JACKAL AMONG SNAKES-Novel

Upon the reveal of the dreadful Alchemist, Alexius, the Head of Senate, leaned in and placed his hands on his knees. “Argrave. Were my envoys unclear that only two people would be allowed into our nation?”

Even as the others panicked and made for exits, that Alexius could remain so ridiculously calm amidst it all was enough to impress Argrave a great deal. He had known this man was made of stern stuff, but the Alchemist was a terror among terrors whose strength was unknown to the dwarves. Perhaps that calm came from ignorance.

“By bringing another, you’ve demonstrated that you’ve acted in bad faith from the beginning,” Alexius continued. “Please explain.”

“This grotesque mutant thing is not another person. I shudder that you give him the label.” Argrave pointed at him with his thumb, keeping his gaze on Alexius. “He’s my summoned pet. I received no such mention of disallowing pets.” His Brumesingers scampered out of his clothes. “I brought a lot of pets, you see. You might think of me as something of an animal lover.”

The Alchemist turned his head to look at Argrave as he beamed at the senate. Some of them, now that they knew there was no danger, walked out from behind their chairs or picked up wreaths that had fallen from their head during the panic. Melanie, meanwhile, was acutely aware of the dozens of weapons pointing at them from the spectator balconies.

“A pet.” Alexius took a deep breath and sighed. “Regardless of what you call it, it’s the intent behind bringing it here. An intent that doesn’t speak well of you.”

“Would you claim to know my intent before I’ve spoken of it, Alexius?” Argrave spread his arms out.

Alexius raised one hand and pointed firmly. “Willful deception betrays much about your intent.”

Argrave smiled. “A senator who refuses to lie is like a miner who refuses to dig; they won't get very far before they're replaced. Supposing I have willfully deceived you, which I'm not conceding, then half of those present must be enemies of the state.”

His joke did not receive the laughter that he’d been hoping for, but considering Alexius didn’t have an immediate response he thought the intent of the humor was displayed well enough.

"I assure you, I only brought my revolting, gut-wrenchingly hideous pet to elucidate earlier claims. Dwarven neutrality will not end because of Vasquer's intervention, nor the actions of any gods. Instead, circumstance will compel you to act. And with this abominable creature, I will prove that."

Said abominable creature continued to give Argrave the evil eye, and Melanie looked both impressed and severely worried by his continued provocations. Alexius kneaded his forehead and leaned back in his chair as the last of the others took their seats once again. Though panic had met the Alchemist's arrival, it unfolded into a gripping curiosity when Argrave explained the purpose. But most importantly… it would be compelling enough to convince some. And that was the beauty of democracy. He was not dealing with Alexius alone: he was dealing with the whole of the senate, who answered first to the people.

As people took their seat, levers turned, and lights indicated that people wished to speak. Alexius, even as the Head of Senate, could not lead a one-sided interrogation. He took note of this, dark eyes scanning the room. “Now that the deviation from normal standards has subsided somewhat, we will resume the normal order. Those with the highest authority shall ask initial questions, and then we shall proceed onward.”

When Argrave turned about the room, studying everyone, he realized every single person that could speak at present wished to. Things were losing tension as the guards on the gallery finally withdrew their magma weapons. A good thing, too—magma weaponry could only persist down here in the planet’s core, but it was among the most potent things in Heroes of Berendar. Using it was the cheesy way to fight Mozzahr. Argrave did not care to be cheesed in kind.

The first dwarven speaker asked, “What can this creature you’ve brought prove to us?”

“He can prove that you have a reason to be proud, for one.” Argrave talked loudly and domineeringly, projecting his voice as much as he could. “You harnessed the power contained within the depths of the earth to create a thriving civilization. With Alexander’s genius, you made this dreamlike city a reality.” Argrave raised one hand up, clenching it into a fist. “But what the wise man does in the beginning, the fool does in the end. Someone else would use the terrible power of the magma encasing Mundi to hurt not only you, but the whole of the world. I believe you know of whom I speak.”

“You?” The speaker followed up.

The question was meant to enflame, but Argrave didn’t miss a beat before he responded. “Would that I could. To tamper with magma is on the level of the divine, and I lack the power of gods. Instead, I must defend my people from them. In particular, the most threatening god of all, whose endless desire for devastation motivated Alexander’s quest to descend deeper into the earth. I speak of Gerechtigkeit. He would upend the whole of your civilization to end all others, bathing the world in flames. Gerechtigkeit intends to use the magma comprising your moat to his own destructive ends.”

As Argrave slipped into his familiar deceitful ways, he thought that perhaps Alexius might’ve been right about him. Gerechtigkeit was not truly harnessing the magma of the planet’s core to end all life. If he possessed that sort of power, things would’ve ended a long time ago. The only bit of effect on that level he had was at Vysenn, where Gerechtigkeit made that volcano erupt.

The next speaker inquired, “How would your…” the dwarf looked at the Alchemist, choosing his phrasing carefully. At the last moment, he elected to change the phrase entirely. “How would you prove any of what you say is true?”

“That’s very simple. We have a coalescence of Gerechtigkeit’s energy. Show them.” He snapped at the Alchemist. The unamused master spellcaster reached inside himself and produced the vial of black malevolence. Even here, it seemed to radiate with darkness, spewing out tendrils that faded away as though carried by wind. “We would use this to identify Gerechtigkeit’s point of attack. Once found, we would… handle things, neutralizing the agitation he’s caused. This would require access to all of Mundi, however, for our search. And naturally, it comes with the assurance of our aid in fixing your current problems.”

“Current problems?”

“Ah, I’d forgotten we hadn’t yet mentioned that. I know that one section of your magma moat is failing.” Argrave looked up to the dome above them, pointing upward. “The machinery that operates it can no longer effectively pump the molten rock away, and so there is an entire section of the world that is simply cut off to you. For that, you need to relearn the secrets of dwarven metal. I can guarantee it to you… and sooner than this Dario that Trifon spoke of.” Argrave gestured toward the envoy, who was cradling his broken nose after his tumble off to the side.

A quietude took over the hall until the only noise was the scraping of boots on the gallery above. Then, the questions resumed—all varied and nuanced, but the heart of them were clarifications of the answers he’d already given. He elaborated as best he could. At once, a clear rift took shape in the room. There were those that tried to malign his intent, and by extension Vasquer’s intent, as unnecessary influence. Opposing them, there were those that viewed this idea of Gerechtigkeit commandeering magma as the threat it truthfully wasn’t, and attempted to malign their opposition. In the end, there was no common consensus, but Argrave’s intent was solidified.

Now that Argrave's intent had been declared, he felt himself fade into the background as debate about their people’s course of action erupted. He was taken off the central platform to a witness’ bench, where Trifon already sat. Argrave recalled the Alchemist to ease the atmosphere. He'd thought himself somewhat pretentious yet eloquent. In the debate that followed, he felt he was far less of both than he thought.

These dwarves were a little more than mere politicians. Artists, inventors, engineers—they were true philosophers, weaving a narrative and verbal tapestry in the same breath. They related tales about the dangers of allowing those on the surface to persist underground, and their opponents combatted these words with poetic logic about their failing systems, the importance of change, and Mundi’s founder Alexander’s great emphasis of adaptability. It was all done with dignity and decorum. There was no yelling, nor attacks at the opponent’s character rather than their arguments. But this was civil debate—true dwarven debates could get rather nasty, Argrave knew.

And yet… it was all dreadfully slow. Hours passed before every senator in the hall had said their piece, and even that was insufficient to fully cover the issue. Trifon leaned over to Argrave.

“They are attempting to filibuster this, Your Majesty,” he whispered quietly. When Argrave looked down at him, confused, the dwarf continued, “I see concise speakers taking minutes to make a point they should in seconds. They seek to talk about the issue until it dies, and then resume on the morrow. This would enable them an entire day to prepare for things, and prepare a robust counter against your proposal.”

Argrave nodded slowly, concerned. “What can I do about this?”

“Nothing,” Trifon said begrudgingly. “What is important now is securing your mobility. You need to have the right to speak to the senators. As a witness you cannot speak unless called, but I can petition the Head of Senate to give you some temporary status allowing you to speak to senators. He can grant it without senate approval, most importantly. I’ll do it at once, if you can please… be a little forgetful?” He pleaded, referring to accepting payment from Dario.

Argrave didn’t need long to answer, but he took some time to let the gravity sink into Trifon. He nodded. “Alright. Do what you can.”

Trifon changed, then, from a wounded animal to a watching wolf. He watched and waited for his opportunity to pounce. When the debate lulled, he rose from his seat and stepped up to the central platform.

“Senate, as envoy of a recent mission, I would invoke my right to speak.” Trifon flourished and bowed. “Argrave is a most calm and just ruler. It is my opinion that, even if his request is not answered, he might speak and refer to all those here today. There is much wisdom that he can impart.”

Alexius looked at Trifon. “You seek to name him Advocate? This is for notable leaders within the community that have something to contribute to the senate. I don’t see what a king might add.”

“Perhaps he might illuminate some of the trappings of his society, that our own might avoid it.” Trifon’s voice was smooth, but even Argrave found the words lacking.

“Once again—he is the head of his society. If he truly had anything to add, he would institute more voice for his people,” Alexius refuted calmly once again. Argrave sensed no ill intent from him, simply cold reason.

One dwarf flipped a lever loudly, and Alexius looked over. “Therapont. You have something to say?”

Therapont—an old looking dwarf who was one of the few that broke the norm of curly hair and clean shaves, rose. He stroked his long beard as he said, “The king has implemented aspects of dwarven society into his own. My son told me of his parliament, and the increasing delegation of power from the king to its people.” He looked at Argrave firmly. “I disagree with these notions he brings us. But there is no reason he cannot be named Advocate. He has given some voice to his people.”

Alexius looked at Argrave in a different light, then. He gave a slow nod. “Very well. Argrave is named Advocate. He is granted permission to stay for some days, furthermore. Therapont—you will give him lodging, while the senate will provide constant guards to monitor him. Now, back to the matter at hand…”

Trifon walked back to Argrave, pleased as punch. The debate continued in an orderly fashion, though everything was as Trifon suspected—it dragged on and on and on, until the meeting ended. Even despite all of that, Argrave was never once bored. After retrieving his boots and leaving, the senator who’d spoken earlier waited for him at the exit.

“You’re Anestis’ father?” Argrave asked, holding his hand out to shake.

“Regrettably at times, yet proudly at others.” He looked at Argrave’s hand, then shook it with a politeness that betrayed some amount of dislike. “I’m pleased you managed to earn a foothold, naming yourself Advocate. But know that I am completely opposed to allowing you to roam Mundi. I intend to debate you on as much in the next meeting to come.”

“Debate me?” Argrave tilted his head. “Are you serious?”

“There are holes in what you say,” Therapont’s gaze was sharp. “I will make them wider until all see through them. Now, come. Let’s get you settled in.”