Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave scattered bread across the streets, watching as the pigeons dropped down and chewed on it without care for the abundance of people walking about. He looked one in the eye, and then his hand shone with a spell matrix. Argrave felt a bizarre sensation in his chest that felt as though some carbonated liquid was bubbling about near his heart.

After the spell finished, the bird flew up and joined a flock of six unprompted. They acted just as ordinary birds, but Argrave felt there was a certain connection between the six of them distinctly separate from the rest of the animals. They moved together, acted together, and never strayed too far from Argrave’s sight.

“You should stop here,” Anneliese said. “Bonding with too many creatures can change your behavior, especially if they’re all of the same species.”

Argrave stood. “Six birds. It should be fine as a temporary druidic partner. Mostly for scouting, anyway.”

“I’m curious why you use the C-rank spell [Pack Leader] instead of a more sophisticated, direct method of controlling the animals for detailed observation,” Anneliese asked. “Knowing exact details about an enemy is important.”

Argrave gestured, and then continued to walk down the street. “Gives me less control, sure, but with two mages, one of us can act as a net. [Pack Leader] allows one to control many of one species, but I get only a general sense of what each is feeling. If they feel something, or spot something dangerous, you can use one of the aforementioned more precise druidic spells to get a detailed examination…” Argrave trailed off, taking a look at Anneliese.

Anneliese had her arms crossed, and her gaze was locked on something else. Argrave followed her gaze, lifting his head up. There was a body hanging from a rope. It had been cast from a window and tied to something inside. It took a few seconds for Argrave to realize it was a Veidimen. Once he realized that, Argrave became very aware that they were being stared at.

“You alright?” Argrave asked.

“I’m fine. My people attacked theirs. Perhaps I should have expected this,” she returned quickly. “Keep going.”

Argrave clicked his tongue, but eventually said, “When we make it to Jast, I know a shop that sells some enchanted iron circlets. They muddle the features, make them less distinct for the average passersby. It’s an illusion enchantment. For now, maybe we should get going… or buy a hood.”

Anneliese lifted her head, amber eyes locking with his gaze as he waited for her answer. Eventually, she touched her hair. “The long hair would make a hood difficult. I will manage for now. But thank you.”

“Alright,” Argrave said, keeping his gaze steady. “We’re done here, any—”

“Argrave,” a guttural, spine-chilling voice called out.

Argrave turned to the source of the voice. Galamon stood there, his black, fur-coated armor covered in a large cloak. There was a bit of his armor missing at the torso from the attack he’d suffered outside Barden.

“Holy hell,” Argrave exclaimed, walking forward without caution. “I’d never forget that growl. Was wondering when you’d turn up.”

Galamon stayed silent, his white eyes staring at the ground. He refused to meet Argrave’s gaze.

“We were just wrapping up. Let’s go back to that abandoned house. We have some things to discuss,” Argrave stepped forward, touching Galamon’s shoulder. “Saved me a lot of trouble. Thought I’d have to go search Barden for you.”

#####

“What is this? Why the kowtow?”

Galamon had his face and hands on the floor while kneeling. “What I’ve done cannot be forgiven. I broke a contract. I harmed the other party.”

Argrave huffed, and then sat down at the chair in the abandoned house, rubbing his forehead. Anneliese walked into the house, brow furrowed after seeing this scene. She shut the door slowly, her eyes jumping from person to person.

“Alright, get up,” Argrave commanded, gesturing with his hand. “Get up, you’re embarrassing me,” he repeated when Galamon did nothing.

Galamon took his head off the floor, but he refused to stop kneeling. His white eyes stayed locked on the chair that Argrave sat at, as though he dared not look at Argrave directly.

“I broke a contract,” Galamon repeated. “My sin is without measure. I was contracted to protect you, and yet I was the very thing that brought you harm.”

“I thought we settled this back at the village,” Argrave said. “Wasn’t a big deal, really. You dealt with the tomb guardians. Everything worked out. Just bad timing on my part—something to learn from.”

“Even if you have forgiven me, I violated Veid’s teachings. I must be punished,” Galamon said determinedly, his low voice going even lower.

“Punished,” Argrave repeated. “You took an arrow to the gut for me. A shoulder-shot, too, upon further examination,” he noted, seeing a puncture on the elf’s pauldron. Argrave leaned in. “I’m not going to punish you. I really don’t care. Everything worked out fine, now… we just get back to business.”

Galamon’s head shook quickly. “Then I will punish myself. Veid would demand it.”

Argrave sighed in exasperation. “What are you planning to do, go take a sunbath?” Argrave shook his head. “Anneliese, want to chime in?” He turned to her.

She nodded. “Ordinarily, a chief would decide the punishment for breaking contract if the contractor did not wish for punishment. Should that fail… they leave it to the oath breaker.”

Argrave shook his head. He crossed his legs, falling into thought. Eventually, he nodded. “Alright. Let’s think about this. I won’t beat you. Would probably hurt me more than you, considering my physical deficiencies. All things considered… let’s quantify the damage done.” Argrave held up his fingers, counting. “There’s the blood loss, you squeezed my neck real tight, and I had to walk with a cane for a while—very embarrassing. Let’s call that last one ‘mental trauma.’

“All said,” Argrave continued. “You add all that up, carry the one… way I figure it, you’re looking at about ten years of indentured servitude as my personal retainer.”

Galamon met Argrave’s eyes for the first time. The two waited quietly, staring at each other.

“What, you think I’m kidding around?” Argrave said finally. “We’re going to be doing some dangerous stuff, my friend. Failure usually means death. I’ve also got a ridiculous number of books to haul about, and I’m definitely not carrying them. Those things are damned heavy.”

Argrave put his hand to his chin, and then pointed to Galamon as he remembered something. “I’ve got years’ worth of manual labor for you to do… making potions, fetching things, et cetera. You’re going to be the muscle I severely lack.”

The big snow elf lowered his head once more and took off his helmet. His hair fell over his face.

“We understand each other?” Argrave pressed. “Your punishment’s really quite harsh. This is why you don’t ask me to do these things.”

Galamon laughed. It was quite a grating noise, and very haunting besides, but it was the first time Argrave had heard it. “You’ll work me to the bone, I know.” He lifted his head up, and his face took on his typical dour expression. “But Argrave. I am sorry. I’ll be sure that it never happens again.”

“Maybe get big canteens instead of flasks. What do I know, though,” Argrave waved dismissively. “Anyway, now that we’ve put this nonsense behind us, we can start getting ready.” Argrave put his hands to his knees, about to stand, but he paused.

“Galamon… where are your weapons?” Argrave asked, scanning the man’s waist and back.

“I… did not want to alarm you. I placed them upstairs.”

With a snap of his fingers, Argrave stood. “Go get them. We have some things to fetch from a certain ruin you’re familiar with. It’s near empty and full of real valuable stuff. You think I’m going to let someone else take that prize from me? We’ll need that Ebonice axe for the big metal man still at the entrance. We can talk about what happened in Veiden, from why Anneliese is with us today to how your family is doing.”

“You spoke to them,” Galamon said quietly.

“I did. Muriem said she loves you. Rhomaden said, ‘I don’t know,’ but he probably does too.” Argrave took a step forward, grabbing Galamon’s shoulder. “I promised her that, one day, you’d be sitting side-by-side with me as we talked. Family dinner, maybe. Keep your calendar open.”

Galamon said nothing. Argrave patted Galamon’s shoulder, then walked away. Galamon raised his hand to his eyes, hiding a glistening wetness briefly. Then, he stood, putting his helmet back on. He looked to Argrave’s back, and his fist clenched as a faint smile marked his face. With a slight nod, he moved to retrieve his weapons.

#####

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Nikoletta asked, looking up at Argrave from his position on horseback. She was escorted by two knights and an unusually reticent Mina.

“That’s the plan, yeah. I have a few things to take care of. I do appreciate you giving us these horses.” Argrave turned his head to Anneliese and Galamon, and they both acknowledged his words with a nod.

“Maybe Nicky shouldn’t have, considering you lost the first two she gave you,” Mina commented. “Though, you’d probably have stolen them if she hadn’t.”

“You steal one horse, people call you the horse-thief forever,” Argrave said, feigning sadness.

Nikoletta laughed a little. She raised a hand to block out the sunlight from her eyes. “Well, this lines up nicely. Castro intends to wake my father tomorrow afternoon. If you’re not gone by then, our whole plan might go bust.”

“I know,” Argrave nodded. “But time is a-wasting. I should be off.” He pulled on the horse’s reins.

“Hold on,” Nikoletta stopped him. Argrave looked back to her. “I might not see you, as I have to stay with Castro during my father’s treatment. Where are you going tomorrow?”

“Jast, by carriage. Got a lot of cargo and some obligations there, after all.” Argrave disclosed. “After… I have some things in mind, but I have to discuss said things with my two elven companions. The price of doing business, I guess.”

“I see.” Nikoletta nodded, and then her expression turned pensive. “I’d ask you to be safe, but frankly, what you’ve told me leads me to believe you can’t promise that without lying. You should… take better care of yourself,” she said sincerely.

“That’s one of the things I have planned, actually,” Argrave said with a grin. “Well, if I stay longer you might start weeping, so I must depart. Goodbye, Nikoletta, Mina. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

“House Monticci probably owes you its continued existence. You don’t need to thank me for anything.” Nikoletta smiled bitterly. “Goodbye, Argrave.”

“Bye, Grave. You’re… a good guy,” Mina said slowly. “Be well.”

Argrave nodded. “Right.” Argrave pointed to the distant mountains. “Off to Aethel-something, crew. We’ll multitask—plan for the future, grave rob for the present.”

“What are you—” Nikoletta started to say, but her voice faded as Argrave set his horse into a gallop.