A Night of Burns
A story of Elfhame
© 2026 by Walter Reimer
Blame assigned to  EOCostello
Thumbnail by Disney, via  Major Matt Mason


Six


“The ant-cart?” Anastasia asked the next morning. Witold had come back quickly and assured me that everything was arranged for midmorning. The two-wheeled cart had a small basket provided by Nippy that included a flask of white wine and several glasses. How she knew where we were going and for what purpose, I chalked up to the ermine maid’s Talents. “Why ride?”

“The foot bridge across the river isn’t finished yet,” I said as I helped up into the cart, “and I don’t think you want to get wet or muddy.”

When I climbed aboard she gave me a kiss. “Very considerate. Those fords always have loose stones, I'm told.”

“Yes.” I had a suspicion that the Wolf Queen had been telling Anastasia everything. I plied the ant-goad, and the single ant started forward.

We went over the [Bridge of Sighs], traveled a short distance along the Great North Road and turned onto a road beside The Leaping Trout that led to Glenallid. “They seem to be doing well,” Anastasia observed as we went past the inn.

“The Grangers are talking about expanding it,” I said. “There are a couple villages to the west, around Veronka Lake, as well as Widdershins Country. They like coming here; Chef Ernest’s reputation is spreading.”

“And it’s a good place for caravans from Eastness to stop when headed south or north,” my mate said. “Good for business – “

“Which means more money coming into Elfhame,” I said. “Thank the Lady I stopped all the fees, and the King keeps our taxes low.”

We headed on into Glenallid, passing a few wolves who were going about their business. Young Witold came loping up beside us. “[In fair day’s childhood, peace and greeting, Master and First of Eldest]!” the wolf said cheerfully in Elfhamian. “My Da an’ th’ others’re waitin’ fer tha,” he added in Standard. He kept up with us to show us the way to go.

Elves can work quickly when they have the will to do so. The original wagon encampment established by the Wanderers now had homes, shops and two forges. The wagons were still there, of course, as the Wanderers would harness up their ants and go on tour throughout parts of the Empire. A much larger building was being raised, and young Witold informed us that it was a mead-hall large enough for the community to gather for festivals because, he said, “There’s few as want t’eat their supper outdoors.”

I had to concede that point.

Witold pointed us toward a gate just outside the village on the southwest, bearing a guild marking, and Anastasia wrinkled her nose at the smell of the herds of feral sheep that had been gathered in. “That’s . . . pungent,” she said as she cast a ward over her nose.

“Tha gets used ta it, [First of Eldest],” Witold said cheerfully. “Means meat on table an’ milk in’t cups fer growin’ cubs, so m’Ma says.” He waved at an older wolf and came to a stop. “Me Da,” he said as he caught his breath and took hold of the ant’s reins for me so I could help Anastasia off the cart. He clucked at the ant as he led it off to a hitching post.

Witold’s father, also named Witold, was a strongly built wolf who swept off his flat cap and bowed to us as we approached. “Fair day, Ma’am! Fair day, Laird! Please coom inside,” and he glanced up at the sky, “fer it’s shapin’ ta rain,” and he led us into a collection of buildings that included a milking shed.

The feral ewes, trapped inside close-fitting wooden cages, bleated irritably as several wolfesses industriously relieved them of pails of fresh milk. One of the milkmaids dipped a small cup in one pail, sipped at it, and offered the cup to Anastasia.

“Oh!” my doe said. “I – I’m – “

“It’s very good, Ma’am,” the wolfess said.

Anastasia visibly made her mind up. “Thank you,” and she took the cup and sipped. Her ears went up. “It’s delicious!” she said and offered the cup to me. I sipped and it tasted sweet.

Old Witold beamed. “Good meadow grass,” the wolf said, and led up into the building where the pails of milk were dumped into huge troughs. Stones treated with heat-spells kept the milk warm. “Na here’s where th’ magic starts,” he said. “Th’ sheep gie us their milk, aye, but they gie us rennet too.” With one trough filled, another wolf removed the stopper on a stoneware bottle and poured a clear liquid into the milk before beginning to stir it with a paddle.

As we watched, the milk began to curdle. “Amazing,” Anastasia said. “Where does this ‘rennet’ come from?”

“A sheep’s stomach, Ma’am,” Witold said carefully.

My mate’s ears dipped, but as we moved on she said to me in Elf-mind, “Very economical.”

“We can leave if you want to,” I said.

“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “This is fascinating.”

The curdled milk was allowed to settle before being cut up, scooped up out of the liquid (Witold said the solid part was ‘curd’ and the remaining liquid was ‘whey’) and placed into molds. Excess liquid was pressed out, and the resulting forms were taken down a short set of stairs and through a doorway. Some of the cheeses were covered with chopped herbs before they were carried out.

“This way,” Witold said, “an’ ye’ll see th’ cheeses bein’ aged.” We followed him down the steps and through the doorway, and the wolf added, “This ‘twas once a queen’s chamber.”

“An ant-burrow?” I asked. The air was musty, but with little of the sharper scent of ant; instead, it smelled of herbs. Magic-globes illuminated the underground chamber.

“Aye, an’ empty fer years. We’ve made it as safe as a house, we have, so nae fear o’ th’ roof comin’ doon on us. Ah, an’ here we are.”

Stretching out before us were wooden racks with cheeses resting on them. “Further back, the older they are,” Witold said, “so it’s there we’ll go.”

“How far down does this go?” Anastasia asked.

“Two levels, an’ we’re dowsin’ t’see if we can dig deeper,” came the ready reply, “or find a better place, mebbe in’t hills.”

We reached the end and Witold thumped two small wheels, nodded sharply once, and gathered them up in his arms. “We’ll go on now, back up an’ ta th’ shop,” he said.

Once we were back aboveground we were shown into a small building that was slightly detached from the rest of the establishment. Witold took a razor-sharp blade from a rack and cut two slices from each wheel while I went out to the cart and brought in the wine.

I had figured that a tasting was in the offing, and it reminded me of the time the Comet Regiment toured a winery and went on a tasting at the end of the tour. The place considered themselves lucky there was any wine left to sell after the Auld Sweats had a go at their stock.

I poured a glass for each of us, and Anastasia and I toasted to Witold and the Guild’s success before taking a bite of the cheese.

Oh my.

It was delicious. One wheel was plain, and had a nutty flavor; the one with herbs on it was imbued with the coating’s essences. “This is wonderful,” Anastasia said to Witold.

“Thank ye, [First of Eldest],” the wolf said proudly. “I’d be obliged if ye’d try this,” and he placed a small, squat covered jar on the counter with a small plate of twice-baked bread slices and a small table knife. He took off the cover. “We’ve taken th’ fresh cheese, and mixed it with a little salt an’ herbs.” He spread a little on a toast and offered it.

Anastasia took the tidbit, sniffed and took a bite. Her ears went up and after she’d eaten it exclaimed, “This is wonderful! Westersloe, you have to try this!”

So I tried it. It was great.

Witold wrapped up the two wheels and the covered jar for us to take back to the Master’s Lodge. “If you’ll allow,” I said to the wolf, “I’d like to send some samples of cheese down to the Capitals.”

He grinned. “Allow it! M’wife’ll have me hide off me if I refuse!” and we all laughed.

On the way back to collect the ant-cart, we encountered a young wolfess with a laundry basket. She was wearing Wanderer everyday costume, and she curtsied to us before going on her way.

Anastasia observed as I stowed the cheese and helped her into the cart, "She didn't show you her breasts, Westersloe."

"I think that's because you're here."

"Oh?"

I nodded. "Deference to your rank as [First of Eldest] and my mate, and the fact you know fire-magics."

"Oh. Very smart of her."

"Yes." I started us back on our way to Elfhame.




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