Volle (13 page)

“The campaigns were glorious and brutal, both in success and in failure. Not everyone agreed with him. The Gaiavox here in Divalia was jailed for trying to criticize him from the Church, and another Gaiavox was installed who was a supporter. Bucher built a new prison, excavating a park and building four floors of dank, horrible cells where the people who opposed him were kept, and often died.

“He expelled all the foreign embassies.” Volle knew that; it was why his knowledge of Tephos’ recent history was incomplete. “The luckier ambassadors were sent home, sometimes with all their appendages intact. The rest…” He waved out the window with a paw. “Prison.”

“Why did the people put up with it? Jailing an official of the church? Imprisoning those who disagreed?”

Tish smiled without humor. “The church was weaker then, but it’s not so different now. Do you think anyone would stand up outside of Council and criticize the king in public? This is what I’m getting at. But about Bucher—you don’t remember your father, do you?” Volle shook his head. “It may be difficult for you to understand this, then. Imagine that you knew your father growing up. Imagine that he was a great fox, maybe a fierce warrior in battle, or a brilliant politician or tactician. You admire him and want to be like him, and yet he beats you, sometimes brutally. You tell yourself that it is because you aren’t worthy of him, that you deserve the beatings, and that you should try to be better so that all the things he does for you will be worthwhile. That is how Tephos felt about Bucher. Some still do.

“But after the army was massacred, he had fewer soldiers to maintain order. He withdrew them all into the palace and tried to rule from there, never leaving. Word of the massacre filtered slowly into the country, and the people began to adore and fear him less. And love turns so easily to hate, Volle.” The wolf sighed wearily.

“What happened?”

“They stormed the palace and killed him. Hung his body on the gate. Some say he was still alive when they strung him up, but after the stones were thrown and the people’s claws were bared…there was not much left. The guards saved some remains, and he is buried in the chapel as befits one who was king, even if he was a brutal one.

“And that, by the way, in case you were wondering, is why there aren’t more foxes in the peerage here.”

“What did Bucher have against foxes?”

Tish shook his head gently. “Nothing, Volle. He was a fox. A red fox, like you. And when the mob stormed the palace, anything with a red coat was torn to pieces.”

Volle looked down at his tail, numbly trying to imagine the horror of the scene. Tish let him absorb that before continuing. “They wanted to follow the Panbestian circle in choosing the next ruler, but Bucher had been cunning. One of the things he did was jail and kill all the bears of noble descent, so there were none to succeed him. He planned to break the circle and install his son after him.”

“What happened?”

Tish shrugged. “They broke the circle anyway, the ones who unseated him. They had no choice. Lord Fardew, the one who held the title then, was a noble wolf—the current one is just a wolf—and rather than skip the Ursina and select a Herbivoran, they decided that Bucher had been an aberration, and a true Canida king was needed to erase his memory. A lot of paw-waving, but it satisfied people. So he took the throne, became King Halloran, and did his best to mend the kingdom while still keeping it safe from attack by Delford and Ferrenis. He did as well as could be expected, though there were always those who expected more. And seven years ago, he stepped down when King Barris was of age, and the circle was repaired. So they say.”

Volle absorbed this. “What happened to King Halloran?”

“He retired to his estate in Reys and lives there still. Fardew is a landless peerage, so it doesn’t pass hereditarily as the landholder peerages do. As is the custom, King Barris installed many of his friends into the landless peerages. Fardew was one, but I don’t think they are as close as they once were. But that is not entirely relevant. This also I want you to understand.” He leaned forward. “Under each house, as you know, the kingdom moves with the traits of the king. The Herbivora excel at defense; the Mustela at attack. The Canida bring unity and harmony; the Felida bring individual glory, but also discord. The Rodenta destroy and rebuild; the Ursina maintain the status quo.”

“It doesn’t sound like King Bucher was much for unity.”

“Unity, my lad, is neither good nor bad, but it can be achieved by good or bad means. Bucher’s method was harmful in the long run, but in the short run he gathered a mightier army than this kingdom has ever seen. Halloran’s method was different: he sought to include everyone in the kingdom, thinking that exclusion would perpetuate the wound inflicted by Bucher’s reign. And perhaps he was right; still there are those who argued that all of Bucher’s surviving lieutenants should be put to death, or at least imprisoned.”

“They weren’t?”

Tish shook his head. “Indeed not, though most of them have died of natural causes by now. Three of them had children who now sit in the peerage. Ikinna, Whassel, and Ryshko are all the children of nobles who were part of Bucher’s reign. And this brings me around once again to the point of your presence here.”

Volle sat up straighter and perked his ears forward. Tish rested his muzzle on his paws. “The Ursina, as I said, are known for times of peace and maintaining the status quo in the kingdom. Any changes that take place are slow and plodding. However, they also have a good deal of momentum, and once an Ursin king is pushed in or decides upon a direction, it is very difficult to change the course. Over the last three years, I have become aware that within the palace, there is a faction that is trying to nudge Tephos into a war with Ferrenis, under the pretext that the land taken from us after Bucher’s fall is ours by right. Their real motive, I believe, is to attempt to restore to Tephos the glory attained under Bucher. But they ignore the blood and bones on which that glory was built.” He shook his head slowly. “I am too old and too well-known to do more than recruit a defense against them. My leanings are well known and the ones I suspect do not trust me with any of their plans or confidences. I have been watching the younger Lords and hoping there would be one in whom I could place my trust. Can you bear that burden?” He looked up at Volle, and the joking and laughter that Volle was used to seeing in his eyes were gone. In their place was an earnest pleading, which only partially concealed his worry. His ears were partly back, and his tail lay limp at his side.

Volle nodded. “My Lord, I would be honored.”

He didn’t know if the title was appropriate, but it seemed so, given the seriousness of the moment. Tish sighed, and leaned back with a smile. “Thank you. It is nothing we need act upon quickly, but I believe there will be a chance to act within the next year. Keep your ears open, and gain the confidence of the Lords I mentioned, if you can.”

“I will try my best.”

“And I will help you where I can. One last thing, Volle. Lest you think Bucher was an aberration and war now is unlikely, consider this: Nothing symbolizes Bucher’s reign more than the prison he built. And though his reliefs and statues have been removed from it, the prison still stands, and is still used. The ones who tore him down and reviled his name still kept his gold, and still use his prison. Remember that.”

Volle wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” Tish leaned back and relaxed, the seriousness slipping away from his muzzle. “Now, have you a personal servant yet?”

“Yes. He left just a little bit ago. I’m already being flooded with social engagements.”

The wolf grinned. “Good. Get to know people quickly, especially the ones I mentioned, and make a good impression. Go to lunch in the common dining room when you can. You’ll see people and there’s always a lot of informal discussion that takes place over lunch.”

“I’ll try to make it there. Thanks.”

“It looks like you’re fitting in pretty well here. Seen the Secretary yet?”

Volle nodded. “He put me on a tribunal. Feliday, I think.”

“Good, good. Tribunals are wonderful experience. Also not usually very busy, so you can usually get a nap in if you need one.” He winked. “Seriously, that’s where I first met the old Lord Mafitte…” He launched into a story of a case he’d heard years before, and how Lord Mafitte, a northern puma, had helped solve it. Welcis returned in the middle of the story with a plate of lunch for Volle and an official invitation to dinner from Helfer. Volle thanked him and reflected again as he ate on what he’d been missing by not having a personal servant in the past.

Tish finished up his story and stood, apologizing for leaving. “Dinner tonight,” he said. “Have to help the wife with a couple things.” His ears flicked in what Volle thought was a very cute, embarrassed way, but the fox spared him any teasing. They shook paws, and Tish left after reminding Volle (and Welcis) of his dinner engagement.

Volle filled in the few hours remaining before dinner with a nap. Welcis woke him gently and helped him get dressed, informally, then guided him to Helfer’s chambers, where Caresh received him. “This way, sir,” he said, opening the main door. Welcis bowed and walked away, down the corridor.

“Thank you,” Volle said, looking around. He was in a small bare foyer, with a plain wooden door leading to the left and a more ornate one straight ahead of him. Caresh opened the ornate one and ushered him into a parlor, about the size of his own.

The first thing he noticed that was different, though, was that this one had a fireplace. A small fire was set in it, crackling merrily—small enough that it was obviously more for ambience than for heat, especially as the weather was only starting to get chilly, and the palace was quite bearable. Like him, Helfer had a desk over near the window, but his desk was slightly smaller and less ornate. In front of the fire, a small intimate table had been arranged, with a white cloth over it and two goblets. Volle also noticed that Helfer didn’t have a door leading into the inner rooms, but a green curtain patterned with the weasel crest he’d noticed on the skirt.

Caresh cleared his throat. “Lord Vinton,” he announced.

A moment later, Helfer swept the curtain aside. Volle had a glimpse of brightly colored fabric before it fell into place again. “Volle!” He smiled and strode forward. “Glad you could make it for dinner.”

Volle flicked his ears back, grinning abashedly. “Well, I’m glad you could invite me.”

Helfer waved a paw, and Volle caught a faint scent of jasmine from him that he didn’t remember smelling previously. “It’s much better than dining alone, and I saved you from Dereath, I understand. Please, have a seat. Caresh, some mead please?”

While Caresh was fetching the mead, Volle sat down across from the weasel. “What is the problem with Dereath, anyway?”

“You seem to have figured it out without me telling you.”

“Yes, but he said there was some problem between he and you and he was worried you’d already mentioned it to me.”

Helfer tapped the goblet as Caresh returned and filled it. “It was a year ago,” he said. “Really, I’m not that upset about it. I just don’t want anything to do with the little sneak.”

“Can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know if I should. I mean, maybe he’s changed since then.”

“Oh, come on.” Volle grinned. “Pushy, clingy, stubborn…”

“All right, all right.” Helfer laughed. “He hasn’t changed that much. But first, to your health.” He raised his glass.

“Your health as well.” Volle followed suit, and took a drink of mead. It was surprisingly smooth, and warmed him more than the fire had.

Caresh left to bring dinner, and Helfer leaned back in his chair. “The whole thing with Dereath was pretty simple, really, but just totally soured me on him. Like I said, it was about a year ago, and he’d just started chasing males. He says that he’d just figured out that he liked males, but I suspect it was because he’d had no luck with the females.”

Volle chuckled and took another sip of mead. Helfer went on. “Everyone pretty much knows what I like. I don’t make a big secret about it. There aren’t many young nobles period, much less gay ones, so of course he came right after me like an arrow from a bow. At first I tried to be patient, you know, teach him about the etiquette, and where to go, and try to tell him not to be quite so pushy. As you noticed, he really didn’t get that lesson at all.

“But the real problem was that I found out after about a month that he’d been using his position—you know he works for Fardew, right? In Defense? Well, they’re also in charge of intelligence, inside Tephos and out. So he was using his information to find out where I went and what I did. I think he actually put one of the palace spies on me.”

“Good Fox. Er, Canis. Sorry. Ferrenian habit.” Volle flicked his ears. “He did say a couple things that sounded like he knew what my schedule was already.”

“He works fast. Probably found out that you went to the Jackal’s Staff with me last night. Hmm, I wonder if that means he’s still tailing me.” Helfer sighed. “I hope not.”

“I hope not too.” The sense of well-being the mead had fostered in him was rapidly dissipating. Although he’d been sent to spy on the Tephossians, it hadn’t occurred to him that they in turn might be spying on him. And that it was for personal reasons made it seem even more creepy. “Welcis—my personal servant—is trying to arrange a dinner party so he doesn’t get the idea I’m putting off his dinner invitation.”