Jackal Among Snakes

“Do you think Gerechtigkeit is making his move?” Argrave looked up at him, despite the watching crowd. “Is Dario… someone deluded by him? Tricked?”

The Alchemist retrieved the vial of Gerechtigkeit’s essence extracted from Felipe’s corpse. “This did not react—neither upon seeing him, nor when he called upon whatever power he did. But he is beset by a foreign power, this much I can say for certain.” He looked back to the spot Dario had been standing. “It’s tearing him apart, whatever it is. He’s dying.”

“He started bleeding after he swiped at you,” Melanie reminded them. “Seems like he thinks what he’s doing is worth dying for. Also says a little about who might be standing behind him, if they’re fine allowing their power to whittle him down to dust.”

“I’ll admit…” the Alchemist looked to the senate hall. “I don’t think I can catch him. If he uses that power, I’m powerless before it.” He looked to Melanie. “Your mastery over space might falter, too. And our magic would have no effect. With that strange augmentation on his arms and legs, he would be faster and stronger than all of us. And the more he uses that power, the more he dies—we’d likely be left with a corpse at the end of it all.”

“But it seems he’s going to get in our way.” Argrave grabbed at his chin, frustrated. “He said that he has no wish to fight. There’s a big ‘yet’ that he left unspoken, I think. And I don’t want to fight him.”

Melanie nodded. “The tenor of that conversation was a bit odd. Seemed sympathetic, almost.”

“I’d agree. That’s what’s so damn bothersome about this whole thing.” He shook his head. “We don’t have much time until the senate meeting. Let’s not be late—won’t set a good precedent.”

#####

Anneliese watched as Veidimen longships glided atop the surface of the rippling waters of the eastern ocean. Slowly, they took their place at the docks to Blackgard. As they settled, there was a little unease in the dockworkers. They had grown used to Veidimen traders, yet now, true warships took their place in the city. Still, they were here as allies, not as enemies. And perhaps to prove this, Patriarch Dras was the first to step off the ships. He was followed by several hulking guards, wearing thoroughly enchanted armor. They’d wasted no time in integrating that magic into their people, it seemed.

Anneliese walked out to meet him. “Some years ago, the only reason you would have stepped off a longship to these shores was because you were their conqueror.”

“Indeed. And you would’ve been leading our armies, perhaps, in a more foolish, more senseless time.” Dras dipped his head slightly. “I think your current position suits you well.”

Anneliese brushed that off, deciding to delve into the topic at hand. “I thank you for coming. We can’t add the Veidimen to the parliament—not yet, while Argrave is still absent.”

“Absent? You seemed to employ shamanic magic to teleport ably enough.”

“In the city of the dwarves, their metal restricts spirits.” Anneliese crossed her arms. “We welcome you as guests, for now. But you’ve come at an opportune time. Elenore has received word from the distant north. We can show you our enemies.”

Patriarch Dras looked surprised. “By all means.”

Anneliese stepped forth, taking hold of his shoulder. None of the guards reacted—who would dare protest at the patriarch’s adopted daughter touching him? But then they vanished, ferried away by spirits as Anneliese cast [Worldstrider].

Their travel time was long and winding, but Anneliese had a marker. She and the patriarch appeared just beside Onychinusa, who sat on a seaside cliff buried in blankets. Her head stirred when they arrived, but then looked back to her task of watching the ocean.

Dras looked around at the sheer and icy cliffs, peering at the water below. “Where is this? Not Veiden, certainly, but it’s cold enough to be.”

“We’re at the northern edge of all Berendar. This place is cliffside rock and desolate wintry steppes. Nothing grows here, really, and we have no way of defending it adequately. The nearest settlement is many miles away—few people live here.” Anneliese walked to the edge, where the ocean raged against the rocks. “And this place’s lack of settlement is the problem. Look beyond, just near the horizon.”

Dras watched the writhing tides. “I see… square ships. They’ve a sail, and oars… but I can’t see any people.”

“They have roofs. Steel roofs,” Onychinusa commented from down below. “They have a navigator at the front, but otherwise, the whole ship is armored and enclosed. A god aids them, giving them favorable wind and alerting them of treacherous things lurking just beneath the water… glaciers, the like. But even still, that boat is meant to endure.”

“Armored boats?” Dras scratched his face. “It’s a marvel it can float. These are our enemies? The Chu, I believe you called them?”

“Yes. They’re the largest country in the world, both by population and area. And now, they’ve the backing of two very powerful gods, one of whom commands a coalition of lesser deities.” Anneliese crossed her arms and looked at Dras. “This is where we’d like to build your fortress. If you look back, there’s a long ravine—it’s a safe, sheltered pathway we can use to route supplies. But I won’t deny that holding these people back will be difficult.”

“Those ships certainly seem difficult to board.” Dras’ mind already seemed to be planning his battles. “But these are men, yes? No different from those of Vasquer? Then we can win.”

“What you see now are scouting ships. Soon after, transport ships will come, seeking to build a place of safe harbor. And when they encounter opposition, their Imperial Navy will come. Their warships dwarf your longships many times over. And they do not lack for arcane powers, either—expect spellcasters on every boat.”

Dras leaned out dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. His white eyes looked sharp and intrigued. “Yet we have the advantage of defense. And this land… it’s rather like the shores of Veiden. Icy. Treacherous. Tremendous glaciers lie just beneath the surface of the water, threatening to gut ships that lack vision.” Dras traced the distant raging waters with his finger, then nodded. “Yes. We can defend here. It will take our ships some time to arrive if the maps I have of Berendar are accurate. But the Chu will never have the opportunity to land on this soil.”

“I am glad you cooperate so readily. But a part of me wonders if I have been missing something about the why of it,” Anneliese asked, diving for the heart of what weighed at her.

“Veid has insisted I set aside glory. Though I, and other interpreters of her will, judged that her directives were about glory and supremacy for our people… we were wrong. It was not glory, but rather what is best for our people. This is what she wished.” Dras looked at her firmly. “So, I’ve set aside glory. And I do what is best for all people, now.”

“You sound very convicted.” Anneliese couldn’t keep some surprise from leaking into her tone.

“You would know best.” He looked at her. “I’ve seen enough. Come, let’s return to Blackgard. Looking at a map is dull work, but it’ll help coordinate our movement. Even if the agreement to integrate Veiden into your parliament is not made now, we can get to work on our end of the bargain immediately.”

#####

Dario barely remembered the senate meeting after he’d met with Argrave. Repelling the Alchemist’s magic and temporarily incapacitating his form had taken a great deal out of him. He’d be feeling the effects in the days that followed. In his haze, Dario had merely presented the method and recipe to forge dwarven metal to the dwarves without ceremony, and then left. He did not wish to linger overlong, lest Argrave or the Alchemist try something aggressive that might force him to worsen his condition.

It wasn’t just the senate where he couldn’t linger, either—he was best served leaving Mundi altogether. Argrave had proven himself a very persuasive person, and given the time, he would allow more to come into this place—likely Anneliese, with both the empathy bestowed by her heritage and the Truesight vested in her by Yinther, god of curiosity. He could not afford to fall under her scrutiny. It was time to leave. The dwarves would certainly allow that much of him, given the service he’d given them.

He travelled through the city, walking in the shadows of buildings and the tops of roofs. He was very certain that none saw him. Finally, he returned to the home of the senator that had graciously allowed him to stay, and entered through the window. He came to the mirror and crouched down to fit within the short dwarven furniture. He gazed at his bloodshot red eyes, pallid skin, and blood-encrusted nose.

Dario couldn’t help but feel pity for himself. He wished for nothing more than to trust Argrave—to take a break, and succumb to the heaviness of the burden crushing him. But that was a luxury that he was not afforded. He fumbled into a satchel beneath his cloak, pulled free a potion, and drank it. As the cool liquid permeated his body, he felt its mysterious alchemy work and dispel many of the ill sensations he felt. A temporary measure, he knew, but it was enough for him to tear away from the mirror.

Dario left his room. The senator, freed from the meeting, returned shortly. Dario waited for him in the living room.

“You left very quickly,” Julius noted as he walked up to greet Dario. “I’m sorry that things couldn’t go our way. But Argrave—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve helped.” Dario looked around. “I need to leave. My request?”

Julius looked sad. “Well… are you certain? You seem to grow sicker every day. Given what you’ve done for my household, I could—”

“Please,” Dario interrupted. “No more.”

Julius nodded knowingly, then beckoned Dario down into the basement of the building. There, he retrieved a large box and set it down just before his feet. Dario opened the box, and retrieved something that laid within. It was a spherical thing, with a faint black glass on the outside.

“Can I ask what these are?” Julius asked curiously. “My smith made them according to specification, but…”

“Golem cores.” Dario put the core back in the box. “Legendary golem cores, copied from my people’s prided creations, and improved with dwarven metal.”

“Golem cores?” Julius repeated incredulously. “By the gods… I’ve heard myths of golems, but there must be at least two hundred here. And all of these will be golems?”

Dario put the lid on the box, then picked it up easily. “Thank you, Julius. Goodbye.”