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 25.


The next morning was overcast, with a bit of mist clinging to the trees as Ayyub and Jake went downstairs for breakfast. To their surprise their parents were already seated at the inn’s dinner table. Savory smells flowed out of the kitchen and he felt his mouth starting to water. “Good morning,” he said as he poured a cup of fruit juice for Jake before pouring one for himself. “Is it a good morning?” he asked, cocking a brow at his parents.

Hannah looked tired as she sipped at her tea. Farukh smiled and swallowed a mouthful of juice before saying, “We finally got back here around midnight.”

Ayyub blinked. “Really? That explains why Alys and Lucy aren’t down yet. Should I go get them?”

“Please,” his mother said. She sniffed and added, “Katerina and her daughters are about ready.”

“Yes, Mother.” He walked out and went upstairs to his sisters’ room and cocked his ears at the door.

He could hear whispers and the occasional giggle. So, they were up, at least. He rapped on the door with his left paw. “Hey, you two. If you don’t up and get downstairs you won’t get any breakfast.” He paused and added, “And you’re already too skinny, Alys.”

There was a soft thump against the door, likely a thrown pillow. The tod grinned and went back to his breakfast.

The Broadleas had prepared wheatcakes with syrup, eggs and thick ham steaks for breakfast, along with fresh fruit. Apparently Eleanor had spoken with her sister sometime earlier in the morning. One of the condiments with the meal was a type of spicy fruit chutney, and Hannah pursed her lips as she saw her mate spooning some on his wheatcakes.

“You’re not kissing me until you clean your mouth,” she declared as the other ladies in the room tittered. She gave a mock squeal and shied away as he pantomimed jumping at her. Ayyub tried a bit of it, and tried to avoid wincing at the strong heat. It took several bites of wheatcake and half a mug of tea to damp the fire down.

“You look like you enjoy the chutney, Farukh,” Katerina said.

“It’s very tasty,” the tod said heartily. “Do you make it yourself?”

The co-owner of the inn shook her head. “We get some in at the markets from time to time. Some travelers ask for it.”

“How’d you learn to eat it?” Josef asked, suppressing a mild belch.

“Like Ayyub, I used to ride with the Yeomanry,” Farukh explained, “and I acquired a taste for achali at Tel Afon. A fellow down in Tel Ostori tried to gull me, and you should have seen the look on his face when I took a spoonful and showed no reaction. Surprised me a bit, as well.” He seemed quite pleased. His wife rolled her eyes, having obviously heard the story before. “It’s a rare treat.”

“Why?”

“I won’t have it in the house,” Hannah interjected, wrinkling her nose at the chutney’s aroma before putting the lid firmly on the jar. The others chuckled as Alys and Lucy came down the stairs and immediately held their noses.

“Phwaaw! Father!” Alys complained.

“That stuff stinks!” Lucy said, her voice comically nasal.

“Hush, both of you,” their father said. “You lot wouldn’t know good food if it slapped you. Come over here and get some breakfast.” His daughters took their seats and Farukh said to Ayyub, “After you, Isabeau and Verity left, we had a long talk with the Blunts.” He smiled at his oldest daughter. “Alys?”

She had been drinking from her teacup, and lowered it hastily. “Father?”

“I’ll let you tell everyone else what was discussed.”

“Do I have to?”

“You were part of the discussion last night,” Hannah said, “and you are a grown vixen.” Her ears flattened as Ayyub snorted into his tea. “Ayyub?”

“Mother?”

“Hush.”

Alys sat back, put her paws in her lap, and looked down at them for a long moment before looking back up at her family and the Broadleas. “Um, the familes – the Blunts, and Mother and Father – well, they were talking about me and Cheshire, um, getting to know each other.”

Ayyub nodded. “Isabeau and I thought as much.”

His mother touched his shoulder. “Hush, dear. Go on, Alys.”

She had looked up at Ayyub; the vixen lowered her eyes a bit. “Well, he’s tall, a-and good-looking . . . Mother and Mrs. Weatherwright introduced me to Mrs. Blunt after you and Isabeau were in court,” she said. “And we’ve been talking.”

“What about?” Jake asked around a mouthful of food.

“To see about her marrying Cheshire,” Lucy said in rush.

Alys blushed furiously at her sister stealing her thunder, then her ears lay back as she scowled at Jake. “What are you making that face for?”

“Won’t Ayyub have to punch him?”

She gave her older brother a glare that reminded him just a bit of the RSM at Rajjan Tor. “He’d better not. I hardly know him, Ayyub, and if anyone’s going to punch him, it’ll be me.” The others laughed, recalling how most of her earlier relationships had ended.

“Is that why you stopped me back at the mill?”

“No.” Alys’ ears dipped as she blushed. “I thought you were going to drown him, and I don’t like thinking of my brother getting in trouble over him.”

Ayyub smiled. “That’s very considerate. Thank you, Alys.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile. “It took, well, a lot of talking to persuade Cheshire to agree with it. His poor ears.”

Farukh and Hannah chuckled, and Ayyub guessed that Cheshire’s mother and father had applied a bit of physical persuasion. “So,” he asked, “can we expect the Blunts to visit?”

Farukh shook his head. “No, or at least not yet. Alys?” He gave her an encouraging nod.

“I’ll be staying with the Weatherwrights. Cheshire can’t get away, because he needs to help his father at their store.” She gave a little sigh, then stared and started to laugh at Jake.

The others turned to look and joined in with the laughter.

Jake had tried a heaping spoonful of the chutney.

After several minutes to render a bit of aid to the young kit (with an appropriate application of milk – Farukh and Katerina both esteemed it for putting out the chutney’s fire), Alys remarked, “I’ll admit that I’ll feel a bit strange being at the Weatherwright’s.”

“Why?” Hannah asked.

Her oldest daughter looked uncomfortable. Her parents waited patiently.

“It’s just that,” and she wrung her paws a bit, “I’m honored that they’re willing to put me up, but – back home I’m helping, do you know what I mean?”

Farukh nodded. “I think I do, my dear. You want to pay your way.”

She nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“You might want to get a job in Woodbridge or Owlton, or ask Mrs. Broadlea if she’ll be willing to hire you on to help here at the inn.”

“What, now?” Katerina asked as she came out of the kitchen, her fennec ears canted forward. Farukh explained, and she smiled sadly. “I’m very sorry, my dear girl, but I can’t hire you.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “I have enough paws to help.”

Alys looked disappointed, but nodded. “Thanks, Mrs. Broadlea.” She looked down at her plate and thought.