Volle (47 page)

The taste was bad: squirrel musk, dirty fur, and a smell that Volle identified as a goat. The thought that Ullik hadn’t cleaned himself since his last encounter nearly made him throw up, and then the thought of vomiting on the squirrel’s groin almost made him laugh out loud. He settled for wagging his tail and kept at his unpleasant task until he felt the squirrel shiver and heard his wet panting deepen. Abruptly, he lifted his muzzle and looked up.

“Keep going!” Ullik said harshly.

“The book. Now.”

“Finish!”

“Once I’ve seen what I want to.”

Ullik glared at him, panting, then said, “Fine!” and opened the book and thrust it towards Volle.

“Thank you.” Volle needed only a couple seconds to read the last entry: 10 Tephossian Royals to 15 Terrialis guilders. For Secretary Prewitt. The confirmation of his suspicions, set out before him in Ullik’s neat handwriting, sickened him nearly as much as the foul taste in his muzzle.

“Done?” Volle nodded, and Ullik threw the book back on his desk. “Then finish!”

For a moment, Volle considered leaving the Exchequer in his current state, but he might need his good graces in the future, he reminded himself. He bent over and took the foul-tasting shaft into his muzzle again, bobbing and licking until the squirrel uttered a series of short grunts and thrust his wide hips against the fox’s muzzle. Volle felt the warm splash and foul taste on his tongue, and when he drew back, he saw the squirrel’s eyes on him.

Ullik wanted him to swallow, and when he saw Volle hesitate, reached out a paw. Volle twisted his muzzle away to one side and deliberately spat onto the floor. Standing, he looked Ullik in the eye. “You really should get a pot in here,” he said. “Thank you, Ullik.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned, unlocked the door, and left the office.

He spent the afternoon in the garden, wrapped in his cloak. The chilly air didn’t bother him as he paced around the rear garden, near the spot where he’d first met Xiller. The nearest bench was about fifty feet down the path, but he didn’t feel like sitting down anyway. The snow had blanketed the spot, making it difficult to distinguish details and smoothing the whole garden into a soft white sculpture. Volle didn’t need to see the bushes or smell the particular trees; he knew the spot by heart and paced up and down in front of it.

He walked around for nearly an hour, his paws chilling slowly in the snow, not thinking about much of anything. He didn’t want to think about Prewitt. He would tell Seir, of course—
Tella is especially anxious to know
—and then it would rest in their paws. He wasn’t thinking about Xiller, except peripherally. He wasn’t thinking about Ilyana. Mostly, he just wanted to be outside, breathing the fresh, cold air, alone.

He smelled the fox before he saw him, a hint carried on the breeze. He didn’t stop his pacing until he heard the crunch of snow, and then he turned. “Hello, Arrin.”

The fox was bundled up in a cloak, carrying something in his left paw. “Hi, Volle.” He stopped, tail swishing over the snow, about five feet away. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Volle shook his head. “What is it?”

“Here.” He held out his paw and uncurled it. Inside was a wrinkled set of papers. “You’ve been cleared. I asked to return your papers tonight. Prewitt is going to give you the official notification tomorrow and was going to do it then, but…” He shuffled his paws. “I asked to.”

Volle took them and checked them quickly, then stuffed them in his purse. “Thanks.” He looked away, but still caught the lowering of Arrin’s ears out of the corner of his eye.

“Listen, Volle, I’ve been thinking about…I don’t think you were right to ask what you did, but I didn’t answer properly either. I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. I mean, I should have supported you. So I think, maybe, we shouldn’t…shouldn’t go on. I don’t think it would work.”

Volle shook his head, still looking away from Arrin, his ears flicking at the sadness in the fox’s voice. “No, I don’t think so either.”

“I’m not trying to accuse you, or say you were wrong. Well, I think you were, but so was I. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” He sighed, his breath a puff of white in the air that hung for a moment before fading.

Volle folded his arms. He would not allow himself to feel guilty that he’d tried to take advantage of Arrin, because as a good spy, according to his newfound resolve, he had to live the role to himself as well as to others. Lying to Arrin in the name of his country was no sin. He did, however, want to mend fences. He genuinely liked the fox and didn’t want to make him more miserable than he had to. Being aloof and self-righteous now that he had been cleared had made enough of his point by now.

“I’d still like you to teach me music, if you have the time.” He favored the fox with a smile. “No reason we can’t be friends.”

“Yeah.” Arrin’s tail wagged and he smiled. “It’s just…you have this rat after you, and all these complications. I was thinking about that too. I don’t mind being your friend, though. I do think you’re a pretty nice fox.”

“Thanks,” Volle said drily. “I’m sorry about Dereath. That does make things more complicated. But you’re nice, too. And you probably deserve a less…exciting fox.”

Arrin grinned abashedly. “Maybe.”

“Has Dereath been to see you this week at all?”

“No. Should he have?”

“You know he brought those charges, right?”

“Oh. No, I didn’t.” His ears flicked. After a long pause, he said, “If I’d known…”

“You’d still have done the same thing.”

Arrin sighed. “Probably. I really don’t like that rat, though.”

“I don’t either. I think Prewitt’s going to have a long talk with him about bringing charges against a noble.”

Arrin’s ears came back up and his eyes glinted. “He won’t enjoy that.”

“I sincerely hope not. Maybe he’ll leave me alone now.”

“I hope so.” Arrin put a paw on his shoulder and then sighed. “I need to go. I promised my mother I’d come visit her. And anyway, it’s cold out here. How long have you been standing here?”

“A while. I like it.” Volle grinned toothily at him. “Go on, take care of your mother. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you for dinner sometime.” Arrin leaned close to brush his muzzle against Volle’s but he didn’t offer a kiss.

Volle brushed perfunctorily back and nodded. “Talk to Welcis.” He waved as the other fox retreated along the path. He felt only a touch of sadness; any chance at a relationship had vanished the other day in Arrin’s office. Mostly he felt relieved. Another complication had straightened itself out, and his life was a little bit simpler and easier. He took a deep breath of cold air and felt it spread into his lungs, and then walked quickly to the front gate and down to the park, simply because he could.

The next morning, clouds filled the sky and the air was warmer. The snow had melted enough to leave puddles of slush all through the garden, but the bushes still had white crowns. The stairs had been swept clean, so Volle’s paws remained dry as he watched Caresh load Helfer’s bags into the carriage. Helfer stood alongside him.

“Think it’ll all fit?” Volle asked as they watched Caresh secure a bag to the roof. “How much stuff do you need, anyway?”

“You’ve no idea what the laundry is like back there. I can’t wash anything or it will be completely ruined. They have no idea how to treat linen, let alone cotton. And then I have to dress differently to meet with the governor than I do to see my mother, or my potential brides, or my farmers. Really, packing is quite an ordeal. I’m more worried that I didn’t leave anything behind.”

“I don’t see how you could have,” Volle said. “I suspect if I went up to your chambers, I’d find them stripped bare.”

“You might find someone stripped bare, at least.” Helfer grinned and pressed a key into Volle’s paw. “Speaking of which, here. The door is locked while I’m gone, but if you need to use the chambers for some reason, you can.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t—”

“You would, and you can. Just be careful about it, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Hef.” Privately he resolved that he wouldn’t bring anyone in through Helfer’s entrance, because he had no idea who knew about it and who didn’t, and giving away secrets like that was abhorrent to him, though Helfer seemed to do it on a weekly basis.

Caresh had managed to fit the last of the bags into the carriage itself, and approached them. “The carriage is ready, sir. An early start would ensure us safe passage across the Otrine before nightfall.”

“Yes, yes.” Helfer turned to Volle. “If we get to the river at night, it’s dangerous. The other side is not so bad. Where’s that purse you wanted me to take?”

“Oh, here.” He handed Xiller’s purse to the weasel. “Ten gold Royals. Thanks a lot for doing this, Helfer.”

“It’s not a problem. Villutian’s right on my way. I’ll put the purse in their paws myself. The commander of the army should know where to find them, eh?”

Volle nodded. “I’m sure he’ll remember Xiller.”

Helfer gave him a warm, sad smile. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing.”

“It’s the right thing. Thanks for helping. I’d offer you money, but I think I’ll just find a nice rabbit for you when you get back.”

“You do that and I’ll not only deliver this myself, I’ll go back next year to make sure they spent it wisely.”

Volle laughed. “It’s a deal.” He hugged Helfer warmly. “Stay safe. See you in two weeks.”

Helfer nuzzled him and hugged back. “And you stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll do the best I can.” He waved as the weasel walked down the stairs and jumped into the carriage. Caresh bowed to Volle, then stepped in after his master. The door closed, and with a snap of his whip, the driver started the horses on their way.

Volle watched until the carriage had passed the front gate, and then followed it on foot. He walked down the street, which was busier than it had been for the past few days. The warmer weather and vanishing snow was bringing out some of the less cold-tolerant species, like the rabbits and weasels.

He made his way slowly to the cathedral, whose grey bulk loomed darkly against the light grey of the sky. Inside, it seemed slightly colder than outside, perhaps because there was no sun to warm the stone. He walked to the candle rack and lit two candles to replace the ones from the previous day, then knelt and said two prayers. He did see the Felid Cantor, but he appeared busy, and Volle didn’t really need to speak with him anyway.

For nearly an hour, he prayed, and then he left the cathedral. He walked around the palace and to the north, to some of the areas he hadn’t visited the previous day, again simply reveling in his freedom. When he finally returned to his chambers, Welcis told him that Prewitt had been by to see him in the morning and would call again the following morning. So Volle stayed in the next morning and waited, and about mid-morning, Welcis showed in the large golden bear, with a wolf trailing behind him.

“Secretary Prewitt and Lord Oncit,” Welcis announced as he closed the door.

Prewitt turned to the skunk when he walked in. “Welcis, I would like to speak to your master in private. Would you mind terribly waiting in the main hallway until we’re done?”

Volle nodded to Welcis’s inquiring glance. “Yes, sir,” the skunk said. He left immediately, closing the door behind him.

Volle flicked his ears. He was mildly surprised to see Oncit there with Prewitt. Seeing the bear stirred dark emotions in him; he couldn’t keep his ears from folding back, but he did lift them again quickly. If they noticed, they didn’t say anything. He watched them walk toward the chairs, the smaller wolf staying behind the bear, and he flexed his paws, fighting the urge to leap on Prewitt with claws and fangs bared. With some effort, he forced down the hatred and gestured to two nearby chairs. Neither offered any explanation for Oncit’s presence as they sat, and when he spoke, Prewitt started with the charges.

“We contacted the merchant, Lord Vinton, and I have word from Vinton that they did see a black fox pass through there some months ago. I am satisfied for the moment that the charges are groundless. I’ve dismissed them, and yesterday I had quite a long session with Lord Fardew and his clerk Dereath. I told him in no uncertain terms that to accuse a noble of treachery is a serious matter, and that if Fardew weren’t standing up for him, he would have been expelled from the palace.”

“Why is Fardew standing up for him?”

Prewitt shook his head. “I don’t know. I trust Fardew enough that I don’t want to get rid of his clerk without strong reason. But I let both of them know that one more transgression like this would be sufficient reason. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble from Talison for quite a while.”

“Thank you.” Volle felt relieved, though a part of him warned that Dereath wouldn’t give up, having come this far. He would resent this victory as he had the previous ones, and he might be less obvious about it, but he would keep looking for chinks in Volle’s armor.

Calm down, he told himself. Maybe he’ll just give up and go back to chasing guys who want nothing to do with him. But he couldn’t quite make himself believe that.

“So this is your official notification that the charges have been dropped. I believe your papers have already been returned to you.” Volle nodded. “Then that concludes the official portion of my visit.”