FA+
Shop
328
Views
Views
5
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fantasy
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 120 x 100
File Size 49.7 kB
Report this content
More from Walt46
Listed in Folders
This is a story inspired by Zandar's Saga and The Ballad of Adler Young, both by 
tegerio, and The Thin Line by 
eocostello.
It features characters and settings from my own Realm of Faerie story, Rajjan Tor.
Thumbnail taken from this sketch by the talented
xombiehamster.
The story will, over its course, feature Mature and even Adult situations, so be patient and enjoy!
_______________________________________________________________
Part Twenty-one.
The officer’s mess and conference room had seen their usual tables and chairs moved aside to the walls. The tables and the sideboard now displayed the Regimental silver service as well as trays of food and chilled bottles of spring wine. All of the Regiment’s senior officers were invited to the reception for the Viceroy, along with the four Aqhms.
Colonel Wolff gave a slight bow as he said, “We are privileged and honored by your visit, Your Highness, and – “
“Are there peaches?”
The lupine blinked at the skunk’s outburst. “Ah, er, they’re over there on the sideboard. Um, as I was saying – “ his voice trailed off as Prince Guillaume walked over to the indicated bowl and practically cackled as he seized a peach in his paws. The Colonel gamely soldiered on with his welcoming speech, his words punctuated by loud slurping and smacking sounds.
The polite applause that followed the speech was accompanied by the Viceroy licking his fingers. “Um? Oh, yes yes yes. Colonel, you and your lads should be proud of yourselves, yes. I’ve seen the dispatches and reports, naturally. Despite that – yum – ass Fenslough, you did splendidly, and saved the force from a very nasty end. Be proud of yourselves, yes.” He accepted a small glass of spring wine from his aide, and after gulping it down said, “This is my aide, Raginmar.” He nudged the feline with an elbow. “Go on, say something.”
“Gentlemen.” The officer clicked his heels. “I am Colonel Sir Raginmar Bolthole, GCOI – “
“OFA, KCSS, ADC, and all that rot,” the mephit interjected, waving a nonchalant paw. “Help yourself to the wine, lads, it’s good. You know, Raginmar, you talk too much, you do,” and the Prince started to mutter as the officers started toward the tables.
“Yes, sir,” Ayyub heard Raginmar say. “I was wondering, Your Highness, if I might have a word with you in private?”
“Again?” A querulous sigh. “Oh, very well.” The feline and the skunk slipped into Colonel Wolff’s office.
Ayyub settled for a cup of tea from the samovar and a small plate of cheese and sliced crisp apples. The Regimental Sergeant Major was the mess steward, and he nodded to the bull as he moved along the table. While sipping at his tea the fennec noted that the door to the Colonel’s office was slightly ajar, and he could hear Colonel Bolthole mumbling something.
He dipped an ear, but still couldn’t make out what the feline was saying.
The tod leaned against a wall and, as casually as he could, glanced through the small gap between the door and the jamb.
Colonel Bolthole and the Prince were standing very close together, the feline’s lips moving close to the skunk’s ear. The fingers of the aide’s right paw were resting at the back of Prince Guillaume’s neck, and Ayyub blinked.
There was a faint greenish glow at the feline’s fingertips. So faint, in fact, that at first Ayyub wasn’t even sure he was seeing it.
The tod shook his head a bit and went to get another cup of tea.
A few minutes later Ayyub stood chatting with one of the Lancer officers when he saw the Prince emerge from the office. He had a steadier gait and seemed to be a bit more, well, lucid. He accepted a cup of tea from Colonel Wolff and he stood talking with him and with Governor Longtooth. Colonel Bolthole stood nearby talking with Major Dyer.
Funny, though; the feline kept his eyes on the skunk.
The official reception lasted perhaps two hours, after which the Governor rode with the Viceroy to his residence. There was to be a dinner in the Prince’s honor that night, so Ayyub and the other three Aqhms went home to rest.
That night a selection of leading citizens and the senior Temple hierarchy arrived at the Governor’s Residence for dinner. The military leadership was invited, and the guests of honor were the Prince and Hetman Clawsand from Tel Ostori.
Ayyub sat a table with the other Yeomanry leaders and a few of Wiglaf Scritcher’s relatives. The rat looked relieved, having made his peace with those relatives he’d fought against at Tel Akom.
The number of courses, the rich foods and the wine made Ayyub a bit uncomfortable after a while. The fennec excused himself and went in search of a garderobe, finding one just in time.
As he washed his paws Colonel Bolthole came in. “Um, Colonel?” the tod asked.
“Yes, Aqhm?” the tom replied as he attended to his own needs.
“I saw something odd, at the reception earlier,” the fennec said, and added hastily, “if it’s a secret – “
“No,” and Bolthole fastened up his trousers before turning to face him. “It’s not a secret, but it’s nothing that should be bruited about. If I tell you, Aqhm, I first want your oath that you won’t repeat what I tell you.”
Elves don’t lie. “I swear by Fuma that I will not reveal what you may tell me.”
The feline nodded as he finished washing up and dried his paws on a towel. “See this?” He moved aside the ten-pointed star of the Order of Fuma Ascendant (Officer class) to show a small pin, about the size of a copper coin, which resembled an eye. “Know what this is?”
Ayyub studied the small pin, then remembered the training he’d had before being formally inducted into the Yeomanry. “You’re a magic user?”
Bolthole nodded. “It’s nothing the Army wants to make a noise about, for obvious reasons, so most Elves who practice Gramerye tend to keep it quiet.”
“I can understand that. But what – “
“The Prince is quite old, as you might guess. He started his military service as a pikeman in King Irenaeus’s last campaign.”
Ayyub’s eyes went wide. “He’s that old?!”
“Yes, and quite senile as well. Been deteriorating for the past century or so. I was his aide – well, squire and batman - when he was appointed Marshal by our present King’s father, Fuma bless him, and it’s been my job to, ah, keep things up here organized,” and he tapped the side of his head meaningfully. "It's a job of work, I can tell you," he said as he adjusted the Order Star into its accustomed position. "Sadly, I expect my efforts will be unneeded in another years' time."
“Is anything . . . um . . . wrong?” Ayyub asked.
A nod. “I expect Fuma shall gather him to Her Resplendent Bosom before the new year. There’s only so much that I or any surgeon can do, you know.”
The fennec’s ears dipped. “End of an era.”
“Oh yes, quite. I think I shall retire from the Service after his funeral,” Bolthole said with a sigh.
“Here in the District, sir?”
The feline smiled. “No, Willowhaven. I was born there. Beautiful place.” An ear flicked, and he sighed just a bit. “Duty calls.” He slipped out of the room after looking in a mirror and adjusting his tunic.
Ayyub came back into the dining room to see the Prince talking animatedly to the Abbess of the Shrine to Fuma the Ever-Fertile while the Colonel used his uniform dagger to slice up a peach for the elderly skunk.
The next day saw the fennec back at Rajjan Tor, again in his formal uniform with his sword at his hip. He was at the head of his troop, all in their best uniforms. He and the other Aqhms were on foot and stood side by side as they and the rest of the Regiment stood at ease.
The body of troops faced north as the morning sunlight warmed the sands in front of the southern gate of the city. Reviewing stands had been erected for the citizens, with a canopied stand surmounted by the Royal and Viceregal Standards for the dignitaries.
A trumpet fanfare, and Colonel Wolff stepped forward after the High Priest had invoked The Lady’s blessing. “Your Royal Highness, Governor Longtooth, Hetman, ladies and gentlemen.
“We gather here today to recall the dead, to honor the living, and set the seal upon a peace between the Southlands and the Kingdom – “
“I heard something this morning,” Samuel said quietly.
“What?” Talib asked.
“Shh,” Lt. Sanddelver hissed.
“I heard that the Viceroy went to the Shrine last night, after dinner,” the fennec said in a quieter tone.
Wiglaf grinned. “Oh really?” the rat asked skeptically.
“The Abbess invited him, so I heard.”
“What happened?” Ayyub asked, looking at the skunk up on the reviewing stand. He sat straight and looked quite alert as Colonel Wolff spoke about the sacrifices made by both sides in the abortive campaign.
“Shh,” Lt. Sanddelver said as they all politely applauded Colonel Wolff, and applauded again as Governor Longtooth began to speak.
“I heard that he and his aide didn’t get back until just before dawn,” Samuel chuckled.
“Who’d you hear this from?” Sanddelver ask, the mole rat finally unable to keep silence.
“One of my cousins is an acolyte at the Shrine,” the fennec said. “She said something about a lot of them being unable to stand.”
“Oh.”
They all applauded again as Longtooth finished his remarks, and Prince Guillaume rose and made his way to the podium. The skunk acknowledged the applause and said, “Aqhm Samuel Burrows, Aqhm Talib Proudhoof, Aqhm Wiglaf Scritcher, and Aqhm Ayyub Sharpears, step forward.”
Lt. Sanddelver led the four troop leaders forward as the Prince descended from the stand, with Colonels Wolff and Bolthole following and a member of the Cataphract appearing with a small tray.
Prince Guillaume accepted a scroll from the feline and opened it. He cleared his throat and said in a carrying tone, “The General Headquarters of the Imperial and Royal Army announce, in the name of His Majesty Adler, High King of Faerie, that in recognition for their foresight and courage in commanding the rearguard of the Regiment at Tel Troof, the award of Mention in Dispatches, with the right to wear the Honor Badge, shall be bestowed,” and he repeated the names of the four Yeomanry troop leaders. The crowd applauded and a few cheered as the skunk went down the line.
He shook paws with Ayyub before taking a small badge from the tray the armored knight held. The badge was a small square of fabric in three vertical stripes, black and white and black, with a silver likeness of the Crown in the center. Guillaume pinned it to the fennec’s tunic and gave him a scroll commemorating the award before moving on to the next man.
After the last award was given, the citizens applauded, and when it died down Guillaume gestured for another knight to come forward. The tall rodent bore a lance with a leather case over the top two feet of it. “Further, with the consent of His Majesty, the Rajjan Tor Yeomanry is honored by the bestowal of a Banner, and the right and privilege to call itself Prince Gawain’s Own Rajjan Tor Yeomanry, with the Crown Prince the Colonel-in-Chief of the unit,” and at his gesture the knight removed the case and unfurled the banner.
It was a simple flag of three horizontal stripes of green and three brown stripes, and bore the Crown worked in silver.
Cheers accompanied the Aqhms back into the line, and Prince Guillaume announced the recipients of the Honor Badge for the Regiment. One of these was Private Rogier Amaram, and as the lancer stepped forward Ayyub’s ears went up.
The morose canine already had an Honor Badge, in gold, with stars denoting that he’d been awarded a Mention in Dispatches six times previously.
After the awards, several soldiers and Lancers received promotions. Albie was promoted from Subaltern to Ensign, and when the last announcement had been made the Regimental Sergeant Major shouted, “The Regiment will prepare for Pass in Review!”
The Yeomanry and the Lancers executed a sharp right-face and marched toward the area where their ants were tethered.
tegerio, and The Thin Line by 
eocostello. It features characters and settings from my own Realm of Faerie story, Rajjan Tor.
Thumbnail taken from this sketch by the talented
xombiehamster.The story will, over its course, feature Mature and even Adult situations, so be patient and enjoy!
_______________________________________________________________
Part Twenty-one.
The officer’s mess and conference room had seen their usual tables and chairs moved aside to the walls. The tables and the sideboard now displayed the Regimental silver service as well as trays of food and chilled bottles of spring wine. All of the Regiment’s senior officers were invited to the reception for the Viceroy, along with the four Aqhms.
Colonel Wolff gave a slight bow as he said, “We are privileged and honored by your visit, Your Highness, and – “
“Are there peaches?”
The lupine blinked at the skunk’s outburst. “Ah, er, they’re over there on the sideboard. Um, as I was saying – “ his voice trailed off as Prince Guillaume walked over to the indicated bowl and practically cackled as he seized a peach in his paws. The Colonel gamely soldiered on with his welcoming speech, his words punctuated by loud slurping and smacking sounds.
The polite applause that followed the speech was accompanied by the Viceroy licking his fingers. “Um? Oh, yes yes yes. Colonel, you and your lads should be proud of yourselves, yes. I’ve seen the dispatches and reports, naturally. Despite that – yum – ass Fenslough, you did splendidly, and saved the force from a very nasty end. Be proud of yourselves, yes.” He accepted a small glass of spring wine from his aide, and after gulping it down said, “This is my aide, Raginmar.” He nudged the feline with an elbow. “Go on, say something.”
“Gentlemen.” The officer clicked his heels. “I am Colonel Sir Raginmar Bolthole, GCOI – “
“OFA, KCSS, ADC, and all that rot,” the mephit interjected, waving a nonchalant paw. “Help yourself to the wine, lads, it’s good. You know, Raginmar, you talk too much, you do,” and the Prince started to mutter as the officers started toward the tables.
“Yes, sir,” Ayyub heard Raginmar say. “I was wondering, Your Highness, if I might have a word with you in private?”
“Again?” A querulous sigh. “Oh, very well.” The feline and the skunk slipped into Colonel Wolff’s office.
Ayyub settled for a cup of tea from the samovar and a small plate of cheese and sliced crisp apples. The Regimental Sergeant Major was the mess steward, and he nodded to the bull as he moved along the table. While sipping at his tea the fennec noted that the door to the Colonel’s office was slightly ajar, and he could hear Colonel Bolthole mumbling something.
He dipped an ear, but still couldn’t make out what the feline was saying.
The tod leaned against a wall and, as casually as he could, glanced through the small gap between the door and the jamb.
Colonel Bolthole and the Prince were standing very close together, the feline’s lips moving close to the skunk’s ear. The fingers of the aide’s right paw were resting at the back of Prince Guillaume’s neck, and Ayyub blinked.
There was a faint greenish glow at the feline’s fingertips. So faint, in fact, that at first Ayyub wasn’t even sure he was seeing it.
The tod shook his head a bit and went to get another cup of tea.
A few minutes later Ayyub stood chatting with one of the Lancer officers when he saw the Prince emerge from the office. He had a steadier gait and seemed to be a bit more, well, lucid. He accepted a cup of tea from Colonel Wolff and he stood talking with him and with Governor Longtooth. Colonel Bolthole stood nearby talking with Major Dyer.
Funny, though; the feline kept his eyes on the skunk.
The official reception lasted perhaps two hours, after which the Governor rode with the Viceroy to his residence. There was to be a dinner in the Prince’s honor that night, so Ayyub and the other three Aqhms went home to rest.
That night a selection of leading citizens and the senior Temple hierarchy arrived at the Governor’s Residence for dinner. The military leadership was invited, and the guests of honor were the Prince and Hetman Clawsand from Tel Ostori.
Ayyub sat a table with the other Yeomanry leaders and a few of Wiglaf Scritcher’s relatives. The rat looked relieved, having made his peace with those relatives he’d fought against at Tel Akom.
The number of courses, the rich foods and the wine made Ayyub a bit uncomfortable after a while. The fennec excused himself and went in search of a garderobe, finding one just in time.
As he washed his paws Colonel Bolthole came in. “Um, Colonel?” the tod asked.
“Yes, Aqhm?” the tom replied as he attended to his own needs.
“I saw something odd, at the reception earlier,” the fennec said, and added hastily, “if it’s a secret – “
“No,” and Bolthole fastened up his trousers before turning to face him. “It’s not a secret, but it’s nothing that should be bruited about. If I tell you, Aqhm, I first want your oath that you won’t repeat what I tell you.”
Elves don’t lie. “I swear by Fuma that I will not reveal what you may tell me.”
The feline nodded as he finished washing up and dried his paws on a towel. “See this?” He moved aside the ten-pointed star of the Order of Fuma Ascendant (Officer class) to show a small pin, about the size of a copper coin, which resembled an eye. “Know what this is?”
Ayyub studied the small pin, then remembered the training he’d had before being formally inducted into the Yeomanry. “You’re a magic user?”
Bolthole nodded. “It’s nothing the Army wants to make a noise about, for obvious reasons, so most Elves who practice Gramerye tend to keep it quiet.”
“I can understand that. But what – “
“The Prince is quite old, as you might guess. He started his military service as a pikeman in King Irenaeus’s last campaign.”
Ayyub’s eyes went wide. “He’s that old?!”
“Yes, and quite senile as well. Been deteriorating for the past century or so. I was his aide – well, squire and batman - when he was appointed Marshal by our present King’s father, Fuma bless him, and it’s been my job to, ah, keep things up here organized,” and he tapped the side of his head meaningfully. "It's a job of work, I can tell you," he said as he adjusted the Order Star into its accustomed position. "Sadly, I expect my efforts will be unneeded in another years' time."
“Is anything . . . um . . . wrong?” Ayyub asked.
A nod. “I expect Fuma shall gather him to Her Resplendent Bosom before the new year. There’s only so much that I or any surgeon can do, you know.”
The fennec’s ears dipped. “End of an era.”
“Oh yes, quite. I think I shall retire from the Service after his funeral,” Bolthole said with a sigh.
“Here in the District, sir?”
The feline smiled. “No, Willowhaven. I was born there. Beautiful place.” An ear flicked, and he sighed just a bit. “Duty calls.” He slipped out of the room after looking in a mirror and adjusting his tunic.
Ayyub came back into the dining room to see the Prince talking animatedly to the Abbess of the Shrine to Fuma the Ever-Fertile while the Colonel used his uniform dagger to slice up a peach for the elderly skunk.
The next day saw the fennec back at Rajjan Tor, again in his formal uniform with his sword at his hip. He was at the head of his troop, all in their best uniforms. He and the other Aqhms were on foot and stood side by side as they and the rest of the Regiment stood at ease.
The body of troops faced north as the morning sunlight warmed the sands in front of the southern gate of the city. Reviewing stands had been erected for the citizens, with a canopied stand surmounted by the Royal and Viceregal Standards for the dignitaries.
A trumpet fanfare, and Colonel Wolff stepped forward after the High Priest had invoked The Lady’s blessing. “Your Royal Highness, Governor Longtooth, Hetman, ladies and gentlemen.
“We gather here today to recall the dead, to honor the living, and set the seal upon a peace between the Southlands and the Kingdom – “
“I heard something this morning,” Samuel said quietly.
“What?” Talib asked.
“Shh,” Lt. Sanddelver hissed.
“I heard that the Viceroy went to the Shrine last night, after dinner,” the fennec said in a quieter tone.
Wiglaf grinned. “Oh really?” the rat asked skeptically.
“The Abbess invited him, so I heard.”
“What happened?” Ayyub asked, looking at the skunk up on the reviewing stand. He sat straight and looked quite alert as Colonel Wolff spoke about the sacrifices made by both sides in the abortive campaign.
“Shh,” Lt. Sanddelver said as they all politely applauded Colonel Wolff, and applauded again as Governor Longtooth began to speak.
“I heard that he and his aide didn’t get back until just before dawn,” Samuel chuckled.
“Who’d you hear this from?” Sanddelver ask, the mole rat finally unable to keep silence.
“One of my cousins is an acolyte at the Shrine,” the fennec said. “She said something about a lot of them being unable to stand.”
“Oh.”
They all applauded again as Longtooth finished his remarks, and Prince Guillaume rose and made his way to the podium. The skunk acknowledged the applause and said, “Aqhm Samuel Burrows, Aqhm Talib Proudhoof, Aqhm Wiglaf Scritcher, and Aqhm Ayyub Sharpears, step forward.”
Lt. Sanddelver led the four troop leaders forward as the Prince descended from the stand, with Colonels Wolff and Bolthole following and a member of the Cataphract appearing with a small tray.
Prince Guillaume accepted a scroll from the feline and opened it. He cleared his throat and said in a carrying tone, “The General Headquarters of the Imperial and Royal Army announce, in the name of His Majesty Adler, High King of Faerie, that in recognition for their foresight and courage in commanding the rearguard of the Regiment at Tel Troof, the award of Mention in Dispatches, with the right to wear the Honor Badge, shall be bestowed,” and he repeated the names of the four Yeomanry troop leaders. The crowd applauded and a few cheered as the skunk went down the line.
He shook paws with Ayyub before taking a small badge from the tray the armored knight held. The badge was a small square of fabric in three vertical stripes, black and white and black, with a silver likeness of the Crown in the center. Guillaume pinned it to the fennec’s tunic and gave him a scroll commemorating the award before moving on to the next man.
After the last award was given, the citizens applauded, and when it died down Guillaume gestured for another knight to come forward. The tall rodent bore a lance with a leather case over the top two feet of it. “Further, with the consent of His Majesty, the Rajjan Tor Yeomanry is honored by the bestowal of a Banner, and the right and privilege to call itself Prince Gawain’s Own Rajjan Tor Yeomanry, with the Crown Prince the Colonel-in-Chief of the unit,” and at his gesture the knight removed the case and unfurled the banner.
It was a simple flag of three horizontal stripes of green and three brown stripes, and bore the Crown worked in silver.
Cheers accompanied the Aqhms back into the line, and Prince Guillaume announced the recipients of the Honor Badge for the Regiment. One of these was Private Rogier Amaram, and as the lancer stepped forward Ayyub’s ears went up.
The morose canine already had an Honor Badge, in gold, with stars denoting that he’d been awarded a Mention in Dispatches six times previously.
After the awards, several soldiers and Lancers received promotions. Albie was promoted from Subaltern to Ensign, and when the last announcement had been made the Regimental Sergeant Major shouted, “The Regiment will prepare for Pass in Review!”
The Yeomanry and the Lancers executed a sharp right-face and marched toward the area where their ants were tethered.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 120 x 100px
File Size 49.7 kB
Listed in Folders
According to the Irenaeid Annals, Adler I "the Prudent" was the eldest of two (legitimate) sons begat by Sartorius "the Dissolute." Sartorius is seldom mentioned by name - even though as a public figure he was immensely entertaining - because of his scandalous reputation, as well as the plain fact that he was a pretty lousy king. It's one of Fuma's own miracles that his two (legitimate) sons turned out to be so capable in their respective offices of High King and Grand Marshal.
Comments