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Haste to the Wedding
© 2015 by Walter Reimer
This is a sequel to Blunt Objects, which is a sequel to Mont Rose, which is itself 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, Canto I, and Canto II.
Art by tegerio
____________________________________
14.
Isabeau stopped in mid-curtsy, teetered, and fell backward onto her brush.
Ayyub’s parents, aunts and uncles, all seemed to freeze.
Even the gronking from the ants over in the paddock area stopped.
Ayyub felt the tip of his tail hit the stone flags of the patio. “What?” he asked. At his grandmother’s glare he amended, “What, Grandmama?”
“I believe I spoke clearly,” and she crossed her arms across her chest. “What part of ‘No’ didn’t you understand, boy? Have you suddenly gone mental when confronted by a pretty face?”
Isabeau started to pick herself up, and Ayyub, startled out of his paralysis, helped her to her feet. “No, Grandmama, I haven’t. But that’s hardly an explanation for a flat ‘No.’”
“What do you expect me to say?” the old vixen said. Her tail lashed as she started to warm to her subject. “You bring this young woman here – not even in a proper dress – “
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Isabeau demanded.
“And where’s her family?” Fatima made a show of looking around. “Are they still skulking about in the mountains? Oh yes,” she said before either of the younger fennecs could object, “I heard that you’re from up in the western hills, little missy.”
“My parents let me come here a day early – “
Fatima sniffed. “I don’t think much of them, then. Leaving a nice young girl like yourself to travel alone. Roads full of footpads, most likely.”
Ayyub gave Isabeau a worried glance as her tail bottled a bit. “I came here with a Priest of Fuma,” and she hooked her arm in Ayyub’s, “the same Priest who’s going to marry the two of us.”
This failed to impress the Sharpears matriarch. “We’ll sort him out later. For now, I want to see you walk.”
Isabeau almost crested. “What?”
“Have you gone mental as well? Walk, young woman!”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to,” the aged fennec said. “Or don’t they teach respect for one’s elders up in those mountains of yours?”
The barb sank home. Isabeau stepped away from Ayyub, turned, and very deliberately walked a few paces. She then turned and walked back.
Fatima nodded. “Grandmama?” and she turned to look up at Ayyub. “What was that all about?”
“Poor girl’s lived all her life up in the mountains, Ayyub. I wanted to see if one of her legs was shorter than the other.”
Isabeau did crest then, but before she could get any farther Ayyub took her by both arms, turned her around and led her off. Behind him he could hear his parents and other relatives arguing with his grandmother. The vixen squirmed in his grasp as she tried to go back to face down the matriarch, but Ayyub kept a tight grip on her until he made it into the shade of a stand of date palms by the canal.
As soon as he released her Isabeau tried to head back to the house, but Ayyub moved to block her. “Ooh!” she finally managed to say. “Let me get my paws – “
“Isabeau – “
“After all we’ve been through – “
“Isabeau.”
“You nearly getting killed, and, and then that mess with Cheshire – “
“Isabeau!”
She stopped, huffing, and glared at him. “What?”
“Calm down.”
“I will not ‘calm down,’ Ayyub!” the vixen stormed. “I don’t care if she is your grandmother! We’ve come this far – we’re getting married in Midsummer, have you forgotten? – and I’m not going to let some old woman – Ayyub?”
“Yes, Isabeau?”
“Let go of my tail.” She had dodged to his right and had started back toward the house.
“No.”
“Ayyub.” Her tail twitched in his grasp.
“Isabeau?”
“Let. Go. Of. My. Tail.”
To her surprise, her betrothed didn’t acquiesce. “Not until you calm down and listen to me.”
She bared her teeth, ears laid back. “And if I don’t?”
The splash as she hit the water eclipsed her yelp, and spooked a flock of birds into panicky flight.
Spluttering and coughing, Isabeau broke the surface of the canal and snorted water from her nose before pulling her headfur away from her eyes and giving Ayyub a look that made him grateful she didn’t have her family’s ability to control the weather. She might have fried him with a lightning bolt. She coughed a bit more and demanded, “What was that for?”
“To cool you off. You weren’t listening to me.” He crouched down, the water lapping at the toes of his boots. “Now, are you going to listen to me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll help you out of the canal.”
She blinked.
“And then I’ll throw you in again.”
Several long moments passed, quietly save for the calls of various birds, the soft lap of water and the rustle of the breeze in palm fronds. Isabeau finally started to laugh and she took a few steps toward the bank. Ayyub stood and offered a paw to her, and she took it.
Too late, he saw the grin on her face. “What – “
She pulled backwards, tugging him off-balance and pulling him into the canal with her.
The birds, rather annoyed, took wing again.
Ayyub shook water from his ears and splashed his betrothed, who took up the challenge and splashed him back. The two threw water at each other for a few minutes before Ayyub got close to her, pulled her into a hug and kissed her. “Now, are you cooled off enough to listen to me, my love?” he asked as they broke the kiss.
Isabeau’s ears went back, then rose again as she hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re both getting on edge, Fuma knows. Midsummer is coming up fast – and you know something?” She cocked her head and he said, “It doesn’t really matter about Grandmama’s opinion of you, maiteak.”
“It doesn’t? She’s the head of your family, Ayyub.”
“I know, but you and I have a binding contract.” He brushed a bit of water-weed from her headfur. “We’re getting married, Isabeau nicCedric.”
She grinned. “We are. It’s the sweet and holy truth.”
“Damned right,” and he kissed her again. “Now, let’s get out of the canal before the fish decide to nibble on your tailfur.” She blinked at him, and he added, “Nibbling your tailfur is my job.”
Several cantrips were required to get all of the water out of their fur and clothes, and the two walked arm in arm back to the house to find that a measure of peace had descended on the gathering. “Where’s Grandmama?” Ayyub asked his father.
Farukh jerked a thumb at the house. “We managed to convince her to take a nap, but she’s probably supervising dinner,” and they cocked their ears as the sound of female laughter came from the kitchen. The menfolk were gathered under a pergola near the outdoor oven, drinking from tankards. A cask of cider crouched nearby in its cradle. “The rest of us are fortifying ourselves. Isabeau, are you all right?”
“Yes, Mister Sharpears,” the vixen replied. “Ayyub’s right. We’ve both been on edge, with the wedding coming up, and his grandmother sort of – “
“Insulted you?” Rafik asked.
“Tried to get you mad at her?” Mohan offered her a tankard of cider.
Walid chuckled. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
© 2015 by Walter Reimer
This is a sequel to Blunt Objects, which is a sequel to Mont Rose, which is itself 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, Canto I, and Canto II.Art by
tegerio____________________________________
14.
Isabeau stopped in mid-curtsy, teetered, and fell backward onto her brush.
Ayyub’s parents, aunts and uncles, all seemed to freeze.
Even the gronking from the ants over in the paddock area stopped.
Ayyub felt the tip of his tail hit the stone flags of the patio. “What?” he asked. At his grandmother’s glare he amended, “What, Grandmama?”
“I believe I spoke clearly,” and she crossed her arms across her chest. “What part of ‘No’ didn’t you understand, boy? Have you suddenly gone mental when confronted by a pretty face?”
Isabeau started to pick herself up, and Ayyub, startled out of his paralysis, helped her to her feet. “No, Grandmama, I haven’t. But that’s hardly an explanation for a flat ‘No.’”
“What do you expect me to say?” the old vixen said. Her tail lashed as she started to warm to her subject. “You bring this young woman here – not even in a proper dress – “
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Isabeau demanded.
“And where’s her family?” Fatima made a show of looking around. “Are they still skulking about in the mountains? Oh yes,” she said before either of the younger fennecs could object, “I heard that you’re from up in the western hills, little missy.”
“My parents let me come here a day early – “
Fatima sniffed. “I don’t think much of them, then. Leaving a nice young girl like yourself to travel alone. Roads full of footpads, most likely.”
Ayyub gave Isabeau a worried glance as her tail bottled a bit. “I came here with a Priest of Fuma,” and she hooked her arm in Ayyub’s, “the same Priest who’s going to marry the two of us.”
This failed to impress the Sharpears matriarch. “We’ll sort him out later. For now, I want to see you walk.”
Isabeau almost crested. “What?”
“Have you gone mental as well? Walk, young woman!”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to,” the aged fennec said. “Or don’t they teach respect for one’s elders up in those mountains of yours?”
The barb sank home. Isabeau stepped away from Ayyub, turned, and very deliberately walked a few paces. She then turned and walked back.
Fatima nodded. “Grandmama?” and she turned to look up at Ayyub. “What was that all about?”
“Poor girl’s lived all her life up in the mountains, Ayyub. I wanted to see if one of her legs was shorter than the other.”
Isabeau did crest then, but before she could get any farther Ayyub took her by both arms, turned her around and led her off. Behind him he could hear his parents and other relatives arguing with his grandmother. The vixen squirmed in his grasp as she tried to go back to face down the matriarch, but Ayyub kept a tight grip on her until he made it into the shade of a stand of date palms by the canal.
As soon as he released her Isabeau tried to head back to the house, but Ayyub moved to block her. “Ooh!” she finally managed to say. “Let me get my paws – “
“Isabeau – “
“After all we’ve been through – “
“Isabeau.”
“You nearly getting killed, and, and then that mess with Cheshire – “
“Isabeau!”
She stopped, huffing, and glared at him. “What?”
“Calm down.”
“I will not ‘calm down,’ Ayyub!” the vixen stormed. “I don’t care if she is your grandmother! We’ve come this far – we’re getting married in Midsummer, have you forgotten? – and I’m not going to let some old woman – Ayyub?”
“Yes, Isabeau?”
“Let go of my tail.” She had dodged to his right and had started back toward the house.
“No.”
“Ayyub.” Her tail twitched in his grasp.
“Isabeau?”
“Let. Go. Of. My. Tail.”
To her surprise, her betrothed didn’t acquiesce. “Not until you calm down and listen to me.”
She bared her teeth, ears laid back. “And if I don’t?”
The splash as she hit the water eclipsed her yelp, and spooked a flock of birds into panicky flight.
Spluttering and coughing, Isabeau broke the surface of the canal and snorted water from her nose before pulling her headfur away from her eyes and giving Ayyub a look that made him grateful she didn’t have her family’s ability to control the weather. She might have fried him with a lightning bolt. She coughed a bit more and demanded, “What was that for?”
“To cool you off. You weren’t listening to me.” He crouched down, the water lapping at the toes of his boots. “Now, are you going to listen to me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll help you out of the canal.”
She blinked.
“And then I’ll throw you in again.”
Several long moments passed, quietly save for the calls of various birds, the soft lap of water and the rustle of the breeze in palm fronds. Isabeau finally started to laugh and she took a few steps toward the bank. Ayyub stood and offered a paw to her, and she took it.
Too late, he saw the grin on her face. “What – “
She pulled backwards, tugging him off-balance and pulling him into the canal with her.
The birds, rather annoyed, took wing again.
Ayyub shook water from his ears and splashed his betrothed, who took up the challenge and splashed him back. The two threw water at each other for a few minutes before Ayyub got close to her, pulled her into a hug and kissed her. “Now, are you cooled off enough to listen to me, my love?” he asked as they broke the kiss.
Isabeau’s ears went back, then rose again as she hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re both getting on edge, Fuma knows. Midsummer is coming up fast – and you know something?” She cocked her head and he said, “It doesn’t really matter about Grandmama’s opinion of you, maiteak.”
“It doesn’t? She’s the head of your family, Ayyub.”
“I know, but you and I have a binding contract.” He brushed a bit of water-weed from her headfur. “We’re getting married, Isabeau nicCedric.”
She grinned. “We are. It’s the sweet and holy truth.”
“Damned right,” and he kissed her again. “Now, let’s get out of the canal before the fish decide to nibble on your tailfur.” She blinked at him, and he added, “Nibbling your tailfur is my job.”
Several cantrips were required to get all of the water out of their fur and clothes, and the two walked arm in arm back to the house to find that a measure of peace had descended on the gathering. “Where’s Grandmama?” Ayyub asked his father.
Farukh jerked a thumb at the house. “We managed to convince her to take a nap, but she’s probably supervising dinner,” and they cocked their ears as the sound of female laughter came from the kitchen. The menfolk were gathered under a pergola near the outdoor oven, drinking from tankards. A cask of cider crouched nearby in its cradle. “The rest of us are fortifying ourselves. Isabeau, are you all right?”
“Yes, Mister Sharpears,” the vixen replied. “Ayyub’s right. We’ve both been on edge, with the wedding coming up, and his grandmother sort of – “
“Insulted you?” Rafik asked.
“Tried to get you mad at her?” Mohan offered her a tankard of cider.
Walid chuckled. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 960 x 644px
File Size 64.8 kB
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