Jackal Among Snakes, Book 4: A GameLit Fantasy, page 37
For the first time, Induen stepped back. Argrave held both his hands out and conjured [Pavise Gale] on either side. The two mage royal knights pushed Induen back and conjured wards in the same motion, and the gargantuan rectangle shields of wind bashed against a golden ward, sending air bouncing in all directions wildly.
A noise split the air, and a bolt of fire traveled toward Induen. It was an enchanted arrow, fired by Galamon. Induen looked liable to be struck… but he conjured his own ward almost lazily, and it bounced off.
“I brought two sets of armor here, one too big for any of those present… You think I’d gloss over the fact you had a man lurking?” Induen shouted over the ward.
“Doesn’t matter,” Argrave returned, his conjured knights still pushing and cracking the wards. “I get things done myself, as you said.”
Argrave triggered the Blessing of Supersession.
Chapter 54
Five B-rank mages versus two. It was an overwhelming disadvantage, if viewed without knowledge of who they were.
In reality… there was a reason Argrave had confidence enough to talk to Induen.
With the power of the Blessing of Supersession welling within his being, he lapsed into his strategy as though it were a habit. Four royal knights and Induen stood before him—he loosed [Pavise Gale] time and time again from his hands and Garm’s eyes both, preparing [Electric Eels] intermittently. The titanic conjured knights slammed their shields of wind into B-rank wards, chipping them away as quickly as they were placed. Argrave’s Brumesingers remained at his legs to defend him in case of stray spells. The rampant display of power left the royal knights only one option—a frantic defense. Even Induen, reckless as he was, remained safely behind their wards.
They thought to outlast him. It was standard for fighting mages—most B-rank mages could only cast just a few B-rank spells before being drained. That wasn’t an option for them, though. More and more eels joined up in the sky, sparking, waiting for an opening. Durran joined in, dropping his glaive and hacking with the Ebonice axe to aid in tearing down the wards before them. Eventually, they broke past the rightward knight’s ward, and a pavise struck the golden-armored man squarely in the shoulder. He took to the air toward Kin’s End, flying dozens of feet while half-spinning from the power of the blow. Galamon, who’d jumped down from the walls of Kin’s End, fired an arrow at this knight when he landed, yet Argrave could not tell if it hit.
Induen shouted a command, and in a few seconds the strategy shifted. The royal knights pressed forward with their wards, pushing Argrave back slightly so they could not draw near. When one ward broke, a knight pushed past with it, conjuring two blades of blood magic—the C-rank [Putrid Paramerion]. He thrust both toward Argrave as fast as Galamon might’ve. Mist warriors conjured by his Brumesingers rose to defend him.
Durran swung the Ebonice axe down before the mist warriors could do anything, catching one blade with the beard of the axe. It dissipated in seconds before the magic-breaking axe. The knight was surprised the weapon could contest his own, but all too quickly grabbed Durran’s arm with his now-free hand. The other blade stabbed toward his back.
Yet Anneliese had not been twiddling her thumbs behind them. She cast the C-rank [Skysunder], and a bolt of white lightning struck the knight squarely on the chest. Durran winced as the lightning traveled into him, but he was not as severely affected as the knight. After disentangling, Durran pushed the spasming knight away, and Argrave finally rained dozens of [Electric Eels] on the man. To finish him, Argrave cast one more [Pavise Gale]. The tower shield swung by the knight struck his foe squarely in the breastplate, caving it in and sending the knight far away from the fight.
In a moment of laxness, Induen stepped forth. A guillotine blade of ice formed before the prince far too quickly, likely conjured by an enchanted ring, and hurtled toward Argrave. Anneliese stepped beside Argrave and conjured a ward to block it, yet the spell was powerful enough to shatter the ward in one blow. Though exposed, Argrave only tried to punish Induen for his overextension. His eels in the sky came down, but Induen retreated, once again protected by B-rank wards conjured by his knights. Argrave abandoned the attack, and the eels danced gracefully backward like a splash upon the surface of water without striking the ward.
Argrave suspected the only reason his foes had not fallen was because they used enchanted items to conjure their wards—they were faster and more numerous. Even still, he trusted in the Blessing of Supersession more than their enchanted items.
Argrave resumed his unrelenting assault once more. He felt like a commander of giants and a leader of titans as the countless knights of wind assailed his foes with earth-shattering blows. He was a Roman commander amidst his Legion, each and all battering against a foe that desperately clung to safety. And above it all, like a cloud of divine judgement… his eels grew in number with every passing second.
He barely heard an ordered series of whistles. Argrave saw the knight that had been blasted toward Kin’s End running behind Induen and continuing past him, heeding that command. He would be retreating, looking for allies. It’s fine, Argrave thought. Let him run. Anneliese made sure there were no forces for miles. One of his knights is dead or dying, the other is retreating. Fewer foes to contest.
The assault was noisy and eye-catching, and the residents of Kin’s End came to the walls to watch this happen. He could not hide what was about to happen from the world. Countless pointed to the eels above Argrave, and yet more watched the relentless battering of conjured knights, blowing winds across the plains of wintry grass and disturbing the very earth.
Despite the relentlessness of Argrave’s assault… his opponent’s desperation was no less intense. Even with Durran aiding with the Ebonice axe, his foes seemed to have an unending supply of wards to block his spells. They were better equipped, without a doubt. He felt like a hammer striking down on an anvil.
As time passed, Argrave felt some urgency. Galamon rejoined them, taking the Ebonice axe from Durran and increasing the efficiency of the attack. Though strained… their foes refused to fall. He could see Induen desperately struggling to hold back the tide, both casting spells and using the enchanted items he wore on his person alongside his knights.
And then… the Blessing ended.
Great howling winds moved across the plains as the effect of the numerous [Pavise Gales] faded. Argrave stood there, his hands held out as Induen waited behind a shield of gold, breathing heavy with panic. He slowly rose to his feet, and he and Argrave locked eyes.
“Defend me,” Argrave said loudly yet evenly. It felt unnecessary, for his companions and his Brumesingers were already doing that. In time with his command, the [Electric Eels] in the skies came to blanket them, swirling about through the air. They were like divers in the midst of an ocean surrounded by a school of swimming fish. As they were umbrellaed by the eels, the place grew all the brighter. The fountain and grassy hills were illuminated by bright blue light.
Argrave held his hand out and cast a spell with his own magic. Two thick strands of blood erupted from his wrist. They took form in his hands, solidifying into a great recurve bow as tall as Argrave himself. He raised his other hand up, and an arrow took shape. He nocked the arrow for his [Bloodfeud Bow].
Induen could only wait on the other side of the ward, the thousands of [Electric Eels] swirling about around Argrave and the whole battlefield like some grim curtain of white death. He barked something—commands, questions—to his knights. He looked around panicked for any opportunity—any escape, any freedom. But escape was out of the question; Argrave would rain lightning upon them the second they were freed from the ward. As Induen looked for options, the dark red arrow on Argrave’s finger grew larger and larger. The pain kept Argrave focused.
Eventually, Argrave met Induen’s eyes. He had never seen this type of expression before. It was panic, anger, indignance, fear, all bundled so tightly together as to become another emotion altogether. The prince was tense, coiled like a rabbit ready to bolt. His eyes were pleading, almost, painted yellow by the golden wards he hid behind.
The eels swelled outward, then surged inward toward the ball of golden light protecting Induen. As they passed by Argrave, he released the arrow. The scene ahead became a great blur of power, shattered golden wards, and white light. The electric eels struck the royal knights in the hundreds, turning them into sparking beacons. Dirt and grass scattered upward and everywhere, as though a missile had struck the earth.
“If he’s not dead, cut his hands off, take his necklace,” Argrave said somberly, knowing Galamon would hear. It was not cruelty—he had to restrain Induen, for he was a spellcaster.
Galamon obeyed immediately, pushing into the great cloud of dust. Argrave could hear nothing at all. Dirt and grass peppered him from above. As the dust settled, there was a great gash in the earth ahead that extended for hundreds of feet. Induen stood at its beginning. The arrow of blood had struck the prince in the thigh, and his right leg had been severed just below his hip. He seemed to be unconscious. As Galamon ruthlessly obeyed Argrave’s orders, though, the prince awoke, screaming in agony.
Argrave stepped up to Induen, past his two dead royal knights. He was dizzy from using [Bloodfeud Bow], but compared to his first use, it was entirely manageable. Hundreds of the eels still persisted, whirling in the air around Argrave as he walked. Induen gazed up at him with eyes full of hate, pain, and fear. Argrave scanned his body for enchanted items, ensuring he was at no risk.
“Search the bodies,” Argrave commanded loudly. “Take all of their enchanted items, barring the armor—we can’t carry that. After, move to the gates of Kin’s End.”
Everyone moved to obey Argrave’s order without a word, still consumed by the rush of battle. Induen breathed heavily, his eyes fluttering as he struggled with consciousness. Death hung over him.
Argrave picked up Induen’s detached hand and began removing the rings from it, stowing it in his pocket. Induen tried to crawl backward into the crater created by the [Bloodfeud Bow], but Argrave put his foot on Induen’s chest.
“You…” Induen said, voice hoarse and pained. “You’re no… brother of mine. You were useless. A waste of life,” he tried to shout, yet it was weak. “You’re not my brother!”
Argrave cast a simple D-rank ice spell that was no more than a spike and jammed it into Induen’s eye. It penetrated deep, well beyond the eye and into the brain beyond. The prince spasmed, his body losing focus, and then he sagged back. Argrave pressed his foot against the back of the ice spike, pushing it deeper until it came out the back of his head.
With a hole the size of a fist through his brain… Induen was dead. There was no room for doubt.
Argrave removed all the enchanted rings from Induen’s hands, and then moved back to his companions. They robbed the dead as quick as they could, and then moved for the gate.
“Get the armor from Orion as fast as we can, if Induen wasn’t just lying,” Argrave said to his companions as they moved. “If people try to stop us, subdue them—don’t kill anyone.”
“Right,” Durran answered, everyone else responding similarly.
Argrave shouted warnings and assurances, and that was enough to cow the terrified crowd. They treated the four of them like calamities, doubly so because of the cloud of [Electric Eels] above Argrave. Yet the fact remained that everyone saw them, each of them. In time, this event would spread across all of Vasquer. Let it, thought Argrave. Induen is hated.
The two sets of armor were sitting on a stand within the building Induen had been staying at. Galamon’s was a set of bleak gray plate armor that shone with protective enchantments on every portion. It seemed a ridiculously thick and heavy set. After tossing aside the helmet, knowing his own was better, Galamon started putting everything on, aided by Argrave.
Durran’s was a set of lighter lamellar scale armor. It was still made of wyvern scales, to Argrave’s surprise—he had not known Durran had requested it to be as such. It looked quite formidable, gleaming every bit as intensely as Galamon’s. Durran put it on with Anneliese’s help.
“Don’t see the weapons I asked for… damn,” cursed the tribal. “Do we change our course, travel elsewhere?” Durran questioned as they armored up.
“Dozens of S-rank mages enforce the neutrality in the Tower of the Gray Owl,” Argrave said. “Felipe can’t afford making them an enemy, even for his son’s killer. If we get in before news reaches… they’ll protect us, even if dozens of mages break their oath of neutrality to earn favor with the king.” Argrave stepped to the window, looking at the tower. “So, we travel without sleep. Ride our horses ‘til they die.”
“What about getting out?” Anneliese asked. “The king will surely have the place encircled on every side—he’ll ensure there is no way for us to leave.”
“Magic,” Argrave said. “I’ll have to… curry favor with some people, Castro being the primary candidate… but others exist.”
“…Are you okay?” Anneliese asked with concern as she finished up with Durran’s armor.
He looked back at her. He was trying not to think of what he’d done. “I can figure that out later,” he said simply. “For now… let’s go. This will have consequences. I’d like to get ahead of them.”
Chapter 55
Argrave fled from Kin’s End as fast as the horses would carry them. The scouting they did was less detailed than usual in their haste—it would be more important to make it to the Tower of the Gray Owl than it would be to dodge potential ambushes, and much of the area ahead was simply a vast plain that required no scouting.
But the tower was not so far, fortunately. As they grew nearer, it loomed over their head more and more, like a great gray rod planted in the ground by the gods. Even from a great distance, Argrave could see the sparking enchantments holding such a titanic piece of architecture upright, the magic grappling with both the fast winds at high altitudes and the great weight of the tower itself.
There were stables a fair distance away from the tower. Argrave and his companions moved their horses near them, the creatures panting with exhaustion. They had very nearly ridden them to death. Once there, Argrave dismounted, legs stiff and unwieldy after the breakneck ride.
“You there,” Argrave told a stable worker. “Take care of our horses. Just remember my face, give our horses back when we leave,” he said, handing the boy five gold coins. “Five more when we return,” he promised. He didn’t know if they’d leave by horseback, though.
The boy nodded quickly, seemingly terrified of Argrave. With that, they removed their luggage from their spot atop the horses and left, heading to the entrance of the tower. Argrave felt an urge to sprint.
“Can they enter without badges?” asked Anneliese, referring to Galamon and Durran. “As I recall, these places have magical restriction for those without them.”
“First couple floors have stupidly expensive temporary lodgings, yeah. Nobility study here—some of them bring servants, retinues of knights… the Order makes money by charging hefty rent.” Argrave nodded. “Beyond those first floors, no. The restriction will kick in.”
Once Argrave’s foot met the stone of the tower… he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Christ… We made it. Most terrifying horseback ride of my life. Or maybe it was the first one,” Argrave conceded.
“What now?” questioned Galamon, directing their attention back to the important matters.
“Now…” Argrave nodded, recalling what he had planned. “Now, we head to the fourth floor, get you two registered for temporary lodging, establish the purpose of our visit. From there… I don’t know how long we’ll stay. Ideally, it’ll be a very short time. Realistically, I’m not sure how easy Castro will be able to win over. If that fails, we might have to turn to another S-rank mage for aid, which would take… I don’t know.” Argrave shook his head, exhausted.
Already, people were staring at them from their eye-catching appearance alone. Once news of Induen’s death reached here, he was sure they’d be the center of attention. He’d probably be doing no favors for his reputation in the Order of the Gray Owl by blatantly abusing their policy of neutrality, but he didn’t especially care. He’d be paying them back for this favor in time.
“Let’s go, then.” Argrave nodded, steeling himself. He felt like a lion among sheep—he’d just killed a prince, and now he was preparing himself to have a pleasant conversation with a receptionist.
Yet as he walked, he noticed someone distinctly moving toward him. At first, his frayed nerves made him interpret the action in a negative light. As the person grew closer, however, his paranoia morphed into surprise.
Elias of House Parbon approached Argrave. Argrave stared at his waxpox-scarred eye in shock, yet the heir to the Margravate of House Parbon was smiling.
“And here I thought Stain would be wasting all of our time,” Elias said. “Argrave. I…” He paused. “Your eyes. My father told me about it, but I didn’t think that… I suppose seeing is believing.”
Argrave recovered from his shock quickly. “Yeah. It seems we both had some changes on that front. What the hell are you doing here?”
Elias’ finger brushed just beneath his eye. “Don’t worry about this. I made a mistake, that’s the bottom line.” He studied Argrave’s party. “Nikoletta and Mina are both here, as well.”
“What?” Argrave’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
“We have to talk about the future,” Elias said plainly. “My father sent me here to talk to you. Nikoletta’s father, too. And Mina… It was a coincidence we met up at all.”
Argrave shifted on his feet and looked back to Anneliese. She nodded, confirming Elias’ sincerity. He crossed his arms and looked back to Elias. “I just recently had a talk about the future. It ended very poorly for the other party.”
Elias frowned, not catching Argrave’s meaning. “Is that a…?”
“No, just a stupid joke.” Argrave shook his head. “I mean… Christ, you caught me at a poor time.”
A noise split the air, and a bolt of fire traveled toward Induen. It was an enchanted arrow, fired by Galamon. Induen looked liable to be struck… but he conjured his own ward almost lazily, and it bounced off.
“I brought two sets of armor here, one too big for any of those present… You think I’d gloss over the fact you had a man lurking?” Induen shouted over the ward.
“Doesn’t matter,” Argrave returned, his conjured knights still pushing and cracking the wards. “I get things done myself, as you said.”
Argrave triggered the Blessing of Supersession.
Chapter 54
Five B-rank mages versus two. It was an overwhelming disadvantage, if viewed without knowledge of who they were.
In reality… there was a reason Argrave had confidence enough to talk to Induen.
With the power of the Blessing of Supersession welling within his being, he lapsed into his strategy as though it were a habit. Four royal knights and Induen stood before him—he loosed [Pavise Gale] time and time again from his hands and Garm’s eyes both, preparing [Electric Eels] intermittently. The titanic conjured knights slammed their shields of wind into B-rank wards, chipping them away as quickly as they were placed. Argrave’s Brumesingers remained at his legs to defend him in case of stray spells. The rampant display of power left the royal knights only one option—a frantic defense. Even Induen, reckless as he was, remained safely behind their wards.
They thought to outlast him. It was standard for fighting mages—most B-rank mages could only cast just a few B-rank spells before being drained. That wasn’t an option for them, though. More and more eels joined up in the sky, sparking, waiting for an opening. Durran joined in, dropping his glaive and hacking with the Ebonice axe to aid in tearing down the wards before them. Eventually, they broke past the rightward knight’s ward, and a pavise struck the golden-armored man squarely in the shoulder. He took to the air toward Kin’s End, flying dozens of feet while half-spinning from the power of the blow. Galamon, who’d jumped down from the walls of Kin’s End, fired an arrow at this knight when he landed, yet Argrave could not tell if it hit.
Induen shouted a command, and in a few seconds the strategy shifted. The royal knights pressed forward with their wards, pushing Argrave back slightly so they could not draw near. When one ward broke, a knight pushed past with it, conjuring two blades of blood magic—the C-rank [Putrid Paramerion]. He thrust both toward Argrave as fast as Galamon might’ve. Mist warriors conjured by his Brumesingers rose to defend him.
Durran swung the Ebonice axe down before the mist warriors could do anything, catching one blade with the beard of the axe. It dissipated in seconds before the magic-breaking axe. The knight was surprised the weapon could contest his own, but all too quickly grabbed Durran’s arm with his now-free hand. The other blade stabbed toward his back.
Yet Anneliese had not been twiddling her thumbs behind them. She cast the C-rank [Skysunder], and a bolt of white lightning struck the knight squarely on the chest. Durran winced as the lightning traveled into him, but he was not as severely affected as the knight. After disentangling, Durran pushed the spasming knight away, and Argrave finally rained dozens of [Electric Eels] on the man. To finish him, Argrave cast one more [Pavise Gale]. The tower shield swung by the knight struck his foe squarely in the breastplate, caving it in and sending the knight far away from the fight.
In a moment of laxness, Induen stepped forth. A guillotine blade of ice formed before the prince far too quickly, likely conjured by an enchanted ring, and hurtled toward Argrave. Anneliese stepped beside Argrave and conjured a ward to block it, yet the spell was powerful enough to shatter the ward in one blow. Though exposed, Argrave only tried to punish Induen for his overextension. His eels in the sky came down, but Induen retreated, once again protected by B-rank wards conjured by his knights. Argrave abandoned the attack, and the eels danced gracefully backward like a splash upon the surface of water without striking the ward.
Argrave suspected the only reason his foes had not fallen was because they used enchanted items to conjure their wards—they were faster and more numerous. Even still, he trusted in the Blessing of Supersession more than their enchanted items.
Argrave resumed his unrelenting assault once more. He felt like a commander of giants and a leader of titans as the countless knights of wind assailed his foes with earth-shattering blows. He was a Roman commander amidst his Legion, each and all battering against a foe that desperately clung to safety. And above it all, like a cloud of divine judgement… his eels grew in number with every passing second.
He barely heard an ordered series of whistles. Argrave saw the knight that had been blasted toward Kin’s End running behind Induen and continuing past him, heeding that command. He would be retreating, looking for allies. It’s fine, Argrave thought. Let him run. Anneliese made sure there were no forces for miles. One of his knights is dead or dying, the other is retreating. Fewer foes to contest.
The assault was noisy and eye-catching, and the residents of Kin’s End came to the walls to watch this happen. He could not hide what was about to happen from the world. Countless pointed to the eels above Argrave, and yet more watched the relentless battering of conjured knights, blowing winds across the plains of wintry grass and disturbing the very earth.
Despite the relentlessness of Argrave’s assault… his opponent’s desperation was no less intense. Even with Durran aiding with the Ebonice axe, his foes seemed to have an unending supply of wards to block his spells. They were better equipped, without a doubt. He felt like a hammer striking down on an anvil.
As time passed, Argrave felt some urgency. Galamon rejoined them, taking the Ebonice axe from Durran and increasing the efficiency of the attack. Though strained… their foes refused to fall. He could see Induen desperately struggling to hold back the tide, both casting spells and using the enchanted items he wore on his person alongside his knights.
And then… the Blessing ended.
Great howling winds moved across the plains as the effect of the numerous [Pavise Gales] faded. Argrave stood there, his hands held out as Induen waited behind a shield of gold, breathing heavy with panic. He slowly rose to his feet, and he and Argrave locked eyes.
“Defend me,” Argrave said loudly yet evenly. It felt unnecessary, for his companions and his Brumesingers were already doing that. In time with his command, the [Electric Eels] in the skies came to blanket them, swirling about through the air. They were like divers in the midst of an ocean surrounded by a school of swimming fish. As they were umbrellaed by the eels, the place grew all the brighter. The fountain and grassy hills were illuminated by bright blue light.
Argrave held his hand out and cast a spell with his own magic. Two thick strands of blood erupted from his wrist. They took form in his hands, solidifying into a great recurve bow as tall as Argrave himself. He raised his other hand up, and an arrow took shape. He nocked the arrow for his [Bloodfeud Bow].
Induen could only wait on the other side of the ward, the thousands of [Electric Eels] swirling about around Argrave and the whole battlefield like some grim curtain of white death. He barked something—commands, questions—to his knights. He looked around panicked for any opportunity—any escape, any freedom. But escape was out of the question; Argrave would rain lightning upon them the second they were freed from the ward. As Induen looked for options, the dark red arrow on Argrave’s finger grew larger and larger. The pain kept Argrave focused.
Eventually, Argrave met Induen’s eyes. He had never seen this type of expression before. It was panic, anger, indignance, fear, all bundled so tightly together as to become another emotion altogether. The prince was tense, coiled like a rabbit ready to bolt. His eyes were pleading, almost, painted yellow by the golden wards he hid behind.
The eels swelled outward, then surged inward toward the ball of golden light protecting Induen. As they passed by Argrave, he released the arrow. The scene ahead became a great blur of power, shattered golden wards, and white light. The electric eels struck the royal knights in the hundreds, turning them into sparking beacons. Dirt and grass scattered upward and everywhere, as though a missile had struck the earth.
“If he’s not dead, cut his hands off, take his necklace,” Argrave said somberly, knowing Galamon would hear. It was not cruelty—he had to restrain Induen, for he was a spellcaster.
Galamon obeyed immediately, pushing into the great cloud of dust. Argrave could hear nothing at all. Dirt and grass peppered him from above. As the dust settled, there was a great gash in the earth ahead that extended for hundreds of feet. Induen stood at its beginning. The arrow of blood had struck the prince in the thigh, and his right leg had been severed just below his hip. He seemed to be unconscious. As Galamon ruthlessly obeyed Argrave’s orders, though, the prince awoke, screaming in agony.
Argrave stepped up to Induen, past his two dead royal knights. He was dizzy from using [Bloodfeud Bow], but compared to his first use, it was entirely manageable. Hundreds of the eels still persisted, whirling in the air around Argrave as he walked. Induen gazed up at him with eyes full of hate, pain, and fear. Argrave scanned his body for enchanted items, ensuring he was at no risk.
“Search the bodies,” Argrave commanded loudly. “Take all of their enchanted items, barring the armor—we can’t carry that. After, move to the gates of Kin’s End.”
Everyone moved to obey Argrave’s order without a word, still consumed by the rush of battle. Induen breathed heavily, his eyes fluttering as he struggled with consciousness. Death hung over him.
Argrave picked up Induen’s detached hand and began removing the rings from it, stowing it in his pocket. Induen tried to crawl backward into the crater created by the [Bloodfeud Bow], but Argrave put his foot on Induen’s chest.
“You…” Induen said, voice hoarse and pained. “You’re no… brother of mine. You were useless. A waste of life,” he tried to shout, yet it was weak. “You’re not my brother!”
Argrave cast a simple D-rank ice spell that was no more than a spike and jammed it into Induen’s eye. It penetrated deep, well beyond the eye and into the brain beyond. The prince spasmed, his body losing focus, and then he sagged back. Argrave pressed his foot against the back of the ice spike, pushing it deeper until it came out the back of his head.
With a hole the size of a fist through his brain… Induen was dead. There was no room for doubt.
Argrave removed all the enchanted rings from Induen’s hands, and then moved back to his companions. They robbed the dead as quick as they could, and then moved for the gate.
“Get the armor from Orion as fast as we can, if Induen wasn’t just lying,” Argrave said to his companions as they moved. “If people try to stop us, subdue them—don’t kill anyone.”
“Right,” Durran answered, everyone else responding similarly.
Argrave shouted warnings and assurances, and that was enough to cow the terrified crowd. They treated the four of them like calamities, doubly so because of the cloud of [Electric Eels] above Argrave. Yet the fact remained that everyone saw them, each of them. In time, this event would spread across all of Vasquer. Let it, thought Argrave. Induen is hated.
The two sets of armor were sitting on a stand within the building Induen had been staying at. Galamon’s was a set of bleak gray plate armor that shone with protective enchantments on every portion. It seemed a ridiculously thick and heavy set. After tossing aside the helmet, knowing his own was better, Galamon started putting everything on, aided by Argrave.
Durran’s was a set of lighter lamellar scale armor. It was still made of wyvern scales, to Argrave’s surprise—he had not known Durran had requested it to be as such. It looked quite formidable, gleaming every bit as intensely as Galamon’s. Durran put it on with Anneliese’s help.
“Don’t see the weapons I asked for… damn,” cursed the tribal. “Do we change our course, travel elsewhere?” Durran questioned as they armored up.
“Dozens of S-rank mages enforce the neutrality in the Tower of the Gray Owl,” Argrave said. “Felipe can’t afford making them an enemy, even for his son’s killer. If we get in before news reaches… they’ll protect us, even if dozens of mages break their oath of neutrality to earn favor with the king.” Argrave stepped to the window, looking at the tower. “So, we travel without sleep. Ride our horses ‘til they die.”
“What about getting out?” Anneliese asked. “The king will surely have the place encircled on every side—he’ll ensure there is no way for us to leave.”
“Magic,” Argrave said. “I’ll have to… curry favor with some people, Castro being the primary candidate… but others exist.”
“…Are you okay?” Anneliese asked with concern as she finished up with Durran’s armor.
He looked back at her. He was trying not to think of what he’d done. “I can figure that out later,” he said simply. “For now… let’s go. This will have consequences. I’d like to get ahead of them.”
Chapter 55
Argrave fled from Kin’s End as fast as the horses would carry them. The scouting they did was less detailed than usual in their haste—it would be more important to make it to the Tower of the Gray Owl than it would be to dodge potential ambushes, and much of the area ahead was simply a vast plain that required no scouting.
But the tower was not so far, fortunately. As they grew nearer, it loomed over their head more and more, like a great gray rod planted in the ground by the gods. Even from a great distance, Argrave could see the sparking enchantments holding such a titanic piece of architecture upright, the magic grappling with both the fast winds at high altitudes and the great weight of the tower itself.
There were stables a fair distance away from the tower. Argrave and his companions moved their horses near them, the creatures panting with exhaustion. They had very nearly ridden them to death. Once there, Argrave dismounted, legs stiff and unwieldy after the breakneck ride.
“You there,” Argrave told a stable worker. “Take care of our horses. Just remember my face, give our horses back when we leave,” he said, handing the boy five gold coins. “Five more when we return,” he promised. He didn’t know if they’d leave by horseback, though.
The boy nodded quickly, seemingly terrified of Argrave. With that, they removed their luggage from their spot atop the horses and left, heading to the entrance of the tower. Argrave felt an urge to sprint.
“Can they enter without badges?” asked Anneliese, referring to Galamon and Durran. “As I recall, these places have magical restriction for those without them.”
“First couple floors have stupidly expensive temporary lodgings, yeah. Nobility study here—some of them bring servants, retinues of knights… the Order makes money by charging hefty rent.” Argrave nodded. “Beyond those first floors, no. The restriction will kick in.”
Once Argrave’s foot met the stone of the tower… he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Christ… We made it. Most terrifying horseback ride of my life. Or maybe it was the first one,” Argrave conceded.
“What now?” questioned Galamon, directing their attention back to the important matters.
“Now…” Argrave nodded, recalling what he had planned. “Now, we head to the fourth floor, get you two registered for temporary lodging, establish the purpose of our visit. From there… I don’t know how long we’ll stay. Ideally, it’ll be a very short time. Realistically, I’m not sure how easy Castro will be able to win over. If that fails, we might have to turn to another S-rank mage for aid, which would take… I don’t know.” Argrave shook his head, exhausted.
Already, people were staring at them from their eye-catching appearance alone. Once news of Induen’s death reached here, he was sure they’d be the center of attention. He’d probably be doing no favors for his reputation in the Order of the Gray Owl by blatantly abusing their policy of neutrality, but he didn’t especially care. He’d be paying them back for this favor in time.
“Let’s go, then.” Argrave nodded, steeling himself. He felt like a lion among sheep—he’d just killed a prince, and now he was preparing himself to have a pleasant conversation with a receptionist.
Yet as he walked, he noticed someone distinctly moving toward him. At first, his frayed nerves made him interpret the action in a negative light. As the person grew closer, however, his paranoia morphed into surprise.
Elias of House Parbon approached Argrave. Argrave stared at his waxpox-scarred eye in shock, yet the heir to the Margravate of House Parbon was smiling.
“And here I thought Stain would be wasting all of our time,” Elias said. “Argrave. I…” He paused. “Your eyes. My father told me about it, but I didn’t think that… I suppose seeing is believing.”
Argrave recovered from his shock quickly. “Yeah. It seems we both had some changes on that front. What the hell are you doing here?”
Elias’ finger brushed just beneath his eye. “Don’t worry about this. I made a mistake, that’s the bottom line.” He studied Argrave’s party. “Nikoletta and Mina are both here, as well.”
“What?” Argrave’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
“We have to talk about the future,” Elias said plainly. “My father sent me here to talk to you. Nikoletta’s father, too. And Mina… It was a coincidence we met up at all.”
Argrave shifted on his feet and looked back to Anneliese. She nodded, confirming Elias’ sincerity. He crossed his arms and looked back to Elias. “I just recently had a talk about the future. It ended very poorly for the other party.”
Elias frowned, not catching Argrave’s meaning. “Is that a…?”
“No, just a stupid joke.” Argrave shook his head. “I mean… Christ, you caught me at a poor time.”
