Jackal Among Snakes: Book 1, A GameLit Fantasy, page 27
Ultimately… it’s not my concern, Argrave reflected. My duty is dealing with Gerechtigkeit while dealing with world-changing events as best I can.
“You should tell me of human society sometime,” Anneliese interrupted his thoughts. “Knights and chivalry, enchanted items, illusion magic… none exist in Veiden.”
Argrave smiled. “I certainly can.” He paused. “Although, I have to return to Berendar soon for my next task. No rest for the wicked, you know the rules.”
If Anneliese was dispirited by his answer, she did not show it, answering quickly, “I assumed as much.” She caught Argrave’s sleeve, pointing. “This way.”
Argrave changed direction to where she was pointing. She led him to a large house where a great many Veidimen warriors stood out front. When the snow elves saw him, they tensed. The effect he had as the purported ‘mortal agent of Erlebnis’ was quite astonishing. He would be sure to use this card in the future. Hopefully, he wouldn’t awake one morning to a long-armed creature admonishing him for his misuse of the title.
“The patriarch awaits inside,” one of the guards said, pushing open the door and dipping his head slightly in a show of respect.
Argrave nodded back and then proceeded where he was directed. Anneliese followed, and then the door was shut behind them. Ahead, Dras sat at a desk, holding a quill above some leathery parchment that was certainly not paper. Just as many guards stood behind Dras as there were outside.
“In walks the agent of the omniscient,” Dras greeted, setting his quill aside and leaning back in his chair.
“Erlebnis just reads frequently.” Argrave had a reply at hand quickly, feeling like his mind was sharp. “No omniscience involved. Such is the power of a well-read god.”
The patriarch chuckled. “You’ve given me the worst headache I’ve had in years. Maybe the worst headache ever, now that I think of it. I was the primary proponent of this invasion, rousing the warrior’s blood in what remained of the conquered tribes. Now, to reverse sides?” Dras tapped his temple and shook his head. “It was a sleepless night.”
“And what is the outcome? To be determined?” Argrave paused, lowering his head. “Or will I need to do something drastic?”
Dras’ white eyes locked onto Argrave. “You are awfully bold. Even the best of my warriors and mages do not speak so candidly, threatening to cause trouble in my tribe.”
“If there’s one thing I am, it’s honest,” Argrave lied, glad that Anneliese was not looking at him presently.
The patriarch clicked his tongue. “You should thank Rowe. He was so desperate to prove you wrong, he tried every method he could think of to poke a hole in what you had said. When he found that everything supported you, he threatened to have Crystal Wind eat anyone who dissented. I started to question who really led the tribe.”
“So this means…?”
“It should be obvious,” Dras said, rubbing his eyes. “The invasion will cease.”
Argrave took a deep breath and exhaled. He felt like he’d just won a tournament, or maybe a lottery. His body shook a little, but he quickly got himself under control.
“God damn,” Argrave said aloud. “The fruits of my labor have offered a savior.”
If this were a speedrun to stop the Veidimen invasion, I’d be sitting pretty with the Any% world record. Mateth stays standing. Duke Enrico lives. Nikoletta is spared losing her father.
“But…!” the patriarch tapped his desk. “As far as I’m concerned, the invasion is merely delayed in the wake of the Tenebrous Reaper, Gerechtigkeit. We will offer full support in defense of the world, when the time of his descent comes. Once that’s over… I plan on resuming things.”
“That’s more than I could ask for. Even being neutral is a great boon,” Argrave commended, pleased beyond measure.
“That said, the attack on Mateth will continue as planned. If Gerechtigkeit manifests on Berendar, as seems to be the case, it will be convenient to have the armies land at a safe port.” Dras leaned back in his chair, watching Argrave.
Argrave’s face twisted. “What? You’re still going to try to seize Mateth?”
“Yes.” Dras nodded intently. “Regardless of the outcome, the invasion will cease. I will leave things in the hand of Veid. Let Her decide if Mateth should stay in human hands or fall to the Veidimen.”
Argrave stood, mouth agape for a second. “But that’s just a pointless waste of life, both for Veiden and for the humans!”
Patriarch Dras was unmoved in the face of Argrave’s pleading reason. “As I said, Veid will dictate the outcome. And frankly, this was the only compromise the more militant chiefs would relent to. It serves as a demonstration that the choice isn’t merely cold feet. I suspect it will happen today.”
Argrave stared at Dras with brows furrowed, running the scenario in his head. As things clicked into place, he confronted an unpleasant reality.
Frankly, it would be better for me if Veiden did seize Mateth. They are my staunchest allies, and their forces are among the strongest in the game. I could use their might for future conflicts. The populace within Mateth was never badly affected by the invasion past the initial assault—many of the services and merchants would remain open to me. At worst, I lose the money from selling Foamspire.
Argrave looked to the ground, turning around. But how am I to speak to Nikoletta? To Mina? Hell, even to that German Shepherd, Elias? Even if it only has been a brief time, I want to keep those ties. Argrave paused as his thoughts took a darker turn. And that’s only if they live.
Argrave turned the gears in his head as fast as they would go, trying to come up with some way to change this outcome. He could not warn them—he had no way of doing so. He could not explain the situation, and even if he could, he could not ask Duke Enrico to abandon his city. When he asked himself how to convince Dras, his mind came up blank.
Almost instinctually, Argrave reached into his breast pocket and pulled free the bronze hand mirror. He studied it, sealing away his emotions.
What I want stopped being important months ago. I have to stop Gerechtigkeit, for my own sake just as much as the world’s. Any advantage counts.
He turned back to Patriarch Dras. “Leave it to fate, then.” He nodded slowly, stowing away the mirror once more.
“I hope you say that truly, and don’t intend to do anything drastic as you mentioned earlier,” Dras cautioned.
“No,” Argrave said decisively. “As you said, it would be a strategic advantage for the future.”
Dras looked a little surprised, but he hid that fact quickly. “Then that is all. I will promulgate this fact in the days to come, but for now, you are among the first to know. Oh, and I had a question.”
“Yes?” Argrave prompted.
“How is Galamon?” Dras leaned in.
Argrave couldn’t bring himself to smile, but he responded amicably. “He doesn’t talk about himself much, but I think he’s the same as ever. You know how he is. The strong, silent type.”
Patriarch Dras laughed knowingly. “Yes, if it’s like that, then he is well. I hope you treat him well. Despite what transpired, he is still a dear friend to me. I hope to never see him again.”
“What a bizarre arrangement of sentences,” Argrave commented. “But such is the fate of an exile. A fascinating bit of Veiden’s culture. Even the outcasts are still loved, mostly.”
“Indeed.” Dras nodded. “You’re free to roam, as I don’t think you’re a considerable threat. Rowe would probably enjoy speaking to you, even if he won’t admit it. And if you wish to, you might visit Galamon’s family. His son was too young to join the invasion, but his wife has been a tremendous help in making clothing. I am sure they would be pleased to hear of him.”
Argrave nodded. “Both of those things sound very interesting,” he said.
Truly, Argrave’s mind was on Mateth. He felt a black pit in his stomach. What he was doing was pragmatic. It would be a good thing if they lost, he told himself. But in his heart, he hoped they prevailed.
“Patriarch,” said Anneliese, stepping forth. “I had a request.”
“Certainly. I can at least hear you out, considering who you brought to me.”
She placed her hand on her heart. “I would like to travel with Argrave in order to help deal with Gerechtigkeit.”
Argrave turned his head and widened his eyes in surprise. The patriarch, too, was taken aback.
The future chief strategist of Veiden wants to come with me? Argrave dialogued internally. Well, the invasion is ceasing… she’ll have no opportunities to grow in that manner. And if she’s with me… well, I can raise her into a damned magic monster. She’s got crazy talent.
Argrave chimed in, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
He was never one to pass up an opportunity.
Chapter 38
Explosions, crackling lightning, and blades of wind collided above the sea in a grand display of power. The air around Mateth echoed with the songs of war. The sea itself seemed to have caught fire, most of Monticci’s war caravels sinking into the sea. Corpses and wreckage alike bashed against the docks and ships, carried by the churning sea. The snow elves’ longships bounced up and down on the tumultuous tide, each one filled to the brim with potent spellcasters and warriors.
Magic changed the face of siege warfare. Nikoletta’s father had taught her that, and it stuck with her. Perhaps her father’s emphasis on the power of magic was precisely why she had gone to the Order of the Gray Owl—that, and her mother had been a High Wizard of the Order. Nikoletta’s love of magic had its foundations in her own spirit, though.
In ages long since passed, before magic was as prominent and as powerful as it was today, sieges were often long and drawn out. The invaders, superhuman or no, could seldom break stone with their hands. They would build siege weapons and batter them against the walls, or more often, simply starve out the defenders. It was a cruel and tedious process, as befitted an age before chivalry and knighthood.
A throwing axe struck the stone near Nikoletta, its deafening ring drawing her back to attention. Mina slapped her shoulder and shouted, “Nicky! Don’t worry about the coast!”
Nikoletta nodded, looking back down to the invaders on the ground while crouching behind a parapet. Duke Enrico had taken command of the forces near the docks. He had asked for Nikoletta to remain here where she might be safer and helpful. That was despite her insistence that she should be alongside the spellcasters, being one herself.
Ryger commanded the troops managing the walls. Only a few mages remained on the wall’s walkways, the bulk dealing with the coastal invaders. The enemy on the ground did not have an exceptional number of mages. Many of their number had ways to counter magic; the strange material known as Ebonice that Argrave had mentioned. The elven invaders stayed far from the tall walls, not daring to try tunneling or climbing. Their javelins and axes were accurate. Many good men and women had died before Nikoletta’s eyes, head cleaved in twain by a thrown weapon.
“They’re gathering their mages together!” Ryger shouted, loud voice breaking through the din. “Mages, prepare for an assault! Focus on me,” the big man commanded, moving to a central point on the wall.
Nikoletta peaked above the parapet, being mindful of thrown projectiles. As Ryger said, the troops were bunching together, the lightly armored mages speaking amongst themselves in preparation for something. A good deal of warriors gathered together, shield and axe clenched tightly. The mages got behind them, and a great tempest began to swirl across the trampled crops.
Then, a group of Veidimen ascended into the air at a constant pace, a whirling gale beneath their feet. Nikoletta widened her eyes, taking an instinctive step away as they soared through the sky. One archer had the bearing to fire an arrow, and it struck one of the airborne snow elves, sending him spinning free of the magic lifting them. He slammed into the corner of the parapet, cracking it before tumbling down to the ground. Their magic wore off at a certain height and the remainder alighted loudly on the center of the wall. They were only five.
“These bastards are insane!” Mina shouted from beside Nikoletta, moving towards the encroaching snow elves with hands outstretched and magic matrixes forming in front of her palms.
“Wait…!” Nikoletta tried to stop Mina, but her hands grabbed air. Many defenders stepped away from the cover of the parapets, panicked by the sudden intrusion. The elven invaders outside coordinated their attack with this occurrence. Without cover, some of the defenders were snagged by thrown weapons. Nikoletta stood, recalling something Argrave had told her.
“Wind magic, for instance, utterly invalidates bows, crossbows, and other such ranged projectiles.”
She cast the D-rank [Wind Burst], and a gale surged from her fingers. The throwing weapons closest veered away wildly, all their accuracy gone. Nikoletta rushed forth, casting another spell, [Wind Wall], stopping another wave of axes and javelins tossed at their heads. With some reprieve from the relentless barrage of projectiles, Nikoletta diverted her attention back to those on the wall.
The snow elves on the walls were massive. Each was near or as tall as Argrave, yet unlike him, their frames were full and robust and covered in plate armor. The fact that they tried such a ridiculous gambit was a testament to their resolve. When the defenders rushed to confront the intruders, they proved their strength.
The first of the knights approached the Veidimen cautiously, shield held out. The vanguard of the Veidimen stepped forward decisively, swinging his axe at a perfect distance. The knight received the attack with the top of his shield, but the axe’s beard hooked onto the shield. The snow elf pulled, unbalancing the knight and jamming his round shield into the man’s face. The knight fell onto his back, and then was quickly dispatched by an axe to the head.
Though the snow elves only numbered five and were quickly surrounded, each one was a ruthless force. They jumped from opponent to opponent with military efficiency, never allowing the defenders to take advantage of their numbers. The mages had no opportunity to avoid friendly fire. Nikoletta prepared some magic, but she stopped herself. This force of five men could not hope to seize the walls alone. They were a distraction. She turned back to watch the mages.
They’re preparing to launch more!
“Mages!” Nikoletta shouted. “More of the elves are being launched over! Disengage, prepare wind magic to block them in the air!”
There was some hesitancy as the command did not come from Ryger, but the knight-commander promptly shouted, “Do as she says!” He went forth to meet the Veidimen, his greatsword held out before him. She had thought Ryger was a large man, but he seemed short and stout compared to the giant elves.
The mages came behind Nikoletta and collaborated, preparing wind magic. When more of the elves came ascending towards the walls, a great tempest rocked forth, wind blades and fell gales working in tandem. The elves held their sheening black axes out, and though the magic was dispelled, their brief wind magic countered their momentum. The elves could not make it to the top of the walls, and they slammed against the side impotently. One managed to grab the ledge, pulling herself up.
Something red flashed by Nikoletta’ peripheries, and then a woman stepped forward, kicking the elf trying to climb up with a steel plate boot. The invader fell from the wall, flailing and yelling as she dropped. The new arrival bore a giant zweihander and had a plumed tellerbarret. She peered over the side of the parapet, sword on her shoulder.
“These elves have guts. Nothing like the forest-dwellers.” The woman snickered. She turned back to Nikoletta and adjusted her hat. A chain dangled from her left hand, most of it hidden beneath frilly clothing and plate armor. “I’m Melanie. You’ll keep the flying squirrels away, right?”
“Right,” Nikoletta nodded.
“Good.” Melanie smiled, the scars on her pretty face twisting. Her red hair swayed behind her as she ran to the five on the wall. She grabbed a knight’s head and used him to launch herself in the air, twisting gracefully before slamming her blade down on one of the Veidimen. He received it with his round shield but was forced back many steps.
Ryger was locked in combat with a female elf, trying his best to maneuver his sword past her shield. His blade snaked past the top, glancing against her helmet, but she bashed him with her shield. She swung, but Ryger blocked her axe with the greatsword’s guard. He kicked her shin and then grabbed the shield, trying to force an opening.
They were deadlocked for a moment, but then Mina materialized out of thin air from behind, breaking free of an illusion spell. She held her hand to the Veidimen’s knee and cast a spell, cutting past the armor and sending the elf staggering. The snow elf lunged at Ryger, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him to the edge of the wall. Ryger’s back arched as he struggled not to fall, but the snow elf locked her leg behind him, and they both fell off the wall into the city below.
“Knight-Commander!” Nikoletta shouted vainly, looking over the edge. She could see movement, but neither stood. They were both probably wounded badly. She could not help but think of how long she’d known Ryger—since when she was young until now.
Nikoletta brushed aside her bubbling thoughts, looking back out to the elven mages. With their second wave stopped by her efforts, they did not dare to recklessly waste more lives.
On the battlements, the red-haired mercenary Melanie helped the knights regain their composure. A hook attached to a chain hung from her left hand. She whirled it about like a sling, and then sent it at one of the Veidimen. It was blocked, but the hook sunk into the wood.
The Veidimen tried to pull Melanie towards him with the hook in his shield, but she jumped, pulling herself with the chain. She flew through the air with tremendous speed. Her boots slammed into his breastplate, and he was launched into the other Veidimen. After a brief tumble, she landed atop him. She pulled the hook free of his shield and used it to slice open his throat. The mercenary did not wait to watch him die, rising to confront the three remaining.
