Jackal Among Snakes

Multiple servants pushed aside two gargantuan marble doors that marked the entrance to a vast estate. The place did not have a grandiose garden or a walkway that housed statues as Argrave had seen elsewhere. Indeed, it was quite compact, fitting in alongside several other markedly unique yet similarly ostentatious mansions. Innumerable patricians made their home along the riverside, and the Dandalan family was no different. To make one’s home beside the river was a matter of prestige.

Argrave glanced around the inside of the mansion. The marble on the floor had patterns marked—golden flourishes so well-integrated as to appear part of the marble. From the main hall, one could see the other three stories of the mansion, each and all overlooking the main portion just opposite the doorway. Several members of the Dandalan family looked down on Argrave, Anneliese, Elenore and Melanie. If this visit did not go well, their presence would surely be announced to the rest of the city.

Argrave grabbed the wide-brimmed tellerbarret with two fingers, adjusting it. Though he did not like the clothes that had puffed up sleeves and legs, he had to admit the hat was quite nice. He felt like some sort of desperado, dressed in all black and bearing a golden plume on his hat. A desperado or a pimp, he supposed.

The dress for women was not as bizarre as that for men. Melanie came as a guard, so she wore the same things as ever. Elenore looked nice, bearing a modest green dress that had gold markings at points. Relize was still the colder north, so dresses were not so exposing. And Anneliese… Argrave could hardly take his eyes off her. With her long white hair bound in a half-crown braid, her amber eyes shining even more brilliantly than the jewels of the same color lining her white dress… in Argrave’s eyes, she looked like someone right out of myth.

Their party of four stepped within the mansion, and the servants once again strained to shut the heavy marble doors behind them. Argrave felt quite exposed without Galamon and Durran with him for this, but bringing so many people might antagonize the Leopold in some way. It didn’t matter too much, though—Anneliese had scouted the mansion thoroughly, and no one waited in ambush.

A prominent Dandalan family member, Ansgar, waited in the central hall before them. He stepped forward towards their group, and gave a polite, almost ritualistic bow.

“Welcome, princess Elenore. And—"

“If we go by status, you should greet the two beside me first,” Elenore interrupted.

Argrave said nothing—this had been premeditated. If they were to present Argrave as the claimant to the throne, it had to be clear that Argrave was not a subordinate, and rather it was Elenore that was hierarchically beneath him.

Ansgar looked up and ran a hand across his long beard. “Then I offer my greeting to Argrave and his fiancée, and to the princess Elenore.”

Argrave nodded. “Well met.”

“I would take you to meet the patriarch now,” Ansgar said formally.

“Lead,” Argrave nodded.

The Dandalan bowed once again, turned on his heel, and walked into the heart of the mansion. Elenore held Argrave’s arm with her own, still insisting she never expose the fact she was no longer hindered by her loss of sight. Ansgar, fortunately, was quite accommodating of this.

They headed down a long, straight hallway, right towards the opposite side of the mansion. Many of the Dandalan family had gathered here—Argrave could spot some similar traits in their face. The Dandalans had thick brows, did not seem to grow bald no matter the age, and were generally of average height. They all seemed to have angry faces, man or woman.

Argrave arrived at a familiar double door of dark wood. Leopold Dandalan was beyond. Ansgar stepped up, and gingerly knocked thrice.

“Enter,” a gruff, powerful voice answered back.

Ansgar grabbed both handles of the door and pushed it open. At once, light from an open window peeked past the doorway. Leopold Dandalan stood behind his desk. Instead of a back wall, two large glass doors exited out onto a balcony that overlooked the river. The Dandalan patriarch did not seem to be much more than a vaguely angry-looking old man, his back slightly hunched from age. He had a well-kept white beard and kept his vaguely long hair slicked back with something that made it shine.

“Welcome,” Leopold spread his hands wide. “Princes, princesses, come to the estate of a glorified bureaucrat with too many children. Come in, come in. Ooh—careful now, watch the head,” he commentated as Argrave entered.

Melanie waited outside, stopped by Ansgar. The three of them entered.

“Look at this. All I get around here is angry faces, yet now two bright young ladies grace my halls like balm to a burn.” He ran a hand across his beard, looking to Anneliese. “Well, perhaps you are young—this one is elven, and one can never be too sure. Ansgar! Shut the door,” he commanded.

“Call if I am needed, father,” Ansgar said, shutting the door.

“They all say that,” Leopold shook his head as he sat. “If I do call, I suspect all of them will rush from the second and third stories, stepping over each other and causing more problems.” The man’s brown eyes jumped between the three of them. “Well, sit. No time for ceremony, politeness. One of you has broken their mandate to stay locked up in a little greenhouse, and the other is wanted all throughout the north for killing his brother. While I’m not sure how you got in touch with me so quickly, we’re well beyond the point of pretending we don’t know what’s happening.”

“I appreciate your time, Leopold,” Argrave said, the first to sit.

“Do you?” he scratched his cheek, staring down Argrave.

“Wouldn’t have asked to meet otherwise,” Argrave continued.

“Suppose that’s true,” he nodded, eyes unflinching. “You are a big one. And a High Wizard of the Order already. Would that half my children had your magical talent. And your fiancée… some more big people on the way, it would seem. Big people with strangely colored eyes. A good thing, you two breeding. There are enough dull-witted children in the world. You will be having children, I hope.”

Argrave smiled, reminded of uncomfortable meetings with his grandparents. “Maybe in the future, certainly.”

“Hmm,” Leopold grunted. “So, what do you want? Hope you don’t need ships. If you came all this way to ask me for passage on a ship, or to borrow my vessels for something… I’d have to question if you have water in your head.”

Elenore placed her hands on her lap. “You read our message. What did you gain from it?”

“I gained that you want to stir up this little peaceful trading city into a machine of war,” Leopold tapped the table. “Machine for your war against Vasquer, that is. You would think royally educated people, bastards or not, would know that war is bad for business.”

“Hardly a peaceful little trading city,” Argrave shook his head. “With the amount of guards you patricians alone have, you can rival any army.”

Leopold leaned forth, pulling free a toothpick and putting it in his mouth. “Eh… you’re right. Stupid Pedreddin twats tried to raid one of my ships, yet again…” Leopold took a deep breath. “Alright. What’s your bid? Not your offer, but your plan,” Leopold waved his hand, clarifying the word ‘bid.’ “Get right to it. No preamble.”

Argrave cleared his throat, running his words through his head one last time. “Relize is run by its Grand Council, but there is precedent for that body to be set aside in times of war or crisis in favor of an absolute leader. This is decided by vote. You’ve built up a large powerbase here in Relize—instead of going after prestige and status, you’ve been working with the merchant families who can’t obtain patrician status after the Rescindment of Profligacy and Corruption. I think you can be established as that leader, and I think you can revoke the Rescindment. That would secure your future in Relize. And you would use your newfound position to help overthrow my father.”

“You would name me owner of Relize?” Leopold asked neutrally. “Its count? Or duke, perhaps, given its population?”

Argrave almost smiled—the question was a trap. “No. Relize will revert to its old system after the war is finished. The only reason Relize has become as large as it is stems from its mercantilist, competitive roots. I don’t think a hereditary position suits it.”

Leopold leaned in, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth. “You would not name me a noble?” he asked.

“Do you want that?” Argrave asked him.

Leopold stared at Argrave for a few moments, then cracked a smile, placing the toothpick back in his mouth. “Not of Relize, that’s for certain. This place would wither under an overlord, of that you’re correct.”

Leopold leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “…yeah. Yeah, it’s reasonable. It’s possible. People are scared—they want a leader. I’m respected, I think. Maybe I’m an out of touch, delusional old man… but I don’t think so. And you can pay people to respect you, despite what moralizers might say.” His brown eyes fell back upon them. “Issue here… is you three.”

“Let’s solve this issue,” Argrave suggested, and Anneliese nodded with him.

“The two of you… your claims are weak,” Leopold said bluntly. “Could fracture the realm further if you ever sit in the Dragon Palace. And sustained hostilities are truly terrible for business.”

“I’m the sole claimant here,” Argrave said. “And the south will support me. With Relize on my side, the war will be quick and decisive.”

“Saying something is so… doesn’t make it so. If that were the case, I’d be king,” Leopold leaned in on his desk. “All I see… is two very well-dressed exiles, and an unfortunate soul roped along with things.”

Anneliese smiled. “I consider myself a very fortunate soul. And I think you would be wise to consider all of what we have achieved even without significant backing.”

Leopold stared at Anneliese. “Awfully confident.” He leaned back. “Heartwarming thing to see, lovers-at-arms fighting against an old man’s words. Well…” Leopold sighed. “I am glad that Induen is dead. More of a bastard than you are, Argrave. Took thousands of gold from my pockets. And I’ve heard the tales of him. Killed your mother, I hear.”

“In the coming days, you’ll hear of an incident within the capital,” Elenore said smoothly. “Felipe’s legitimacy is at an all-time low. Orion is missing. Levin fractures the realm again, naming himself king of an independent realm of Atrus. Argrave alone can unite the realm. And of all living descendants, he is the best suited to rule this nation well.”

“Who decided that?” Leopold protested at once. “You’ve got…” his face slowly turned into a frown. “Yeah, I guess they’re all terrible. Or dead. Or insane. Eugh…” the aged patriarch rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have to think about this. Why can’t you idiots just make a system that works? No succession issues, peace at all times?”

“Maybe we can work that out later,” Argrave suggested.

“You,” Leopold looked at him. “You want to be king?”

“I have to be. Too much is at stake,” Argrave shook his head.

“Hmm.” Leopold stroked his beard. “Can’t decide if it’s bad to want it or not. I’m not…” Leopold sighed, then shook his head. “I need to consult with my family. Don’t worry—ugly they might be, but they’re not stupid. I love them, and I will make sure they’re taken care of. In addition, I have some terms.”

“Name them,” Argrave gestured.

“I don’t need nobility. It makes us weaker, unambitious,” Leopold leaned in. “Key northern territories will fall under Relize’s rule—not my family’s. I can outline these for you later. They are, in my opinion, places that could be developed into trading hubs.”

“Until you outline, I cannot agree,” Argrave shook his head. “But I am amenable to the idea.”

“I’m glad you can’t, yet. Shows prudence,” Leopold nodded. “Alright… you’ll have to lift some restrictions on trade Induen imposed. My pockets are bleeding, here.”

“So long as they’re reasonable, done,” Argrave nodded.

“I’d like a bride of fairly high status,” Leopold continued.

Argrave narrowed his eyes. “For your children?”

“For me. I’ve still life in me yet, and my last wife died some three years ago,” he nodded seriously. “And not same ancient, 60-year-old widow. A woman to bear more children.”

Argrave grew quite uncomfortable at the prospect.

Before he could answer one way or the other, Elenore said, “I can see that done.”

Argrave cast a glance at her, but the words had already been said. With that, Leopold leaned back. “Well… I have nothing else. It seems we’re in agreement. Talking with my family won’t take long—you may remain within my—”

The door opened, and Ansgar entered. “Forgive the intrusion, but I feel that, given present circumstances, the news must be delivered.”

The Dandalan walked up to the patriarch, who glared at his son but did not rebuke him. Ansgar leaned in, whispering. He stood straight.

“Given our talk… I assume the arrival of delegates from Atrus is beyond your expectation?” Leopold questioned, then nodded when he looked at their faces. “I thought so.”