Jackal Among Snakes Chapter 353

Published at 2nd of June 2023 03:38:22 PM

Anneliese pushed open the fur flap of a traditional Veidimen tent, walking within. The first thing she saw was a wood-burning iron stove, its makeshift chimney piping smoke through a hole in the top of the circular tent. These dwellings could be constructed in thirty minutes by veteran Veidimen, and the fur padding outside and wood stove could stave off the coldest conditions. It brought back memories, and seemed far out of place in the warmth of the summer they found themselves in.

Next, her mother fell into sight: Kressa. She was short for a Veidimen, not at all like long-legged Anneliese. Even still, that placed her a little above six feet. She had bright white eyes and golden blonde hair kept at shoulder-length. She looked a little heavier than Anneliese remembered. The probable explanation for that sat in her hands—a newborn child.

“Anneliese,” Kressa said, her voice bright with genuine surprise. “I didn't think you'd come. Much less alone.”

Anneliese kept her feet firmly rooted to the ground as she replied, “Dras said you asked me to come alone.”

“Well… yes, I did. But you never listened to me in the past,” Kressa shook her head, then when the baby in her hands made a noise, soothed it quietly. “Look. Your baby sister, Rache,” she said, holding the child out slightly.

Anneliese looked at the little girl wrapped in furs. Though she had Kressa's eye and hair color, she recognized bits and pieces of her mother's husband in the facial features. She refocused on her mother and said, “I thought that Dras was talking about Jirella.”

Perhaps I set myself up for disappointment thinking that she would come, Anneliese reflected, but left those words unspoken.

“The day you left without a word was the day we found out I was pregnant with Rache,” Kressa continued. “You can't blame Jirella for being upset.”

Anneliese sighed and turned on her heel towards the entrance.

“Don't go,” her mother called out with some urgency, stepping forward. “Don't go, please. I didn't come here to fight.”

Anneliese paused and looked back. Her mother's genuine plea brought her pause, and she hesitantly stepped away from the entrance.

“It was very difficult for me to muster the courage to come here again,” Kressa said with a tremoring voice. “This place brings back only bad memories. The unending green, the people… we barely survived.”

Annelise swallowed, looking down at her mother. “Then why did you, exactly? I have some trouble understanding it.”

“Because I don't want to part,” Kressa said simply. “You're my daughter. You're my family. We can't just never speak again—that's not right.”

Anneliese stood silently, blinking as she waited for her mother to continue.

“Word of you reaches home very often,” Kressa continued, looking to her child and lightly swaying. “And look at you. You look wonderful. Apparently, Rowe the Righteous tells all those he teaches that they're drooling imbeciles compared to you. He gave my mother a real dressing down when she fought back,” she laughed.

Anneliese chuckled quietly.

“I was really glad that she got taken down a peg. I can't remember how many times she did the same to me. Ah, but… don't mistake me,” Kressa said. “I'm not here to ask you for anything, or… or take advantage of you, or anything like that. I just… I was very sad when you left. I cried enough your father thought I would miscarry.”

“My father's dead,” Anneliese shook her head.

Kressa's face tightened. “You know what I meant. My husband.”

Anneliese nodded calmly.

Kressa stared for a few moments, then said, “Dras claims you're getting married.”

“In the Veidimen way,” Anneliese nodded.

“To the king, no less,” Kressa smiled. “I remember in my time here… anyone that spoke ill of the king was hated. Everyone answers to him. But you… you're so talented, smart, beautiful… I think you're the reason he is where he is, hmm?” She smiled up at Anneliese sincerely, the spitting image of a proud mother. “Your father… your real father, he was that way, too. Even if he was living scum, he was talented.”

Anneliese crossed her arms and shifted away on her feet.

“So, do you think I can meet your husband-to-be?” Kressa pressed. “If not, perhaps you could tell me about him? We can spend the day, maybe.”

Anneliese raised a brow, minutely surprised. She slowly lowered her arms and said, “He's… his name is Argrave.”

“Argrave… definitely a name from this land,” Kressa nodded, stepping back towards the stove. “Shall we meet him? Or maybe we can sit down, talk? I'd love to hear an update from you. We can take the day to catch up!”

“I, uh…” Anneliese stepped a little more inside the tent. “I fear I cannot, today.”

“Oh, how forgetful of me,” Kressa shook her head. “Your wedding. Then, tomorrow, certainly?”

“No,” Anneliese shook her head. “Not just that. I have other things I must attend to with Argrave. I'm afraid that it's just not feasible to linger for too long.”

“When, then?” Kressa tilted her head.

“Things are very busy,” Anneliese shook her head. “Perhaps I can write, but we head off to the Bloo—”

“You can't bear to see my face, is that it?” Kressa said with a tight voice. Anneliese eyed her cautiously as her mother continued, “I fed you, clothed you, kept you safe, and you don't want to even look at me, talk to me more than a few minutes?”

Anneliese suddenly felt very exhausted, and she rubbed between her eyes to ward that away. Old patterns realigned in her head, and as they did, she remembered the best solution. “Goodbye, Kressa,” she said decisively, stepping towards the door.

“Where are you going? Don't go, Anneliese!” Kressa called out. This time Anneliese did not change course, and so she spat, “All I did for you, and you'll never show me one ounce of affection? That man, he's not your blood!”

The baby, Rache, started crying as Anneliese's steps quickened. She pushed past the tent flaps, then walked through the camp with quick steps.

#####

“It was… strange, coming home,” Galamon said. “So much has changed. So much stayed the same.” The elf took a deep breath and sighed. “Rhomaden was a tiny little bundle when I left. Could fit him in my hand. Now…” Galamon looked off to the side. “I think I'm just a big man called 'father' to him. Missed so much. So much I can never do with him.”

Argrave listened patiently but didn't know how to respond. Instead, he asked, “But Muriem… she was happy to see you, right?”

Galamon lowered his head and grinned. “…yes.”

Argrave raised his brows. “See? I told you it'd all work out.”

Galamon fixed his cold white eyes upon Argrave. “But it hasn't. It's only begun.”

“It's true,” Argrave admitted. “That's why I was hoping to get some details about what—" he trailed off as Galamon's head whipped to the side.

Anneliese pushed open the flaps to the tent and stepped in quickly. She paused when she saw Galamon and Argrave sitting together.

“We can finish another time,” Galamon said, rising from his chair. He left quickly.

Anneliese slowly walked to Argrave as he rose to his feet. She rubbed her eyes hard, looking as though she was utterly exhausted. She planted her head against his shoulder, sighing deeply.

“That bad, huh?” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

“You noticed? How empathic,” she replied drolly. “My head feels full of rocks. I struggle to keep it above my shoulders.”

Argrave put his hand on the back of her head and jostled it lightly. “Seems normal to me. Might be cement brain, though. Harder to detect.”

Anneliese laughed once, staying still. “I cannot make sense of it,” she said quietly, voice muffled. “In one moment, she acts so kind, so loving… and it is genuine, I know it. She feels these things as surely as she expresses them. The next… her tongue turns to acid. Such a hatred, just as pure as the love had been. I got out before it got as bad as it usually does, but… hah. Historically, I know it is best to avoid her. Still, afterwards… I always wonder if this time, things would have been different.”

Argrave kissed the top of her head, holding her quietly.

“It was like that when I was younger, too,” Anneliese recounted distantly. “She would cry, call me precious, hold me tight… but the inverse came just as quickly. And if I avoided her, she would say she was going to hurt herself, jump into the ocean…”

Argrave basked in the silence, then thought of something. “Is that why you hated those jokes about suicide…?”

“Yeah,” Anneliese finished.

He took a deep breath. “Damn, I'm… I'm sorry, Anne.”

“Hmm,” she grunted into his shoulder. “Maybe I was just being sensitive.”

Argrave shook his head. “Don't think that way.”

Anneliese lifted her head up and looked at him, amber eyes shining against the last light of dusk. “I like thinking that way. I saw countless people that, when faced with one tragedy, turned it into five or six by weakness of will.” She shook her head. “Self-pity does nothing for no one. No matter what comes, you cannot pity yourself.”

“Is that a lesson for me?” Argrave tilted his head.

“If you had ever truly pitied yourself, you would not have come this far,” Anneliese told him, then closed her eyes. “I think I am preaching. I apologize.”

“I like hearing the way you think,” Argrave disagreed. “But put all that nonsense with your mother behind you, Anneliese.”

“And my sister,” Anneliese pointed out. “My baby sister.”

“Your mother had another kid?” Argrave furrowed his brows, and then when Anneliese nodded he looked to the side and said, “Wow.”

“We should get ready,” Anneliese reminded him.

#####

The red moon was directly overhead, full and bright. Anneliese and Argrave sat atop a hill, peering up at the moon.

“So… we just stay out under the moonlight, and come morning, we're married? This would be kind of dangerous in Veiden, no?” Argrave asked Anneliese.

“Barring the vows, you're correct. You would think it is dangerous,” Anneliese agreed. “These joining ceremonies seldom end in harm, though, and then it's supposedly a sign of a poor match.” She looked at him. “It's quite rare for people to actually do this. Typically, the couple simply tells the chieftain or makes a public announcement. Like I said—Veidimen culture is not especially grand.”

“Vows, huh?” Argrave lied down against the grass. “I've got a lot in mind. I could make the vow to never love another woman…”

“That might make having daughters troublesome,” Anneliese reflected.

Argrave laughed. “Fair point.”

“You don't need to vow anything,” Anneliese said, and he looked at her in confusion. “I know how you feel.”

“What if I want to?” Argrave looked at her.

Anneliese stared back for a few moments. “Well, I suppose Veid would hear these vows. Then, you'd be punished if you broke them.” She looked back at the moon. “Given that Veid might be coming to this realm soon enough… perhaps it's best to keep that tongue sealed.”

“Erlebnis told us that a lot of gods are keeping their eye on us, not just Veid,” Argrave reminded her. “Hmm… if that's the case…” he laughed.

“What?” she looked at him funny.

“I vow… that if any of you godly pieces of shit hurt Anneliese, I'll personally see to your death,” Argrave declared, pointing to the sky and shooting finger-guns.

Anneliese looked extremely embarrassed and hid her face. “You are practically inviting disaster, you realize.”

Argrave laughed, then wrapped his arm around her waist. “Well, you pointed it out. That neutralizes it.”

She resisted briefly as he tried to pull her towards him, but in a moment fell atop Argrave and rested against his chest. After a moment of laughter, the two of them settled down in peace.

“Since you made a vow…” she said quietly. “I vow… that I'll make sure you and I live long and happy lives.”

Argrave smiled broadly. “You've outclassed me yet again. I think I'm gonna steal your vow, make it my own. And since we're both saying it, it's definitely going to happen.”

“You pointed it out,” Anneliese said. “That neutralizes it.”

“Ah, damn,” Argrave played along. “Quick, think of another one.”

Chapter end