Middenly Charms

© 2017 by Walter Reimer


A hearty thank you for the use of characters by  eocostello set in  tegerio’s Realm of Faerie universe!
Thumbnail arts by  tegerio, with color by  marmelmm!


Part 15.



I sighed a bit, inside.

It’s one thing to be called ‘Shorty’ by a bunch of squaddies, or some snooty whitetail. A good punch-up can have a therapeutic effect on a soul. Just ask Brother Cellini, who regularly beats up his idiot acolytes Lupo and Cannizorro as part of his weekly sermons. And if it’s not therapeutic to him, at least it makes the congregation feel better.

But to have a crowned head of state laughing at you? In front of her realm’s nobility? Best to just stand there and take it.

And by the Lady’s Tailfur, I did just that, as Grand Duchess Lucretia’s laughter was taken up by the rest of the court.

Prince Erik frowned. “Lucretia – “

The Grand Duchess waved her paws for quiet, and eventually the hilarity died down. “You’re – you’re right, brother,” she panted. Sitting up straight in her chair (she had slumped over to one side), she wrestled herself under control and with a straight face asked, “Master, tell me: Expressed as a percentage, how much of you is nose?”

She promptly started guffawing again, so hard that she kicked her feet up and one of her slippers went flying.

The ever-helpful Wolf Queen piped up. “As a rough estimate, Your Grace, I’d say seven percent.”

Oh, thank you very _______ much. I could have simply told the Wolf Comedienne that her tits measured up to no significant percentage of the rest of her; i.e., her hindquarters, but I managed to restrain myself.

After another moment or two of hilarity, I cocked an eyebrow.

"You could," I said slowly and clearly, "enquire of . . . Aelfric? Yes, that was it. Or his men. They had a good view of my height. Briefly." I showed a glint of silversteel teeth.

This shut Her Grace up. Briefly. Then an amused chuckle. "I like you, small one. You have spirit." The rest of the court settled down as she leaned over and put her slipper back on, swept a stray strand of dark brown headfur out of her eyes and smiled at Sir Dagobert. The poor goat looked completely flustered. “You’ll have to forgive me, Sir Redtail. I simply could not resist.”

You might have tried, I thought, glad that I had blocked my Elf-Mind. The Wolf Queen gave me a look after trying to reach me, and I returned her glance with a shrug.

The goat bowed slightly. “Of course, Your Grace. As I was saying – “

“King Adler is gracious for having accepted our apology for the late Grand Duke’s insults,” the wolfess on the seat said smoothly. “Be welcome in the Grand Duchy.” She gestured for the next person to come forward, and Sir Dagobert bowed and stepped aside, taking the hint admirably. I think it’s something that the Imperial Civil Service learns early on in their careers – when to argue, and when to just swallow what you were about to say and bow.

Prince Erik was led forward, the wolf’s ears swiveling a bit as his tail wagged slightly. “His Highness General the Prince Erik MacHalfdan of Vangaria,” the escort announced. The Prince bowed, formally and correctly.

Duchess Lucretia smiled. “Erik.”

“Lucretia.” The wolf stood facing her, feet nearly shoulder-width apart and his paws resting on the hilts of his sword and dirk. His ears flicked toward her. “Sister?”

“Brother?”

“I am remiss, Your Grace. I missed your accession.”

“Your absence was noted, Brother.”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that the circumstances of your accession were unusual.” There was some muttering from the assembled members of the Grand Duchy’s court at this. Clearly, the Prince’s choice of words caused a stir.

“Yes. I will tell you about it – later. Right now, there are some questions to put to you. Laird Melvyn?” and at her rather languid gesture the Herald stepped forward. I couldn’t help but notice the sudden attentiveness of the court.

“Y’are Erik MacHalfdan, o’ Clan Vangaria?” Melvyn asked.

“I am Erik MacHalfdan.”

“An’ were ye t’take a troop t’conquer land fer th’ glory o’ t’Great Alpha?”

“I was.”

“An’ were ye worsted by th’ Wolf Queen an’ th’ Master o’ Elfhame?”

Prince Erik looked a bit perturbed by this line of questioning. His ears flicked back as he replied, “I was worsted by the Master of Elfhame and the Wolf Queen.”

“An’ ye an’ yer men were gi’en o’er t’Master o’ Elfhame?”

“Yes,” and the Prince’s shoulders slumped slightly as the Herald rang a small gong and shouted “Got ‘im!” as the nobles laughed. When the applause and laughter died down Erik said, “I always preferred the Questions Game, myself.”

“This has always been a lot more fun, and you know it,” the Grand Duchess said. “Still, we are all very glad that you’re back among us, dear Brother, and I’m certain that you have a lot to tell all of us. I look forward to hearing it, but for now we want to welcome you home,” and the rest of the nobles applauded. Prince Erik gave them a skeptical look as he stepped back.

Her Grace stood up and descended the dais, the guards saluting as her toes touched the floor, and the nobles bowed or curtsied as she walked over to us. She stopped before her brother and I was a bit taken aback.

The wolfess was about as tall as I was, the top of her head about level with the tips of my antlers.

Where the Netherhells did she get off calling me short?

The two royal siblings suddenly grabbed each other by the shoulders, glared at each other, crested and started growling. I saw a pair of nobles exchanging looks and what looked like wagering chits as the display went on for several minutes.

Finally Lucretia said:

”Brother of my pack : Blood of a Great Clan
Wandering alone : In strange mead-halls.”

Erik blinked and glared sharply at his sister before saying:

”Blood of my blood : Sharp-toothed sibling
Long have I wandered : Ere aid unlooked-for.”

A few members of the audience looked impressed by the display. I knew that the Prince occasionally composed kennings, and he had said that his sister was better at them than he was. Still, composing them on the spot can be a bit difficult for modern Elves (the Elves of the Long Ago used to do it while charging at an enemy, usually at the top of their lungs).

The wolfess stopped cresting and she flung her arms around her brother, eyes bright with tears as she said, “Oh, Brother! It’s so WONDERFUL to see you again!” They hugged as the rest of us, Gray Horde and Imperial alike, slowly began to applaud.

After several long moments the Grand Duchess stepped back, sniffled a bit, and said in a loud voice, “My Lords, lairds and ladies, honored guests, let us have dinner! Let the mead flow, to welcome my brother! Let there be music and dance, to welcome our guests!” The nobles cheered at this, and she took Prince Erik’s arm and headed for the dining hall. The rest of us followed, mainly out of hunger but also out of curiosity.

The hall’s ceiling was decorated with clan banners and the walls were hung with tapestries depicting great feasts that had been held there in the past. One in particular showed a victorious Grand Duke and his court eating and having a fine old time, while their enemies were being squashed under the floor. The tapestry’s dyes were particularly vibrant.

The table and seating arrangements were intriguing. Tables had been set up in a D-shape around a spiral stairwell heading downward, with the Grand Duchess, Prince Erik, Sir Dagobert and me and the Wolf Queen seated at the center portion of the straight table. Everyone else sat in the semicircle, and servants brought dishes up the stairs in the middle.

A few of the nobles were still giving me the eye, apparently because I didn’t keep the fun clean when the Duchess and I talked. Well, she started it, and squaddies play the Insult Game to win.

The dishes for herbivores were very tasty, and judging from the Wolf Queen’s reaction, the carnivore offerings passed muster. Prince Erik and his sister ate very little, eyeing each other a bit suspiciously. I thought that they might be speaking in Elf-Mind, but a quick check showed that there wasn’t anything passing between them. Finally I heard my onetime prisoner say, “We’ll talk later,” and devoted more of his attention to the herb-roasted chicken on his plate.

Dessert was a confection of cake with brandied fruit compote ladled over it, and a few servants remained as the stairwell was covered over with a set of hinged boards. A trio of rather comely wolfesses in short skirts danced to the sound of drums and flutes, and they were followed by a bard who sang accompanied by a lutenist.

Thank Fuma they didn’t inflict baglutes on us. From what Prince Erik’s grandfather said, they were known of here in the Grand Duchy. Having one play might have put me off my dessert.

Dinner finally wound down, with a few older lairds being helped from their seats and carried from the hall. A couple of older ladies of the Court were similarly treated, being either as old as their mates or just as considerably in their cups.

The Grand Duchess rose to her feet, and opened her mouth to say something. She looked a bit irritated when a horn fanfare interrupted her, and she gave the heralds The Eye before saying, “Sir Dagobert, our friends, the night’s shadows grow long, and you have had a hard day’s travel to reach us. Therefore, you will be shown to your rooms here in the High Lair. We shall talk in greater depth in the bright day, after a good night’s sleep, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Sir Dagobert said on behalf of the delegation.

“Excellent,” and servants bearing torches lit our way to various parts of the keep.

Prince Erik was shown to a palatial suite of rooms in one tower, near to the high round central tower that housed his sister. He and the Grand Duchess exchanged chaste kisses on the cheek before he closed the door, and we moved on. Sir Dagobert and his retinue received a collection of rooms connecting to a hall that could be used for meetings or for social gatherings. The goat got the largest private room, as befitting his ambassadorial status.

We were nearby, and the attendants escorted us to the grand-ducal quarters. “Wolf Queen?” Lucretia asked.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“I have taken the liberty of granting you a room beside mine,” the wolfess said with a smile. “I will trust that it’ll be suitable, but if not, you are free to sleep in my quarters.” She leaned closer and I caught her saying quietly, “Whenever you want. The guards have already been told. No pressure.” The implication was obvious, as was the wolfess’ wink.

The Wolf Queen, as I’ve related before, does not find mels to her taste, and the Grand Duchess was a fairly comely example of her species. Knowing all that, I was a bit startled to see her ears lay back and her expression suddenly show a fair bit of discomfort. “Um, er, thank you, Your Grace,” she finally managed to say. “I’ll think about it.”

Lucretia beamed. “Good. Master, these attendants shall escort you to your rooms.” She gave an elaborate yawn. “I’m a bit tired, so I trust you will forgive me.”

I bowed. “Of course, Your Grace. Have a pleasant night.”

“Thank you,” and she stepped into her room. I caught a glimpse of pink bed-curtains before the door closed, and I turned to face the quartet of wolves who had been escorting us.

“So,” I asked, “where am I sleeping? The dungeons?”

“Dinna fash ye’self,” one guard said. “Her Grace dinnae hold with violatin’ guest right.”

Imagine my relief.

“They’re bein’ aired, any road,” another muttered.

“So where am I sleeping?” I asked.

“Walk this way,” one of the wolves with the torches said, and started shambling down the corridor. I bit back the standard ”If I could walk that way” jape and followed him, swiveling my ears constantly to keep track of the guards at my back.

My quarters were at a different tower, on the south side of the complex, with windows looking out over . . .

“The castle middens?” I asked. “Really?”

One of the torchbearers snickered. “’Twill be a gert convenience fer ye, buck, if ye need t’go in th’ nacht,” and the others laughed as the door closed.

My bag was already on a padded bench at the foot of the bed, which looked comfortable. I checked to make sure that there no nasty surprises in the satchel, and cast detect-magicks.

Apart from the layers of wards on the fortress itself, there was nothing inimical. I closed the windows, though; although a bit of fresh air would be welcome, the pong arising from the middens was a bit off-putting.

I began to get ready for bed. Let the wolves have their little joke.




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