Chapter 29
Two Wolves
Sigh to the stars, as wolves howl to the moon... -Manfred, by Lord Byron
Lorelei could see that Gystra had changed much since she had left it two decades ago.
There were still docks along the Udso, but now the harbour brimmed with the noise of transaction and bargaining. Otters hauled crates from ships while shrews conversed with mice about prices, all while woodlander and vermin soldiers stood as still as possible as they waited for their shifts to end.
Those same blue-clad beasts had come out of the city to serve as her escorts or guards. The Gystrans would not look kindly to noblebeasts from foreign shores, whether Otharnic or Laskarine, roaming the city as if they owned the entire place, so even though they were unlikely to cause trouble, a token guard was needed to keep appearances up.
Lorelei was assigned a scrawny young stoatmaid, who kept to himself all of the time. It was the way the otter liked it – she did not see much reason to be drawn into random conversations with beasts she knew little or even nothing about.
As Rayne kept her distance from her, the princess afforded herself some time to look at the statues on the structure the locals called Stone Bridge. There were four stone squirrels on one side, facing just as many otters on the other. Approaching the last lutrine sculpture, Lorelei looked up at Lamont's face, wincing at his proud gaze and his wry smile. The former she was familiar with – Erlend shared that with his brother. The latter, on the other paw, she had never seen from him.
"You're here too?" asked Sigurd. Seated alone next to the statue of his uncle, it appeared that he had successfully avoided his guard as well.
"So I am." Lorelei nudged herself closer to her husband's son as she too sat down. "Wonderful work of architecture, hm? Southswarder masonry may be frightfully conventional, but this bridge shall surely stand the test of time."
"It would take much time and even more money to see Travrik catch up to our neighbours to the west in this matter." Sigurd turned as he spat into the river below, narrowly missing a barge. "Do you see the gatehouses at either end of this bridge?" He grimaced after seeing Lorelei nod. "I took a great long look at them, and they have no weaknesses I can see."
"And the walls outside them concern you as well, no doubt?"
"Indeed. It appears that my father's dream of a Travrik from the Udso to the Eastern Sea is very much dead."
"Have you got a different dream then?"
Sigurd shrugged. "I suppose both Father and I are extensions of Kaldos, nothing more. If it befits the beasts of Kaldos to declare your son as Father's heir and not me, I'll gladly pack my bags and go find someplace to live – someplace that would accept my sisters and mother. Kalopolis in Laskaros, maybe. Rissos spoke highly of it."
"That's because it's his job to do so, pup," muttered Lorelei. The younger otter did not object to the manner Lorelei had called him – if he did he would have complained on the overland journey across the Glorr and the sturdy Briscan road known as the Via Borealis.
"I realise that. I'm just worried that your father would see us as illegitimate interlopers… and who knows what you're thinking? You have a bit of your father inside you. Like me. I am very sure about it."
Lorelei's eyes narrowed. "In what regard?"
"You've both got strong wills that neither iron nor gold can break or bend. Oh, and even before I knew of your ability to walk through dreams, I knew both of you possessed some sort of foresight, if you know what I mean."
The elder otter's arms crossed. "And what do you think he has that I do not?"
"A detailed understanding of what goes inside the head of others, an eerie ability to cosy up to everybeast, and finally…" He pointed up at Lamont's proud head. "A smile."
Lorelei shrugged. "I suppose I need to start working on that."
"You have time. But what you do have is a deep focus, as hot as a blazing fire, as sharp as a polished sword. It is directed towards your realm and its health. If the emperor has one, it is pointed towards something else I am unable to ascertain."
"I doubt he has. He's a dreamer."
"So are we all – before I was to wed, Father said that dreams move the world like winds move the clouds, in a manner beasts simply do not see. After we met I saw that his words had taken on another meaning."
"He does not need to know a single thing. He's been burdened with much already."
"Of this I agree."
The two otters sat on the bridge for another few moments as Lorelei's eyes turned west towards the sunset. The sky blazed with red and orange and yellow, and all around the princess beasts were packing up their wares and returning to their houses, while various carts made their way east and west, vacating the city entirely. Before she could determine whether the barges were going north or south Sigurd tapped her on the shoulder, inviting her to look at something he was pointing at.
"Is that a wolf?"
The older otter's eyes sprung open as a huge patch of black fur entered her vision. The creature looked a bit like a fox, yes, but everything about him appeared to be much bigger. Lorelei was short for an otter, but the newcomer would dwarf even the likes of Sigurd and his father.
"Do you want to speak with him?"
"I suppose I could do that – I do not have anything better to do."
Sigurd vaulted off the side of the bridge in one leap, while Lorelei took her time descending. Clutching each other's paws to avoid being separated by the dispersing market crowds of the city, she followed the taller otter as his eyes stayed trained on the wolf.
The wolf turned into a narrow alley, and the pair pushed themselves through a small crowd. The white houses, built out of the limestone carved from the quarries on the Southswarder side of the river, crowded together, and the more she walked the less Lorelei recognised her surroundings.
The journey took much longer than the princess expected. When Sigurd finally raised up his paw and tapped the wolf's shoulder, Lorelei's legs felt thoroughly sore – the next time they were alone she would demand Sigurd not to go so quickly.
"Oh?" asked the wolf, turning his massive body around.
"Good evening. I'm Sigurd Streambattle, and could I ask a few questions?"
A pair of lupine eyes gleamed in excitement. "Oh? You can, of course, as long as you answer mine. I'm tired of the locals trying to avoid me like I'm some sort of terrible sickness!" The wolf's ears perked up. "I'm Sarno, the Third Traveller."
"Are there more of you?" asked Sigurd, clearly curious. "Is there a Fourth, or a Fifth?"
"Well, when I left for up north there were just three, and I don't see any reason that the Pack of Packs would send more if we don't return with information."
"North, eh?" asked Lorelei. "You're one of the Southwolves. My father spoke well of your kind."
"That is what the inhabitants of Valence call us," said Sarno, "though I haven't seen a Northwolf from around these parts. Might have to go much further than here."
"You would be correct," replied the otter.
Sarno nodded as he turned his head to Sigurd. "What's your mother's name? I don't think she mentioned it to me."
Sigurd chuckled awkwardly. "She's not my mother, actually."
"I reasoned she didn't birth you – I keep forgetting that adoption is not an otter custom! A thousand apologies on my part. I just guessed from the scent. You clearly hold each other with affection, and there's the difference in age, and I jumped to conclusions."
"Do not worry about that, Sarno," said Lorelei. "What questions do you have to ask of us?"
"Well, first of all," the traveller sniffed the air. "It's getting cold, and I know you locals can't deal with it as well as I do. Why do we not find somewhere to take shelter?"
Swift nods followed from both otters.
It was still not dark when the trio returned to their residence. As amusing as it would be to see her handlers' faces engulfed in panic, Lorelei decided to tell them about the situation before she made her way towards the building they had been asked to stay in.
The Greater Castle of Gystra greatly predated Lamont's period ruling the city. Founded as a Southswarder deterrent to any Travrikan attempt to cross the Udso, it sat atop the hill overlooking the west side of the city. It was founded for naught – the many Travrikan princes fought each other for a century, leaving no time or resources to go on westward adventures. After order was restored by the Southswarders and the first Erlend Streambattle a newer, smaller castle was built on the eastern side of the river, and most military duties were moved there, allowing Lamont to make himself very comfortable by transforming the fortress into a structure that resembled a palace more than a fortification, much like those of his nominal overlords in Floret.
Like Redwall Abbey the Greater Castle was cobbled together with sandstone that was taken from nearby quarries, but unlike the abbey this palace's rocks were more yellow than red. Despite that, the hues of the stones still blazed mightily as the setting sun shone on them, rendering it a mighty giant that watched over the closer side of the river.
Unlike Kaldos, Gystra's Streambattle residence was completely and utterly opulent. Carpets of colourful silk warmed the winter floor, while banners and tapestries covered the walls, trapping badly needed heat in every room. Through Lorelei's trek back to Sigurd's room she saw at least five patterns of bells and nine of serpents, the emblems of the realm and the city. But every now and then there was a wolf, black or white, lurking amongst the curtains or quilts, and Sigurd had to tell Sarno to move onward and have his questions answered once they were no longer monitored as closely. Being suspected of plotting against the squirrelking was obviously undesirable, but Lorelei suspected that the wolf's indiscretion would simply embarrass Erlend's son. After all, she too had been his age.
Finally the doors to the room were flung open, and the otters allowed Sarno to sit on the bed. The chairs were simply not designed for a beast his weight.
"So," said Sigurd, taking off his overcoat and hanging it on the chair closer to him. "What brings you here to Gystra?"
"The Southwolves needed me to scout ahead," said Sarno, sitting up as primly as possible, and not letting his ears drop. "You've heard of the stories, right? About this coast being home to wolves before–"
"The Plague of Gelasius," interrupted Lorelei, remembering her history lessons. It was one of the earliest depictions of an epidemic in Oldspeak, a disease that gripped the bowels of wolves more than any other species.
Sarno's black head dipped. "We call it 'The Sword we Could not See'. By the time it ended only us in the mountains survived, having sealed ourselves away to prevent the contagion. We had lost most of our population and almost all of our knowledge, as we were left destitute by disease, and the many wars that followed. We even lost the ability to write our own tongue until the Briscans gave it back to us."
"But now you're thinking of coming back out, right?"
The wolf nodded with enthusiasm. "As peacefully as possible. When Kiordan Skyward took Valence we offered him our friendship, and he had given us rights and privileges… but he tried to force us into fighting in his armies."
"The word 'force' is perhaps too strong a term, wolf," said Lorelei. "It was more of an offer."
The traveller's eyes narrowed. "You seem to know a bit about us."
"I was there when the emperor met your kind. I am Lorelei, daughter and heir to Kiordan."
The wolf's ears perked up as he sprung up onto his footpaws. "Is that so?"
Lorelei curtly nodded as she flicked a thumb over her ring and drew on Thaumaturgy, ready to release and split the ground beneath him the instant he tried something on her, but she was taken aback by the haste with which he got onto his knees.
"Many apologies, Your Grace." Sarno's head dipped. "I was misinformed – I thought the Princess was, um, a bit taller!"
"No, I'm as short as my father is. And please get back on your feet, would you?" Seasons Above, now I have to deal with two etiquette-obsessed wolves…
Sarno did as bidden. "I was the wolf we sent across the sea. There's some sort of gathering happening here, right? I've heard the names of a few lords while I was preparing for plays and all that."
"My uncle will be hosting a gathering in the city," said Sigurd. "Nobles around this area will discuss how to prolong the peace around this area. There will be feasts, plays and tournaments while beasts with the right blood wrangle about lands, coins and inheritances."
"That sounds expensive," mused the wolf. "But as long as beasts enjoy it I'm sure they won'tcomplain that much."
Lorelei tilted her head to the side. "If you want to, we can put you up as an official envoy for the Southwolves. Then you could come into contact with important beasts who can help your kind."
Sarno's tail wagged. "That is very kind of you, Your Highness, but I already have commitments. I have the role of a false wolf to play. Besides, you otters enjoy your etiquettes, do you not? I would not be able to catch up with all of that."
"I suppose you are correct," responded Sigurd. "But if you run into trouble you can find us for help."
"I shall keep that in mind!"
A paw gently rapped on the door before it was swung open.
"I'm sorry," huffed Hirsent. "I thought you were still around the bridge, and went to find-"
She was interrupted by the sound of Sarno's paws rubbing with joy. "I didn't know there's another wolf here!"
Through the Bond they shared Lorelei felt a surge of embarrassment from the wolfess. Her cheeks burned with awkwardness, and her ears lay flat across her head. This was going to be interesting.
"Oh, good evening I suppose. My name is Hirsent."
"Good evening. I'm Sarno, the Third Traveller. May I have the honour of your scent?"
"What do you mean?" asked Hirsent.
"Could I sniff your rear?"
"...No?"
"Ah, sorry. So you're sniffing mine?"
"No!"
"I don't understand, is something the matter?" asked Sarno.
Hirsent's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Why would you propose such an improper act?"
This time it was Sarno that shot her a confused look.
"It's a wolven custom! You put your tail to the side, and I, being the guest and thus the giver of honour, would turn behind you and give you a good sniff. How come you don't know that, when you yourself are from the mountains?"
"Erm, no! Nothing of the sort! I was born here, and…" Hirsent let out a nervous chuckle. "I'd like to give it a pass. You can keep your rear back there, as it is, please. And I really must be going now." Without another word she turned and left.
"I see," muttered the male wolf and turned to Hirsent. "That was awkward."
"Oh, I do know. Believe me." Lorelei chuckled with amusement.
After Sarno left to return home to prepare for his performances, Sigurd decided to write back to Kaldos with information about his current whereabouts and conditions, leaving Lorelei to wander around the castle and search for Hirsent.
The corridors are starting to look all the same, thought the otter as the tapestries started to blend together in her mind. There were a few windows of stained glass depicting legends, both Southswarder and Travrikan in origin, but these were starting to get rarer and rarer as she descended into the palace's bowels.
"Of course I'm not going to wear those!" complained a voice, and Lorelei tensed. What was Rissos doing down here?
"Trust me, it helps with the cold," said Skuli. From the candlelight Lorelei saw the ferret waving something around, but she could not make out what it was in the shadows.
"Undergarments are distracting," said the rat as he grimaced, seizing what Lorelei thought was the offending clothing. "It's a lutrine invention."
"And you have a problem with that?"
"I assume it fits too tightly to my, um, nethers," answered Rissos, whiskers shaking in the lamplight. "I am an emissary, and so cannot afford to be distracted… which is what this infernal device was created for."
"At least it keeps the insides warm."
"Too warm. Keeping too much fire inside me would cause this rat to act out. I'm not a beast like you. You could just talk with scholars, lie with emperors and remove yourself from the City. I am only interested in the first of the three."
A tense silence fell upon the corridor as Skuli's tail swung from one side to the other. Finally, though, he spoke. "Could you imagine having to attend to him whenever he asks? One does not simply refuse what Gregorios orders."
"And one does not simply complain about one's duty, especially if it grants one power beyond that which the average beast could receive." Rissos shrugged. "But here we are. You wish to be like my father, perhaps. Always in the eyes of the powerful, but never asked to do what he cannot— but we have different paths to walk."
More silence followed before Rissos shivered, disliking the cold and what it did to his body. "When I return I shall tell His Radiance that you are well, and that your sons are well." Thrusting the pair of undergarments back into Skuli's paw, the rat bowed. "Eighteen seasons have passed since you two last met, and now His Radiance has no use for these anymore."
The rat could only walk a few steps before he almost collided with Lorelei. "Sorry," he muttered, backing up against the wall.
"Interesting discussion, hm?" asked the otter, glancing at what the ferret held. "About something so petty?"
"An evil custom," muttered Rissos, "for any good Laskarine. Skuli here dresses like an otter, but– and I mean no offence – I see no reason to dress like all beasts of your kind."
"Not all otters do," replied Lorelei as she gave her diminutive body a slow look.
The rat took the hint. "Your father was raised by my kin, and evidently his line bears some of our customs. I had forgotten, and I apologise."
"Good." Lorelei turned her head to the ferret and back to Rissos again. "Have you two seen Hirsent? Is she in her room?"
"She was not assigned a room," answered Rissos.
Skuli gave a brisk nod. "Heard she was going to stay in your quarters instead."
Hurriedly thanking the pair, Lorelei turned and marched off in the direction from which she came.
Lorelei's room was great in size, and when she took off her shoes she could feel that the carpet was warm as well. The glass windows pointed out into the courtyard of the castle, where shrubs rested beneath the dim light of candles and the opaque reflections of limp banners.
The otter found Hirsent on the master bed, scanning through the open pages of her book.
"I'm sorry," the wolf dipped her head. "About earlier. I did not know that there was another wolf, and I think if the more he knows about the real Hirsent, the more questions he would want to ask, and the more uncomfortable we would all be."
"I'm more bothered by the fact that you're in my bed instead of your own," said Lorelei, pointing at a cot on the far side of the room. "This is perhaps a bit too good for you."
Hirsent's ears folded. "And that is perhaps a bit too small for me, don't you think?"
The otter nodded, her mind focusing on the journey to Kaldos and how Hirsent's thick pelt helped block her from wind and rain as they huddled together for sleep. "You may stay there for the moment then – we aren't unused to sharing space anyway."
The wolf's ears raised as she put down her book. "Your father is close by."
"How close?"
"He'll be here tomorrow, but he's already resting in a village on this shore. I expect any entrance he makes to be grand. Somewhat over-the-top, perhaps."
"As usual," mused Lorelei. That part of her father clung to him like mud even before her parents met. "Do I have a role to play? I assume I do – Father always…"
"You can go out to meet him. You should, in fact."
Lorelei could feel her rudder twitch. "Why?"
"Because he misses you. Kiormund can only be so filial when you're not around."
"I suppose I could go see my son. How is his Thaumaturgy training progressing?"
Hirsent shook her head. "You assume that it has been progressing at all."
"All the more reason to put some time into him then." Lorelei shook her coat off and placed it on an armchair. "Is he doing well?"
"As well as can be. Troubled at the prospect of lordship and crossing the strait, and perhaps somewhat distressed by the fact that he has left most of his friends behind."
"As I had suspected." The otter crossed her arms. "He would not do that yet."
"Oh? I thought Lord Erlend–"
"I have other plans for him. He'll be close to me until council proceedings have been completed, and I shall handle his princely education until I think he is ready to accept the lordly office. I'm sure Erlend can do with somebeast else between our realms… just as he had inserted somebeast else between us." Lorelei sighed as she found herself abed once more. "Eucheria is a nut with a thick shell, uncrackable without a beast of great mental fortitude, diplomatic tact or martial experience, and my son is none of these things."
Hirsent turned to Lorelei as her whiskers shook. "That is, until you set him right, hm?"
Lorelei gave a faint nod as she closed her eyes. Seasons, why couldn't Corrado have been the Thaumaturge instead? What greater misfortunes have you in store for House Skyward? What calumnies have you planned for my son?
C/N: And we are back with more Through Fire and Sword, in which I return as the first POV character after the brief interlude last month. Sure, Kiormund does have more chapters, but all the important things happen to me, which makes me the main character. Case closed.
Sarno appears to be quite interesting, I've heard, but I don't see anything interesting about him. Sure, he's a wolf from the mountains, but my father said he met entire packs of them, so it's not exactly the most special thing we have ever witnessed. But I'm sure you would enjoy his presence on this side of the Ring Sea, not knowing what direction he is to tread in... you readers do enjoy suspense.
While I prepare the last steps of my journey, Egil awaits on the other side of the river. Let us see if he is a worthy companion to my son, shall we?
