Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave looked out across the verdant hills just beyond the hills of the Vysenn. It had been some time since he’d seen this place. He had passed through this area after returning from his ‘diplomatic mission’ to the northern part of Vasquer. Back then, he’d been forced to do battle with the people taking residence there because one of their many tribes had invaded at the behest of Georgina.

Now, Argrave looked down at the brunette woman who’d caused all of that trouble. She was chained to a metal stake just before him. Initially he thought that she had done her duties in service of King Felipe, but in truth, she likely hoped to bring his deceased father to Mozzahr, Castellan of the Empty. After their successful subjugation of the cult, Georgina been captured and put under Elenore’s… ‘care.’ She only dodged execution by virtue of being a protagonist of Heroes of Berendar. More specifically, she dodged execution for a day like this one, where she could be useful.

Now, that ‘protagonist’ wore a drab burlap robe no more glamorous than what a beggar might wear, and judging by her gaunt face seemed to have suffered some malnourishment in the dungeon. She had always been a classic beauty, yet time under duress had muted that a great deal. Her hands were chained behind her back, and her palms had been nailed together to prevent her from casting magic.

Argrave knelt down before her and looked back to Anneliese. She gave a him a nod, indicating she was watching and judging all of Georgina’s answers. Argrave looked back at her. She had been very quiet since he’d arrived.

“My sister tells me that you claim to still have some ties to the people in Vysenn,” Argrave began without cordiality. Her actions had caused much death, and he had no desire to be gentle with her. “But the tribe that you sent out to attack us was killed, almost to the last. And I’m questioning her insight because of that. Now—and answer honestly, or this will be the last time that you can see grass—can you talk to some people within Vysenn? Does your word have enough weight to convince them to migrate?”

Georgina bit at her lips. Judging from the blood and the scarring on them, this wasn’t a new thing. When she first opened her mouth to speak, empty air came out as her voice failed her. She swallowed to get it back and then managed hoarsely, “Maybe.”

Argrave stood and repeated disdainfully, “Maybe. That’s your answer?”

Despite freedom dangling before her eyes and the pain undoubtedly wracking her stabbed hands, Georgina maintained her calm and chose her words carefully. It was both somewhat admirable and worrying, by Argrave’s estimation.

“While it’s true that the tribe I associated strongest with was wiped out, I had others that I maintained ties with. Reserves. I couldn’t move freely through their lands without other ties in other tribes. But it’s been a while since I’ve been here. I can’t say how dependable time will have been on those friendships. So, the best I can say is maybe.”

It was a reasonable thing to say, and something that Argrave had been thinking himself. If the Alchemist inside the Ravenstone around Argrave’s neck wasn’t pressuring him to act quickly, he might’ve never considered Georgina as an option. But the dwarven volunteers would be coming quickly, and they would need to prepare Vysenn for use before then.

“Why did you betray your country for the Ebon Cult?” Argrave asked.

She looked up at him with her soft brown eyes, yet there was still some fire within them. “Because my country was torn apart by a civil war with no good outcome, and judgment was coming.” She stewed on her words, then amended, “At least, I thought there would be no good outcome. Mozzahr and his cult were many things, but fractured they were not. Between destroying all or surrendering my homeland to a despot, I thought the latter was better.”

his arms. “You certainly came up with

staring at iron

was somewhat warranted on a war criminal, but he still didn’t truly have the heart for it. He paced around the grasslands, glancing at Anneliese to see if she had any input. When she offered none, Argrave came to kneel beside Georgina

you perform well in this task,” Argrave told her. “We need the tribes of Vysenn to vacate their holy temple for some months. No interference, no protests—nothing. We intend to leave them be once we’re done with the area. You’re to be part of the

potential of freedom, he could see Georgina’s gaunt face gain some of its vigor back. She nodded. “I won’t let you down, Your Majesty. I have nothing to return to, no cause to fight for—I just want

words directly. He reached into his coat’s pocket and pulled free a slender shard that looked like obsidian. “This is Ebonice. It hampers magic up to B-rank—in other words, it’ll render you magically impotent. I can’t very

this. When she looked up at Argrave, he kept his gaze as cold as the grave. He couldn’t allow to think there

and freed her from the shackles, then grabbed her hands, pulling the iron nails out one by one. When it was done, she stared at

to be safe,”

in heading back to the rest of the party as Veidimen royal guards took up the rest of the process. In the distance, a group of bone-white tribals wore clothing Vasquer and chatted in a small party. They centered around one man in particular—a tribal chieftain once known as the Snowrock. Now, he was just Snowrock, former chieftain and citizen of Vasquer. According to Elenore, most of them had joined the army to provide for their families, and consequently

He was glad they’d integrated with his city, but he hoped their ties to their people remained strong.

S-rank mage of Veiden, sat on a stool reading.

white eyes on Argrave. “Becoming S-rank takes time.

in. “Are you up for

her lessons for some time. She will be the

looked at Anneliese with a pleased smile, and even she herself looked surprised. He gave her a quick hug, a quiet ‘good luck,’ and then left her there. She would be receiving daily lessons from Rowe the Righteous henceforth, pushing her toward S-rank.

#####

what it was to starve. But these days, no food held any taste for him. None of the silks, jewels, or gold in his chamber distracted him. No art pleased him. But then, this was his own cause. He had started

straightened his slouching back and ensured his purple python robe was suitably dignified, prominently displaying the dragons sewn onto the sleeves. Through the translucent sheets on the sliding door, Ji Meng saw a figure kneel just beyond. He could tell it was a eunuch,

entry, bringing tribute from the lands beyond the southern ocean,” Eunuch Hao said

permit it,” the emperor

He didn’t like their kind. ‘Men without ambition,’ eunuchs were called, yet the past year as

then held up a bone-white dagger. “This servant offers a dagger of divine origin, taken from one of the Imperial Navy’s raids