Volle (37 page)

“I thought of that, but she’d be able to smell it. Unless I completely washed off, and I wouldn’t have time for that really.”

Richy grinned. “You can use what we use. It masks the smell very well.”

“Oh, really? Thanks!”

“Sure, just remind me before you leave. I’ll give you a bit.”

“Thanks. I won’t need it for a few weeks yet. A month, actually, I think.” He tried to remember when she’d said her season would be. Two weeks after the cotillion, so a month was about right.

“Wedding night?”

Volle grinned. “Something like that. The big social event is in a couple weeks and she comes into season after that.”

Richy teased his shaft with a finger. “You’ll still come see me, right?”

“Of course I will.” Volle squirmed, squeezing the wolf’s shaft, and giggled. “She doesn’t have one of these.”

“She’ll have yours.”

“But then I won’t.”

Richy laughed. “True enough. Well, you’ve got mine when you need it.”

“Mm, I know.” Volle wriggled again, feeling the knot, which hadn’t gone down much. He smiled down at the wolf. “How long have you been doing this?”

“About two and a half years now. Ever since Jonn died. I needed some way to support myself.”

“What about your family?”

Richy shrugged. “They didn’t like Jonn. Thought he was taking advantage of me. I think they were happy when he died so they could laugh at me.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice.” Volle stroked the wolf’s chest.

“That’s my family,” Richy replied.

They were quiet for a moment while Volle stroked his fur, trying to avoid the sticky patches. “What was Jonn like?”

“He was an older cat. He trained horses. I took riding lessons with him, and other lessons, without the horses, in the stables…” He sighed and stroked Volle’s paw, smiling. “It’s okay. It’s been a long time, and I’m all right. I’ll do this for a while and then buy my own stable.”

“How long?”

Richy shrugged slightly. “A few more years before I’m not quite young and pretty enough for everyone. If I’m lucky. A couple of the boys here got beaten up by customers and quit. One died of—something else.” He looked suddenly wary. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. Any of this, really.” He smiled and nuzzled Volle’s paw.

“It’s all right.” Volle guessed he’d been about to mention a disease, which he knew was common in the brothels, but of course they wouldn’t want to talk to the customers about that.

“Really, you come here for escape and I shouldn’t be talking about myself like this.” He squirmed a bit, his knot looser.

Volle sighed as he felt the wolf’s member slide slowly out of him. “I do get a nice escape here. I’m not—a noble, a courting fox, or any of that here. I’m just Volle, and you’re just Richy, a sweet young wolf.” But as he said it he realized how false that was; Richy was putting on a persona for his benefit, and no matter how much he opened up, this wasn’t what he was like.

Richy didn’t respond to the comment as he cleaned them up with the towel. When he’d finished, he rummaged in the chest and then handed Volle a small packet of herbs. “Mix some water into this and rub it around your groin. It masks the come smell.”

Volle put it in his purse as he pulled his pants on. “Okay. Thanks again.”

Richy smiled. “Good luck.”

Volle slipped into his shirt, adjusted it, and gave the wolf a hug. “I hope you find someone you can just be yourself with,” he said softly. “I think that’s very important.”

“Thank you,” Richy nuzzled him.

“I’ll see you in five days. Promise.”

Richy traced his sheath with a paw, leaning back against the bed. “I’ll be here.”

Volle grinned and walked back out to the main room, where of course Helfer wasn’t. The crowd had thinned a bit, so he sat down at a table and lapped a mug of wine. As he usually did after visiting Richy, his problems seemed to recede. The cotillion was far away, he was making progress in investigating the palace, and he would see Xiller again, maybe not this year, but hopefully next. The raccoons were in fine form, he thought, the crowd looked happy, and he felt content, relaxed, and at peace.

Book 3: Lord Vinton

Chapter 16

The morning of the cotillion, Volle looked out of his bedroom window and saw tiny white flakes drifting to the ground. “Is snow lucky or unlucky?” he wondered, standing at the window and looking outside, letting the cold air drift past his muzzle.

“Beg pardon, sir?” Welcis had entered the bedroom quietly and now stood at the wardrobe.

“Oh. Good morning, Welcis. I was just wondering if the first snowfall on the day of Ilyana’s cotillion was a good omen or a bad one. What do you think?”

“I believe, sir, that snow is commonly associated with the coming of winter, a cold, dry time that most consider the least pleasant of the seasons.”

Volle couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or not. “So you would opt for bad omen?”

Welcis’s muzzle twitched in a way that suggested the possibility of a smile. “I would not be so bold as to predict anything but success for Madame’s event. In my experience, sir, Gaia sends her seasons regardless of the activities of her children.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t worry about it.”

“In a nutshell, yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Welcis. Still, it is the first snow.” He watched some more flakes fall, reached out and caught one, and brought it back to his muzzle.

“Yes, sir. I believe that winter is also considered among the more romantic of seasons. Many people remain inside during the cold nights, and romance is often the result.”

“An excellent point.” Volle smiled. “Now, you are aware of the preparations for today?”

“Yes, sir. Lady Tistunish described the necessary procedures at length.” He started to lay out the formal clothes the tailor had produced for the cotillion. “I do have one piece of information, sir. His lordship may remember that some time ago he had asked me to procure information regarding Lord Oncit.”

“Oh, yes. Turn up anything?”

“My inquiries have been discreet, and until last night had produced no results. Lord Oncit is a very quiet, private lord. However, last night I happened to encounter his servant again, and he told me that some two or three weeks ago, he overheard Lord Oncit mention your name.”

“What did he say?” Volle had turned from the snow and was watching Welcis eagerly now.

“He only heard him say ‘I tell you, he’s not suitable!’ or something of the like. His voice was raised, which is why he had over heard that.”

“Who was he talking to?”

“He would not tell me at first, sir, but I gathered from some of the other things he said that it was Secretary Prewitt.”

Prewitt? “What did he want to know if I was suitable for?”

“Precisely, sir. I could not gather that, I fear.”

“Well, thank you for what you did get, Welcis. I’m lucky to have you.”

The skunk did smile then, and nodded. “If his lordship will come over to the bed, we can begin with a brushing. His lordship did take a water bath today after his run?”

Volle nodded. “I’m mostly dry.” He sighed. “I hate running alone. I can’t wait ‘til Helfer gets back.”

“Lord Ikling left two days ago?”

“That’s right. We had dinner and he said he’d be gone early the next morning. It’s dull without him around. I wish he could be around tonight.” Volle sat back as Welcis worked the brush through his fur.

“How long is his trip?”

“Two weeks, I think he said. One week of travel, another week to attend to his affairs there.”

“Two weeks will go by quickly, sir, especially with Madame’s company.”

“I suppose so.” Volle sighed. Helfer would have caught his sly double entendre about ‘affairs.’ He closed his eyes. The brushing usually felt good, but today it seemed rough and irritating. Probably due to his worries about the cotillion.

“What time are Tish and Tika coming by?”

“I believe Lady Tistunish has decided to help Madame prepare for this evening. Lord Tistunish will be here for lunch in approximately one hour.”

Volle’s stomach rumbled at the mention of lunch. He wanted to eat, but at the same time he felt shaky and wondered if he really had an appetite. He’d been unable to prevent himself from getting nervous about the cotillion; no matter how many times he told himself that he was prepared and that it didn’t matter anyway, he had horrible visions of himself doing something totally inappropriate, people laughing, and Ilyana’s crestfallen expression as her cotillion was ruined.

“They should’ve taught us this at the Academy,” he thought to himself. “What good is it if I can recite all the kings of Ferrenis in order, if I can’t make it through a simple cotillion?”

Welcis was arranging the clothes and helping him with them. First the pants, which had fasteners in the front and back, then the undershirt, which was plain linen, then the overshirt, which was dark blue sateen with violet ruffles on the sleeves and a violet collar. The buttons down the front were a lighter purple, so they stood out against the blue. All in all, Volle liked the outfit well enough, but it took the better part of half an hour to put on. He was glad that Ilyana had chosen to leave off the lace trim, no matter how fashionable it was.

He busied himself while waiting for Tish’s arrival by finishing a note to Anton delineating some requests the Agricultural Council was making. He found that lately, he wasn’t able to finish any of the few administrative tasks he had, what with keeping Seir informed of his progress (or lack thereof), spending lunches with the taciturn Oncit, and trying to calm an increasingly frenetic Ilyana.

Perhaps, he mused as he sealed the letter, he was picking up nervousness from her. It was certainly likely enough, as she was communicating it with scent, not just body language. Even Tika seemed more jumpy lately, though that could’ve just been her natural worrying about the event as well. Only Tish seemed completely calm about the whole thing.

Just as he thought that, he heard Tish’s knock at the door. Welcis admitted him to the parlor, and he stood before Volle in his own new outfit.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Volle said. “You do look good in that.”

“It was expensive enough,” the black wolf grumbled, but his ears perked happily at the compliment. “You do yours more than justice as well.”

“Thank you. Have a seat?” Tish took one of the chairs, and Volle handed the letter to Welcis. “We can get lunch. Can you take this to the stables and have it sent to Vinton?”

“Certainly, sir. Lunch is on the sideboard.” Welcis bowed and picked up his cloak, then left the room.

“Glass of wine, Tish?”

“Thank you, I believe I will. How are you feeling, m’boy?”

“Oh, nervous.” Volle poured two goblets of wine and brought them over to the small table, seating himself across from the large wolf. “I just hope it all goes well, for Ilyana’s sake.”

“I’m sure it will. We’ve coached you properly and I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Tish lapped at his wine and nodded appreciatively. “This isn’t from the palace cellars.”

“No, Helfer gave that to me. He doesn’t like wine and says Vellenland doesn’t do very good wines, but I rather like it.”

“I do too. Perhaps I’ll trouble him for a bottle. When he returns, of course.”

Volle nodded. He swirled his wine and looked into the goblet, missing Helfer again. He felt much more weighed down with duty and work when the weasel wasn’t around.

“Want to run through the ritual again?”

“Not really.” He smiled at Tish. “Maybe after we eat.”

“All right. Lead on.”

They shared a simple lunch from the kitchen: a salad and some cold chicken, garlic-roasted. Afterwards, Tish settled back with his second goblet of wine and smiled at Volle. “Who will escort my daughter from her home into the world?”

“I will.” He grinned. “That was an easy one.”

“And who are you?”

“Lord Volle of Vinton, a fox of noble breeding and good character, true to Canis and Gaia and King Barris.”

“And who will vouch for this fox?”

Volle snickered. “You’re doing them out of order, and anyway, that’s yours!”

“So it is. ‘I, Lord Marcher of Tistunish, true to Canis and Gaia and King Barris, vouch for Lord Volle of Vinton.’”

“My parentage is: Lord Wiri of Vinton, whose father was Lord Taurin of Vinton, whose father was Lord Fyrin of Vinton, whose father was Lord Beri of Vinton, whose father was Lord Geri of Vinton, who was granted his title by King Telas IV, son of Gaia.”

“Very good. ‘Will you protect her from ill, and show her beauty, guide her from the wrong path and accompany her on the right?’”

“I will.” Volle’s tail swished the floor. “Wish I didn’t have to do this in front of all those people. It feels like a wedding.”

“It’s best to have the courtship begin at an event if possible. Often a cotillion is just for the young lady to meet the eligible bachelors in her society, but if there is one who plans to court her, he announces it there. This ritual just makes it fit into the cotillion better.”

“I know. Well, I think if I can get the parentage question, I can get any of them. When should we leave?”

“In a bit.” Tish smiled. “Don’t get too worked up about tonight. In the grand scheme of things, it isn’t that important. Your courtship will happen regardless of what you do, but the formal words will make it easier. They’re important to Ilyana and her family, but not so important that they’d jeopardize this union. So relax and have a good time.”

“I’ll try.” He sighed. “I just don’t think I’m the best choice.”

“Tika and I do, and so does Ilyana, so you’re outvoted.”

“As if that had anything to do with it.”

Tish grinned and levered himself up from the chair. “You’re right, of course.”

“Nice to know it.” Volle got up as well, and smiled. “But you’ve never steered me wrong yet.”

“Nor will I.” For a moment, he looked beyond Volle, and then his eyes snapped back to the fox. “Now, speaking of steering, shall we be off?”

Volle bowed, extending a paw towards the door. “Age before beauty.”

Tish grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “I almost regret we picked out such a pretty vixen for you, you disrespectful fox!”

“Too late now.” Volle followed him out.

It took them about half an hour to get to the house that was hosting the cotillion. It belonged to a relative of a friend of Tish’s, or a friend of a relative. It was a beautiful old house that Tish told him had been a retreat from the palace for a lord in the past, but now was the permanent residence of the family of one of that lord’s illegitimate children, to whom he’d bequeathed the house, since he couldn’t leave him his title.

Volle had seen similar mansions in Caril, but not in Divalia; then again, he hadn’t been far from the palace, which was surrounded by shops eager for noble patrons and housing for commoners who owned and worked in the shops and the palace. In this area, he saw several large mansions, and the one the carriage stopped in front of was neither the largest nor the smallest.

Greenery and hedges surrounded the house, though nothing as fancy as the gardens of the palace. Everything was white with the first snowfall, and the flakes swirled around Volle and Tish as they stepped down from the carriage. The front sported several white columns and a shallow flight of steps leading up to the gold-and-blue-painted door. In a little while, a servant would be waiting at the door to greet the guests, but for now, there was nobody, and Tish opened the door himself.

Volle looked at the snow before walking inside. “First snow,” he said half to himself, rubbing it between his fingers.

“It’s a bit early,” Tish said. “Looks like it might be a hard winter.”

They walked into the mansion, into a small hallway that led to a larger one. Both hallways had candle sconces and mirrors, but only a couple paintings, both of a noble-looking stag. Volle didn’t see any legends near the paintings, but he supposed they were portraits of the original lord who’d owned the mansion. They looked rather old.

The whole place looked old to him, and slightly dingy. The floor was dirty, though it had been recently swept. He and Tish were leaving wet footprints as they walked along, although Volle suspected they were getting as much dirt on their paws as they were leaving on the floor. The palace was always quite clean, and he was surprised to find himself missing that, especially as the Academy floors had been anything but.

“Here’s the room,” Tish said. “What do you think?”

It was gorgeous. The floor was polished and shining in the light that filtered in through the many windows along the far wall. Each of the white marble squares was joined at the corner by a small red diamond to the other four squares. A black border ran around the edge of the room, separated from the white squares by a line of gold. At one side of the room, two marmots and a raccoon were working on a wooden platform, while a fox and a bobcat distributed place settings around a number of small tables. Opposite the platform, a larger table was being set by a mouse and a goat, who were talking in low tones as they worked.

The six windows reached from about two feet above the floor to four feet below the ceiling. Each one was made up of dozens of small, diamond-shaped panes, and was surrounded by a decorative golden relief, surmounted by the insignia of one of the Houses of Gaia.