it open. “But turmoil is

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

her. “I was adopted. In adulthood,

so liberal with that information?” Elenore questioned, gray eyes looking between

do, too,” Argrave grabbed a book of his own. “She

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 of that… that elf had a point that

at her. His eyes caught on its white cover—this was one of the books that Garm had written

the weight of her new

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

#####

the blood echoes that Argrave had projected. “Congratulations, Argrave. You invented

word is reserved for better people,” Argrave scratched the back of his neck, calling

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 you’re an A-rank

that,” Argrave continued

were so 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

the paper, making sure it wasn’t a deadly assassination weapon, and then handed it off to

for Dimocles,” Argrave nodded. “What—you

then at Castro. “Please. Anything would help,” she

the entrances to Blackgard had been instructed to look for

guillotine, and a shadow behind man bigger than the one

and that betrayal. Your apprentice sees what currently is, not what will be, correct? When was this—when we were

clarity to his eyes. “I’m not sure how much longer he can last. His visions grow clearer, yet his seizures rise in tandem. I will not extort you—the idea of it repulses me

speaking of Dimocles on a nearby desk. An idea came to him that turned his stomach. “I can help you now. But how much risk can

“Risk?” Castro repeated.

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

quietly digested that.