Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 224: Third Figure

In the far distance, a party of over a dozen moved across the plains towards their party. A scout shouted, “Two A-rank! Three C-rank! Nine mundane!”

“At ease!” shouted the Margrave, his voice a great bellow beneath his gilded white great helm. He spurred his horse forward and proceeded, moving to meet the party that came. The A-rank mages were the men the Margrave had sent to guard his son.

As the two came nearer… Mina, Elias, Nikoletta, and Stain came into view, and the Margrave hastened his horse. The roaming warbands bearing the flag of Vasquer, though far from the host, took note of the detachment. The army prepared to cover the Margrave if he should come under attack.

“Son,” the Margrave greeted in a shout, slowing his horse as the two came near. “You’re alone.”

Stain seemed to want to correct that very desperately, but he stayed silent. None of the others seemed to mind.

“I am,” Elias nodded, making Stain all the more frustrated. “We have to talk, father. Who is present?”

The Margrave nodded. “A great deal of those supporting us. Come,” he waved his hands, then pulled on his horse’s reins.

The sound of horns blew across the plains. The Margrave whipped his head about, watching the movement of the enemy hosts scattered about the plains. Once one of the other parties heard the horn sounding, it was echoed to the next party, and like this, communication was quickly established.

The horses grew uneased by the sound of the horn as though it told of an ill omen. The lesser, poorly trained warhorses stirred, yet most remained firm. The Margrave clenched the reins tight in his white gauntlets, waiting and watching.

Yet the enemy parties moved out and away, converging towards several designated points. It seemed they were regrouping, yet not attacking. The Margrave nodded. “Come, Elias, everyone.”

#####

Elias stepped inside his father’s war tent, legs still stiff from such a long and tense ride on horseback. The armies could not proceed past certain geographical points without technically breaking the clause of non-interference in Order business, yet there was still an instinctual fear when seeing the roaming bands of warriors willing and able to slaughter Elias outside that boundary on his trek here.

Bizarrely enough, that fear was not abated being in his father’s command tent. The multitude of powerful people present put Elias on edge—his father, Duke Enrico of Monticci, Duke Marauch of Elbraille, Count Delbraun of Jast, and Duke Sumner of Dedsworth from the southeast. There were many other powerful lords that had lent their name to the aid of House Parbon, and all stood before a long rectangular table.

Elias had told his father Reinhardt what Argrave had said. He had expected to try desperately to persuade the Margrave to accept Argrave, poor though his conditions might be. But then, his father did something that defied his expectation—he asked Elias to deliver the news to all the gathered leaders himself.

Margrave Reinhardt stepped past Elias. Everyone followed Reinhardt with their gazes as he walked—it was clear enough just by that alone that he was the leader. Reinhardt walked around the table, coming to stand at the head of the rectangular table. Elias stood opposite him, and the rest of his companions from the Tower came to stand beside or behind him.

“My lords,” Reinhardt said loudly and clearly, his commander’s voice naturally drawing the attention of what few individuals did not already look at him. “My son has returned from the Tower of the Gray Owl alongside his three companions, having spoken to Argrave.”

All four—Stain, Elias, Nikoletta, and Mina—came to stand side-by-side, directly opposite the Margrave. Mina seemed discomforted, for she had no relatives present whatsoever. She was not so out of place as Stain, who desperately tried to ignore the fact his brother, who had disinherited him, stood just beside the Margrave.

Realizing that none would speak first, Elias answered his father. “Indeed, we spoke to Argrave. The rumor of him slaying is brother is categorically true. It was the culmination of a feud near a decade old—Induen slayed Argrave’s mother in cold blood before his eyes and had been abusing him for years.”

“You speak like his advocate,” Duke Sumner of Dedsworth noted.

Duke Sumner was a mage, and a powerful one—his family of Dedsworth, like Count Delbraun of Jast’s, were traditionally mages. His A-rank ascension was not particularly out of the norm, and so he seemed rather plain—a finely-cut brown beard leavened with wavy hair. He looked as young as Elias, though with a certain maturity about him that would make people second-guess.

Margrave Reinhardt leaned over the table, and its wooden frame creaked beneath the weight of his body and armor. “I sent Elias to find and retrieve Argrave to introduce all of him to you,” Reinhardt disclosed. “I wished to consider him our primary claimant against Vasquer.”

Though it was no news at all to Elias, it sent a ripple through the assembled nobles at once. Duke Sumner said, “This was never a war of disputed heritage, Margrave Reinhardt. Felipe has the blood of Vasquer in him, strong as anyone, and his sons each and all inherited it without question. They are in the line of succession, indisputably. Even then, Argrave is a bastard… and now, a kinslayer, regardless of his reasoning.”

The words were spoken neutrally, but Sumner’s points grew some support from the people that opposed the notion of a bastard.

“Felipe and all of his trueborn issue… there is something wrong with them, something corrupt,” Reinhardt said at once. “I firmly believe, based on their actions and their words, that they have strayed from the righteous path. They have deviated from the path of a king. Felipe, Orion, Levin… they are not fit. And I would not have the kingdom descend into petty states feuding over the throne when we are finished. We need a claimant.”

“What about Princess Elenore?” Duke Marauch suggested innocently.

Many present expressed disapproval. Count Delbraun spoke, his voice cutting through the noise to say, “The blind cannot see the path ahead; how will they lead us down it? I will admit she was a bright, vivacious youth… but Felipe cruelly robbed her of all potential and keeps her locked within a greenhouse in the capital. A ruler cannot wholly rely on their servants—any council would have complete control over her. Besides, a woman has never ruled over Vasquer.”

Stain glowered at the ashen-haired, orange-eyed man that was his brother. Delbraun did not deign to even acknowledge Stain’s presence.

“My lords,” Elias said, voice mustering the same bit of authoritativeness as his father’s. “During the time spent at the Tower, I dedicated much of my time to surveying Argrave’s character. All four of us did,” he waved between the four of them that had been present. “My escorts, too, bore witness to his character. I can guarantee each and all of us will attest that having Argrave on the throne after the war is finished is our best option—indeed, perhaps the only option that can preserve the centuries-old monarchy of Vasquer.”

Those words drew the attention of all, and Elias tried to press pass his nervousness. “Duke Enrico—please describe the events of Mateth.”

Duke Enrico shifted in surprise being called upon, running a hand through his blue hair to gather himself. “Well… after informing me of the coming invasion and enabling me to prepare defenses, Argrave aided in the defense of a coastal village. After negotiating a parley with the snow elf commander, he sailed with them to their homeland of…” the Duke trailed off, forgetting.

“Veiden,” Mina cut in, crossing her arms.

“Veiden,” Enrico nodded. “While there… he negotiated with the leader of these snow elves. Without his intervention, and without our own good fortune, Mateth and the entire coastline would be occupied by them. Their naval forces were vastly superior to our house’s prized fleet, and their warriors very nearly seized the city. Argrave was the one to secure peace.”

“But you have an interest in making him look good,” a countess swearing fealty to Duke Sumner noted. “After all, Argrave is supposedly betrothed to Nikoletta.”

Enrico lowered his head, but Nikoletta rebutted, “Argrave and I are not betrothed, nor will we be.”

The Duke shot a surprised glance at his daughter.

“I see,” said Duke Sumner. He seemed ambivalent about the news, but others seemed eager—a bachelor claimant to the throne? An enticing proposition, it would seem.

“He is betrothed to a snow elf,” Elias said, tearing the bandage off right away. He knew it would be pragmatic to exclude this detail, but he would not lie to people fighting a war on their behalf. “A B-rank mage by the name of Anneliese.”

One noble present laughed aloud, turning away from the table. Many more sour looks passed through the assembled nobles.

“Following the invasion at Mateth, Argrave headed to the northwest,” Elias continued, hoping to redirect the conversation quickly.

“Hold a moment,” Baron Abraham, vassal to the Margrave, interrupted. He had a slight history with Argrave, having met him at Jast. “Why is this betrothal being glossed over? That is a serious issue, to take one of elven blood to wife. All of this is an ill omen. It speaks of strong ties to foreign powers!”

Elias shifted on his feet. “This was a point I brought up to Argrave. It’s not an issue he will compromise on.”

“Anneliese is a genius,” Nikoletta said plainly. “She understands magic and people like no other I have met. The Order has accepted her as an Honorary Wizard, and she was applying to join the Order officially as a High Wizard. This is not a loss, this betrothal—it is a tremendous boon.”

“Forget the woman,” Delbraun said. “Enrico himself claimed that this war was lost before Argrave brought it to a halt. A bride of their people? That hints at collusion, of close ties—who can say where Argrave’s loyalty lies? He travels with two of these snow elves!”

Even those that had seemed positively predisposed to the idea of Argrave being their claimant agreed with that statement vigorously.

“Perhaps he has an arrangement to occur after the war is finished,” someone suggested. “When all our armies are weakened and battered, perhaps this invasion shall resume.”

Stain noticed the way things were trending and said loudly, “This is all baseless, unreasonable assumption. The elves were winning—if he were their allies, he would not have gotten peace, not have returned to Vasquer our allies.”

Duke Sumner shrugged. “Who knows what they’ve offered him? Land, vengeance…”

Elias planted his fists firmly against the table. “Could anything compare to a kingship? We lose the plot, my lords! We speak of Argrave and his character. I can assure you on the name of House Parbon, nothing material would motivate him.”

Elias’ words were enough to stifle further discussion as he used his House’s name behind those words. It couldn’t stifle the near undisguised contempt for Argrave’s foreign company.

“This man you lords so quickly deem a traitor travelled to the northwest, where he endangered his own life combatting this terrifying plague. All of us have experienced this fell illness firsthand—some of us, more than others,” Elias gestured vaguely to his eye. “Argrave knew the danger it posed. He took action. Ultimately, he and Orion put an end to it.”

“’Put an end to it?’” Count Delbraun repeated. “What does this mean?”

Elias swallowed. “Most present might agree on this point—the plague, this waxpox, it was unusual in many ways.” Elias rubbed at his cheek. “This mark, here—it was spreading vigorously across my body before stopping suddenly. The fact is, this plague was an assault from the northwest of a mystical nature—and Argrave, he learned of it and ended it with Orion’s aid.”

The nobles were a mixture of those impressed and those in disbelief.

“You can talk to people who will personally confirm that—refugees from the north. Argrave put an end to it with Orion’s help, I swear it,” Mina stepped forth, saying so boldly. “He had me stall Induen at my father’s keep to ensure he was not interrupted during this process.”

Duke Sumner leaned over the table. “But all of this—it’s secondhand reports. Where is Argrave? We must see him, speak to him, judge him and this… snow elf with our own eyes.”

Elias had been wondering how to phrase Argrave’s refusal the whole while. “Argrave agreed to act as our claimant. However… he believes we are insufficient to fight against Vasquer, weakened from the plague as we all are. He plans to bring his own army to the war.”

“Then there it is!” Duke Sumner gestured towards Elias. “If that is not an admission of ties to foreign lands, what is?”

Though the assembled nobles rose in support, Margrave Reinhardt spoke for the first time in a while, silencing the burgeoning uproar. “What do you mean, Elias? What army?”

“Beyond saying there were untapped forces in the north, he refused to divulge more. In my personal opinion, I think he intends to call upon allies in the north to betray Vasquer, and feared the king catching wind of his scheme,” Elias said bluntly. “Argrave feared informants, foremost among them being the Bat.”

Evidently, many present had heard that name, for the excuse brought a strange silence with it. That name held weight. It seemed everyone had, directly or indirectly, associated with the Bat.

Stain contributed, “Informants led Induen to Argrave, after all. Induen wanted to harass him, kill his betrothed. He’s reasonable to be paranoid.”

Elias wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not, but he let it slide because it supported their argument.

“You learned nothing of this army he mentioned while he was there?” Duke Sumner held his hands out. “We cannot risk involving a third power in our war. We cannot back a claimant that might tear this realm asunder by involving a conqueror. Do you know nothing of his ties?”

Elias hesitantly said, “Argrave was very cautious.”

“Margrave Reinhardt…” Duke Sumner turned to him. “I support the idea that Vasquer needs to be overthrown. But such an uncertain variable, such a wild force… can we support it?”

Reinhardt stood up straight and asked, “If Argrave did bring a third army, could we even stop that?”

That set a grim tone to the conversation.

Delbraun suggested softly, “We might negotiate an armistice with Vasquer to fight the—”

“Do you think Vasquer would accept that?” Reinhardt roared. “Felipe would demand all of our heads as the terms for the peace. He would take more than that—he’d make an example of all the most prominent of us. And even beyond that, the people would continue to suffer beneath the tyrannical reign of this generation’s Vasquers.”

Duke Sumner shook his head. “You do not know that.”

“We have no option, Sumner,” Enrico said insistently.

“We do,” Sumner shook his head. “We continue as we were—rebels against tyranny, not rebels supporting a claimant.”

“Then we lose,” Reinhardt stated. “All the neutral lords of the south will stay neutral with no claimant. The undecided lords of the north will eventually support the winning side. All of us—each and all—will be stripped of our lands, our families butchered.”

Sumner stepped away from his spot, moving towards Reinhardt. “Our end might be the same if Argrave brings an army of foreigners to this war to fish in these troubled waters.”

The two stared at each other, a battle of ideas. The room was just as undecided.