Jackal Among Snakes

Less grand debates erupted in the senate meeting afterward—debates he was called upon to intervene in time to time to set the record straight. It had been an intensely exhausting endeavor. Still, the tally was in. The dwarven senate would pursue an alliance. More specifically, it would seek integration into the Blackgard Union as equal members. He still had to putt the ball into the hole, so to speak, but the largest hurdle was over: willingness. His idea of an embassy received mixed reactions. Some welcomed the idea, but others feared for the safety of the dwarves.

By the end of the exhausting, day-long meeting, the senate was dismissed. Another was to be held the following day, and Argrave was bid to stay near the senate hall to be called upon as an Advocate. The Alchemist spoke again, expressing annoyance that his search for Sandelabara would be delayed yet another day.

Waiting for them out front of the senate hall, Therapont stood, looking at Argrave in something of a different light.

“I expected that no king could keep from growing angry under honest scrutiny of his actions.” Therapont stroked his beard sagely.

“When anger enters, reason leaves,” Argrave flourished slightly. “I had need of reason, so I barred anger from the bounds of my mind. They’re old rivals, you might say. Thank you for your assistance at the end there.”

Therapont’s eyes opened wider. “When anger enters, reason leaves… a brilliant expression. Is it yours?”

“Hah, no.” Argrave shook his head. “If only I could claim it. I picked it up somewhere.”

“It seems like when victory enters, reason leaves as well,” Melanie commented. “To that point, I’d like to ask something of you, Therapont.” Argrave looked at her, puzzled, but did not interrupt. “We’ve earned a foothold, but it’s become very clear to us that Dario, this competitor for helping the dwarves, has a grudge against Argrave. I’d like it very much if you could heighten security. The last thing we’d want is for some kind of incident that raises tensions.”

“Very good point, Melanie,” Argrave said sincerely. “I agree enthusiastically. Considering what he’s already done, causing an incident and framing us is very reasonable. Trite, but reasonable.”

Therapont narrowed his eyes, chewing her words in his mind. He nodded after a while. “I can use some authority to heighten security. There’s no need not to be safer. But security is already on extremely high alert, given that a king, his retainer, and an abomination walk the streets. Plus, that other foreigner, Dario… and speaking of him, you said something.” He pointed at Argrave. “What has he ‘already done?’”

“Well…” Argrave hesitated. Trifon had done him a good turn in the city, and he didn’t want to sell the man out. “I don’t want heads to roll.”

“Heads? Plural?” Therapont was sharp, and he was already catching on to what Argrave barely implied. “Listen—if you’re driving at what I think you are, then let me impart a lesson about government.” He raised a fist. “Corruption is a rot. To court it is to harm yourself… or your allies.”

Argrave bit at his lips—though it irked him somewhat, he could not leave names unspoken for his new benefactor. It was the prudent thing to do. At the very least, he’d soften his words.

“Dario bribed Kostis and Trifon to sabotage their journey. They didn’t sabotage things, evidently, but he paid well for them to.” Argrave rather conveniently left out the fact that they tried very hard to sabotage things, but failed.

“Hah.” Therapont hand clenched tightly around his gray beard, drawing it down and crushing it into one thin gray rope. “Some senators fought very hard to have them, in particular, as our envoys. I figured it was a harmless move by a careerist, requested by those twins. But if this is more… their crime is not reporting that someone attempted to bribe them directly to the senate.” His mind seemed to catch on something, and he looked up at Argrave, pointing one of his thick fingers. “And you kept that secret until now, to have Trifon on your side. Very… senatorial. My son said you had a dwarven mind. That does worry me in some ways, but I still believe what you said back in the hall.”

“I’ll take that as a complement, largely.” Argrave smiled, though he didn’t mean it much inside. The man called his mind short. “But this Dario person remains an enigma. I haven’t been able to learn much about him. I don’t know where he is, or if he’s even still in the city.”

“Unless he found a way to cross the magma moat without speaking to any of the guards, he’s still here. I would’ve gotten word if the gates had been opened for any beside you and Melanie, and they haven’t.”

As Therapont spoke, Argrave received a message from Elenore, her voice ringing in his head. “Argrave, the Veidimen have agreed to the alliance. They’ll build a naval base where you wish. They ask for a great many seats in the parliament, however.”

Argrave had to stop himself from smiling when this good news graced his mind. He didn’t answer her, instead looking down at Therapont to earn some time alone. “It’s been a long time since I slept. Do you think I might turn in for the day?”

Therapont nodded. “Certainly. Tomorrow promises to be just as long as this one.”

#####

“I’m in full favor of welcoming the Veidimen to the parliament,” Argrave told Elenore. He sat on a dwarven bed. He didn’t have the occasion to use this last time, but now the necessity for sleep was catching up to him. The thing was ridiculously small. Melanie placed two beds side-by-side. Argrave simply piled sheets on the floor, and intended to sleep there. “But can you smooth all of this over with the nobility?”

“I think so. Your presence may be required. Anneliese has been performing her role as regent well, but I cannot say how well it will be taken if Anneliese welcomes Veidimen on the council while you are absent. I suspect the nobles will think it a coup. Ingrates.”

“Alright then. Agree to the Veidimen’s demands, but stall the integration, I think. Does Anne have any thoughts?” He questioned. He felt like a college student once more, talking to his family on the phone in a cramped dormitory.

“She’s satisfied with it. Though, she complained to me about having too little time together after your reunion.”

Argrave smiled, looking down at his hands. “I feel the same. Now—Dario. Have you gathered information about him?”

“As much as I could. There are four registered people by that name. Of the four, using your description, I narrowed it down to one. He wasn’t born in Vasquer—he entered city records when he was already an adult. He has many feats that can be vaguely attributed to him. He’s killed a lot of undead in recent years—many lords have paid him generously to do so. He’s said to be a master of stealth, and has the hobby of alchemy. There’s one high-profile incident I think I can link to him.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense.” Argrave tensed up, racking his brain to find out who this might be.

“The Iron Giants. Do you remember them? What am I saying—of course you do,” Elenore sighed. “You said they were big golems that needed to be neutralized, as I recall. We sent parties out to do just that. Melanie led them—it was the first mission you sent out.”

“Yeah, I did…” Argrave agreed hesitantly. “I thought that was resolved.”

“It was. The Iron Giants were stripped bare, and rendered inoperable. Gerechtigkeit cannot possess them. Only, rereading the report of my person that went with the party… they had considerable help from someone who was already there. He never gave a name, but from the description, it matches. And he had a rather peculiar description, which is why I remembered it at all. Master of stealth. Skilled alchemist. And given the description of his physical appearance… care to guess who?”

“Dario,” Argrave finished, tapping his foot against the ground as he thought. That alone was invaluable—and indeed, might explain some of the animosity. “That would explain some things. People claimed he was a master artificer, and the Iron Giants were the pinnacle of the subterranean mountain folk’s golems. Autonomous nightmares, meant to conquer but left to languish. If he came from one of the subterranean communes… it explains a lot.”

“Durran claimed he was in contact with some of their tribes,” Elenore reminded him. “I could ask him to follow up. But I think you should talk to Melanie, first.”

Argrave stroked his chin. “If Dario came from the mountain folk… if he’s an artificer of their kind… it would explain how he found the dwarves. But him being with the Iron Giants, and now him being here… awfully coincidental.” He looked to the side, where Melanie rubbed her tired eyes. “I honestly don’t know how you got all that together so quickly. You’re a legend, sis. I’m going to talk to Melanie.”

“Good luck,” Elenore said simply, and then the connection severed.

Argrave rose to walk near Melanie as she laid tiredly. She looked up at him, green eyes focused in half a second when he neared. “What? Is there more to do?”

“Do you remember that mission you got sent on? Involved some golems you needed to disassemble—Iron Giants, they were called?”

Melanie leaned up. “Yeah. That was the first mission I got sent out on. You said it was the most important, as I recall. Trusted me even then.” She gestured around. “Looks like I didn’t let you down, seeing as we’re sharing a room now.”

“Some fellow helped you back then. Never gave his name. Did you do anything to make him hate Vasquer enough to turn the dwarves against us?”

“I certainly don’t think so,” Melanie shook her head. “I mean… I’m nice. Somewhat. Not unpleasant, right?”

“Pleasant enough. But if you are pleasant, I don’t think this is the first time Dario came in close proximity to one of Vasquer’s important objectives. As a matter of fact, he might just be making a habit of it.” He focused on her closely. “Sleep can wait. What can you remember about the man that helped you?”

Melanie’s face grew grave. “You’re joking, right? What are the odds it’s the same person?”

“Between the Iron Giants and the dwarves, if we consider he might’ve been trying to sabotage us for a long time… it’s not unlikely. That task I gave you was of dire importance back then. This, too, is of dire importance,” Argrave pointed at the ground. “Now, what can you remember?”

Melanie removed her hat and tousled her hair. “Well… gods, where to begin?”