Jackal Among Snakes

Anneliese watched the four survivors run to rejoin the detached group of better-armed men. That the defending force had a mage was an unexpected variable, but she adapted to it as best she could. The man was formidable. He killed the former commander and led to the deaths of dozens of others. Those thoughts gave her a pit in her stomach; Patriarch Dras had given Anneliese command to evaluate her after she spoke up at the gathering, and her first task was not a clean victory.

“We’ve won, Commander Anneliese,” one of the snow elves said formally.

“Have we?” she asked, watching them walk away from the makeshift platform beside the palisades. “The second ship’s fate is not decided, but chasing after them now would probably be fruitless. Losing two ships worth of Veidimen for this village…”

“Our task was to secure a landing for further troops. We have succeeded in that. All that remains is holding this position.”

Anneliese turned to look at his face, gauging his emotion. His breathing was fast, but he did not turn away from her gaze. After further examination without seeing any signs of anger, she judged he was not discontent with the battle.

“Had you not made the call to kill the archers immediately, all would have died on the shores,” the elf continued, oblivious to her scrutiny.

Anneliese turned away, stepping off the platform. “We may not have enough men to hold this place. The humans are barricaded in their homes now, but should things change…”

“If they were resigned to die, they would have joined their soldiers in defense of their village. Let them cower in their homes.” The elf jumped down after her and kicked one of the houses. A panicked yelp came out from within.

“Kick a hornet’s nest, tempt many hornets’ wrath,” she scolded, looking at the man coldly. “We are to preside over these people as subjects, not enslave them. Behave, or you will be punished.”

The elf paused, and Anneliese moved past him. Her gaze moved from place to place, surveying the docks and the damage that had been done with the ship. The longship was floating still, but the front half was suspended above the water, balanced precariously on broken wood. If it were to enter the water, Anneliese was sure it would sink. The other ship was aflame, and could not be salvaged.

She heard a loud split and presumed one section of the docks had broken. Wood splinters striking her cheek made her turn her head. One of the palisades had been knocked over, badly deformed but barely standing. She saw a flash of dissipating purple, but nothing after that.

A few shouts made her walk to the palisade. She peered beyond the broken one. She saw a whir of movement, and only after did she process that a horseman had just rode by. She grabbed one of the stakes and pulled herself up, peeking over the side. To the right, a horseman galloped off towards the humans. Behind…

Behind, there was a mass of shining metal. Anneliese’s heart jumped into her stomach. She assumed they were knights for a moment, the sunlight reflecting off their polished steel as a great crowd of men moved to reclaim the village. But their movements were jerky, and further scrutiny showed that they lacked joints. They looked like metal men.

Another purple projectile shot forward, and Anneliese dropped down. It hit the dirt, creating a great cloud of dust from the sheer force. She briefly saw an arrow before it dissipated into nothingness.

“The human trap…?” she questioned. Most of the Veidimen ran to the palisades, examining what exactly was firing at them. Anneliese sprinted over to the other side, pulling open the gate and looking out at the crowd of humans.

The horseman rode across the plains, slowing the horse before dismounting it beside the distant party. Not many were left living; ten, by her count, the mage, the rider, six knights, and two spearmen. The mage walked ahead of the rest of them. Some of the purple arrows fired, but he dispelled them by casually blocking with the Ebonice axe.

“The two are enemies…?” Anneliese scrutinized further. She watched the human mage step closer, appearing casual. He raised his arms above him, fists clenched, until they formed a V. Then, he closed the V repeatedly, touching his knuckles together. Even this far away, Anneliese could distinguish a vague hint of triumph on his face.

“A Veelstron sign. He brought this horde here to force collaboration?” Anneliese’s mind worked quickly, but those things approaching seemed mindless and hostile. Would the man rather lose the village than the battle?

Nevertheless, she returned the sign. If the man had caused this horde, it stood to reason he would be the key to ending it.

#####

“Wizard Argrave, what are you doing?” Ryles yelled. “What is that horde?”

“This is a sign for parley,” Argrave explained, keeping his head facing forward. “Those things are monsters. The Veidimen have a tradition of collaborating in the face of danger—snowstorms, big beasties, the like.”

“Collaborating?” Ryles demanded, stepping forward. “You brought those things here?! Explain yourself!”

“I did! Well, my friend did, actually, but I ordered him to.” Argrave responded. Galamon stepped behind Argrave, placing himself between Ryles and Argrave.

“What were you thinking?!” Ryles walked forward, but Galamon held him back.

“I was thinking I could find a way to get them to vacate Barden, and perhaps all of Berendar,” Argrave said back.

“So we should set aside arms, work with those we were killing moments ago?” Ryles insisted. “You’re a madman!”

“I showed you the Mark of Monticci. I work for the Duke directly; I am one of his principal agents. This is part of the Duke’s plan.” Argrave turned around, pushing past Galamon. He handed his Ebonice axe to Galamon and grabbed Ryles’ shoulders. “If I do nothing, not just Mateth, but all of House Monticci will fall. This has to be done. I am going to stop this invasion in its tracks.”

He could hear the knight’s breathing from beneath the helmet, rapid and angered. Eventually, the man pulled free from Argrave’s grip and returned to his knights.

“I refuse to come with you. If you are confident going, then go.”

“Then will you help against the metal men?”

“Yes,” Ryles spoke, angry. “For the sake of the Duke’s plan, if nothing else. But I don’t like this.”

Argrave nodded. He tapped Galamon’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The two started walking across the plains. Argrave saw Anneliese waiting; he was quite pleased they did not fight, as she was a helpful person in killing Gerechtigkeit.

The battle was not over, though. With their parley coming so close, Argrave realized the biggest issue, presently, was dispatching the vast horde of tomb guardians come to reclaim the crown.

Depending on how this talk goes, this could be very hard or quite easy.

“You lived,” Galamon commented. “How’s the ego?”

Argrave could not muster a laugh. He felt like vomiting, truthfully. The experience had been intense. “I could say the same for you. Jesus, that was hard-fought. The idiot back there ditched just because we were holding our own. We very nearly lost.”

“I lost my axe.” Galamon held up the one Argrave had handed him. “I was going to make you pay for a new one… but you gave me this.”

“Lucky me.” Argrave looked ahead, where Anneliese half-jogged towards them. He saw her fully for the first time. Her amber eyes were bright, but her incredibly long white hair was stained with dirt and some blood.

Argrave turned back to Galamon, tapping his breastplate with his knuckle. “By the way, keep that crown hidden. We don’t want them to know they’re chasing you.”

Galamon nodded. “If I throw it back to them, will they leave?”

“Not really. They’re hostile to all life at this point.”

“Unfortunate.” Galamon stopped, holding Argrave back as Anneliese drew nearer.

“Hello, Anneliese,” Argrave shouted. That brought her to a stop.

At a fair distance, Anneliese spoke back, “How do you know my name?”

“The same way I know the Veelstron sign. Do you think the Veidimen are the only one capable of spying on the enemy?” Argrave said. “But we’re wasting time talking. I’m Argrave, this is Galamon. You may know him.”

Her face was passive. She was very good at keeping her expressions in check, Argrave knew. Even her amber eyes stayed still. “Then the druids...” she paused. “This horde. You brought it? Can it be stopped?”

Argrave smiled. “Yes, it can. Unfortunately, miss Anneliese hunted the archers, throwing a massive wrench in my strategy and leading to most of the men dying. Consequently, I will need your full cooperation for this to be as easy as I hoped.”

“I cannot apologize. It was my duty.” She shook her head.

“Your duty is ridiculous, then. Your duty is the reason why this world’s cycle might come to an end,” Argrave said, hamming his speech up. “While you wage this senseless war, He Who Would Judge the Gods stirs. That is why I created this situation.”

“You’re feigning anger,” Anneliese returned. Argrave felt exposed and uncomfortable, his acting being so blatantly called out. “He Who Would Judge the Gods? Is this true?” Anneliese looked to Galamon.

Galamon nodded. “He is the mortal agent of Erlebnis, the Hand Reaching from the Abyss. He seeks to stop Gerechtigkeit. During my employment, he has been struggling towards that end.”

Argrave looked to Galamon, surprised that the elf could pull out such a quality story from thin air. Wow. I should have thought of that sooner. I was too busy trying to avoid that name. I should have just embraced it. He saw the elf looked very serious. Or… maybe this isn’t a con. Come to think of it…

Anneliese showed genuine surprise for the first time, and spoke before Argrave’s thoughts could wander. “You speak truly? This is… unimaginable.”

“Erlebnis is one of those gods on trial. I am his defense.” Argrave took a step forward. “As such, in return for our aid, I would expect to be taken to Patriarch Dras. This invasion needs to cease. The living races of the world need to preserve their strength for the ancient calamity. That is my task, my duty.” Argrave held his hand to his chest where the bronze hand mirror lay in his pocket.

Anneliese looked back to the horde of metal men behind. Then, she turned back. “I have no choice in the matter, given what you’ve brought, but I would still agree. If Galamon the Great would speak for you, I believe you are not being dishonest. The ancient calamity takes precedence over all; such is as Veid teaches.”

Anneliese spent a long time thinking, staring at the dirt with a distant stare in her eyes. Argrave waited patiently.

Eventually, she nodded. “We will allow your men in. I will explain to mine what is happening. We will make a contract ironing out the details.”

“Just like that?” Argrave asked incredulously. “Well, I won’t complain.”

“I believe you are not lying. Someone ordinary could not bring these things here. As I said, I have no choice,” she emphasized. “More is lost from indecision.”

“Then I will speak to my own.” Argrave nodded. He turned on his heel and walked back towards the party, back still stinging with pain.

“Hey, listen, Galamon…”

Galamon looked at Argrave as they walked.

“I know I just asked you to lure them over and all, and that was a very difficult task that I’m immeasurably thankful you did…” Argrave paused.

“But?” Galamon prodded, hefting the Ebonice axe in his hand.

“Well, there’s maybe thirty of us total including the Veidimen. You’ve got this nifty little crown on you that attracts their attention, you’re probably the best warrior here, I replaced your Ebonice axe…”

“So?” Galamon ran his finger across the axe’s edge.

“If you could distract them while we prepare… for a little,” Argrave proceeded, making hand gestures. “A long while, maybe. We could probably win. If not… we’ll all be quite dead.”

Galamon shook his head as they walked. “I’m starting to feel less pity for that cut on your back.”

Argrave looked to Galamon. “I hope that means ‘yes, I will do it.’”

Galamon nodded. Argrave let out a sigh of relief. He turned his head to look at Galamon. “But how can you tell I was injured…?”

“Beyond the split clothing? I can smell the blood. It makes me--”

“Forget I asked,” Argrave interrupted. “Let’s just get going.” He hastened his steps. Galamon reached up to his arm, massaging where he'd been stabbed, before moving to catch up with Argrave.