Jackal Among Snakes

A hulking humanoid wearing white armor walked onto a golden platform and moved to the center where a podium stood prominently. Below the platform, countless people sat ready to listen. But perhaps to call them mere people was a disservice—these were gods, one and all. Nevertheless, they stayed silent. They had to—they were in Law’s Court, and the ancient god’s Justiciars kept the peace.

The Justiciar held its two gauntleted hands out, declaring, “The King of Vasquer, Argrave, will give his closing speech, and then we shall take a vote on the proposal.”

The hundreds present came to rapt attention, looking around. Curiosity was etched on the faces of those that actually a face, but it was well obvious that people were eager for this final speaker. They had good reason to be—less than a month ago, Argrave had led forces into battle against the infamous Palace of Heaven. Yet unlike thousands before him that had tried, Argrave’s host didn’t break against its walls—instead, he slew Erlebnis, mortally wounded Sataistador, and gutted the Qircassian Coalition. All of these events took place within hours of each other. The method and circumstances of the day eluded total clarity, but the fact remained that it had happened.

A golden door on the side of Law’s Court opened wide and in walked Argrave, King of Vasquer. For a mortal man, he was tall, standing at seven feet. He steely gray eyes and wavy black hair which had been trimmed recently until it was just above his ears. He wore a large black coat, and just beneath it, a golden breastplate bearing his personal sigil: a sunburst, with its rays as snakes. The leather armor elsewhere was of the finest quality and adorned with precious metals bearing enchantments both ancient and modern. It was an attire fit enough for a king, but the gods cared more about the man wearing the clothes.

Argrave walked onto the golden platform, regarding the hundreds of gods without so much as a blinking eye. “We’ve been holding this trial for days, now. Any information that was going to come out has come out. I can’t bring you something that would turn the world on its head in the final hours. What I can do, however, is give you a reminder. And something poignant to think about, perhaps, as we decide Kirel Qircassia’s fate.”

Argrave let his words hang, then put one hand to his chest. “The other senior partners you’ve heard from earlier established that I inherited Erlebnis’ knowledge. I’ve demonstrated the breadth of that knowledge to the senior partners of the union, each of which supported my claim. With that knowledge, I laid bare the misdeeds of Kirel Qircassia. We’ve established the path of reckless betrayal he left in his early years. We outlined countless who were betrayed by the Qircassian Coalition. And we outlined the malignant designs he had on countless present here, today, in Law’s Court. Half of you here today, Qircassia planned to kill.” He tapped the podium thrice to emphasize that point.

“Kirel Qircassia must die. He is someone who cannot be trusted to persist in this world. He will conspire with anyone—Sataistador, Erlebnis, for the barest hope of gaining a mite of power. He has no loyalty, no honor, and I wouldn’t dare greet him with any in return. Some here, today, have argued that any agreement made with him could be officiated in the White Planes, just as this Blackgard Union was formed. I argue that he is not worthy of having such power to begin with.” Argrave leaned in. “He should be broken, stripped down, and his body used for parts to make something greater.”

Argrave leaned back. “But as I think I just established, I’m a touch biased.” Those few that had senses of humors left in their divine bodies laughed. “You junior partners of the Union will have your say. As will the senior partners—my kingdom included. With Law as our witness, we’ll come to an answer regarding his fate. Then, whatever occurs, we’ll abide by the vote. But keep in mind some things as you make your choice. If you were up there as he is, trapped… what decision might Qircassia make?” He let them run through that hypothetical. “Today you deal with me. I’ve tried my damnedest to be open-handed, so much so that Law bestowed upon me his blessing. But if you let Kirel Qircassia live… tomorrow, you might be dealing with him. Him, and whatever allies he’s managed to scrape up. He’s not such a saint as little old me. And he has no problem killing anyone who slights him.”

Argrave walked away from the podium without further ceremony, leaving the new junior partners of the Blackgard Union to begin the voting process.

“We shall begin the vote,” declared Law’s Justiciar as Argrave made for the door. “The matter at hand… the fate of Kirel Qircassia.”

#####

Argrave returned to where his sister, Elenore, waited for him within Law’s court. Black of hair and gray of eye, she had the classic Vasquer look excluding exceptional height. She was the shortest of the family, though taller than most women. One such exception to most women waited right alongside her: Anneliese, Argrave’s wife and his kingdom’s queen. She was an elven woman hailing from the icy land of Veiden, and like many Veidimen, stood tale and pale with beautiful white hair that stretched past her knees. Both of them wore the colors of Vasquer—black and gold—to signify their affiliation here in this trial.

“Did you make any mistakes?” Elenore asked.

Argrave sighed. “Most people ask, ‘how did it go?’ It’s a more polite way of asking the same question. Come on, try again.”

As Elenore’s face scrunched in annoyance, Anneliese studied Argrave with her amber eyes. “It went well, Elenore. He’s pleased.”

“Of course it went well.” Argrave held out his arms, striking a slight pose. “It’s just words, right? I know words, and I know how to put them together in a way that pleases people. I didn’t exactly get a standing ovation, but it was a tough crowd in a tougher venue. I think it’s illegal to cheer here, anyway.”

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Elenore rubbed her forehead. “Well, when you’ve put in as much legwork as I have making sure this vote swung the right way, you’re much more concerned about someone else’s mistakes than anything else. Your head is still a little scrambled. I don’t want to have to apologize to yet another parliament member because you forgot their name.”

Argrave walked toward the two of them, and they joined him in walking to their destination. “You wanted the vote, remember. You said it would look good to all the newcomers.”

“It would. It does.” Elenore nodded. “More than that, it gave me ample opportunities to get some connections to these new junior partners. They’re much more… pliable, shall we say, than the other gods. A lot easier to bribe, to blackmail.”

“And what about the connections we need to fix Raven?” Argrave looked at her.

Anneliese answered for Elenore, explaining, “We have the names we need. All we need is a distraction. Ideally, if this crusade against Kirel Qircassia goes through, we’ll have the opportunity to contact the person that can help him without drawing any attention.”

Raven. The Alchemist. The Smiling Raven. If people knew what he was, this entire alliance that they’d built could crumble. The Smiling Raven had destroyed an entire continent, and vanquished countless gods. Argrave had promised to fix the Alchemist after he’d helped him inherit Erlebnis’ knowledge, but it was proving a difficult task to find the help he needed without drawing undue attention.

Argrave lowered his voice and asked, “Can this person be trusted to see the Smiling Raven and not flip out, try to kill him, then spread the word that we’re all psychopaths?”

“Maybe not. But you killed the god of knowledge and the god of war naked, bare-handed, and within three minutes of each other, so you can probably manage the odd lesser god or two,” Elenore responded drolly, eyes facing forward.

“So, this is quite the risk we’re taking.” Argrave shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe we keep looking.”

“I’ve looked in every single continent, Argrave. There aren’t many people that handle minds and souls well. There are even fewer capable of repairing a mind as vast and complex as the Alchemist’s. There’s basically only the Alchemist himself, and this man.” Elenore looked at him. “To be blunt, if you want to fix the Alchemist, we have to take the risk. Take a huge risk. Maybe a risk not worth taking.”

“The man saved my life.” Argrave tapped his forehead. “And gave me the gift of knowledge, besides. Without his help, you’d be standing over me while I drooled in a sickbed, ranting deliriously about being the god of knowledge and taking my revenge on that pesky Argrave. A little gratitude is in order.”

“I know I can’t dissuade you from taking the risk,” Elenore sighed as they turned a corner. “But I can remind you it’s there. That counts for something, at least.”

“What’s this god’s name?” Argrave asked her. “I’ll look him up in the wiki.”

“Lindon.”

Argrave thought on it. “Not ringing any bells...”

Elenore snorted. “Might be some of those bells aren’t working anymore.”

“…but I’ll catalogue it for later,” Argrave finished, then stop her just before their door. “Now, the vote shouldn’t be long. Let’s see what Rook’s got thus far, even still.”

Argrave put his full weight into pushing aside both of the gargantuan golden doors to another of the chambers in Law’s Court. There, a black-clothed figure wearing a hood that concealed any identifying figures looked at them. Rook, god of deception and subterfuge, awaited them.

“Here comes the boy prodigy.” Rook had been toying with a dagger, and he slipped it away into his clothes so expertly Argrave couldn’t track it. “How did your second trial in Law’s Court go?”

“Not finished yet,” Argrave greeted, shutting the door behind him. “And neither were really trials.”

“I have to say—you’ve handled this all very shrewdly.” Rook leaned up against a stiff-looking golden chair. “From what I could gather, you’ve got the vote of every senior partner. But then, we were already committed to killing the roosting pigeon anyhow.”

“Traugott.” Elenore stepped in front of Argrave. “What do you have for us?”

Rook held up his hands. “It’s been two weeks since you asked. A god needs time, even with one as slick a kick as me.”

Argrave joined his sister in confronting Rook. “And you didn’t ask at all when you took it upon yourself to steal the kill.”

Rook pointed. “Hey now. When people think, ‘who killed Erlebnis?’ They sure as shit don’t think me of me. They think of you, tall man, not me. I haven’t heard any thanks for that, by the way.”

“Thanks? That could be considered yet another disservice. Another target, painted on Argrave’s back,” Anneliese argued. “You owe us, and—"

“And I’ll pay,” Rook interrupted. “But for now, I assure you, I’m doing my best. I’m not stringing you along because it’s expedient—I’m doing my best to be expeditious. But tracking one man around the whole world? A man that might be in the Shadowlands, where no gods walk? Even with my newfound power, and all the newfound friends a deceptive fellow like myself could ever ask for, it’s quite the task.”

Argrave wanted to demand more of Rook, but the man’s excuses didn’t sound implausible. Rook wasn’t alone in searching for Traugott. Elenore had been expending significant resources and clout to the same end, with similar results. Subterfuge was Rook’s specialty, but if even he couldn’t dredge up any information, it was sounding more and more like a hopeless task. They might need another route.

“What does Erlebnis say about the man?” Rook questioned.

“Too little. Way too little,” Argrave lamented. “Just some stuff about—”

The door opened behind them, and one of Law’s Justiciars entered. “A vote has been reached regarding the Blackgard Union’s response to Kirel Qircassia.”