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 16.


DEAR SWEET HOLY FUMA’S MERCIFUL EMBRACE, WHAT THE NETHERHELLS WAS THAT!?

Whatever it was, I was completely awake and standing in the middle of the floor in my small-clothes, slightly crouched and with my flaming dagger in my paw before another ear-bending spike of noise, sounding like someone was slowly roasting a pair of feral wildcats alive on a lap-harp, went straight through my skull like a bodkin’s point. I winced in reaction and almost dropped the dagger on the carpet, which might have engendered comment on why I was trying to burn the room down.

Then I heard it again, and I sheathed my knife disgustedly.

It was someone playing the baglutes.

I muttered a cantrip to render myself – well, not deaf, but at least muting the sound somewhat - and looked out the window. It was just before sunrise, but I didn’t see anyone on the walls. Grumbling, I stopped the cantrip and opened the window, gritting my teeth at the bedlam until I could sort out where it was coming from. I stuck my head out, ears swiveling.

To my horror, it was coming from directly above me, from the top of the tower about four levels above me. I pulled my head in and closed the window just as the infernal racket ended on a last few atonal squeals of agony.

Blessed silence.

Yeah, right.

Bells began to ring, and I could hear howling as the wolves of the Grand Duchy prayed to the Great Alpha. It was not quite as loud and much more melodious than that wretched baglute.

Before we parted the previous night, Sir Dagobert graciously told me that I could wear a working uniform, which meant that I could save wear and tear on my ‘A’ uniform. I cleaned up, got into my green Elfhame Rangers uniform, and headed out to the Imperial delegation’s common room for breakfast.

Fortunately it wasn’t hard to find, and a few other early risers greeted me. One fellow, a tall and cadaverously thin bear, waved at me as I walked in. “Good morning, Master! One of our hosts tells me that we’ll be having breakfast soon. Won’t you sit down? The tea’s hot.” He was wearing trousers, a shirt, and a dressing-robe overall as he sipped at his own steaming cup.

“Thank you, ah - ?”

The bear grinned and set his cup down. “Hubertus Fuller, Master. Baronet, if you can believe it,” and he chuckled while we shook paws. “I’m not surprised you don’t know me, really – we weren’t introduced before leaving the capital. I’m with the trade group.”

“Trade? So you’re in business?”

“Just so.” He resumed drinking his tea while I added some sweetener to mine and joined him at the table. “Got my gong at the last Honors,” he added in a confiding tone, “and here His Highness chooses me to go along to the Gray Horde. My wife was beside herself.”

“She was worried?” I asked.

“No, she was worried that I had a young chippy on the side that I was seeing.” He laughed. “Elves Don’t Lie, of course, and I reminded her of that.” He gave me a broad wink. “Of course, I’ve heard that you have any number of young femmefurs at your beck and call, right Master?”

I rolled my eyes and took a fortifying sip of my tea (quality stuff; not FAFI standard) before saying, “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear in ballads, sir. It’s frequently exaggerated beyond credulity.” He chuckled as I took another drink of my tea. “I was a bit surprised by the wake-up call this morning.”

“Yes, baglutes. All I can say is that it’s a Netherhells-inspired way to greet the dawn. Rather like introducing yourself by punching a fur in the conk," he replied, pantomiming punching himself. I almost snorted tea up my nose and he added, “One of the butlers told me that it’s traditional, and not something just for us.”

“That’s nice. I’d hate to have them vary their routine on our account.” Others started emerging from their rooms, one canine yawning, along with servants bearing food and drink for breakfast. I contented myself with more tea, a bowl of fresh blueberries with cream and a thick slab of oat-bread dotted with raisins, which I slathered with butter and honey. As everyone sat down to eat, I took a while to think.

(And yes, Sixth, I was capable of that, back then. Get away from that persimmon-cake.)

My instructions were to observe and report, with an added order from the Marshall to see to Prince Erik’s well-being. Apart from the fact that I’d been specifically invited by the Grand Duchess, I had no idea what else I would be doing during my stay in the wolves’ territory. I spooned up some more berries and cream as I thought.

The Wolf Queen came in, looking a bit tired. I made a guess as to what she’d been up to, based on what the Grand Duchess had said to her last night. I waited until she got a hot cup of tea and some bacon before asking in a muted tone of Elf-Mind, ”Good morning. Bad night last night?”

She glowered at me over her tea. ”She wouldn’t leave me alone.”

”As in - ?” I asked.

She surprised me by actually replying, ”No, although not for lack of trying on her part.” That brought me up short; the Wolf Queen hadn’t been very stingy with her favors at Vulpes-Vulpes and up in Frostheim. ”She kept finding excuses to come into my bedroom, and each time was wearing a different set or style of night-clothes.” The wolfess took a long swallow of her tea after eating some of the bacon on her plate. ”She certainly wasn’t backward about her hints.”

”And you didn’t take her up on her offer? Are you sure you’re feeling all right, wolfess?”

She gave me a glare that would turn new milk into cheese, and I decided to discontinue that line of inquiry until she was a bit more receptive to it. Which, given her rate of pissiness, was likely 'round about the time the Lady would be re-birthing the world. I finished my tea after eating the last of my oat bread and stood up as Sir Dagobert came in.

“Be at ease, Corporal,” the goat said. “It’s been a long time since I held the King’s Commission,” and he waved me to a seat. “Is everyone here? Good.” He got a cup of tea for himself and sat down before tapping a spoon against the cup to get everyone’s attention. “I received a note from Her Grace this morning, and she is pleased to grant us guides and guards so that we can travel about the city – “

“Just a moment, Sir Dagobert,” Hubertus interjected, “but why ‘guards?’ The city looked fairly peaceful to me.”

“And it is, but some of the common people in Creig de Chuirn may object to having us here. Master, Wolf Queen, I know from the Marshall that both of you can handle yourselves in a fight, but please refrain from fighting. Please.” He smiled as a few members of the staff chuckled. I nodded and the Wolf Queen just gave the goat a smirk before getting another helping of bacon. “The diplomatic group, myself included, will be starting talks with the Grand Duchy’s Council of Heralds, and arrangements are being made for the trade group to meet with business leaders – “

A portly bull raised a paw. “’Council of Heralds,’ Bert? Don’t they have a Foreign Ministry?”

“That is their Foreign Ministry, Ferdie, at least their name for it. Retired officers from their army.” Sir Dagobert’s ears swiveled. “I look forward to a lot of arguing. Let’s get ready, people,” and a few others started to head for their rooms to get cleaned up and dressed. Baronet Fuller took his time finishing his tea before getting to his feet.

“Have you seen Prince Erik, wolfess?” I asked the Wolf Queen.

She shook her head, and I left to go see how he was doing. It wouldn’t look good on my report to the Marshall that I had let the wolf die on his first night back home.

Finding my way wasn’t too difficult, but as I reached the top of the steps there were two guards there. “Ye can stop richt there, buck,” the taller of the two growled.

“And good morning to you,” I said. “I was going to see if Prince Erik slept well.”

Both wolves laughed, and one bared his teeth at me. “What are ye, then? His cubsitter?”

“I think he grew out of needing one a long time ago, don’t you agree?” I asked.

The taller one reached out and poked me in the chest, and again when I didn’t back away immediately. I put up with it, only partly because I was on (self-imposed) best behavior and partly because I’ve seen furs bigger than me make the same mistake. You see, if someone reaches out to point at you or poke you or whatever, they’re giving you something important.

Namely, a finger, a paw, or an entire arm.

If you were, say, in a FAFI or a pub, you’d be hard put to reject such a gift. The last whitetail buck I beat in a pub did the same thing this wolf was doing, and in that case I had grabbed his paw and yanked hard, taking him off-balance and enabling me to throw him head-first into the bar.

However, I was on the aforementioned best behavior, so I didn’t avail myself of the present the guard was giving me. Instead, the three of us contented ourselves with glaring. The shorter wolf crested, and I returned the favor, letting them see the silver-steel choppers.

“Och, where’d ye be gettin’ those?” the short wolf said. I explained about my fight with the cult leader Kalkeus, and the fellow whistled. “Here ye’d hae th’ richt t’all his lands an’ property.”

The taller one shook his head. “’Tis nae guid t’be havin’ th’ Unseelie underfoot. Th’ Great Alpha’d make short work o’ th’ likes o’ him.” Three pairs of ears flicked and we turned as a door opened and the Prince stepped out into the hallway.

Prince Erik looked both healthy and well-rested as he finished belting a dressing-robe about his waist. “Good morning, Master! Let him past, fellows. I know this gentlefur.”

I thought that calling me ‘gentle’ was pulling the long bow, but I walked past the two guards and shook paws with the Prince. ”I just dropped by to see how you were getting on, Your Highness,” I said.

“Quite well, Master. Come on in and let’s have a cup of tea.” He ushered me into his room and soon we were seated comfortably before a slowly stirring fire, cradling steaming cups of strong tea. “What brings you up here?” he asked. “Really, I mean.”

“To be frank, Highness, I was worried. Prince Roland asked that I keep an eye on you, as you know – “

“And I’ve had my own misgivings about my sister’s motives for asking me back,” Erik said, nodded.

“If it isn’t personal, Highness, what were you and your grandfather discussing the other night?”

“Just talk about the family,” he assured me. “Laird Cuthred was happy to see me, despite appearances, but several of my relations have either died or lost their status since I was taken prisoner.” He nibbled at a meat pasty. “I plan on having a talk with my sister, hopefully this afternoon. I’d like you to sit in on the meeting.”

“Me, Your Highness?’

“Yes, Master. You’re the only fur in this realm that I actually trust.”
At his admission I put my teacup down and stared at him. Sure, Elves Don’t Lie, but this was one Netherhells of an admission. “Me?”

“You. You’ve acted honorably ever since taking me and my unit prisoner; behavior, I might add, that wouldn’t be forthcoming from my relatives. Wolfen tradition mandates that anyone displaying weakness can lose face, and therefore standing in the pack.”

“’Beat or be beaten.’”

“Exactly. And do take care of yourself, Master. There are some, I think who still recall Mossford and might want to settle scores.”

I smiled. “I’ll be on my guard, Your Highness. Thank you for the tea, but I must go. Her Grace has offered us the freedom to look around the Lair and the city, and I confess I’m intrigued by the Loser’s Hall.”

“You mean the Hall of the Dishonored,” Prince Erik said, and we shook paws before I left his rooms.

The two guards were still there, looking at me, and I decided that a short pook might impress them. So I formulated the right bit of Gramerye, with a landing zone about ten feet in front of them -

It wasn’t an ordinary pook.

There was the usual darkness and the whirling through space sensation, sure, but suddenly I felt something grab me by the scruff of my neck and fling me head-over-hooves (and yes, I know how that feels).

Suddenly light and feeling were back, and I could feel the air clear around me, along with bright sunlight and bird song.

I suddenly became aware of two things:

One, I was outside the tower where my rooms were; and

Two, I was twenty feet in the air and plummeting downward.

Naturally, I did what any Elf might do in my immediate situation; that is, scream like a doe-fawn and flail my arms and legs around as I fell, the ground coming up fast. I closed my eyes –

Splorp!




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