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Authors: Kyell Gold,Sara Palmer

Volle (28 page)

BOOK: Volle
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“Quite.” The wolf seemed pleased with his response. “We’re not at war, but we might be someday.”

“Why? I mean, I presume not everyone has my reasons.”

“Oh, the Reysfields, for one. Richest cropland in the river valley and they took it from us. Oncit borders the Reysfields, you know, which means we’re on the frontier now. Unstable situation. Sure, they don’t maintain any military presence there, but it’s still theirs. My grandfather remembered when Oncit was larger and included some of the Reysfields.”

“I see.”

“Plus there’s the matter of pride. That land, plus the land to the south, well, it’s always been Tephossian. Except for the last fifty years or so. Someday, we will get it back.”

“How?”

The question provoked an odd reaction from the wolf. His ears flattened and he looked down, his energy gone. “Yes,” he muttered. “How, that is the question.”

Volle didn’t know quite what to say to that. Maron went to the sideboard and fetched the dinner, which he served very gracefully, to Volle’s surprise. It was a small Cornish hen with bread stuffing and small tomatoes around the side, and while he was eating it, the wolf began talking again.

“So what do you do in your spare time?”

“Oh, walk about town some. Visit a pub or two. In the palace, I just noticed some people playing a game in the library that looked interesting.”

“Yes, chess. I play myself, with Lord Ikinna. He’s much better than I am, I’m afraid. I’d be glad to help you learn if you like.”

“Maybe when tribunal slows down again.”

Maron nodded. “Should have one or two more busy weeks, then winter will set in.”

“I’d like that, then.”

“I’ll bring a set.” For the first time at the dinner, the wolf smiled.

“What about you? What do you do for fun?” Volle regretted saying that immediately, as the wolf looked like he hadn’t had fun in a very long time.

“Oh…” His eyes took on a faraway look. “I read. Play games.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Dozen years or so. Sometimes it seems longer.”

“What do you like best about it?”

That made the wolf pause. He stared at his plate and said, “I used to think I could make a difference. I wanted to do something for my people. That’s what I liked.”

“We made a difference for some people today.”

“For a couple. In a year, nobody will even remember that they came to the palace, much less what the decision was or who handed it down.”

“But it is important now.”

Maron sighed. “You’re right, of course. Sometimes you just get carried along in the course of things and you find that where you are isn’t where you set out to be. And you look back and can’t quite see how it happened, but it’s too late to change it, really.”

Volle smiled. “I don’t think it’s ever too late.”

The wolf paused again, and gave him a long look. “Well. Hopefully you’re right.”

Dessert was a bowl of berries with fresh cream, and Volle stayed for only one glass of sweet wine, as visions of Xiller were starting to dance through his head. He shook paws with Maron and took his leave, thinking as he walked back to his chambers that he was surprised at how much he’d enjoyed the dinner. The wolf had turned out to be an interesting dinner companion in a number of ways, not least of which was that Volle had the distinct impression that he was being tested or sounded out.

The scent of the cat drove those thoughts from his mind as he closed his parlor door behind him. He stopped and breathed in, trying to sort the layers out as he had that morning, but the scent was too faint. Smiling, he eased the sitting room door open, padded in, and then eased the bedroom door open.

He could see the shape of the cougar, sprawled across the covers, but there was no eye-shine to greet him. Standing there in the shadowed doorway, he slipped his clothes off slowly, padded towards the bed where the cougar’s scent was strong, and stopped abruptly.

Two gleaming orbs had appeared as the cougar opened his eyes, and a line of white slowly appeared as he grinned a feral grin. He stalked to the edge of the bed, and Volle felt his heart race. Instinctively, he took a step back, then another, as the cougar leaned forward.

He pounced at Volle, who twisted away and ran for the bedroom door, the cougar just a step behind. He had to dodge around the table in the sitting room, but the cougar matched him step for step. In the parlor, he hesitated between the door and the window, and just as he turned for the window, the large, muscled body tackled him from behind and bore him to the ground.

They hit the floor, but not hard, and Volle realized the cougar had cushioned the fall with one arm while holding him with the other. Teeth grazed his ear, and Xiller’s soft voice hissed with amusement. “The little fox was running from me, but I seem to have caught him.”

Volle squirmed a bit and gave a little whimper. The paw holding his chest let him feel the prick of its claws, and he stopped moving. His heart was pounding and his nerves felt as taut as a harpstring, though he knew the danger wasn’t real. Blood pounded in his head and loins, his arousal pressed almost painfully hard against the cold stone floor as it grew. He could feel the cougar’s arousal under his tail, which seemed by contrast almost unbearably warm.

A warm tongue pushed up the fur on his neck, and then powerful jaws circled it. He felt the pressure of teeth on his neck as they scraped through his fur, and a brief stinging pain that was lost in the flood of sensations. The jaws retreated, and the tongue licked up to his ear. “And what shall I do with him now I’ve caught him?” the cat’s voice whispered.

“Whatever you want,” Volle whispered back.

“Yes,” came the chuckled reply as the cougar’s other paw moved down Volle’s side and slid under his hips. They moved together, desire uniting them under the starlight until even the stone of the floor was no longer cold.

Later, Xiller watched with amusement as Volle returned from the bedroom with a towel to clean up the floor. “Doesn’t your servant do that?”

“I don’t know if I want him knowing about this. The servants all talk to each other.”

Xiller traced a claw over Volle’s bare rump. “You think we didn’t wake him up?”

Volle sniffed at the floor and wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know how lightly he sleeps. I didn’t hear him moving when I went through, though.” He took another swipe with the towel.

Xiller chuckled, a deep, throaty chuckle. “I thought our chase might have woken him. You were bad to run like that. It got my predatory instincts all up.”

Volle leaned over and licked the cougar’s nose. “Maybe that’s what I wanted. I admit I didn’t expect you to be that fast. It ended well, though.”

“Mmm. Sure did. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“A couple scratches. I’ve had worse.”

Xiller purred and nodded, resting on his side. “You’re a tougher fox than you look.”

Volle looked at the eyes shining in the darkness, half indignant, half amused. “How tough do I look?”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, all the foxes I know are light, slender, and mostly biters. You’ve got good muscle tone and you know how to use it.”

“Thanks. Must be all that farm living.”

“You were raised on a farm?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. I don’t smell it on you.”

“I haven’t been on the farm for a long time. Nearly a year.”

“Oh.”

Volle sniffed the floor again, and this time detected only a faint odor of sex below the stronger scent of the towel. He sighed. “I think that’s the best I’ll do.”

“Let’s get to bed, then.” He stood, extending a paw, and pulled Volle into a tight hug before walking with him to the bedroom.

Curled up together in bed, Volle murmured sleepily, “How much longer can you stay?”

The cougar nuzzled his ears. “Two more nights. I leave
Ursi
day morning.”

Volle sighed deeply. The cougar’s arms tightened around him. “I know. I’ll be back, though.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. As long as it takes.”

“A month? A year?”

“It shouldn’t be a year. But I really don’t know. I’m not supposed to come back here, but I’ll find a way.”

“Okay.” Volle yawned. “I’ll be here.” The thought of Arrin lurked on the fringe of his consciousness, but it seemed so remote as to be beneath his notice. He was warmed by the cougar’s body and his promise to return, and when he slept, his sleep was deep and peaceful.

Chapter 12

 

Welcis woke them both in the morning, setting out an outfit for Volle to attend services that morning and then retiring, without saying a word. Xiller grinned from the bed as Volle got dressed. “Think he heard us last night?”

“Maybe.” Volle pulled on his shirt and shook his fur into place. “I think he just generally doesn’t approve of you being here.”

Xiller shrugged. “As long as you do.”

Volle wagged his tail. “Most certainly. Aren’t you coming to services?”

The cougar’s ears slid back and he mumbled, “No. They told me not to. Too public.” He fidgeted. “I haven’t missed a Gaiaday service in years, and I so wanted to see the cathedral. Felis forgive me.”

“She will,” Volle said. “Maybe you can worship this evening, when the cathedral’s empty.”

“Without a Cantor?”

“I’m sure there are some around. I’ll talk to one and make sure.”

Xiller smiled, and his ears came back up, and Volle thought he would promise just about anything to see that expression on his muzzle, that light in his eyes. “Will you?”

Volle nodded, and the cougar sprang out of bed and wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you, fox. That would mean a lot to me.”

“Then of course I’ll do it.” Volle ruffled the cougar’s bare back with his claws.

Xiller was kissing him soundly on the muzzle when Welcis walked back in. The skunk coughed delicately. “Sir, the palace is assembling for services.” He seemed to be avoiding looking at Xiller’s naked form, as difficult a task as that was.

Volle licked the cougar’s nose and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight and we’ll go over.”

The cougar’s tail swished back and forth, mimicking Volle’s wagging, as the fox accompanied Welcis out to the sitting room. Even though Welcis continued to avoid looking at the naked cougar, Xiller seemed completely at ease, making no attempt to cover himself.

Outside, the palace was assembled in a gaudy show of finery. Everyone was wearing their colors or crests and their best clothes. They had loosely assembled into the six Houses prior to going across the street, and when the foot-fox signaled that the street had been cleared and secured, they all walked across together.

Volle sang more confidently with the services now. Even though Fox wasn’t mentioned by name here, he held Fox in his heart and knew that his prayers to Canis were heard by Fox as well. He joined in the song at the end confidently, and ended the service suffused with a feeling of protection and well-being.

The Canids and Herbivores had been placed together at the end, so Volle had to look around to find the Felid Cantor, a slender bobcat. It wasn’t until the cathedral was mostly empty that he spotted him talking to another bobcat, a noble Volle didn’t recognize. He walked over and waited patiently until the noble was finished and left.

“Yes, my brother’s cub?” The bobcat turned peaceful eyes on him.

“Father’s brother,” Volle said respectfully, “I wonder if I might ask you a favor.”

“If it is within my power to grant, I will be delighted to help. But why not ask Cantor Juvicius?” He indicated the coyote who was the Canid Cantor, walking back towards the back of the cathedral.

“A friend of mine was unable to attend services this morning, and must leave the city in two days. He very much wanted to have a service in the cathedral before leaving.”

“He is a son of Felis?” Volle nodded, and the bobcat stroked his muzzle thoughtfully. “We normally spend the evening in private observance. I do hold a small service on Feliday, but that’s five days away.”

“It is very important to him.”

The priest smiled. “Importances are all relative, my brother’s cub. Does the importance to one outweigh the importance to another?

“It is important to me as well. That makes two.” Volle smiled tentatively, and the priest returned his smile.

“For someone so devoted to Felis and not even of her flock, I can spare half an hour from my observances to lead a small service tonight. At what time will your friend be ready?”

“Nine?”

“That will be fine. Come in through the side entrance, there, and wait for me here. I will lead you to one of our private chapels.”

“Thank you, brother’s father. I won’t forget this. Should the Church need something in the future…”

“We have all that we need inside us, but there are always those unfortunates whose needs cannot be met by Gaia alone. A donation to one of our orphanages is never unwelcome.”

Volle nodded. “I will remember that. Thank you again.”

“Good day, brother’s cub. Go with Gaia.”

“And you as well.”

He walked out of the cathedral with a happy arch to his tail. The secured area along the street was still lined with a few locals, but most of the ones that had turned out to watch the nobles go to church had gone home or to their own services.

Helfer was waiting for him. “Seeking some extra spiritual guidance in your dilemma?”

“Dilemma?”

“About Arrin.”

Volle patted the weasel on the back. “No, that seems to have worked out. Oh, did you get a warning from the Steward?”

“Yeah. May that rat catch the plague. Writing us up for something that was his fault in the first place.”

“No way to prove that, though.”

“Can’t you bring the cougar to the Steward? I’m sure they’re curious who he is.”

“He’s not supposed to be exposed to any more people than necessary.” Helfer snickered. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not likely to be a big deal, anyway. It’s not like I plan to go screwing in public again.”

“Don’t include me in your plans if you do.”

“With as long as you took? Perish the thought!”

Volle grinned. “Yeah, I actually gave him time to get interested before
I
sprayed all over his paw.”

“Hey, I could’ve come twice in the time it took you. Would’ve, too, if he hadn’t stopped. He must not know about weasels.”

“Or else he knows all about them.”

They bantered, grinning, all the way back to the palace and all the way through their run, and as they stood panting in the main hallway, Helfer said, “Look, why don’t you bring him up for dinner tonight? It would be nice to meet him a bit more formally, since you think so much of him.”

Volle considered. “He’s usually busy for dinner, but I can come up and tell Welcis to send him up when he returns. We’ll have to leave around quarter to nine, though. He wants to see the cathedral and I told him I’d take him.”

“Won’t leave us much time.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much time to see him either.”

“I know, I know.” Helfer grinned and waved. “See you tonight, then.”

“I’ll be there.” Volle waved and watched the weasel jog up the stairs, then headed down the corridor for a bath.

He took a walk through the town in the afternoon. Most shops were closed for Gaiaday, but a few eateries were open. He visited the fried pastry shop, as had become his habit; they knew him there now. Munching his pastry, he slipped into the alley three doors down, made sure he wasn’t being observed, and then slipped a note into a space behind a loose stone in the wall. It was one of their rotated drop sites, which he made sure to visit at least once every few days. Today’s note mentioned the odd behavior of Lord Oncit and his discussion of a Ferrenian war, as well as a loosely worded suspicion that something was going on at the palace that Dereath was involved in.

He’d agonized over whether to mention Xiller, and in the end had decided to wait and see what else he could learn before doing so. He was afraid that he would be given instructions to do something that would damage their fledgling relationship, or to stop seeing the cougar altogether. In a couple days, he knew now, Xiller would be gone and he could write a report detailing what he’d managed to learn. The decision was not made without a great amount of guilt; he knew that really he should have reported Xiller as soon as he showed up, and only his personal issues kept him from doing so. But, he reasoned, what could they tell him to do? Capture the cougar? Lure him to a place where he could be questioned? Neither of those seemed very plausible to Volle, and he was trying to get information as best he could. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, he thought as he sauntered out of the alley, licking crumbs from his muzzle.

The air had a definite chill to it, but he only noticed it at the tips of his ears and in the breeze past his nose. He thought about winter and what the snow would be like in Divalia. In Caril it was beautiful on the tops of houses, but often melted to slush in the streets and pooled in holes that became invisible. Many a soaked paw trod the cold stone floors of the Academy in the winter months.

For now, though, the snow was weeks away, and the chill in the air refreshed and invigorated him. He wandered off his normal route, and found himself in a dark, cramped street. At the end of it, a group of large badgers turned to look at him. He knew that look from the streets of Caril, though he’d never been on the receiving end of it there. For the first time in his walks in the town, he felt nervous, and he turned back to the more open street.

He’d been warned about his walks in the town. Near the palace, there were guards posted, and a noble was never more than a shout away from help, though still vulnerable to cutpurses. The better businesses were located there, to attract the nobles’ money, and so generally there was little danger. Further away, though, rescue was not so close, and not only his money but his person might be in peril. He’d always trusted to his instincts and his speed to get back to safety in time, and now he paused downwind of the alley entrance and slipped into a doorway, keeping his nose to the wind.

For ten minutes, he waited, while people walked by and smells floated through the air, but he didn’t smell the badgers. Probably they wouldn’t chase him beyond their street, but he waited a couple more minutes to be sure. When they didn’t appear, he edged cautiously out and padded quickly towards the palace.

“They wouldn’t have done anything besides take your money,” Helfer assured him over dinner. “Might have been a little more rough than a cutpurse, but they wouldn’t have killed you. Like I said, you have more to worry about here at the palace.”

Volle took a sip from his second glass of apricot mead, and nodded. “I’m not used to that.” He meant that he wasn’t used to being a target. In Caril, he and the other students had walked around in plain clothes through some of the worst sections of town and had barely even been jeered at.

Helfer took it another way. “City’s a lot more dangerous than the farm, you know.”

“I know, I know. But hey, at least here you can’t end up with a leg sheared off by a plow.”

“Did that happen to someone you know?”

“Yeah.” It had happened to Reese’s older brother’s friend, who really did work on a farm, but Volle co-opted the story. “They had to take the leg off. Now he can only drive the plowing team. He can’t help much with the harvest.”

“That’s too bad.”

Volle shrugged in what he hoped was an appropriately nonchalant way. He’d been horrified when he’d heard of the accident. Granted, he’d lost a childhood friend to disease, but mutilation was something he’d never thought about before Reese mentioned it. Now he repeated what Reese had said when he’d told the story. “It happens. Goes with life on the farm.”

Helfer nodded. “Glad I don’t have to work on a farm.” Which amused Volle, as it was very nearly exactly what he’d said to Reese.

“Anyway, they didn’t follow me, so I didn’t have to find out.”

“I don’t know what you see out in the city anyway,” Helfer said around a mouthful of rice and vegetables. The kitchen had prepared a rare vegetarian dinner, but after some initial grumbling from Helfer, they’d found it quite good.

“Just curious about it,” Volle said. He had always known the streets of Caril and enjoyed walking around the streets here to see how different and similar they were, but again, Helfer interpreted his remark differently.

“Very different from the farms, eh?”

“Quite.”

“You should be okay. I used to wander out too, though I don’t think I ever went as far as you did.”

That suited Volle. The fewer nobles wandering the city, the less chance he’d be seen dropping a note or receiving one. He was worried about Dereath following him, but he’d remained attentive and had yet to see the rat outside the palace.

They were just licking the last traces of lemon tart from the dessert plates when they heard a knock at the door. Caresh answered it, and ushered in the large cougar a moment later. His eyes brightened when he saw Volle, and he barely let the fox stand up before sweeping him into a hug.

“Hi.” Volle licked him and hugged back, tail wagging. “You remember Helfer?”

Xiller grinned. “Quite well.” He extended a paw.

Helfer stood and chuckled. “What do you want me to put in that?”

Xiller laughed. “Just a paw, this time. I am sorry for getting carried away.”

“I’m just sorry you stopped.” Helfer smiled as he shook the large paw.

“I did have a fox to take care of.” The cougar grinned down at Volle.

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