Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave expected to speak to the Patriarch of the Veidimen at their capital, Veiden. They teleported there using [Worldstrider]. Argrave hoped to give Galamon some time to visit with his family. Instead, he was informed that the leader of the snow elves waited at Katla, the portside city that Argrave had first made it to when negotiating with the Veidimen.

Though Argrave was disappointed he could not give one of his close friends the long family visit he deserved, he expected a trip down memory lane might do both him and Anneliese some good. Instead, what he saw was that Blackgard was not the only city that had grown significantly.

Anneliese’s talk about the Veidimen prospering from the trade was not her conjecture. Veidimen vessels were the only to take harbor in these icy waters, and with them alone the oceans were crowded and cluttered. Argrave walked about the docks with a small escort of royal guards bearing divine weapons as they awaited Dras’ arrival.

“King Argrave.” A familiar voice made Argrave turn his head, and he rested his gaze upon Patriarch Dras, flanked by his guards. He was short for a snow elf, dressed in ceremonial white clothes befitting his station, and remained with shaven head and bone white eyes. “And the year-old daughter of mine. In what capacity do you two visit? As family, or as sovereigns?”

“The latter, unfortunately.” Argrave put his hands together as he walked closer. “I have a rather serious proposition to discuss, and little time for anything else.”

“You’ve finally come to the point I have, where time is precious. The missive mentioned you wished Veid to be present as well. Then, come.”

Dras beckoned Argrave onward, leading them through the ever-growing city. The city sprawled wider, and the buildings stood taller. The practical wooden homes had been replaced with stone as though the trappings of man were soon to catch up with them. But the patriarch took them past all of that, into a large new building nestled up beside a tall hill of snow-covered rock. Argrave saw large animal skulls lined up all along it.

“I imagine this will do you little good to prepare you for what questions await...” Dras stepped closer to Argrave. Their honor guards—Argrave’s royal guards and Dras’ personal guard—seemed to be incredibly wary of each other, even though both were Veidimen. “…but Veid has very earnestly wished to speak to you, Argrave. Almost as much as her mortal champion.”

“Alright…” Argrave took little comfort in that. He didn’t think he had done anything especially interesting enough to draw the eye of the goddess of the snow elves. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I suppose, if only because it’d bother Galamon if I weren’t.”

Dras glanced at Argrave. “A little respect can go a long way. A lot of adversity can be avoided.”

“We are well familiar with the value of respect. And this relationship our nations hold is something to be respected. You would agree with this, yes, father?” Anneliese stepped up alongside him.

The word clearly brought him pause, but he accepted it resignedly. “You’re as diplomatic as any daughter I could hope to have. Should I be half as blessed when that day comes…” Dras stopped at a large stone door, and his guards moved to push it open.

They entered inside the building, and as a wide set of stairs descended five steps downward, he realized this place was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside. Veid sat in the back, in all her divine glory. Her chamber was no throne indicating superiority—she lived as her people did, in fur clothes made for warmth, with weapons made to hunt, and with white eyes that seemed to look for any opening. There were two thrones in their chamber. They were not for king and queen, but rather for god and patriarch.

The patriarch took quicker steps, walking far ahead of Argrave as his guards dispersed to stand by the walls of the room. He sat in the large throne beside Veid, and waited for them patiently. Argrave stepped up with Anneliese and Galamon at his side. His knight-commander didn’t kneel before Veid, but Argrave could almost see his knees begging to do so.

“Hello, Veid. Is this the first time we’ve talked outside the White Planes? I think it is.” Argrave smiled and dipped his head. “It must bust be complicated, this leadership situation between you and Dras.” He stood firm and straight. He liked both of those present, but as he said, he was here as king.

Veid crossed one leg over the other. “My people chose Dras as their leader. It is only by Dras’ grace that I am given this chamber.” She spoke with extreme brevity as she looked between him and Anneliese. “I have other matters I wish to speak of. You stayed my people in their duty to conquer the world. Why?”

She touched on something that Argrave would prefer to leave untouched. Still, he inhaled and answered with as brief an answer as her question. “Correct. As for why, Gerechtigkeit takes precedent.”

Veid stared in silent ponderance for a few moments. “I believe in the idea of dominion over the world under my honorable people. You believe that the conquest itself makes the government dishonorable. This, I do believe: we both want the best for our people. In this way, our perspectives are ice and water; identical in composition, but different in structure.”

Argrave found it difficult, if not impossible, to view invasion in any positive light. But he could not deny that Veid truly believed in what she said. In her world, what she did was best for her people. Argrave fiddled with the Ravenstone, then lowered his hand back to his side. It jingled as he said quietly, “I can agree with that.”

Anneliese took a firmer stance. “Supposing that one is capable of establishing this honorable government without sullying themselves… governments change as constantly as the world around them. What we establish today might not be all there is tomorrow. If I am to speak frankly, I believe an invasion is a terrible foundation for government.”

Veid did not look offended—rather, she accepted Anneliese’s words with a humble nod. Dras watched all parties involved, and spoke only when silence extended between them. “Speaking of the foundation of a government… Galamon informed me that you endeavor to create a government distributing power among different institutions that might check each other. He claimed that you create rules and regulations that themselves will stand as the protector to the people.”

“That’s our intent.” Argrave eyed his knight-commander, standing by his side. He wondered when Galamon had time to talk about such things. It was praise, so he could not be upset, but it was still a breach of information. “I’ve learned the power of the status quo. People fight very desperately to keep it. All we have to do is establish a status quo that serves the people first and foremost.”

“Not untrue.” Veid nodded understandingly. “I’ve spoken long enough. You had something to discuss with Dras?”

Argrave was somewhat puzzled. He’d been told that Veid intended to have a conversation with him, but this felt a little… short. Would their true conversation come later? Argrave couldn’t answer that, but as he lost himself in thought Anneliese spoke first.

“We do.” Anneliese stood just as firm as the goddess herself, both hands behind her back respectfully. “We’d like to discuss the terms to a deeper alliance than what we have now. To put it plainly… we need your naval support. Without it, a coming invasion may threaten us.”

Dras scratched at his cheek. “Not the first time your lack of a navy has hindered your country, is it? There’s a lesson to be learned there.” He tapped the armrest to the throne. “Let us speak of this. The broad strokes.”

#####

After a long discussion about what was plaguing the kingdom of Vasquer, Dras sent the king and queen away without an answer under the pretext of referring with his council. He and Veid sat in the audience chamber, both risen from their seat and facing one another.

“Do you have any guidance to give?” Dras spoke to her without the same sort of deference the others might’ve given her. He had to be this way, he felt, to keep his role.

“Would you rule our people without the need for glory, Dras?” Veid walked up to him. “Would you become a footnote in another’s triumph, so long as our people thrived?”

Dras felt reminded from the force of her words that she was divinity for a reason. “I have often asked myself that.”

“As have I, watching you in these years. And now, being here, I can pose that question to you.”

With a slow spin, Dras strolled to collect the answer he’d been lacking for many years. He could hear the footsteps of the god behind him. Perhaps that was metaphor, too—perhaps he’d used Veid as only a cudgel to achieve his own ambitions. But then…

He hadn’t set on this journey from a position of power. He’d been desperate, hungry, and wanted change. And when things got better, survival morphed into forging an opportunity for something better. And that opportunity spiraled until he had unified this continent. The boy he was… he did believe in Veid’s message. He had hope for his people, for their triumph, for their greatness.

Dras had faith in Veid’s vision, whether it meant glory for himself or not.

“Yes.” Dras turned back to Veid quickly. “I could.”

The goddess entwined her hands. “Then I will give you guidance. It may taste like bile, but it’s best for our people… and all people. You will not be forgotten, Dras. If you should heed my advice, you will be overshadowed. You will be a great conqueror just as you wish, and when victory finally greets you, the empire you built will become another’s. They will not honor your memory… but they will build upon what you made, even if they hate it. And they will prosper.”

“What do you mean?”

Veid smiled bitterly. “For now, my only suggestion is this: accept Argrave’s offer. Poise our people well for the repelling of the Chu. And most importantly, integrate with Argrave’s parliament. These should be our conditions.”

The patriarch crossed his arm in thought. “It is much to ask them to allow us a place in their politics. But if we would war for them, we can think for them… fine, then. I will bring this before the council. I appreciate your counsel.”

#####

While Argrave wandered the growing city of Katla in nervous anticipation for how Dras and his council might demand of their request for aid, Anneliese had grown particularly pensive. Galamon, meanwhile, had been called away to speak to Veid. Their other royal guards stood vigilant some distance away, both protecting and giving the royal couple space.

As his queen stared out across the white-blue icy ocean beside Katla, Argrave watched her instead. She was a prettier sight than the ocean, by his estimation. And he’d watched her enough to pick up on something.

“What’s bothering you?” He put his hand on her shoulder sincerely.

“Neither Dras nor Veid have wavered slightly on their ambitions.” Anneliese bit at her lip. “And worse yet, I fear that I miss something obvious. What did Veid even ask us? It seemed like nothing of substance.”

“I thought the same.” Argrave sighed deeply. “We need their navy. If they don’t request something reasonable, we just have to offer them something Dras’ council won’t be able to refuse. Still, I don’t want to do heavy-handed politicking. Feels—”

“Another dwarven envoy has entered the territory we control.” Elenore’s voice cut into his thoughts like a hot knife. “Gold-wreaths, both of them. This should please you.”

Anneliese studied his face as Argrave digested Elenore’s message. “Your sister, I presume? She spoke to you?”

“Dwarves are here,” Argrave summarized for her quickly. “And they’re worth negotiating with, this time.”

He turned his focus back to the voice in his head. “Alright. I’ll give word to Dras that we’re heading back. When they have their answer, he can talk to Galamon—we’ll leave him here for now,” Argrave told Elenore, then relayed the same to Anneliese.

“I should warn you… the first word the envoy said was a threat.” Elenore seemed tense with her quiet tone.

“Well…” Argrave cracked his knuckle. “That’s the dwarven way, no?”

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