Jackal Among Snakes

If Argrave were to return Therapont’s slander with insults of his own, he expected a singular outcome. The dwarves present would view his words not just as an attack against his opponent, but all dwarves. Even if their offense was subconscious rather than conscious, that route was doomed from the beginning, and he would be seen as the malignant attacker that Therapont painted him as.

This was the senator’s trap, and Melanie’s spying had confirmed that. Therapont desperately hoped for Argrave to return slander with slander—whether to attack him, or to attack their government, or to attack their people. It was an infuriatingly effective method, too. Therapont stated facts but left them incomplete and twisted, encouraging Argrave to correct the record and confirm all he’d said.

But then, this was not a rebuttal. This was an opening argument. And Argrave intended to keep it as such.

“I believe a certain level of context is in order, people of the senate. I have a rather singular goal. I’ve been working toward it for some time. It’s not making Vasquer great, nor defeating Gerechtigkeit. I believe many of you today here have already achieved my goal, in fact. My biggest desire is to get very rich, leave a legacy I can be proud of, and then spend the rest of my long days being happy with my family. Because if there’s one thing I hate, that’s worrying.”

Argrave stepped around the central platform. “I didn’t like worrying about how the kingdom would turn out if I didn’t get involved, so I got involved. I didn’t like worrying if the tribals from the Burnt Desert would invade and ruin countless lives I cared for, so I allied with their king at great personal expense. My whole life, shamefully enough, is driven by fear of what might be. I have been terrified every step of the way, but I kept going. The alternative for all of my choices was death. I’m not a victor. I’m just alive. That’s how I ought to be remembered, if the chroniclers are honest.

“The reason I came to you, one retainer at my side, has once again been because of my abject worry. The simple fact is, my generation has been given the burden of deciding whether or not the world is fit to continue existing. Every single day, I question whether my work has been good enough, if my efforts have been sufficient. Because the cost of failure is far bigger than myself. It is all. It is everything.”

Argrave placed his hands to his chest. “What I’m saying, senators, is that I understand your reservations. You have built a life for yourself that I frankly envy, and what I ask may jeopardize that if I am indeed the velvet glove concealing the iron fist. But I fear I alone am not enough for the task. Whether that task is abolishing our centuries-old monarchy, or defeating Gerechtigkeit, I desperately need help.”

He finally looked at Therapont. “If you trust in my generation’s ability to stand against Gerechtigkeit as we are… I’m flattered. I lack your certainty. And with his malignant energy brewing in the magma of the planet core, I am utterly without options to save my people without your assistance. It may be the end of us. And I fear that it will be the end of you, too.”

Argrave’s attack was not a vicious ribbing. It was a stark reminder of the consequences of their action or inaction. It was an utterly disarming conclusion that left them with only one option—to trust Argrave. Either they trusted him to fight Gerechtigkeit as he was, or they trusted Argrave enough to be his ally. Regardless, he felt he had suitably reminded them that they, too, still lived on this planet, even buried in it as they were.

“Does that conclude your opening, Argrave?” Alexius asked.

“It does.”

“Then let your debate begin,” Alexius gestured toward both of them.

Therapont looked up at Argrave, one hand stroking his beard. “I notice you did not refute any of what I said.”

“Filling in the massive holes you left in my actions would’ve taken far longer than five minutes, and I caried a message far more important than my personal honor,” Argrave retorted calmly. “You neglected to mention my father blinded and crippled my sister, for instance. You neglected to mention that the Burnt Desert joined with Vasquer by an alliance of marriage, not a war of conquest. And you neglected to mention the Bloodwoods remain independent, led by their own leaders and gods, as equal allies in the Blackgard Union.”

“Then the king himself denies none of what I said—he accepts that his parliament has never refused him, and that its ranks are filled with people that already had a say in governance.” Therapont spoke to the crowd, yet kept his eyes on Argrave.

“For now, that is true. The dwarves were once unified by a king. Can you recall how that ended?” Argrave held his arms out. “The Miner Revolution. Scholars turned slaves organized a revolt among free dwarven miners and landowners, killing tens of thousands in the process. If I nullified my kingdom, do you think my people, which have lived like this for seven hundred years, would so peaceably accept it? No—Vasquer would fragment into petty kingdoms as a thousand lords vied to retain tradition. It would be as bloody as prospect as expecting this Dwarven Senate to become a monarchy overnight.” He held his hand to his chest. “I cannot let countless die because of impatience. I seek a peaceful change. That is a necessary thing in the face of Gerechtigkeit.”

Therapont scoffed. “And how long will you cling to the notion of monarchy by necessity? Once Gerechtigkeit is beaten, you will claim the monarch needs to rebuild—that the transition to another form of governance in untenable in wake of the chaos wrought. And how long will that take? Ten years? Twenty? Who is to say if the parliament will even exist, in so many years? It is a young institution, with no guarantees.”

“I think coming here, largely unguarded, should aptly demonstrate what I think of my status, of my value as so-called ‘nobility.’ I am a bastard born out of wedlock—by Vasquer law, not royalty. I consider myself nothing more than a soldier fighting an invader—Gerechtigkeit. I think my earnestness is in plain display as I stand here, today, among people who owe me nothing.” Argrave gestured all around at the guards and senators, watching him cautiously.

“Yet you seal alliances with other nations using your blood.” Therapont pointed. “Your wife is daughter to the patriarch of the snow elves. Your sister is wed to the King of the Scorched Sands—my own son bore witness to their union. I ask you—do these seem like the actions of one ready and willing to dismantle the monarchy?! And even if you were, would your allies stand idly by and let it happen? No, I say. Your bloodline has been inextricably entangled with your nation, and to remove it would be to end it.”

Argrave had been awaiting this issue, but Therapont posed his point so cogently that Argrave felt doubt creep in. He did not believe he could convince this crowd that both marriages had been for love. He could explain one out of two, at least.

“Our alliance with the Veidimen—or snow elves, as you called them—existed long before I married Anneliese. She was adopted by Patriarch Dras to justify our marriage of love to the nobles swearing fealty to me.” Argrave dipped as head. “Still, I share your concern, and that is why I seek dwarven aid. I admire the government that Alexander established here in Mundi, and if I could be half so lucky in emulating it on the surface, I would be truly blessed.”

Therapont smiled. “In simpler terms, you have no retort. Your blood is tied with your nation inexorably, sealing alliances and promises. The monarchy is integral to your state.”

“My choice was to sacrifice the happiness of one to earn a powerful ally, or damn thousands to death in brutal war while Gerechtigkeit looms. If you’d choose differently, I would call you a monster.” Argrave let the silence hang for a few seconds, then continued, “But I will admit, it’s not an alliance made in the manner I had hoped. There are far more preferable methods to tie nations together—methods I hope to employ here, calling upon new ideas. Better ideas. Diplomacy should not be a one-time exchange to establish a treaty. Instead, I intend for it to be more. I intend to establish permanent goodwill between our peoples. Let us discuss the specifics of my proposal.”

Therapont did not look content being so deftly diverted away from the matter of bloodlines, and he stroked his beard a little fiercely before asking, “Very well. That is only just.”

“It is my hope that both our nations might establish permanent diplomatic missions. I bid your people to live among ours in an autonomous zone in the capital—an embassy. There, your diplomats may bear witness to and advise the parliament and myself directly. You would be given the opportunity to safeguard the interests of both your nation and the democratic ideas it has fostered.”

“Hah!” Therapont threw back his head and laughed. “And you would expect the same privilege for your people as well, I presume? Planting spies amidst our people? Agents, to plot your conquest?”

“No,” Argrave shook his head. “Though I would give you access to our government, I would not expect it in kind. Trust is to be earned—this I understand. I am prepared to show you the very heart of my state. In time, it is my hope that the trust I display fosters into mutual understanding.”

Therapont shook his head. “You ask for dwarven hostages, not diplomats.”

“I am prepared to make great concessions to earn trust,” Argrave held his hand out. “I know what is at stake—the very world. All I seek is the right to pursue the malignant energy of Gerechtigkeit in the planet’s core. In return, we will defend you and all your people. We will safeguard your rights, and your government, from any and all. Why? Because this is about survival, Therapont. The founder of this city, Alexander, proposed adaptability above all. Now, you’ve built the greatest city in the world. I believe it is time for your people to adapt to that position.”

Therapont looked at Argrave, stroking his beard. He tapped his bare foot against the ground, and then shook his head with a bitter smile. “Head…” he looked to Alexius. “I believe I must recuse myself from this debate.”

Alexius blinked in surprise. “And why is that?”

“I believe I can no longer effectively represent opposition to Argrave’s proposal.”

“You mean… you no longer oppose Argrave’s idea?”

Therapont turned. “That is not what I said.”

But the senator did not deny that was what he meant. And nor could any others, Argrave realized, as he looked upon them. Therapont’s request for recusal was a resounding endorsement for Argrave, larger than any words he might’ve spoken in the debate to follow.

“Well…” Alexius looked upon Therapont, tapping his fingers against the armrest. “Your request for a recusal on grounds of impartiality has been granted. Senate will take a recess to allow time for Argrave’s opposition to find a suitable replacement. Reconvene in ten minutes.”

Though recess was called, Alexius’ words might as well spell victory. All that remained was the senate’s discussion, and a vote. As Argrave looked at Therapont, he realized he’d gained a rather fierce advocate. And more importantly, Argrave defended the path of his nation moving forward.