Jackal Among Snakes

“What makes you think you deserve my help?”

The Stain in Argrave’s memory was a young man that was brown of hair, somewhat good-looking, but beyond that, largely average. Height, bearing—nothing about him stood out. He was Generic Thief Protagonist Incarnate. That was probably a good thing in his line of work. Criminals often dressed similarly not only to signify belonging to a group, but also to avoid having their appearance easily identifiable by the guards. The Stain that Argrave saw now, though…

He had grown his hair out somewhat. His face became sharper, and he grew better into the man he was supposed to be. He had a faint moustache and chin stubble that didn’t look terrible… nor was it something to write home about, granted. He sat in a chair opposite Elenore and Argrave on a desk, leaning the chair back and balancing it on two legs. One might call such a pose exceedingly arrogant. Argrave was waiting to see.

“Deserve? Did you miss the news flyers, the roaming undead, the appearance of lesser gods? It’s the world against Gerechtigkeit,” Argrave shot back at him.

“Yeah? And this apocalypse—invading the Great Chu involves it how?” He spread his arms out wide, stretching.

Argrave crossed his arms. He didn’t feel the need to explain everything to Stain just yet—especially not this colorful, cocky Stain. “Enemies intent on ending Vasquer lie in wait there, sieging Berendar. You can ask Almazora to provide evidence regarding that. Or, you can look to the fire in the royal forest. That was caused by enemy barrages, overseas. Regardless… I think you owe me a lot, Stain.”

Stain laughed and smiled. “I did work. You paid me. Even if it was generously, that was our arrangement. I put your coin to good work. Or maybe you’re talking about setting me up with House Parbon? That was more Elias than you, I think.” He stopped balancing, and the chair clattered down back onto four legs loudly. “But even supposing that was a debt, which it isn’t… you’d still owe me.”

Elenore looked at Argrave for direction, but for now, he didn’t feel the need to let her interject. He leaned onto the desk and said, “I can’t see how.”

“Erlebnis’ people approached me, you know. The things they offered… all they needed was for me to infiltrate Blackgard.” He waved his hand over his face, and suddenly, his face looked identical to Melanie’s. His hair grew redder as naturally as a tree changing colors with the seasons. When he next spoke, his voice was wholly different. “Could’ve done it easily. I turned them down, though.”

It wasn’t quite Melanie’s voice exactly, but it was enough to fool the ignorant ear. He waved again, and his face went back to normal. He started balancing the chair again. Now that Argrave had seen a demonstration, he was only all the more eager to bring this man into the fold. He was precisely the person that they needed for this.

“Not being a quisling to the only nation you’ve known doesn’t earn you any points in my book. It’s the bare minimum,” Argrave said, shutting down any notion that they’d owe a favor for that.

“I don’t know what quisling means, but I can guess. If you heard what they offered, well… I’m of a different mind. Not giving you up was betraying myself, you ask me. Fortunately, when you’re the best at what you do, you get to pick and choose your clients.” He pointed at Argrave with a cocky grin. “You owe me everything, Argrave.”

Argrave laughed at him. “My sister asked me to kill you. I haven’t. You owe me your life by that logic, you imbecile.”

Stain was without a response, but he kept that same incredibly punchable grin going strong all the same. This young man, it would seem, had been ruined by early success in Parbon. People that thought they were the new hotness were the hardest to work with, and it disappointed Argrave greatly that this was who the man had become.

Argrave looked at Elenore with a sigh, then stood up and walked to the window in the room. As he peered out of it, Elenore put some documents on the table.

“I’ve taken the liberty of outlining your assets,” she said. “You’re the main fence in Parbon, but you keep a good reputation by simultaneously helping people recover stolen items for a fee. A little clever… but rather high-risk. I have a comprehensive list of your clients, both thieves and thieved, who this information could reach. Overnight, that business crumbles.”

Stain looked closely at the list, but kept balancing the chair on two legs. “Business doesn’t tie back to me. I use false faces for every meet. Dead-end.”

Elenore crumpled the paper, then deposited it. “Poof. One source of income gone. Then, your druidic magic connection with Elaine in Jast… we work somewhat closely. I asked her to write me a letter describing her business with you, and if she’d be willing to end it. Well…” Elenore tapped another document, then crumpled it up. “Poof. A little less money for the Stain on House Jast. Next, money-lending. A word to the margrave, then… poof. Your little pipeweed business—poof. All the trade you have with the Burnt Desert? Poof.”

“But House Parbon would suffer t—”

“I said, poof,” Elenore interrupted him sternly. “You think Margrave Reinhardt genuinely cares if trade from the Burnt Desert withers? They’ve been at war with them for centuries. And speaking of Parbon… Argrave, what were they like last time you saw them?”

Argrave didn’t look away from the window as he said, “Well, I helped Rose walk again. Got Elias his limbs back. Father and son were willing to do just about anything for me.”

“How unfortunate,” Elenore grimaced. “Between you and Argrave, Stain, who do you think they’d choose? Especially when we inform them of all this,” she waved. “What do you think will happen to your ties, Stain?”

Argrave looked back. “Poof.”

“Very eloquently put, brother. Poof indeed.”

Stain’s eyes went toward the documents that Elenore hadn’t yet gone over, and Argrave saw his face despair slightly. He tapped against the desk, insisting, “If I’m to go into war… there has to be something in this for me, you understand?”

Elenore smiled. “Let me teach you a lesson about something called mutual benefit, Stain… and let me elaborate a little on who you’re dealing with.”

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The princess brushed aside all other documents, and then retrieved one last one. She placed it on the desk boldly. It was a simple symbol—that of a bat.

“You’re the…?” Stain said in disbelief, staring at her. “But that’s…!”

“You did know, didn’t you? Who I was working with, back in Jast,” Argrave walked back up to the desk. “Did you think that was a bluff?”

#####

“He can’t have changed all that much. Threatening him still worked great,” Elenore told Argrave, looking up at him as they stood on the deck of the Sea Dragon.

Argrave nodded. “Yeah. You might be a little scarier than Galamon was to him, even.”

“Good. I hope he has nightmares of me,” she said contemptuously. “Little weasel’s smart, though. He’d better be. I’m giving him more than he deserves. He put his foot on my desk? He could choose any face, and he chooses to look like that? Ridiculous. If I looked like that, I might consider—”

“Well, he’s no longer a thorn in your side, right?” Argrave interrupted before she could get carried away.

“The sight of him was a thorn in my eyes. But you’re right,” she shook her head. “I’ll make a little more money in Parbon, and we have an agent suitable for infiltrating the Great Chu. I’m hesitant to add him to the network of people in my head, though.”

“Suitable? He can impersonate anyone, from what I saw. Only Anneliese was able to see past it—maybe the Alchemist, too. [Truesight] isn’t a common thing, so I think that isn’t a genuine concern.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, too, and he’ll be assassinated by the imperial court just like those commanders. We can just give Rook a new champion. That elf, Ganbaatar, maybe. He was always respectful.”

“Gee, sis. These jokes you’re making—they’re hilarious. It’s funny because I know that you don’t actually want the guy dead or anything. Murder of our allies is morally objectionable, so that makes it amusing,” Argrave said with a flat affect.

“Yes, I concur, fraternal sibling,” Elenore returned in the same tone. “Stain’s death would be hilar—"

Argrave felt the coming of spirits through shamanic magic before Anneliese arrived. She appeared on the deck, staff in hand. Elenore jumped in surprise, but Argrave put his hand to calm her down then faced Anneliese.

“We’ve got a message, Argrave,” the queen said, breath a little heavy.

“What, from the commanders?” Argrave stepped toward her in concern. “Don’t tell me another…?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It was sent along with an enemy attack, cleverly disguised. A scroll was concealed inside a ballista bolt—a bolt that shattered upon breaking against the walls of the fort. Someone in the Great Chu is reaching out to us, this time.”

“Well, where is it? What does it say?” Argrave held his hands out expectantly.

“It’s safe in the fortress, I just forgot it in my haste,” she shook her head. “I remember it well, though. It was sent by a person who signed the letter with the name of Governor Zen. One phrase stuck out. ‘I want to help.’”

“If we’d like a fish hook through our lips, we might accept his help with wide-open mouths. Terrible bait,” Elenore shook her head. “Did he also say, ‘come to this location to kill yourself, drooling invalids of Vasquer?’”

“Less… directly, but perhaps,” Anneliese nodded.

“Not a bad place to send Stain for his first assignment,” Argrave held his hand up. “If this is the imperial court, we find a puppet. If it’s not, we feel him out.”

“There’s a third option. They borrowed this Governor Zen’s name without his knowledge, and he’s just a person who spends his days drinking tea and doing his job.” Elenore sighed. “But fine—let’s have Stain look into it. In the meantime, ask Ji Meng. We’ll compare the contemptible weasel’s notes to the emperor’s perception.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do, now,” Argrave shrugged.

“I’ll go as well,” Anneliese nodded. “Any conversation we have with him, I should be present. Agreed?”

“Of course I want you there. Let’s go.”

#####

“Governor Zen contacted you?” Ji Meng looked between Argrave and Anneliese, then took a drink of his Ebonice tea to buy time to think about his answer.

His captors had been very careful, but they had made some mistakes. The one named Patriarch Dras had brought in a golden bird that apparently read lies. He’d seen that same bird perching on the queen, Anneliese, the day Argrave dueled with Commander Yuan. Furthermore, he’d managed to pry some information from his guards, the hulking pale elves. They knew of magic the Great Chu was wholly ignorant of—magic to tame animals, called druidic magic. By consequence, he had to assume the worst—that this woman would know when he lied by virtue of that golden bird, hiding somewhere in the room or on her person.

Ji Meng set the cup down. If his opponents could see his cards, it wouldn’t stop him from playing them. “I was hoping Zen would reach out.”

“Is he a loyalist of yours?” Argrave inquired.

“No, he’s a right bastard,” Ji Meng smiled. “An opportunist. A greedy, grabbing ghoul that spends most of his time quietly reading in his garden while he contemplates on how best to stack gold notes higher. Most importantly, he’s someone the imperial court can’t really touch.”

“Why not?” Argrave asked. “I’m under the impression governorships can be revoked at the will of the court.”

“By law. But not by reality,” Ji Meng shook his head. “His daughter’s my current empress. I forget her real name, but her regnal name is Tai Si. He raised her well, and he’s prominent, so it fit. Tai Si controlled the harem admirably. I hated dealing with those yammering—" he reminded himself of Anneliese’s presence, then rephrased, “Dealing with the harem myself was unpleasant.”

Argrave tilted his head. “Harem’s part of the court, isn’t it? Doesn’t that make him a likely candidate to be the imperial court’s lackey?”

“No, the harem isn’t the court. The two are separate; at the same time, they don’t lack influence. Half a thousand claimants to my throne dwell within it—my sons. Each and all of the harem came from prominent families seeking influence, and as such have clout, backing, sway within the empire. It’s why these women yammer so—they all struggle viciously to let their sons sit upon my throne. It’s why they came there. They wish to be empress dowager someday, spreading their legs while they pray for me to die that they might sit their child where I once did. The empress dowager holds genuine power.” Ji Meng stroked his freshly-shaven chin ponderously. “Perhaps I should call myself fortunate that my mother died long before I ascended the throne.”

“So, Governor Zen is the key to the harem, through his daughter.” Argrave put his hand to his chin in mirror of Ji Meng.

“And the key to the empire’s food,” Ji Meng drank his tea again. “The region he governs controls a vast army and the majority of the food supply of the entire nation. All in all… Zen is a man we’ll want to know.”

“Especially you, by the sound of it,” Argrave highlighted.

Ji Meng nodded without missing a beat. “Especially me.”

Argrave cast a glance at Anneliese, and Ji Meng felt his suspicion she would know that he lied all the more founded. Why else would the king so often look to her for guidance? They could see his cards, true enough… but Ji Meng didn’t intend to let that fact overwhelm him. Already, things proceeded as he hoped despite that.