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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
________________________________
19.
The mountain that gave the town of Rajjan Tor its name was shaped somewhat like a chair, with the Temple of Fuma and its attendant Shrine on the ‘seat’ facing southwest and the garrison’s fortress on the peak. The town spread out around the inselberg, bounded by the Border on the south and the river leading to Mont Rose on the north.
Ayyub felt it as he and Albie made their way through the streets of the town. People looked nervous, with lowered ears and twitching tails. A number of merchants in the bazaar had closed up shop.
The fennec’s ears dipped as he read some of the signs on the closed shops. Their owners had come from Tel Ostori and its neighboring villages and farms. Without really noticing it, he urged Beauty to go a bit faster, and the ant responded with a gronk. Albie tapped his goad against his mount’s abdomen, and she quickened her pace to match the Aqhm’s.
The gates of the fortress were closed, but they opened to admit the two foxes. The Regiment’s sergeant-major, a huge bull, saluted as they entered. “Ensign Fuchsbau, Sah!”
“At ease, Sergeant-Major,” Albie said diffidently.
“Captain’s compliments, and ye’re to see him as soon as ye get yer ant stabled.” The sun glinted off the bull’s meticulously waxed horns as he turned his head. “Aqhm?”
“Sergeant-major.”
“Lieutenant Sanddelver’s waitin’ fer ye.” He stepped aside as the two urged their ants toward the stables. Leaving Beauty in the care of the garrison’s orderlies, Ayyub scooped up the satchel containing his weapons and equipment and headed for the Yeomanry’s orderly room.
The golden mole rat grinned as the fennec opened the door and entered. Two of the other troop leaders, Talib Proudhoof and Samuel Burrows, looked up from their tea. “Ayyub! Good to see you,” Sanddelver said. “Let me check your kit while you get some tea.”
“I’d sooner want some answers. Hello, Talib, Samuel,” and the fennec shook paws with the pair as he sat down. “Where’s Wiglaf?” he asked. Wiglaf Scritcher, a rat, was the fourth Aqhm for the Yeomanry.
Talib’s ears flicked as he nervously tapped one hoof against the floor. “Wiglaf’s at Tel Ostori.”
Ayyub cocked one ear. “With Troop B?” He glanced at Samuel, and the other fennec in the room shrugged. “Samuel?”
“Colonel Wolff’s going to fill us all in as soon as – “ The fennec tod’s ears laid back as Sanddelver accidentally dropped Ayyub’s sword while trying to sheathe it. “I think the Lieutenant owes you a round of wine.” It was an old tradition, and the three Aqhms laughed as their superior blushed. Samuel sat back, still chuckling a bit and studying the amethyst stone in the ring on his paw. “I hear your betrothed’s in town.”
Ayyub smiled. “That she is.”
“Sorry to have to pull you away from her – “
“More like off of her,” Talib interposed with a wink.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll find out what’s going on – or have you heard anything?” Ayyub’s eyes narrowed. “I noticed that some of the shops in the Bazaar are closed. Ones that come up from Tel Ostori.” He could tell from his friends’ expressions that they’d seen it as well, and were just as worried as he was.
All of their ears perked as a bell began to sound. Sanddelver passed Ayyub’s sword to him and he attached it to his belt as the mole rat said, “Let’s find out, shall we?” He led the three troop leaders from the orderly room and across the parade field to the garrison’s offices. As they walked, Ayyub glanced up at the parapets and high tower of the fortress, noting that the long-range onagers were not being manned.
Clearly, the Royal Artillery contingent wasn’t expecting trouble.
“Come in, gentlemen,” Colonel Wolff said genially, casually returning the salutes given to him. The lupine was flanked by Major Castor, in charge of the Artillery, and the cervine lieutenant that served as the adjutant. The captains who led the infantry and the Imperial Lancers had been gathered near the tea urn, and at Wolff’s gesture joined the Yeomanry leaders at the long table. “Please, help yourself to tea – ah!”
Heads turned as the door opened again and Sa’id Saq, the Army’s liaison with Governor Longtooth, entered with a tall antelope right behind him. The antelope was dressed in the robes usually found worn by the inhabitants of Tel Ostori, and he inclined his head toward the Colonel before taking a seat.
“I’m certain you’re wondering what’s going on,” Wolff began, clasping his paws together and resting them on the table, “but something has happened south of Tel Ostori. Hetman Clawsand has requested our assistance,” and his gaze flicked toward the antelope, “and the Governor has agreed, and has ordered me to cooperate fully. A message is being transmitted to GHQ to keep them informed.”
“What’s happened, Sir?” one of the infantry captains asked.
“A caravan was headed north from the Four Sisters,” Wolff replied, “guarded by a mixed detail of Yeomanry and Tel Ostori militia. Quite a substantial amount of goods.”
Ayyub cupped his chin in his maimed paw, listening intently. As he listened, he drew a map in his mind to trace the caravan’s route. If they followed the usual track, he thought, they’ll follow the river and turn north to take the shortest route through the Oven – Netherhells, wait a minute and he sat up straighter.
“The caravan was attacked, Sir?” Samuel asked.
“It was. We believe it was attacked by the same group that attacked Aqhm Sharpears’ troop several months ago.”
Talib’s tail swished. “Attacked?” he asked, looking at the antelope. When the man nodded the equine asked, “Raided?”
“No,” the antelope replied in a very deep, gravelly voice. “The caravan was massacred.”
© 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________________________________
19.
The mountain that gave the town of Rajjan Tor its name was shaped somewhat like a chair, with the Temple of Fuma and its attendant Shrine on the ‘seat’ facing southwest and the garrison’s fortress on the peak. The town spread out around the inselberg, bounded by the Border on the south and the river leading to Mont Rose on the north.
Ayyub felt it as he and Albie made their way through the streets of the town. People looked nervous, with lowered ears and twitching tails. A number of merchants in the bazaar had closed up shop.
The fennec’s ears dipped as he read some of the signs on the closed shops. Their owners had come from Tel Ostori and its neighboring villages and farms. Without really noticing it, he urged Beauty to go a bit faster, and the ant responded with a gronk. Albie tapped his goad against his mount’s abdomen, and she quickened her pace to match the Aqhm’s.
The gates of the fortress were closed, but they opened to admit the two foxes. The Regiment’s sergeant-major, a huge bull, saluted as they entered. “Ensign Fuchsbau, Sah!”
“At ease, Sergeant-Major,” Albie said diffidently.
“Captain’s compliments, and ye’re to see him as soon as ye get yer ant stabled.” The sun glinted off the bull’s meticulously waxed horns as he turned his head. “Aqhm?”
“Sergeant-major.”
“Lieutenant Sanddelver’s waitin’ fer ye.” He stepped aside as the two urged their ants toward the stables. Leaving Beauty in the care of the garrison’s orderlies, Ayyub scooped up the satchel containing his weapons and equipment and headed for the Yeomanry’s orderly room.
The golden mole rat grinned as the fennec opened the door and entered. Two of the other troop leaders, Talib Proudhoof and Samuel Burrows, looked up from their tea. “Ayyub! Good to see you,” Sanddelver said. “Let me check your kit while you get some tea.”
“I’d sooner want some answers. Hello, Talib, Samuel,” and the fennec shook paws with the pair as he sat down. “Where’s Wiglaf?” he asked. Wiglaf Scritcher, a rat, was the fourth Aqhm for the Yeomanry.
Talib’s ears flicked as he nervously tapped one hoof against the floor. “Wiglaf’s at Tel Ostori.”
Ayyub cocked one ear. “With Troop B?” He glanced at Samuel, and the other fennec in the room shrugged. “Samuel?”
“Colonel Wolff’s going to fill us all in as soon as – “ The fennec tod’s ears laid back as Sanddelver accidentally dropped Ayyub’s sword while trying to sheathe it. “I think the Lieutenant owes you a round of wine.” It was an old tradition, and the three Aqhms laughed as their superior blushed. Samuel sat back, still chuckling a bit and studying the amethyst stone in the ring on his paw. “I hear your betrothed’s in town.”
Ayyub smiled. “That she is.”
“Sorry to have to pull you away from her – “
“More like off of her,” Talib interposed with a wink.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll find out what’s going on – or have you heard anything?” Ayyub’s eyes narrowed. “I noticed that some of the shops in the Bazaar are closed. Ones that come up from Tel Ostori.” He could tell from his friends’ expressions that they’d seen it as well, and were just as worried as he was.
All of their ears perked as a bell began to sound. Sanddelver passed Ayyub’s sword to him and he attached it to his belt as the mole rat said, “Let’s find out, shall we?” He led the three troop leaders from the orderly room and across the parade field to the garrison’s offices. As they walked, Ayyub glanced up at the parapets and high tower of the fortress, noting that the long-range onagers were not being manned.
Clearly, the Royal Artillery contingent wasn’t expecting trouble.
“Come in, gentlemen,” Colonel Wolff said genially, casually returning the salutes given to him. The lupine was flanked by Major Castor, in charge of the Artillery, and the cervine lieutenant that served as the adjutant. The captains who led the infantry and the Imperial Lancers had been gathered near the tea urn, and at Wolff’s gesture joined the Yeomanry leaders at the long table. “Please, help yourself to tea – ah!”
Heads turned as the door opened again and Sa’id Saq, the Army’s liaison with Governor Longtooth, entered with a tall antelope right behind him. The antelope was dressed in the robes usually found worn by the inhabitants of Tel Ostori, and he inclined his head toward the Colonel before taking a seat.
“I’m certain you’re wondering what’s going on,” Wolff began, clasping his paws together and resting them on the table, “but something has happened south of Tel Ostori. Hetman Clawsand has requested our assistance,” and his gaze flicked toward the antelope, “and the Governor has agreed, and has ordered me to cooperate fully. A message is being transmitted to GHQ to keep them informed.”
“What’s happened, Sir?” one of the infantry captains asked.
“A caravan was headed north from the Four Sisters,” Wolff replied, “guarded by a mixed detail of Yeomanry and Tel Ostori militia. Quite a substantial amount of goods.”
Ayyub cupped his chin in his maimed paw, listening intently. As he listened, he drew a map in his mind to trace the caravan’s route. If they followed the usual track, he thought, they’ll follow the river and turn north to take the shortest route through the Oven – Netherhells, wait a minute and he sat up straighter.
“The caravan was attacked, Sir?” Samuel asked.
“It was. We believe it was attacked by the same group that attacked Aqhm Sharpears’ troop several months ago.”
Talib’s tail swished. “Attacked?” he asked, looking at the antelope. When the man nodded the equine asked, “Raided?”
“No,” the antelope replied in a very deep, gravelly voice. “The caravan was massacred.”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 960 x 644px
File Size 71 kB
Listed in Folders
These careful transitions back into the military culture of Ayyub's working life feel very comfortable. It reminds me that most of his life in the military is these formal & informal workday interactions, for months and months. Much more of his life lived, than the few interspersed hours or days of stress and 'adventure'.
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