Sole Wolfess and Kid
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel and Walter Reimer

(The Sole Wolfess and Aedith ‘Sunny’ Winterbough are courtesy of E.O. Costello. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by  technicolorpie

Part Eight.



There’d been a few changes. Quite a few, actually.

When we all left Eastness about a week or so ago, we didn’t take the Gates. Tali and her compatriots used their odd antless cart (I still have trouble believing that it could talk, let alone fly), the Master took his ant-cart with Ooo-er and T – the Raccoon Queen, and I manifested my wings and flew. Therefore, we went nowhere near the Gates that gave the Master and I access to the city on our first visit.

So, seeing this bit of Eastness again rather impressed me with the way that the land had revived, starting with the stele-gate’s twin. See, because Eastness’ kings were all ospreys, the Gates were poised on top of the stone monuments. If you didn’t have wings, you had to be an acrobat or a magic-user able to pook to use the thing.

Now? There was a wood and stone platform being built around the stele. At least one side had a ramp, and the entire structure was large enough to accommodate two ant-carts abreast. The platform was still incomplete, with a sign near one area that read Mind the Gap.

My tail shivered involuntarily. It had been a Gap that had set my feet upon this path.

One worker caught sight of us, hovering in midair, and he almost brought his hammer down on his paw. He caught himself before doing himself an injury, spat out a nail and waved. “Eala! In aged day, greetings!”

“Greetings to you,” I said, touching down on the stele and immediately stepping off onto a completed bit of platform. I put Aedith on her feet and she started looking around as I asked, “What’s all this?”

The whitetail deer gestured around him with his hammer. “State Council ordered it, Ma’am,” he said. Very well-mannered buck, unlike a certain roebuck I know.

[Note appended to manuscript: “I heard that.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “You were meant to.”]

“They want to get things ready for trade and travelers, so they’ve contracted us to build this.” He stood up and stretched. “About time for me and the lads to knock off for the day though, so the Light shine on you and your pup for showing up when you did.”

“Thank you,” Aedith said before I could reply, and she dropped a neat curtsy. That she was doing this while balancing one-footed on a beam made the buck smile. She grinned and lightly hopped off the beam to land on top of a vertical post barely a paw-span square, teetering a moment before steadying herself with motions of her arms and tail.

Almost made my heart skip a beat, but I held back. Aedith has a lot of friends in Elfhame, and watching them play their childish games will alternately make me laugh or make me want to rush in to save her. I’m told that a lot of mothers react the same way.

Don’t get me wrong, please. By having friends and the opportunity to just be a child, my daughter has a great advantage that I never had.

Still, the reaction to her act had unexpected effects. One worker with a long plank balanced on his shoulder turned to watch her, smacking another fur straight in the muzzle, and when he turned to see what was going on, he hit a second carpenter. The first one started barracking the one with the plank, and almost got hit a second time when he swung around again.

The deer said, “Excuse me,” and went over to break up the ensuing argument before it descended into trading blows.

Mels, honestly. Femmes would have talked things out without resorting to violence.

I think that the does in Elfhame have the right way of it, rolling pins notwithstanding.

I walked down the half-completed ramp and went over to the post that Sunny was balancing on. “Aedith,” I said, holding out my paws to her.

“Yes, Mommy?” she giggled.

I smiled up at her. “Come on now,” and I beckoned with my fingers.

“Whee!” She jumped off the post and I caught her, swinging her around as she laughed until I had gathered her into a hug. I set her on her feet and took her paw in mine as the buck, having somehow managed to impose peace among his employees, walked over.

“It’s getting late, Ma’am,” he observed. High marks for his powers of observation; the sun was beginning to set. “You’re the first travelers we’ve had, and you’re welcome to be our first guests.” He gestured toward a small group of buildings on the opposite side of the road from where the Last Resort had once stood.

A sign beside the gate proclaimed that the place was the Wayfarer’s Inn. It was brand new, and while I can sleep rough, I had a traveling companion.

And I hadn’t thought to bring camping gear with me.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” I said. “I don’t have much coin.” Elves Don’t Lie; I had ten coins in my Elfintory, but they were all gold suns that the Master had brought back with him. “But I think we’ll stay the night before heading into the city.”

Like the outside, the inn was quite new and scrupulously clean, and the weasel femme at the front desk was thrilled to be the one on duty when the first visitors from Outside showed. That she was also very pleased with the money went without saying, and she happily made change of the sun I offered.

It also helped that she was very attractive, but I kept my eyes on a leash.

“Your room is number 12,” she said as she gave me the room key, “and there are some musicians from a neighboring village here tonight.” She explained that the inn also doubled as a substitute for the area’s public house now that the Last Resort had gone to its just reward.

I thanked her, and Aedith and I went to our room to freshen up before dinner.

Dinner was a stew made with feral lamb, thickened with barley and vegetables, with fresh bread and cheese served along with the steaming bowls. Aedith had milk, and I limited myself to a single mug of beer. Everything was delicious, and we sat for a while with some of the villagers and listened as the musicians played. No, no baglutes; there was a lutenist, a flute player, and the singer played a small drum.

I sensed it was starting to get late, but Aedith seemed a bundle of pure energy. So, I caught her eye and yawned, widely and elaborately.

I never will fathom just how that works, but it’s very effective. She started to get sleepy, so I gathered her up and we slipped out of the main room.

The beds were soft and very comfortable, but I could hear my daughter moving about. “Aedith?” I asked.

“Yes, Mommy?”

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t sleep,” she said plaintively. “Bed feels funny.”

I smiled. She seemed to have slept well enough when we stayed the night in Artabanus’ hut and in the rooms granted us by the Jade Emperor, while the beds here were of a sort you might find in the Capitals or in Elfhame. She’d learn when she got older how to sleep in a strange bed at any time.

I shifted over and held the blanket open. “Come over here, you can sleep with me.”

This suggestion was met with enthusiasm, and after some nuzzles and ear scritches my daughter started to get drowsy and was soon fast asleep.

I took a little longer to drift off, but eventually I joined her.


***


Breakfast the next morning was oatcakes with fruit compote, bacon and hot tea, and after getting cleaned up I settled our bill and bought a small basket of goodies and a flask of tea for the road. “Is there a coach headed into town?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not,” the weasel mel, probably the husband of the femme from yesterday, said. “The State Council has plans to start running an omnibus service between the city and the outlying villages. You might hitch a lift on a cart going into town, though. Lots of traffic.” I thanked him, which was courteous of me.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Will wonders never cease?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

Even if there were no carts on the road, the weather looked just fine as an opportunity to walk off breakfast, so Aedith and I set off on foot.

Thanks to the malign influence of Alastair, the weather the last time I was here was marked by almost-constant rain, heavy clouds, and darkness. Of course, the weather transmitted itself to the peoples’ mood, which was strange and mysterious while we had waited for the Royal Remains Society to come and fetch us. Now, though, I had the leisure to look around and admire the scenery while I kept my pace slow for Aedith’s sake. The sun was shining, so my daughter quite happily trotted along beside me, her paw in mine.

About midmorning we stopped on the side of the road for rest and refreshments, and afterward we accepted an offer of a ride into town on an ant-cart bringing vegetables into Eastness. Aedith sat beside me and laid her head in my lap, eyes closed and basking in the sun as we entered the city.

I thanked the ant-cart driver when he dropped us off at the central market. The tank of molasses that the Vulpitanian ant-cart had hit had been replaced, but there was still a faint, cloying odor in the air that made the ants restive. I smiled at the memory of a memorable chase, and we started walking around again. Aedith had been to Albric Tor once, so her second trip to a city had her oohing and ahhing at the tall buildings and the sheer size of the place.

It was getting close to noon, and we joined a crowd of people headed for the main Temple of the Brilliant Light. The gathering worshippers were welcomed by the feline priestess and her staff, some of whom were singing hymns. People started taking their clothes off and dancing in the bright sunlight, joined by people who were still clothed.

I felt a tug on my paw and I looked down as Aedith asked, “Can we dance, Mommy?”

I grinned, remembering how Ooo-er and I had danced with Aedith on our wedding day (and ending up in midair as my little Wild Priestess of the Light displayed her power). “Sure we can,” I said.

Elves Don’t Lie. It took a moment for me to get into the rhythm of the dance, but soon Sunny and I were part of a large circle of people dancing. A femme had hold of my left paw and Aedith was on my right, and I’m sure that my smile was as radiant as my daughter’s fur.

In fact, I could tell that she had started glowing slightly.

And my ears flicked at gasps, as the realization that Aedith was not only glowing, but was now several paw-spans above the ground, sank in.

I felt my own feet leaving the ground, and Aedith laughed before she caught the look in my eyes and we settled back onto the pavement. With the figurative spell broken, I looked around warily to see that everyone in the area, including the priestess and her staff, were staring openmouthed – not at me, but at Aedith.

“A Wild Priestess,” the priestess murmured, her tail bottled out three times its normal size.

“Excuse me,” and I turned as a canine in the uniform of Eastness’ City Guard stepped forward. “Are you the person we’re looking for?”





<NEXT>

<PREVIOUS>

<FIRST>