Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave set down his backpack and sat in the guest bed that had been offered to them. Dust jumped up off it, but Argrave could hardly be bothered by dust anymore considering all that he’d endured. Anneliese sneezed—he thought it was a cute sound, and Argrave found himself staring at her.

She wiped away her nose, oblivious to him as she examined the room. “Unused for a time… yet it seems sturdy enough that I have no worries. The people here hate me. Me and Galamon, I suppose. They only allowed us to stay because of our generous payment… and our weapons.”

Hearing that made Argrave frown. “There’s perhaps twenty people in this town, and they go to a big city maybe once a year,” he reasoned. “I suppose elves are as mythical and as feared as dragons to them. Nothing will bother us, here. We can rest and recuperate. Enjoy an idyllic life… for a couple weeks, maybe.”

They were in the largest house in this small town. The only resident was an old widow, whose children had all left the village or built houses of their own elsewhere. Durran and Galamon had their own room just nearby. The widow was the only one who didn’t seem to be highly suspicious of his elven companions.

Argrave’s Brumesingers started to sneeze, too, and he laughed.

“Perhaps we should dust up,” Anneliese suggested.

“Absolutely,” Argrave rose to his feet.

Once Argrave began cleaning again, he remembered how much he enjoyed doing it. He was very methodical in his approach, and before long the place was noticeably brighter, freed from a blanket of gray lying atop it. Once that was done, the two of them sat there on the bed in silence.

“Only crickets, endless plains of winter grass in most directions… no noises, no distractions,” Anneliese mused. “I like places like this.”

Argrave thought about it, soaking in the quietude. “It does have its charms,” he conceded. “But I still like big cities the best. Constant noise, always drowning things out, distracting.” He paused, taking in the sounds… or lack thereof, he supposed. In time, his gaze found Anneliese again. “Of course, if you’re with me… that’s a constant distraction. Can’t stop my eyes from wandering to you.”

Anneliese scoffed half-heartedly and looked at him with affection. No—there was something a little bit more intense that just affection between them. He took off one glove and put a hand to her cheek. It wandered across her cheeks, her lips, and then down her neck until her hand rose up to meet his. She held it close to her chest.

“It’s nice and quiet,” Argrave said. “And we have plenty of time.” His fingers fiddled with a strap on her leather armor.

“Argrave…” she said quietly, yet there was some nervous excitement in her voice. Her amber eyes stayed fixed on his hand.

“I know we agreed it was a bad idea… but sometimes I’d like to have a bad idea. Or two,” he said suggestively.

Her eyes finally lifted from his hand to his eyes. “You are unwell.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Argrave stared back at her.

Anneliese held his gaze for a long time, as though deliberating on something. With a swallow, she said quietly, “I think… it should be fine, now. It is a safe time.”

Argrave raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Anneliese nodded, leaning closer to him. She took her hand off of his and moved it towards him.

“Music to my ears,” he whispered, before leaning in to meet her. It was a gentle and soft kiss. They slowly fell back into the bed, growing more emboldened in every passing second. Their hands wandered naturally, completely in-tune with each other now as they always were.

Indeed, it was a quiet night. Galamon took Durran out of the house, ensuring they remained on the porch with the old widow. Argrave’s Brumesingers curled in the corner of the room, the Starsparrow using them like a nest. And like that, it became a night without distractions.

#####

The morning came as it always did. There were no windows in the room they’d been given, but Argrave felt things were a little brighter nonetheless. His Brumesingers curled around the Starsparrow, shielding it from the elements. Their fur was a dark gray, now—the creatures had eaten many souls without an excessive expenditure. The bird nested in their fur as though it was natural.

Argrave stared down at Anneliese, half-covered in their blanket as she leaned up against him. The blanket could not fully cover either of them and the bed was a bit too small for Argrave… yet despite these annoyances he felt well-rested. Maybe she had already been awake, or maybe they were simply in-tune, but Anneliese lifted her head up to look at him. Despite the exhaustion in their eyes, it seemed like neither could stop themselves from smiling, both grinning like fools.

“Good morning,” Anneliese greeted him.

“That’s never been truer,” Argrave agreed.

She chuckled and buried her face on his chest. Argrave stroked her long white hair, enjoying her warmth in the early morning chill. He was tired. It was a good exhaustion, though.

“We cannot make a habit of this,” she said, voice muffled. “As much as I want to.”

Argrave looked up at the ceiling, sighing with a knowing disappointment. “Are you sure about that? I’m good with my tongue, you know.”

“Of course I know,” Anneliese nodded, ignorant of his implication. “But your words will not persuade me, no matter how good you are at talking. A child would be… not now,” she sighed.

Argrave stared at the ceiling blankly. “Part of me is glad you misunderstood that.”

Anneliese raised her head, brows furrowed in confusion. As she thought more, her face grew tomato red, and Argrave started to laugh. It echoed off the walls of the wooden cabin they stayed in, and Anneliese poked him in the ribs, demanding he be quiet.

#####

Nikoletta of Monticci stopped before a door. She was garbed in the enchanted leather armor heirloom of her house, a blue swordfish emblazoned on the breastplate. Her obsidian black hair was neatly bound in a ponytail, and her bright pink eyes betrayed some nervousness. Her hand hovered near the ring to pull the door open, and she took a deep breath to compose herself before grabbing and pulling it open resolutely.

A few people she recognized turned to look at Nikoletta as she entered into the door. Two people bore red hair—one, the armored Margrave Reinhardt, and two, his son, Elias of Parbon. Parbon’s court mage, Helmuth, stood nearby, alongside several other vassals to the Margrave.

Nikoletta entered confidently, and her escort of knights entered just behind her. She strode up right before the Margrave.

“Margrave Reinhardt,” she greeted.

“Young lady Nikoletta,” Reinhardt nodded curtly, his ruby eyes steady.

She looked around, then said, “My father has decided to remain at Mateth and resume rule.”

Margrave Reinhardt nodded. “Enrico wants you to gain experience in diplomacy. A good man, your father.”

Though Reinhardt was fully correct in saying so, Nikoletta did not betray that. She looked at Elias… yet did not see what she was expecting to see.

One of his eyes had gone completely brown. It was glossy, resembling wax. A streak of the waxpox rose up from his neck, onto his cheek, and into his eye. The eye did not seem capable of moving any longer. His one good red eye caught her reaction and looked sad.

“Elias… what…” Nikoletta questioned guiltily.

“I caught the waxpox,” Elias informed her curtly. “Lost my sight in one eye.”

Reinhardt turned away, clearly frustrated by the whole situation. Helmuth, Parbon’s court mage, with whirling violet eyes that seemed unnatural, contributed, “The disease has stopped its spread. There was something mystical about it—something unnatural. Yet now it is gone, in Elias and in everyone. The disease does not spread to others anymore.”

Reinhardt turned quickly and said in frustration, “But too late to spare my son.”

“Leave it, father,” he directed. Reinhardt looked surprised at his son’s tone, but he said nothing more on the matter.

Nikoletta’s gaze jumped between the two of them, looking where to proceed.

Before she could say anything, the Margrave said, “Argrave… left… my castle, heading to the northwest of Vasquer to end the plague.” Reinhardt put his hands on his hips. “Given what Helmuth described… he may have succeeded.” He looked to Nikoletta. “Your father agreed Argrave must be secured before winter’s end. But what of the other matter, this engagement?”

Nikoletta winced as she recalled confessing to her father after his revelation from the Margrave. She dared not confess the reason, but she had informed him that she’d done so to avoid getting married. And now…

“My father decided… to proceed with the engagement, at least until the war’s conclusion,” Nikoletta said, crossing her arms. “It will be surface-level alone and broken once the continent is at peace. Gaining support now is the most important.”

“Can you persuade Argrave of that?” the Margrave questioned. “He said he would never compromise for this Anneliese.”

Nikoletta considered that. She had known right away that Argrave was attracted to the snow elf from the distant continent of Veiden, yet she never imagined things would progress to this point. The words ‘never compromise’ made her feel strangely lesser and diminished her confidence.

Yet Nikoletta’s temperance won through, and she said, “I think I am best suited for persuading him of everyone.”

The Margrave nodded. “You have a history of protecting him, and you are cousins. He may trust you. I have a history of…” he shook his head, leaving the next part unspoken. “Elias, Nikoletta. You two will find Argrave, and you will tell him we wish to have him as our claimant against Vasquer. You will bring him back to the Margravate that we might discuss this in further detail.”

“I still have unfinished business in Elbraille,” Elias protested.

“I will handle the Duchess and her corruption. Now that I know of it, I will see it done, son,” Reinhardt informed him simply. Elias looked discontented, but he did quiet down. “Will you visit your fiancée?” he asked.

Elias looked away at once. “Not until the metalsmiths forge the mask I asked for. I would not have her see me like this.”

“She’s to see it eventually, son,” Reinhardt said frustratedly. “She’s to be your wife.”

Elias looked away, saying nothing. Both looked too pained to press the matter further.

“All we know is that Argrave is in the northwest, though only by what he said to me…” Reinhardt said, moving past the matter. “I sent Stain ahead with some trusted men to find out more details. He’s proven rather adept at that. Elias has Stain’s location—once you have his information, you will be on your own.”

“If we can’t find Argrave?” Nikoletta asked. “He’s proven time and time again that if he doesn’t wish to be found, he won’t be.”

The Margrave deliberated, stepping away in his heavy metal armor. “Just find him,” he said, betraying that he had no plan beyond that. “Bring him back. With him… we can end things. If we have the savior that stopped the plague on our side, Vasquer’s support will implode… doubly so if it’s revealed Felipe spread the plague personally.”

Nikoletta nodded without much confidence. With that, the Margrave left abruptly, armor clanging heavily as he moved. He left, leaving her alone with Elias and both of their knights.

“This might not end perfectly,” Nikoletta said quietly.

“Or at all,” Elias agreed. “Nonetheless… our fathers wish us to do this. Let’s proceed carefully.”