Volle (29 page)

“So you did. And I hear you’re doing a good job of it.”

“I’m trying.”

Helfer sat down, and Volle did the same. “Have a seat, won’t you? Cup of mead? It’s from my personal stock.”

“Certainly, thank you.” Xiller wedged his large frame into one of Helfer’s chairs and took the cup Caresh handed him, holding it steady while the fox poured mead into it. He took a sip, and then another. “This is delicious.”

Helfer smiled and nodded. “I know. Thank you. So what brings you to the palace?”

The cougar’s eyes slid to Volle, then down. “Oh, I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“Secret mission, eh? Exciting.” Helfer grinned at Volle. “More than just molesting a couple nobles?”

Xiller chuckled, unabashed. “That was just a side benefit.”

“May all your missions be as beneficial, then.” Helfer raised his cup, and the others joined him. “Seriously, good luck. I hope you get back soon. I haven’t seen the fox this happy ever before.”

Volle flicked his ears and looked down when Xiller looked at him. “He’s made me happy, too,” the cougar said softly. “I feel like I have a friend here.”

Helfer patted the large tawny paw that rested on the table. “I hope you feel like you have two. Though not necessarily in the same way.”

“Thanks.” Xiller downed the rest of his mead, and set the cup on the table. “Where are you from, Lord Ikling?”

“Vellenland. Hence the mead.” Helfer lifted his cup again. “Best in all the land. And yourself?”

“I don’t think I should talk about myself much.”

“Ah, well, there goes my plan of learning more about you. I think it is about time for you two to leave anyway, right, Volle?”

“Quarter til? Yes, we should be going. Thank you, Hef. I’ll see you in the morning.” He embraced the weasel as they stood, and Xiller shook his paw. Caresh showed them out.

Walking through the palace, Volle’s tail was wagging almost of its own accord. Even though it had been a short time, and they hadn’t talked about much, he was glad Helfer’d had a chance to meet Xiller. The two of them had seemed to get along pretty well, and that made him feel good enough to wag his tail.

Xiller noticed. “You and he are pretty good friends, eh?”

“Yeah. He really made me feel welcome here. We get along really well.”

“I’m glad I got to meet him more formally.” Xiller chuckled a deep chuckle.

Volle grinned. “I’m glad you got along.”

“He seems pretty nice. I wish I had more of a chance to get to know him.”

“Hopefully you will.”

They crossed the garden in silence and presented their papers to the guard on duty. He eyed Xiller, but didn’t say anything as he let them pass. The nocturnal traffic had started, making the streets busy, but the space around the cathedral was quiet and still. They took a moment to walk around it so Xiller could admire the graceful spires, the arch of the doorways and windows, and the many reliefs that crowded the outside. The cathedral predated the palace, and it showed: the palace’s outer walls were starkly functional, and the inner, though painted nicely and decorated around the windows, were not nearly as elaborate as the baroque lines and numerous detailed animal heads that decorated the large edifice.

Volle remembered his first impression of the cathedral as austere and forbidding, when he’d thought it was the symbol of the repressive Orthodox church. After going to services, he had softened his views somewhat, for although the building was still grey stone, with many impressive sculptures, candles illuminated many colorful frescoes inside the walls, and the services were generally welcoming and uplifting. He had never looked this closely at it in the moonlight, and he found that the loss of color made the building less friendly, but more impressive. Lit by the stark silver light, the faces of the animals seemed more mysterious, as though they might really be the ancestors or even the gods, caught in a frozen moment. Their expressions were benevolent, for the most part: peaceful, contemplative, and smiling, but here and there a terrified or furious visage stood out among the others.

The church by day, the church by night, the church during services: all these were aspects of the cathedral, just as each of the reliefs was. Each single relief had its own characteristics, its own message to convey, and provoked a particular sensation in the viewer. Each was different from each other and from the whole, Volle thought, and yet they came together fluidly to express that yes, all these individuals were indeed part of the world. The silver light and deep black shadows seemed to him to underscore the importance of remaining on Gaia’s path, and yet the overall lines of the church reached upward without straining, extending the inclusion to Gaia’s World and promising that they would be lifted from this earth, in time.

Xiller was as entranced as he was, but rather than standing still, he paced back and forth, examining the reliefs in silence. His tail, usually so active, was held almost perfectly still behind him. Volle shifted his attention from the cathedral to the cougar, watching his rapt examination of the stonework and feeling the wonder he was feeling. He imagined how the cathedral must look to someone who had really been raised in a small farm town, and felt echoes of Xiller’s delight and amazement.

The cougar’s eyes were wide when he turned back to Volle. He padded to the fox’s side and whispered, “It’s amazing.”

Volle nodded, smiling. “They did things differently back then. Much bigger.”

Xiller shook his head. “We have an old church in our town, but it’s crumbling and covered with moss and stuff. We don’t even go there anymore. For services, anyway. The kids still play in it. This is just…this is so much different.”

“Yeah.” The cathedral in Caril was prettier and more open, but Volle saw this cathedral as more solid and reassuring. It stands apart from the people, he thought, welcoming them in but remaining above them, where the Caril cathedral strove to be a part of them. He got the sensation that should the people abandon it, the cathedral in Caril would fall quickly into decay; this cathedral, similarly abandoned, would endure.

“We’re supposed to go in the side,” he said softly to Xiller, indicating a walkway around the corner of the cathedral. The cougar followed him down the unevenly lit path, pausing every now and then to admire another detail of the stonework on the sides of the cathedral. When they reached the door, Volle opened it slowly and peered inside.

The church was dark, lit only by a few stations of candles around the periphery. Both Volle and Xiller could see perfectly well by that small light, and stood just inside, looking around as the door closed behind them. The space inside the cathedral seemed somehow larger than it looked on the outside, perhaps because the ceiling was dim with shadows. Wooden pews filled the floor in six groups, and the six stations where the Cantors stood looked very different, wreathed in shadows as they were. A few furred shapes occupied some of the pews, and the murmured sound of praying was an undertone in the cathedral.

As they looked around, the bells in the tower above them tolled nine slowly. Xiller’s ears folded back briefly; the sound was much louder in here than it was outside. Slowly, he brought them back up again, looking up with an awed expression. Volle kept his down the whole time; the loud sound made his ears ring otherwise.

The last stroke had barely faded when a quiet voice said near them, “Welcome, my cub, and my brother’s cub.”

They turned to find the Felid Cantor standing to one side, smiling, his ears lowered as well. He carried a book under one arm and was dressed in the same priestly robes he’d worn that morning.

“Hello, my father’s brother,” Volle said. “Thank you again for disturbing your schedule.”

“Thank you,” Xiller echoed, a little awestruck.

“My children, I merely do the work of Felis and Gaia. Come this way.”

They followed him down the side of the cathedral towards the front. The decorations were all Felid here, but Volle noted that all were tapestries and statues that could easily be moved; indeed, some showed signs of movement. The frescoes were less specific, being mostly scenes of the Creation and Birth of the six Houses. He guessed that with the succession to the throne of a certain House, that House was placed at the front of the cathedral, or at least the part closest to the street, as the Ursid decorations dominated the entrance and surrounding area.

The Cantor led them behind a curtain, and Volle was surprised to find a small chapel there, complete with two short pews and a Cantor station, smaller than the large ones in the main building, but unmistakable. The bobcat drew the curtain back and then closed a door behind it. He stepped up into the station and arranged his book, while Volle and Xiller took their place on the pews.

He looked down at them. “My cubs, welcome home. Let us pray.”

The service was similar to the morning’s, except that the songs seemed much more personal to Volle. He joined in at the Cantor’s urging, and the three of them sang two hymns: one that was particularly Felid, called “With Clawless Paws,” and of course, the “Our Mother,” though they only sang two of the parts to it. Volle’s baritone melded nicely with Xiller’s bass and the Cantor’s pleasant tenor, and when they ended, the Cantor said, “Go into the world, and the world goes with you.”

“Gaia’s blessing on you,” they replied, and stood, shaking paws to end the service.

“Thank you again, Cantor,” Xiller said with a huge smile, shaking the priest’s paw.

“Bless you, my cub,” the priest replied. “I am glad to help you praise Gaia and Felis.”

Volle had brought a small purse with five gold pieces in it, and pressed it into the priest’s paw. “Here, father’s brother,” he said. “Please take this to the orphanage with my compliments.”

“Bless you, my brother’s cub,” the bobcat said, sliding the purse into a pocket of his robe. “Go with Gaia, both of you.” He smiled and opened the door, and slipped out through the curtain.

Xiller clasped both of Volle’s paws in his, and kissed the fox firmly on the muzzle. “And thank you, for arranging this. None of the others thought it would be important for me to attend a service, even though I told them I wanted to.”

“It was important to you, so it was important to me.” Volle kissed him back and smiled, his tail already wagging. “Let’s head back home.”

Xiller’s tail curled around his and then slid off. “Yes, let’s.”

They walked arm in arm back to the palace, strolling slowly through the night. Back in Volle’s chambers, they made their way to the bedroom and undressed each other in the soft moonlight. They nuzzled each other, and their muzzles sought each other out.

At the touch of the cougar’s tongue, Volle felt weak again. He sagged in Xiller’s arms, and the cougar supported him, carrying him over to the bed and laying him down on his back. He smiled at the cougar as the long legs straddled his form, admiring the lithe grace with which the muscular body moved, and the large sheath that rested on his stomach as the cat straddled him. He brushed a paw gently along it, and up the waiting erection.

Xiller’s rear rubbed over Volle’s matching hardness. “Up for something a little different tonight?”

Volle pushed upwards. “Can’t you tell?” He smiled, tail wagging against the bed.

“I sure can.” The cougar licked his lips, then leaned over to lick Volle’s.

Volle kissed him back, and reached paws up to Xiller’s sides to pull the cougar down against him. His heart was beating fast again, and he could feel every beat in his ears, his chest, and his maleness. He could feel the heat and heart of the cougar too, as their bodies pressed close. His arms clasped the strong body tightly to him, and his paws ruffled the short fur down the crease of the cougar’s spine and rump. Their heartbeats sounded loud in his ears and then merged and became indistinguishable. Volle felt so much a part of him then that the later joining, as wonderful as it was when it happened, seemed almost a formality.

Chapter 13

He woke before Xiller again, and discovered that he had squirmed out of the cougar’s embrace at some point during the night. The morning’s light was coming in at an angle through the window, so the curves of the cougar’s body appeared as a rough silhouette against the bright wall. He reached out and drew a finger across the tawny fur.

Xiller’s eyelids fluttered and then opened. He looked at the fox and smiled. “Morning.”

“Hi.”

A large paw draped itself over Volle’s hip. “Sleep okay?”

“Great. You?”

“Mm.”

“You have another full day?” The cougar nodded slowly. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“I’ll be here.”

Volle brushed the short fur down Xiller’s side, enjoying the cat’s purr. “You don’t have to tell me what you’re doing, but I’m just curious how you got picked for it.”

“I volunteered.” The cat smiled. “My dad used to read me the stories about Makale, and I loved them. You know, the great cougar hero who served with King Kohai? I don’t know if foxes get the same stories.”

Volle smiled. “I was brought up on stories of Granzer, the great wolf who rallied his regiment to hold back the Crivens at Vista Pass. There aren’t many heroic foxes in the legends. But I’ve heard of Makale and Kohai, of course.”

“My family sent me to the army when I was twelve. I had the body and skill for it even that young. And what I wanted more than anything was to be in the service of the King, taking on his enemies with my sword, earning glory in his name. I bothered the commander every month once I’d been appointed an officer, and finally last month he told me he had a mission for me.”

Volle touched his chest. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” He puffed his chest out. “I’m the second youngest officer ever in Villutian.”

“That’s where you’re from?” Xiller’s expression fell. Volle laughed softly and kissed him. “It’s all right. I won’t tell. So you must be excited about this mission.”

“Kind of. It’s not exactly what I’d pictured. More sneaking than anything else. But they said I’d be in line to do more heroic things later if I did well at this.”

Volle smiled. He was reminded of Maron’s words from two days before, and hoped Xiller wasn’t in for the same bitter disillusionment. “I’m sure you’ll be a great hero.”

“You think so? I hope so.”

“Just be true to yourself. You’ve certainly done a good job catching a fox.”

Xiller grinned and brushed his paw across Volle’s chest. “Oh, that’s not heroic. That’s—what’s this?” He rubbed at something on Volle’s chest.

The place he was rubbing was a bit sore. “I don’t know.”

Xiller leaned closer and sniffed at his paw, then Volle’s chest. “I think it’s blood. I must have pushed my claws out deeper than I meant to, the other night.” He looked up contritely, ears down. “I didn’t even notice, yesterday. Sorry.”

Volle smiled. “I didn’t notice either. It’s okay. You used your other weapon quite well.”

“I certainly didn’t meet a lot of resistance.”

Volle shook his head. “I was awed by its mighty power.”

Xiller laughed and pulled him into a warm embrace. He returned it happily, tail pushing against the sheets as he wagged it.

Over his morning run, he realized he’d forgotten to tell Helfer about his dinner with Lord Oncit. Once he had, Helfer shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve never met him, personally. Doesn’t sound like he wants to sleep with you, though that would’ve been my first guess since he sent his servant and wife away.”

“That’s what I thought too, but it definitely wasn’t that.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s just lonely and wants someone to play chess with.”

“Could be.”

“It’s nice to have friends around here.”

“Glad I met you,” Volle said sincerely, and Helfer chuckled.

“Yeah, me too. Glad I sought you out, I should say. I haven’t really had anyone to pal around with in a while.”

They ran on in silence for a while, until Helfer said, “I guess you’re not going to the Jackal’s Staff tonight, then?”

“No, it’s his last night. He leaves tomorrow morning.”

“Too bad. I’ll say hi to Richy for you.”

Volle grinned. “I’ll see him next week.”

“I’ll tell him that.”

They chatted for the rest of the run lightheartedly, and Volle took a quick bath before dressing and going to lunch. He didn’t see Lord Oncit there, and realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the wolf at lunch, though he had been at services the previous day. Ikinna and Ryshko weren’t there either. He ate with a couple other nobles he knew slightly, talked about the weather and when the first snow would fall, and then set off to spend an afternoon walking around the town.

His wanderings took him to the park, where he saw a statue of a fierce lion warrior. He’d seen it many times before, but never really looked at it, and today, it reminded him of Xiller. He smiled, wondering who had carved it and why. The muscles were well done, and the armor was similar to Xiller’s. Only the flowing mane was different; no doubt that was why the statue was here in a park rather than in the palace gardens or in a noble’s chambers. The maned lions all lived across the arid southwestern deserts, according to the stories, and there was a history of enmity between them and Tephos. This was probably a trophy brought back by some long-forgotten army, judging by its age.

The expression and the active pose spoke to why it was still on display, however. The lion’s jaws were open in a defiant roar, and there was a hole in the curve of his paw that had probably once held a sword. His other arm bore a shield, but it was swept out to the side rather than held in against the body. The heroism in the pose more than anything else was what made Volle think of Xiller.

He sat down near the statue and rested his muzzle in his paws. The cougar was leaving tomorrow, and Volle was going to have to let him go. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he knew he could do it. The fabric of his life had become a complicated one, and he couldn’t let a single encounter disturb it. He had too many duties to too many people, and he couldn’t afford to be impulsive—as impulsive as he had been the last few days, he reminded himself guiltily.

For a moment, he contemplated throwing it all away to accompany Xiller on his mission. The romance and simplicity of it appealed to him, for though he recognized the complexity of his life, he didn’t necessarily enjoy it all the time. Pretending to be someone else could be fun, but without a break it became arduous, especially when he had to pose as several different people at different times and remember which was which. He’d been trained for it and was good at it, but he was good at knife fighting, too; that didn’t mean he sought it out. He was important but not critical to anyone. Seir and Tish and Helfer and Arrin and Ilyana would all get along without him if he ran away.

He let himself wander into romantic fantasies wherein he and Xiller would be an unbeatable espionage team, hiring themselves out to the highest bidder, undertaking dangerous missions by day and romantic escapades by night. The fantasies brought a smile to his muzzle even as he realized how impossible they were. No, when the morning came, he would have to bid the cougar good-bye and face the upcoming months not knowing when he would see him again, if ever. He would have to hold the memory of their time together to his heart, in case it never came around again.

There would be Arrin, and there would be Ilyana, but they and even Richy would pale next to the memories of these few days. It was strange, he thought, that only a week ago, leaving services, he’d been thinking how his life here was going better than he’d imagined it might, and now he was lamenting the sacrifices he had to make for it. He smiled at himself and lay back with his eyes closed, enjoying the sunlight that warmed his fur despite the chill air.

When the sun had sunk low in the sky, he wandered down to a row of short houses and walked around the back, where each house had a small yard that was shared by all the inhabitants. The thick wooden fence behind the third house hid him from sight, allowing him to bend down and lift a loose cobblestone. Underneath it was a small folded piece of paper on which Sherr had written in his neat slanted handwriting, “Investigate Oncit further.”

Volle read the note while walking down the rest of the alley. If anyone had been watching, they might think he had only paused to adjust his trouser leg, or pick a stone out of his toes. When he’d read the terse instructions, he chewed the note into a pulpy mass and spit it into the gutter. The ink left a sour taste in his muzzle, so he stopped by the nearest pub and ordered a cup of wine, which he lapped slowly as the shadows grew over the city.

He was hungry by the time he headed back to the palace, so he headed straight for the common dining area and took a plate of spicy duck to a table. A few minutes later, Lord Black, who was in a jovial mood, joined him. He explained to Volle that he’d expected to lose some income this year as a result of an infestation of locusts in his land’s fields (the proliferation of insects was why his lands were called ‘Black,’ but the locusts were a rare plague on top of everything else), but as it turned out, his resourceful farmers had harvested the locusts and cooked them with the help of some of the elders in the town. They now had plenty of food for the winter, and had enough to sell to neighboring lands besides. The rodents especially considered the locusts quite delicious. He was having some trouble with the herbivores, because plants were scarce, but he thought they could easily trade a few bushels of preserved locusts for enough vegetables to get through the winter.

Volle had eaten locusts as a child, he vaguely recalled, but all he could remember about them was that they were “crunchy.” He was glad to accept the raccoon’s invitation to come over and try a jar, when the farmers sent some up. He promised to drag Helfer along, too, and they discussed strategies for getting the finicky weasel to try one. Eventually the strategies became more and more outlandish, and Volle was still chuckling when he bid Black goodnight and wandered back to his chambers.

The smell of cougar was old in the parlor and also in the bedroom. Welcis was asleep and Xiller was nowhere to be found. Volle sighed, undressed, and crawled into bed to wait. Every moment that passed brought some small worry that Xiller had already left without saying good-bye. He wouldn’t want to, of course, but maybe he’d been forced to.

Volle had just about resigned himself to never seeing the cougar again when he heard movement in the parlor. He hadn’t heard the door open, but he heard it close. His bedroom door inched open slightly, and a figure stepped through.

It was Xiller’s height, and moved like a cat. Volle sat up, about to say ‘where have you been,’ and then froze. Jaguar’s spots were clearly visible on the naked body.

The jaguar moved towards him, and he was a second from crying out when the scent caught up to him and he recognized Xiller. “What happened to you?” he whispered.

He pirouetted for Volle, his spotted tail flowing gracefully around him like a ribbon. He was spotted all over, and the spots were expertly done. “It’s my disguise,” he whispered back. “Like it?”

Volle reached out to brush the fur around a spot. “You look like a jaguar,” he said. His fingers didn’t smear the spot when he touched it. “But your fur won’t match.”

“The fur’s yellow. You just can’t see it. It took them all day.” Xiller wiggled his rear and then turned, grinning.

“I can see one place they didn’t do,” Volle said, reaching out with a smile.

Xiller purred at the touch and then leapt onto the bed, landing astride Volle. His eyes looked down into the fox’s. “I wasn’t supposed to be here. They wanted me to stay in the pub and not be seen. But I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”

“I’m glad.” Volle lifted his muzzle and they kissed, slowly and tenderly.

When they broke apart, Xiller settled beside him with a smile. “You knew what I was. I’d never seen a jaguar. I guess you grew up in the south?”

Volle had seen the occasional jaguar in Caril. He found them exotic but also very aloof and stuck-up. “I saw one in town once,” he said vaguely. “On his way north to the city.”

“There’s so many creatures here I’d never seen in our little town. White foxes, golden bears…I haven’t seen a jaguar, though. I wish I had. I’d know how to act then.”

“Act like you’re better than everyone else,” Volle grinned. “That should about do it.” He brushed a spot again. “Won’t this come off if you bathe?”

Xiller shook his head. “It bonds to the fur somehow.”

“Even in a water bath?”

The cougar nodded. “There’s a special cream that removes it. They gave me a bit of it, but it’s outside with my other things.”

“Really.” Volle stroked the cougar’s chest. This was news that Sherr would find interesting. The Tephossians had the fur pigment. Most likely they’d stolen it from the Ferrenians. He grinned widely as he thought of one way he could make sure. Conveniently enough, it didn’t require him to change any of his plans for the evening.

He rolled over and pressed his chest and hips against Xiller, draping an arm over his chest. He licked the cougar’s short spotted muzzle and smiled. “Let’s say good-bye properly.”

Xiller kissed him once, then again with more passion. His eyes reflected starlight. “I thought you’d never ask.”