This is a sequel to Mont Rose, which is a sequel to Rajjan Tor. The stories are set in  tegerio's Realm of Faerie universe, as shown in his Zandar's Saga here on FA, and The Ballad of Adler Young.

Also check out  eocostello's Realm of Faerie stories:
The Thin Line
From Whom All Blessings Flow
Personal Diplomacy
The Font of Honour
It's Only Funny Until Someone Loses Their Dignity
. . . Is In Another Castle
The Coin of the Realm
Dance, Ballerina, Dance

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Blunt Objects
© 2014 by Walter Reimer

Art by  tegerio

Part 21.


Perhaps a half hour later, Verity stepped out of her bedroom while running a brush over the fur on her ears. She paused at the sight of her niece and her beau sitting at opposite ends of her sofa. Noting the uncomfortable look they were sharing she asked, “Having an argument, are we?”

“No, Aunt Verity,” Isabeau said.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Ayyub added.

And trying not to think about what you might have been doing in there, he thought, trying desperately to avoid having her use Elf-mind on him.

The older vixen sniffed the air and glared at both of them. “You two haven’t been doing anything improper, have you?”

The two younger fennecs solemnly shook their heads.

“Why the Netherhells not?” she asked, and laughed. “Well, if you’ve been waiting for me, I expect we may be a bit late getting up to Cedric and Eleanor’s for dinner. Let’s go, shall we?” She waited for them to leave the house, then closed and locked the front door before joining them as they walked up the road.

After a few minutes Verity said, “Ayyub.”

“Ma’am?”

“I think I left a lamp burning in the front parlor.” She held out her key. “Could you go and make sure it’s out? I’d hate to come home tonight and find the place burned down.”

“It’d be very anticlimactic,” Isabeau remarked.

Ayyub smiled as he took the key. “I’ll meet you up at your parents’ house,” and he gave Isabeau a brief kiss before jogging off.

Sure enough, there was a flickering light visible from outside. Ayyub unlocked the door and stepped inside. As he moved to carefully extinguish the oil lamp, he happened to glance up.

He froze, his brush bottling out a bit.

Viktor’s wooden arm was back on the mantelpiece.

And Verity hadn’t had it with her when she came out of her bedroom.

Ayyub put out the lamp and backed out of the room, taking care to lock the front door behind him.

Isabeau and Verity paused at the porch steps as Ayyub came running up. “There wasn’t any need to run, Ayyub,” his betrothed said.

“I don’t mind,” he panted. “Needed the exercise.”

“I’m sure,” her aunt said.

He chose to ignore the sly leer on Verity’s face as he took his beloved’s arm and walked past her.

The three families – the Sharpears, the Weatherwrights and the Broadleas – were partway through their meal when ears perked at the sound of footsteps on the porch. There was a knock, and ears perked as Aelfric got up. “I’ll get it,” and he walked out of the dining room.

“Were we expecting anyone, dear?” Eleanor asked Cedric, who shook his head.

Aelfric walked back in with a slight frown on his muzzle. “Mother?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Mrs. Blunt. She says she’d like to speak with you.”

Silence descended on the dinner table. Eleanor and Hannah exchanged looks before Eleanor got up from the table, placing her napkin beside her plate. She went to the door as Aelfric resumed his seat.

After a few minutes she called out, “Hannah? Could you step out here, please?”

Ayyub’s mother wiped her muzzle with her napkin as Farukh and Cedric looked at each other. “Alys?” she asked.

“Yes, Mother,” and her daughter followed her out. The rest of the three families at the table couldn’t make out what was being said. It was too far away and low-pitched for even fennec ears to catch.

Verity looked irritated. “I can’t hear a bloody thing, even with Elf-mind.”

“Eleanor blocking you?” Katerina asked.

“Yes – and Salome, too,” she grumped, and stuck her tongue out at her sister as Katerina laughed.

“Serves you right, trying to eavesdrop,” Mrs. Broadlea said with a grin. “More potatoes?”

Verity gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, please.”

After a few minutes, Eleanor and Hannah both came back in and sat down, with Alys following suit several minutes after that.

Dessert was an apple and rhubarb trifle, and as he was eating Ayyub saw his father lean close to his wife. He swiveled his ears forward and just barely caught Farukh asking, “Suppose you tell me - ?”

“No,” his mother said. Alys was being equally close-mouthed, despite attempts from the Broadlea’s daughters and her sister Lucy to wheedle it out of her.

“Aw, come on, Alys,” Lucy whined. “You can tell me!”

“No. I promised,” she finally said, and her younger sister stopped asking. Alys took her promises seriously.

As they walked back to the Shaded Repose Inn later, Ayyub asked Isabeau, “Any guesses?”

“One or two,” the vixen replied as she held his paw, “but we have other things to think about.”

The tod nodded. “Yes, the Judge is supposed to tell us what his decision is tomorrow. I think we should say our prayers tonight, and leave it to the Lady.”

She nodded, and before going back up the lane to her family’s house they shared a lingering kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

“Of course. I love you, Isabeau.”

Another kiss, and she and her family headed up the road.

As Verity walked past him she whispered, “It’ll be all right,” and patted his cheek. The tod watched them go, wishing he felt reassured. Absently, his right fist rose and scrubbed his knuckles against the back of his head before he turned and went inside.

He took the time to read several of the passages in his copy of the Mephitist Book of Prayer before going to bed.

The Weatherwrights dropped by after breakfast around the third hour of the morning, and after a hearty meal of oatcakes drizzled with honey, fried eggs and strong tea, both families headed into Ant’s Striving to hear the judge’s decision.

The Blunts were already there. Cheshire smirked at Ayyub, then blew Isabeau a kiss that she pointedly ignored. Much to Ayyub’s surprise, however, his mother and Salome gave each other a polite hug and complimented each other on their clothes. Godefroy Blunt and his father exchanged mystified glances and shrugs at their wives’ behavior.

The town constable poked his head in. “Haven’t killed each other yet? By Fuma, I lost the pool,” he muttered, and he closed the door again. From the other side of the closed door they heard him say, “Nec mutuum accepisset nec fœneratoris esse.”

“Is that so?” they heard Judge Julius say acerbically. “Acce your pisset back out there and announce us.”

Honk.

“And you keep your witty repartee to yourself.”

The door opened again and the canine rapped his staff against the wall. “Hear ye, hear ye. The Assizes for the Town of Ant’s Striving is now in session, the Honorable Magistrate Julius Mandi-Eder presiding. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.”

Arruginito came up behind him, and the canine yelped and jumped an easy foot in the air, dropping his staff with a clatter. The red-headed canine grinned toothily at the constable and hastily retreated to the far side of the room as the duck and his other clerk entered the room.

“So I says to him, ‘Norbert, you’ll never get married like that,’” Pazzo was saying.

“With a name like Norbert, I’m not surprised,” Julius said as he sat down. “All right, all of you can sit down – not you,” he added as Arruginito tried to sit in Cheshire’s lap. “I need you over here to help me.”

“Hey, Arruginito’s a great help!” Pazzo said cheerfully. “Remember when he helped you with that ant farm?”

“It’s been seared into my nightmares,” the duck grumbled.

Seeing the manic look in Arruginito’s eyes, Ayyub thought that what happened to the ants was not something he ever wanted to know. From the look of the others, they shared the same sentiments.

“Aw, c’mon, Boss. You got to admit the queen never looked prettier.”

“To you, maybe. Now, give me the scrolls for this case.” Pazzo duly dumped a half-dozen scrolls onto the desk before him, and the duck glared at him before picking one up. “So, who’s the defendant?”

All of the parties glanced at each other. Finally Ayyub asked, “Defendant, sir?”

“Yeah. Who’s the murderer?”

The silence that descended was little short of palpable. “M-murder?” Salome Blunt quavered.

“Um, Your Honor?” the constable asked.

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t a case of murder.”

“Well, it’s certainly been killing my time. Elves have long lives, thank Fuma, but time is still a precious commodity.” He set aside the scroll in his wing and picked up another. “Ah! Here we are.“ He set aside a piece of parchment that Ayyub recognized as the betrothal contract between Isabeau and himself, and picked up another.

“Cheshire macGodefroy Blunt.”

“Huh?”

“No disputing your intelligence. Stand up, boy.” The burly tod stood.

“Isabeau nicCedric Weatherwright, and Ayyub macFarukh Sharpears.” Ayyub and Isabeau stood up, and one of his paws groped at empty air until it found hers.

“Hey, that’s romantic, ain’t it Boss?” Pazzo said, giving the judge a nudge to his shoulder.

“Don’t get any silly ideas, Pazzo,” and the judge cleared his throat. “This Court rules that the betrothal contract between Isabeau Weatherwright and Ayyub Sharpears, witnessed by an ordained Priest of Fuma, is in fact a valid agreement between the two parties. The Court also rules that the disputed nuncupative precontract of betrothal is invalid.” The duck rolled his eyes at Cheshire as the tod growled. “Heel, kid. Better luck next time. Court’s adjourned. Punch and cookies in the Fellowship Hall.” He held out the betrothal contract to Ayyub, who took it and rolled it back up.

The constable moved to strike his staff against the floor, and paused.
“What the Netherhells – what’s this?!”

“Looks like a fish,” Pazzo said.

“Honk.”

“I can’t do my job with a fish!”

“’Course you can. You were in the infantry, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but – “

“So you should know what to do with a pike.”

There was a wet slap as the families left the room and the door closed behind them.

“I suppose we should forgive him,” Godefroy said. “He’s under a lot of pressure.”

“With assistants like that, no wonder,” Farukh said. He clapped his oldest son on the shoulder. “Congratulations, son.”

It finally sank in, and Ayyub swept Isabeau up in a tight hug as she kissed him. “Not here in the street, you two,” Eleanor teased, “or you’ll frighten the ants.”

Blushing the two parted, and as they started up the road Salome said, “Don’t go yet, you two. Isabeau, your mother and I – “

There was a sudden explosion of pain just behind Ayyub’s left ear. The world spun, the ground came up awfully fast.

And everything went briefly black.