Jackal Among Snakes

Levin walked a bridge from the Dragon Palace, heading to a lone tower with a cone roof. Two royal guards stood in front of it. They were large men, just short of Levin’s height, and their golden helmets swiveled as they followed the prince’s approach.

The prince paused just before the door. “She’s awake?” he questioned.

“Yes, prince,” the rightward knight nodded.

Levin nodded curtly and shot his cuffs. He fixed his collar, swallowed, then pushed open the door. In the distance, the sound of chains swaying rattled out. The room was dark, the windows mostly blocked by curtains. Levin stepped within hesitantly, then shut the thick door he’d pushed open.

Levin cast a spell, and a ball of light rose up into the air. A woman ahead flinched and gasped, and tried to crawl away.

“Mother. It’s fine. It’s me,” Levin said, stepping closer very slowly with his hands spread out to show he meant no harm.

Light from his spell illuminated the woman. She was pale, dreadfully thin, and bound in a straitjacket. She had blonde hair, but it was unwashed, matted, and greasy. Her bright blue eyes shone back against the light like sapphires. Felipe had married Valeria because of those eyes, so the tale went—they reminded him of his first wife’s.

“Where’s my husband?” the woman asked. “He’s the king. Once you’re found… cut your losses. Let me go, I can let you live. I can give you a pardon. My husband listens to me. Once you’re found…”

Levin paused, studying her face. Though she had been bound in a jacket to protect her from harming herself, it hadn’t stopped it completely. Her lips had been bitten into tattered shreds. Her fingers couldn’t grow back—she’d eaten those. But her lips could be healed.

Feeling encouraged by her clarity, Levin knelt. “You’re here for your own good, mother. Let me treat your face.”

The woman flinched away as Levin extended his hand… yet when healing magic started to close the cuts on her lip, she gradually accepted things.

“My baby…” Valeria said.

“That’s right. I’m here,” Levin nodded, smiling excitedly.

“Where is Orion? Where is he? Where’s my baby?” she demanded harshly. “I want to see him.”

Levin’s smile morphed subtly, and he looked to the ground, eyes dead. He bit his lips hard enough to draw blood, then shook his head. “I’m going to be leaving, mother. For good.”

Valeria glared at him, bloodshot eyes darting around in a frenzy.

Levin lifted his head up. “I’ve been working together with a coalition of northern nobles unhappy with my father. We’re going to split from Vasquer… form the Kingdom of Atrus. I’m going to be crowned its first king.” Levin clasped his hands together. “Really… never thought to call myself that.”

If the woman he called mother heard and understood him, she hardly showed it.

“But I don’t think this will last. Maybe I’ll be proven wrong… but really, it’s just an excuse not to get involved in the war. These northern nobles, they want to stay out of the fighting. I offered that opportunity. And then, when the fighting dies down… I’ll negotiate a spot in the new Vasquer from a position of strength. Whether Orion’s running things, or Argrave, or Elenore… doesn’t matter.” Levin shook his head, then sat.

“I don’t want to be king. Never expected it. Never sought it,” Levin continued. “But… more and more, I see my father slipping away from what he usually does. He’s losing it. And Argrave… to see his progress… if even he can succeed as he has, I realize now that it’s time for me to do something.”

“My husband will stop you,” Valeria said, pushing away from Levin with her feet. The chains that bound her rung. “Wait. This rebellion of yours… another footnote in our history.”

Levin turned his head back to his mother. “I can get you out of here, mother. I want to help you. Your son wants to help you. If I’m your son… just say it. I’ll help.”

Valeria stopped trying to crawl away. “I saw the lilies dance upon the grave of a dead world. I saw them. I saw the coming terrors. He will end you all. The black one is coming for you. The ground will split for his wrath. Time itself will end. We must be united. Stop!” she screamed manically.

Levin rose to his feet and spoke over her screams, declaring, “Felipe isn’t going to be doing anything. He’s going to wait in this fortress of his, more and more allies forsaking him day by day. I’m going to ruin him. All that he’s had me do over the years—murders, abductions, hiding his sexual escapades, spreading the plague… I kept records of it. Everyone’s going to get their hands on it: incontrovertible proof. His allies will abandon him. His espionage network will wither,” Levin tapped his chest. “And after his vault is emptied, after Relize joins Atrus… he’ll have no money. So… it’s over.”

Queen Valeria started to sob hysterically. Levin clenched his teeth together tightly, looking down at her. Then, with a quiet rage, he turned on his heel and left. He pushed open the great door to the tower, and slammed it shut behind him.

“Come,” he told the royal knights as he passed by. “We’re done.”

#####

The cart that Elenore had commandeered for their journey to Relize stopped at a quaint little village a fair distance away from Dirracha. The excuse used was that the cart had a destroyed wheel, and it would take some time for repairmen to arrive as the wheels were enchanted. Well, that alibi was made reality when Melanie destroyed the wheel… but that was the pretext.

In the coming days, Elenore eagerly made use of Anneliese and her Starsparrow to transport messages long distances. With her help, she could operate effectively for hundreds of miles near instantaneously. The princess saw the full use of such a thing, and constantly spoke of sending word to Elaine to acquire some of these spells, integrate them into her personnel. Argrave was excited of the potential of druidic magic integration as well.

A full assessment of the damage done by the king’s untimely visit was made after the first day. The damage to Elenore’s network was significant. In essence, Felipe’s attack told the world at large two things—the Bat was not a friend to the king, and the Bat had been concealing the companion of the first king, the great snake Vasquer.

The assault had effects beyond the body count numbering near fifty. People that were closely entwined with Vasquer and the royal family would be less likely to do business with the Bat, now—she was an open enemy of the kingdom. Yet even so… the public would likely be equally focused on another shocking thing.

Levin released a record of all the king’s wrongdoings. Argrave noticed immediately that most of these wrongdoings Levin himself had perpetrated… yet it was the nature of things. The prince departed from Vasquer, claiming he could not bear to support his father anymore after what had come to light. This move completely batted aside the mutually assured destruction Elenore had hoped for. Levin got away having pillaged the royal vault, and he brought a vast retinue of royal knights to the north. They numbered near one hundred.

Rumors swirled that Levin intended to put himself forth as a claimant to Vasquer, or that he sought to break free of Vasquer and form an independent realm, or that he would merely retire to a simple estate in the north. Barring that the last one was far-fetched given his knightly escort, Argrave didn’t know which held any truth. Elenore couldn’t parse through them any better.

As for Vasquer—the snake, not the kingdom or the dynasty—their prediction proved to be accurate. It was impossible to avoid leaking to the public that Vasquer had been found. Felipe had the giant snake tended to by mages and paraded this fact to the public enthusiastically. Even still, the purge in the palace had been thorough, and Elenore could not get any genuine details as to what the monarch intended to do with the snake.

Yet the princess had another reason for staying. Therese. Elenore told Argrave the girl had been a maid that had been a bit naïve, yet steadfastly loyal and willing to get her hands dirty with some simple tasks. Elenore had trusted no one more.

Now, the princess stood before a simple wooden coffin, head turned downwards.

“You’re going to… open it?” Durran questioned, standing off to the side.

“Pointless. I can perceive that within with these items,” Elenore gestured towards her jewelry. “Therese is dead.”

“Right,” Durran nodded. “Forget I…” he trailed off, realizing it would be best to stop talking.

Argrave gently rubbed her back as Elenore stood before the coffin. Argrave didn’t know what else to do. In a family with many cousins, uncles, and other such distant relatives, he’d been to many funerals where other people were sad while he knew nothing. It was best to stay quiet, offer nothing more than warmth. So he thought, at least.

“She was tortured,” Elenore said hollowly. “Long while. Long enough it nearly killed her on its own. Then… once Levin presented his story, everything he got out of her… he killed her quickly.” Elenore shook her head. “All I could get.”

“You have my condolences,” Galamon offered her, head bowed.

Elenore nodded. “I killed her. I ruined her. Took something white, made it black. Covered her in blood. And until the end…” Elenore knelt down, placing one hand atop the coffin for support. “I should be in there.”

“You’re trivializing what she did, then,” Durran informed her coldly. “She made her own choices.”

Elenore lifted her head up, her face flushed. “I trivialize nothing. Honest people get ruined by scum like me—that’s the way of the world. I’m…” Elenore swallowed, then rose. “She’s dead because of me. I told her to trust me. She did. And now…” Her chin tremored. “How am I any different than my father?”

“Don’t say things like that,” Argrave said with a quiet strength. “You never harmed her. You didn’t abduct her. Levin did. Felipe did.”

“But I did. She had her youth, she had her innocence, and I tore her away from all that, used her, tossed her aside,” Elenore said, voice growing in speed and intensity by the second until she suddenly stopped. “I need… alone,” she said an incomplete sentence, and then stepped away.

Argrave watched as she walked away, feeling his gut wrench. He bit his lip and then looked back to the coffin.

“Nice job, Argrave,” Durran said.

Argrave looked towards the tribal. “What did I do?”

Durran held his hand in the direction Elenore had walked away. “Really necessary to force this to happen? What good does it do? Does it build character? She’s got plenty of that, you little bastard.”

Argrave stood there, mouth agape. He didn’t have a response ready. Durran stared back at him for a long while, then shook his head and turned away.

Argrave felt someone walk up beside him. “Please… treat his words as wind,” Anneliese said quietly. “He does not mean it. He is merely frustrated.”

Argrave looked to her. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s right.”

Anneliese said nothing. Even the elf, empath as she was, seemed just as lost as Argrave in moments like these.