Jackal Among Snakes: Book 1, A GameLit Fantasy, page 5
“And how would you know how I behave?” Mina asked incredulously. She tapped Nikoletta’s shoulder. “Nicky, tell him he’s wrong.”
“Well… you’re not lazy, at least,” Nikoletta said half-heartedly.
At that, Mina stared at her friend as though grievously wounded. Argrave looked back out the window in an attempt to spot the small wind ferret once more, but the widlum was gone. Argrave pursed his lips briefly, then turned his head back to the book. It was a book on the fourth dimension of magic—C-rank. It was the tallest barrier before Argrave’s eyes.
Mateth would suffer a full-fledged invasion soon. Argrave intended to curb its effects so that Berendar was not further weakened. For that, he needed personal strength and influence in society. Personal strength was one matter. Influence in society—well, he knew many routes he could take. Money talks, for instance. He had some plans in mind, but a direct approach might be suitable. It was dangerous, though. Direct was always dangerous.
On top of that, though Argrave had some things to do in Mateth and the places near it, he had to devote much of his time to study. The game was vastly different from reality. In reality, one could not kill people and monsters and suddenly become an unparalleled magic caster by dumping their experience into magic skills. These things took time. He could not really afford to take breaks if he wanted to keep pace with the coming calamity. A videogame character needed neither sleep nor rest—and he had to compete against that.
Though… I suppose I haven’t exactly tried going on a killing spree to get experience, Argrave pondered. Maybe it is the same.
A peculiar noise filtered through the windows of the carriage. It was like the distant rumble of thunder. As time stretched, though, the noise did not fade—instead, it seemed to be growing louder. Argrave furrowed his brows and leaned to the opposite window, pulling back the curtain. He saw a great cloud of dust in the distant hills. Argrave could vaguely see horsemen. They carried a banner of white bearing a golden lion.
“House Parbon,” Argrave muttered.
“What?” Mina moved to the window as well, looking out. “Gods. That’s a whole host of knights.”
“You’re kidding.” Nikoletta moved to look out the window as well.
Argrave’s heart started to stir nervously. The man leading that host could only be Margrave Reinhardt, current head of House Parbon. He was Elias’ father. Following the familial chain, that meant Argrave had crippled his daughter. Argrave closed his book and rubbed his temples with his fingers. It seemed another timebomb found its way into his lap.
Damn it. I suppose I just got unlucky, and he’s passing through this area at this time. All the introduction sequences for the nine characters end after this has occurred, so the player never sees it, but the margrave heads to the capital with a host of knights to protest. I thought I gave them ample berth… I took this carriage to be sure I’d be giving them plenty of space. What went wrong?
He found the situation rather like some sort of cosmic joke. He had been trying to get ahead of the game and deal with the foreign invaders quickly, yet all he’d done was make the margrave’s host come across them.
“House Parbon are friends to House Monticci, and my father would have sent an urgent message had that changed,” Nikoletta said unconcernedly. “But I wonder what this is about.”
“Bruno of Parbon was imprisoned by King Felipe III,” Argrave explained quietly. “The margrave intends to secure his brother’s release, undoubtedly.”
Though Argrave felt his heart beating quicker, he kept his face still and his tone passive. They don’t have any reason to check this carriage. It’s just a coincidence. Nothing bad is going to happen. Argrave scooted back to the other side of the carriage and opened his book again. He found that reading was impossible when he was this stressed.
The thundering roar of the margrave’s host drew ever closer, the storm of steel and horseflesh nearing its crescendo. Nikoletta’s carriage had come to a stop, yet it continued to rattle as the earth shook.
“Ridiculous…” Mina said, grabbing onto the side of the carriage for stability. “That must be every knight in House Parbon’s territory.”
“Lady Monticci,” one of the duke’s knights said, pulling his horse beside the carriage. “The host will likely pass in front of us. They do not appear to be a threat.”
Argrave almost sighed in relief, but he kept his eye on his book as though he was unconcerned.
“Thank you, Sir Rand,” Nikoletta replied smoothly.
“One of the outriders is approaching,” Rand followed up, craning his neck. “From the armor and horse alone, it appears to be the margrave…”
Nikoletta scratched her chin, thinking. “Send a rider out to meet him. If he wishes to speak, have him come over.”
Argrave cursed in his head. He closed his book harshly, and it let out an audible pop. He set it in the empty space beside him and crossed his legs. I wonder if they would think it strange if I crawled on the floor and tried to hide.
Though Argrave had already spoken to Elias, the heir of Margrave Reinhardt, he only did so because he knew Elias would be reasonable. Margrave Reinhardt, conversely, was hotheaded and valued his family very much. He was leading a host of knights to protest his brother’s imprisonment, after all.
Argrave had little faith that Reinhardt would be merciful in the face of the one who crippled his daughter, especially when he was already experiencing friction with the royal family of Vasquer.
It was not long before a second set of hooves came trotting beside the carriage, and a great white beast of a stallion with a bright red mane entered Argrave’s view. Argrave leaned back as far as he could in the carriage, but he still saw a flash of long red hair.
Perhaps I should have walked, Argrave thought grimly.
Chapter 8
A big, gauntleted hand reached forward and rested itself on the edge of the carriage’s windows. Then, Margrave Reinhardt dismounted from his horse and stood at the side of the carriage, peering in. The margrave had red hair like his son, though it was closer to crimson and fell past his shoulders. He had a fierce face, rough but scarless, and his frightening visage was further augmented by his eyes. They were like two rings of rubies. He wore resplendent white plate mail, a red cloak hanging from his shoulders.
Margrave Reinhardt scanned the carriage with his haunting red eyes, his gaze finally locking with Argrave’s. Reinhardt’s face quickly changed from neutral to scornful as he recognized him. The two held their gazes, neither willing to turn away from the other.
“Margrave Reinhardt,” Nikoletta greeted quickly, unaware of the covert conflict between the two. “What brings you here with such a large host?”
The margrave did not look at Nikoletta. “My men and I were headed to Dirracha. I thought to pay my respects to my friend’s daughter. Seeing your company, I am questioning that decision.”
“How rude. Mina isn’t that bad,” Argrave said, holding the margrave’s gaze. He saw the golden-haired girl tense up at the mention of her name.
“I was not speaking to you, Vasquer,” Reinhardt said coldly.
“Correct; I was speaking to you. Quite the head on this one.” Argrave smiled, mustering levity to dispel his anxiety. “But you are incorrect in calling me a Vasquer. I am but a humble bastard.”
Reinhardt tilted his head down, scowl deepening as shadows danced over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Nikoletta spoke first.
“Why do you need such a large force to venture to the capital?” she said quickly, evidently hoping to divert the margrave’s attention.
Reinhardt finally looked away from Argrave, turning his head to Nikoletta. “My brother was unjustly imprisoned, his evidence of treason clearly fabricated. The king sees only steel, and so I will show him some lest he forget his place as a just ruler. And during my journey… I received a letter. It directed me here. And here…” Reinhardt’s gaze switched back to Argrave. “…who do I find but his son.”
The margrave stepped back to his horse, pulling a horn off the saddle. He blew the war horn once, and a deafening, deep noise filled the air. The thundering hooves slowed, and the carriage stopped shaking. Silence soon consumed the plains and vehicle both, the faint wind and distant huffing of horses only barely breaking the now-silent road. Argrave swallowed. He had detested that noise of galloping horses, but now it seemed quite pleasant in comparison to this eerie quiet.
“What is the meaning of this, Margrave Reinhardt?” Nikoletta maintained her posture, but Argrave could hear the nervousness in her voice.
“The Vas—the royal bastard,” Reinhardt corrected himself, stepping back beside the carriage, “He should come with me.”
“I’m a bit busy,” Argrave said dismissively.
Mina looked at him like he was mad, but Nikoletta tried to cover his words up, urgently saying, “I am not sure why you are acting this way, Margrave Reinhardt, but presently, Argrave is a guest enjoying my hospitality. In turn, he enjoys my protection.”
Argrave was taken aback by Nikoletta’s declaration. He had fully expected to be surrendered quickly. He was a bastard—protecting him meant nothing compared to earning the favor of a margrave. Reinhardt controlled a vast and wealthy territory, home to many of the nation’s mines and with near a dozen vassals sworn to him. And Argrave… well, he didn’t even own a house.
Then again, I suppose most of the main characters are good people. I shouldn’t be surprised she would defend me. Still, I’m grateful, Argrave thought, sitting up a little straighter.
“You would protect this foul cur?” Reinhardt nearly spat.
“I would,” Nikoletta answered without hesitation. “The honor of House Monticci is firm. We protect those who we say we will—no more, no less. The nature of a person is irrelevant towards that pledge.”
Reinhardt stared icily at the obsidian-haired woman. “Are you sure of this decision? That House Monticci will protect the royal bastard, Argrave?”
“He is my guest, and a host should ensure their guest’s safety. Honor demands I fulfill that pledge.” Nikoletta paused, then spoke more urgently. “House Monticci and House Parbon have been close for centuries. Will you end that for an unjust abduction?”
“My brother was ‘unjustly abducted,’ and cast into the dungeons at Dirracha,” Reinhardt rebutted. “If I can possess a card that may ensure his safe release, the relation between our houses means nothing.”
Mina leaned forward in the carriage, pressing her head closer to the window. “Not just House Monticci. I’m here, too—ninth child of Count Elgar, head of House Veden.”
“My answer remains the same no matter how many I offend. I cannot call myself a member of House Parbon if I forsake an opportunity to save my brother’s life.” Reinhardt’s cold gaze bore holes in Argrave’s head. “Better yet that it be the ignoble bastard that crippled my daughter.”
“Ignoble? Oh, yes. Start a war that kills thousands for your brother. How noble.” Argrave chuckled.
“Time wastes while my brother rots,” said the margrave, placing his hand on his sword’s pommel. “Decide how this will end.”
Nikoletta started trembling. Argrave’s own heart was pounding furiously. The time stretched out for a few seconds.
How can I make the best out of this awful hand I’ve been dealt…? Argrave thought, brain working on overdrive. He seemed to have only one choice. Perhaps it would be best if he made it, instead of having it made for him.
“Fine then, let us be off. Let it not be said that I am a ‘foul cur’ who stands in the way of justice.” Argrave pushed off the seat and reached for the carriage door. He grabbed the handle, but Nikoletta reached for his arm.
“Wai—what are you…?” she said, trying to grab his wrist. Argrave avoided her touch.
“I will go willingly,” Argrave shrugged. “If you defend me… at best, some of your knights will be foolishly injured in a futile defense. At worst, some of them will die. This incident will cause intense friction, perhaps even war, between your two houses. That sounds like a terrible outcome for all involved, and even then I still end up captured. So, I think it’s best if I pack up my bags and go.”
“But…” Mina said hesitantly.
“No, no,” Argrave said, shaking his finger at her. “It’s my choice. Place no burden on yourselves.” He grabbed the bronze hand mirror and slipped it into his breast pocket. With that, he opened the carriage door and stepped onto the roadside. His legs were quite stiff from sitting for so long, and he stretched briefly.
“Still, Nikoletta… that you would protect me despite us being essentially strangers… I won’t forget it,” Argrave said genuinely. “You are a braver person than I could ever hope to be. Thanks for the ride.”
“How can you…?” Nikoletta said, trailing off. “I’m sorry, Argrave.”
“What was it I said before? This is a problem for me, not for thee.” Argrave shook his head. “I suppose repeating that phrase is a little less compelling after I asked to travel on your carriage… Well, whatever.”
Reinhardt kept staring at Argrave. His eyes were still cold, but there was something else… disbelief, perhaps, or more optimistically some thin veneer of respect. Then, the margrave wordlessly walked to his horse, reaching into a saddlebag to retrieve a rope.
“Oh, God. Am I to be hanged, drawn, and quartered?” Argrave was able to joke easier, for he found that his anxiety was fading somewhat. The choice had been made—there would be no conflict. That alone calmed his beating heart.
The margrave held the rope out. “This is to be wrapped around your torso. I will be holding the other end. You will ride alongside me on horseback.”
“What?” Argrave frowned. “I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
“There are many hours left before nightfall,” Margrave Reinhardt said coldly. “You will learn quickly, or I will drag you.” Reinhardt walked closer with the rope, already beginning to wrap it around Argrave.
Argrave flinched away, but the margrave soon wound a length of rope beneath Argrave’s arms. “Horses are disgusting creatures. Can’t I—ow,” Argrave trailed off as the margrave tightened the rope fiercely. “Alright, take it easy.”
The margrave pulled the rope tight, and then mounted back atop his stallion, brushing its crimson mane. He led it forth in a canter, pulling Argrave along. The sight of the gaunt, tall man being led about was quite pitiful. His complaints of abusing hostages and borderline slavery slowly faded away from the carriage, leaving Nikoletta and her entourage alone on the road.
One of the margrave’s knights gave up a horse for Argrave to ride. After some fussing and fidgeting, the margrave raised his war horn to his lips once more. He blew into it twice, and then the knights set off once again, leaving a great cloud of dust and grass behind them.
***
Nikoletta opened the door to the carriage and exited, staring at the great cloud of dust slowly moving in the direction of Dirracha, the royal capital. Her mood was complicated, and that fact was etched into her face. She was glad that no blood was shed—neither Monticci nor Parbon blood. She did not wish it to be said she had been the one to start hostility between their two houses.
At the same time, it came at the expense of one person. Argrave was willing to forego his own safety, walking willingly into enemy hands, if it meant that none would get hurt. He did so all the while making stupid jokes, smirking like there wasn’t a guillotine above his head. For a brief instant back then, she had thought Argrave had orchestrated all of this to make Parbon fight Monticci… and now that he was gone, that thought made her feel immeasurably guilty.
“How can you say that I’m braver than you when you’d do something like that…?” Nikoletta muttered.
It was difficult to believe that he was of the same blood as the House of Vasquer, the family of snakes. Perhaps that was why he emphasized constantly that he was a bastard. Perhaps he meant to show that he was nothing like the royal family.
“Nicky, we should get back on the road,” Mina said, crawling through and sitting on the window. “Maybe you can talk to your father, have him intervene somehow.”
Nikoletta turned back to the carriage, tidying her black hair behind her. “I don’t know what good it would do. My father doesn’t like interfering with the affairs of the royal family.”
“Ugh,” Mina grabbed at her own hair. “If we make a lot of noise about what Argrave did for you, for us… maybe your father won’t be able to ignore it.”
“Possibly…” Nikoletta rubbed her chin, then walked towards the carriage with purpose. “I certainly won’t do nothing, not after what just happened. I owe him that much.”
“You owe him nothing,” Mina rebutted, slipping back inside the carriage. “He’s the reason this happened to begin with. This is just the right thing to do. But he’s… Maybe he’s a better person than I thought.”
Nikoletta opened the carriage door and clambered aboard. “I think you’re still chapped about him comparing you to a cat. And now that it’s just us two here, I can say that he’s completely right about that.”
“What? What is that supposed to—”
“Sir Rand,” Nikoletta interrupted. “Let’s begin moving again. Fast-paced. We need to return to Mateth immediately.”
“Right away, Lady Nikoletta.” Rand accepted the command, moving to the front of the caravan.
Nikoletta sat back down, stiffening when she sat on something hard. She reached beneath herself and pulled free a thick book. It was a book she was all-too familiar with, for she herself had been studying it recently. It was about the barrier between D- and C-rank magic. Argrave had been reading this.
I’ll be sure to return this, Nikoletta promised. Deep inside her head, Nikoletta was questioning that promise. Perhaps she would never have the chance to return the book. Someone dying on her behalf… it had happened before. She did not wish for it to happen again.
