Middenly Charms
© 2016 by Walter Reimer

A hearty thank you for the use of characters by  eocostello set in  tegerio’s Realm of Faerie universe!



Part 5.


The private Royal Gardens were as beautiful as I recalled them being, lush banks of exotic flowers which flaunted bright colors in the midmorning sunshine. Overall, it was an enchanting place to see, even though the Wolf Queen seemed a bit spooked when a garishly-colored butterfly flew past her nose. She wouldn’t tell me why, either, but kept at least part of her attention on it as it flapped from blossom to blossom.

I wanted to keep track of the insect, too. Any butterfly capable of doing that to the Wolf Queen deserved a firm shake of the wing and all the best-quality nectar it could drink.

All of the natural beauty seemed quite thrown away on the Crown Prince. He kept glaring at me as the Wolf Queen and I were escorted into the Gardens (through a passage behind the Coronation Chair; I’d been there before) after the formal session of the Court ended. Although his mind was shielded, I could detect a buzzing in Elf-Mind that seemed to be going back and forth between Prince Gawain, the King, and his uncle. The wolfess picked up on it as well, and kept a pace or two to my rear.

The storm broke as soon as the last servant exited the Gardens.

“YOU!” Gawain said, leveling a finger at me as if he had a sword in his paw. “I want it made clear that you are NOT here by my leave! My Royal father wanted you here, and my uncle agreed to it! But mark well, Master,” he said, his paw shaking as he twisted my title into an insult, “if you set a hoof wrong – if you even so much as THINK about doing ANYTHING outside of your orders OR your mission, I’ll see you in Alkali Tor!” He huffed and started in again, “If I’d had MY way, you’d still be moldering away in that pathetic V-VALE – “

“Gawain,” the King said.

The Heir moderated his tone, but only somewhat. “Father, I’m not worried about him, but for your realm. Having the Thronebreaker on the loose again – that horned oaf will either have us at war with half of the Shining Land, or he’ll lay another crown at your feet - ”

"Are you suggesting, perhaps, that the Master of Elfhame is the equivalent of our illustrious forebear - Fuma Embrace him - in terms of his ability to shape history all by himself?" The King’s mild tone caused my ears to swivel, and the Wolf Queen made a sound like was smothering a chuckle with a paw. "You will permit me to observe that such a suggestion, my son, is farcical."

Of course, Prince Gawain may not have had a really clear recollection of what happened in the Blaec-Graf after a certain point. Both the Wolf Queen and I kept schtum; we did promise Gawain that we wouldn’t talk about it.

“I’m sorry, Father, but I want this little – this little INDEFINITE to know – “

King Adler suddenly seemed to drop about a hundred years off his age as he snapped, “Gawain!” His son and Heir turned to face him and the King said harshly, “The Master’s exile will resume, my son, when his task is completed to my satisfaction. Not your uncle’s, and NOT YOURS,” he said with a roar on the last two words that would have made his forebears proud. He gestured with a paw and said, “We shall discuss this later, Gawain, in private.”

I could almost hear teeth grinding as Gawain said, “Yes, Father. May I be excused?” The King nodded, and the younger skunk turned on one heel.

His tail started to cock.

The Wolf Queen’s wings immediately manifested and my I&RA training kicked in (very useful when confronted by a fur who can choke or blind you; it involves first turning your back to the attack), but the Crown Prince merely stalked off. But before he left, he paused and gave me the eye.

I recalled a fennec down in Rajjan Tor, Ayyub Sharpears, who once told me of a type of snake native to the sandy wastes south of the Empire’s border. It’s called a banded ost, and its nickname is ‘Two-Step’ – apparently, if it bites you, that’s as much as you can do before you die. When Millwright, one of the Auld Sweats of the 37th, heard about it, he asked, “What happens if you just stand really still?”

He got his answer when one of his mates dumped a pint of plain on his head, then banged him on the bonce with the tankard.

The Crown Prince’s glare was about as venomous as the ost is reputed to be, and again I wondered just what the Netherhells was I going to do when King Adler went to Fuma’s Embrace.

I guess that someone heard my thought; the King coughed and seemed to sag a bit before allowing Prince Roland to help him into a chair. “I still have many years before I close my eyes for the last time, Master, Fuma willing,” and before I could stammer out an apology he forestalled me by holding up a bony paw. “It is I who must apologize, Master, for my son’s . . . outburst. He had strong objections to having you brought forth from your exile.”

I bowed. What could I say that wouldn’t sound petty?

The Wolf Queen put away her wings and of course promptly stuck her oar in. “You knew that the Grey Horde would ask for the Master and myself,” she said in an accusing tone. “Otherwise you would have just sent guards to bring Prince Erik here.”

Adler cocked an eye at his younger brother. “Wolf Queen,” Marshal Roland said evenly, “it’s a hallmark of a good military fur to plan for every eventuality, and planning for today began as soon as Laird Vortimer crossed the border.” She nodded, and he continued, “His Majesty and I, as well as the Master’s fellow Blood Seal Bearers, felt that it was probable that the Grey Horde would ask for both of you. It is known that the Master defeated one of the Grand Duchess’ relatives at Mossford, and you both defeated Prince Erik’s force at the Glittering Isle. The Grey Horde apparently respects strength – “

“Ah, so who better to send as envoys than the furs who worsted them twice,” the Wolf Queen said. She aimed a sharp gaze at the Marshal. “Very well thought out, something I ordinarily wouldn’t say about a mel.” The Marshal harrumphed as the King smothered a laugh behind his paw and I held my peace. I remembered to lock my Elf-Mind down before the Marshal could glare at me.

It’s not exactly a good idea to take the piss out of the Marshal of Faerie, but Prince Roland couldn’t retaliate immediately. First, because he really has no authority over the Wolf Queen, and second because his older brother was trying hard not to laugh.

That meant . . .

"Errahum, yes.” The Marshal out his paws behind his back. “Wolfess, may I suggest that you accompany your Master to the GHQ canteen for an early luncheon? I sense that the Corporal is casting covetous eyes upon the bushes here, and I would hate to anger the gardeners.”

And of course the Wolf Queen would take the hint. She went to one knee at my hooves, holding my thigh with one paw while reaching up to my chin with her other paw. She looked up at me with these huge, liquid eyes and whimpered, “Master, may we please go? I’m sooo hungry.”

King Adler gave a quiet chuckle and his brother the Marshal had the satisfaction of seeing my ears go straight out sideways and blush a fierce red while my free hoof tapped in irritation. I know she doesn’t mean it, and I know she does this thing to make me uncomfortable (which is why she still does it, to this very day – see below). I motioned to her to get up and bowed to the King and his brother. The King dismissed me, and Prince Roland said, “[Teashor, it is the wish of myself that you present yourself in flesh and fur in my work-chamber upon the first hour after day’s full adulthood. It is further the wish of myself that the thrall of yourself be given sustenance ere said thrall starve.]”

I tried not to grind my teeth, as the Wolf Queen was still making puppy eyes at me. “[Know that it shall be so, gracious lord].” I got out of there with at least a bit of my dignity intact, but I could hear the royal skunks laughing as I left the Gardens. Laughing at me, not with me.

The Wolf Queen was still smirking as we left the Palace, until I told her to pack it in. “You have no idea how much that irritates me.”

“Of course I do,” the wolfess said smugly, “which is why I do it.” See? I told you so. “Where shall we have lunch?”

“Home. I’d rather not inflict you on the FAFI.”

She scowled. “I think you have that back-to-front. I’m not sure if what they serve there can be called food.”

“I meant precisely what I said.” We were just past the Palace gates, and I pooked clear before she could react. Of course, she pooked right after me, and we chased each other around the city for a few minutes. It worked up a good appetite, and I managed to get home and changed out of my ‘A’ uniform and into my standard mint-green Elfhame Rangers gear.

We eventually had lunch at the Crown-on-Shield, a very fine public house a few blocks from GHQ. The beer was good, and the vegetable pie that I had was first-rate. The Wolf Queen had roasted mutton and wine, and completely ignored the habitues of the house who ogled her. After I settled the bill, we were on our way out when one fellow, a lean canine, called out to the Wolf Queen, “’Ere, puppy, where’s yor leash, eh?”

His laughter and that of his friends died in their throats as he suddenly froze with Moon, the smaller of the blades on her double-bardiche, resting against his throat. She hadn’t even bothered to look at him, and the blade stopped just short of clipping a few of the longer hairs from his neck.

The canine tried to move back, and the Moon-blade followed him. “’Ere, Guv’nor,” he gasped, rolling his eyes in my direction, “call ‘er orff.”

I paused in putting on my garrison cap. “Apologize,” I said.

“Orright, orright, I’m sorry – “

“Not to me, you idiot. To her.” I jerked a thumb at the Wolf Queen, who turned to face the man with a toothy grin.

The man gulped. “Um, er, I’m sorry, um – “

She drew a bit closer, her grin widening. “My name is the Wolf Queen.”

“I’msorryWolfQueenpleasepleasedon’tkillme!”

Her bardiche vanished into her Elfintory. “Accepted,” she said simply. “Learn respect for femmes, puppy, or you’ll get your rear spanked.” She paused. “After your diaper is changed.” At that point, she walked out, and I shrugged at the man before following her.

“Honestly,” I said as I caught up to her, “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“If people insist on being disrespectful, they can expect that sort of reaction,” the wolfess said primly. “It’s not my fault you frequent low dives filled with disreputable furs.”

“The Crown is the best pub in the district.”

“Hmm. Well, the mutton was quite nice,” she conceded, and we walked back to GHQ in silence.

As we neared the Marshal’s office we could hear Prince Roland talking with Prince Erik and, to my surprise, Colonel Briarrose, the commander of the Household Cavalry. The champagne-furred skunk was saying, “You weawwy shouwd have seen it, Yaww Highness! Pwince Ewik hewe managed to stwike the entiwe Officuh’s Mess dumb, by mewely owdewing wunch!”

There was a chuckle I recognized as the Prince’s, accompanied by the deeper basso rumble of the Marshal’s laugh. The Marshal asked, “What did he order, Briarrose?”

The champagne-furred skunk guffawed. “Cawwots!”

“Carrots?”

Prince Erik chuckled again. “Steamed, Your Highness, with honey and butter. Just as an appetizer,” he added.

“It caused quite the stiw, bewieve me,” Colonel Briarrose said. “The chef even came out of the kitchen when he heawd. Weww, I’d best be going. Yaww Highness, a pweasuwe, as always.”

“Colonel,” the Marshal said.

“Pwince Ewik, I am gwad that we the oppowtunity to meet again undew happiew ciwcumstances.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” the wolf said.

I could see the office door start to open and the Marshal cleared his throat. “Have you forgotten something, Colonel?”

“Hm? Oh! Quite wight, Youw Highness. Mind wike a sieve, haw haw! I am happy to weturn this to you, Pwince Ewik.” There was a sound of something heavy being placed on the Marshal’s desk, and I stood at attention as the Colonel came out of the office. “Ah, Mastew! Good to see you again,” and he carelessly saluted as he walked past me. Valor Medal, you know. He barely seemed to notice the Wolf Queen.

“[Teashor]?” the Marshal asked.

“[Gracious lord]?”

“Get in here. I’m not going to shout down corridors.” The Wolf Queen and I stepped into the office, to find the Marshal seated at his usual place behind his desk. Prince Erik was busy buckling a sword to the belt of his kilt. “Take a seat, [teashor], and you as well, Wolf Queen.” I took the seat facing the royal skunk across his desk, while the Wolf Queen took a seat beside the lupine noble. “The King commands that you will depart tomorrow morning, with Prince Erik, via the Great Eastern Road for the United Cities,” Marshal Roland said, “and from there to the Great Lair. A small diplomatic retinue has been assigned to accompany you, and they’ll do the Statecraft work.”

“Thank you, [gracious lord]. I’ve got no experience in Statecraft,” I said.

He gave me a sharp look under lowered brows. “Hmm, yes. My orders to you – endorsed by His Majesty – are to observe, and take notes. We know very little about the culture and politics of the Grand Duchy, and you’ve shown that you can write cogently and descriptively.” He glanced at Prince Erik. “I have sent a message north, Lord Erik, in your name, telling those under your command that they’re at liberty to return to the Grand Duchy.”

Prince Erik looked surprised. “That’s very generous of you, Your Highness. My thanks.” He glanced at me. “I must admit that I’ve been treated very well during my . . . captivity, and it’s been quite an experience. Things would have been very different, had our fates been reversed.” He looked at me and his ears dipped. “Custom would have required that your rack would grace my hearth, Master.”

“You wouldn’t have his tail hanging from your belt?” the Wolf Queen asked.

“Roe deer don’t have tails,” Prince Erik pointed out, and my ears gave an angry blush as the wolfess chuckled nastily.

“Enough of that,” Prince Roland said. “You are all dismissed until tomorrow morning. [Teashor], stay a moment.”

I got up and closed the door. “Yes, [gracious lord]?”

Prince Roland’s voice was a low rumble, and I knew that the sound-deadening wards on the portal would thwart attempts to eavesdrop. “I want you to also keep an eye on Prince Erik.”

“Sir?”

“You saw the scars on Laird Vortimer’s throat.” I nodded. “From what we’ve been able to glean – you’ll be given access to those reports – politics between the various clans, within the ruling Clan Vangaria, and between the clans and the High Rock are somewhat fraught and violent. There is an outside possibility that Grand Duchess Lucretia has summoned her brother home to kill him.”

I felt my ears go straight up in shock, but I replied, “I understand, Sir.”

He looked at me over the tops of his glasses. “And watch your own back, Master. Despite my nephew’s antipathy toward you, I want you back here. Dismiss.”



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