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2. An Erinian in Queen Rouge's Court

Steam wafted out of the barrel as Amaranth immersed the hot iron in the cool water. She kept the freshly-forged blade submerged for several seconds, then lifted it out to examine her handiwork in the lingering vapor.

It was a good shape for a shortsword, neither too long nor too narrow. The weight was good, too. Good, but not good enough. Not for her little boy.

"Another one for the armory," she sighed, tossing the blade onto a small pile of handleless swords beside the barrel.

The discarded blades were the product of three days spent shut away in this smithy, trying to make the perfect weapon with which to surprise her son. It felt like a waste, but what Silver didn't know could disappoint him.

"Thank you, Canus," said Amaranth, taking off her soot-smeared leather apron, "That'll be all."

The brawny gray wolf working the forge's bellows looked up in surprise.

"As you wish, my lady," he said, "Perhaps next time?"

"Perhaps," said the hedgehog, flashing a smile. The wolf had been an invaluable source of encouragement over the last three days.

Retrieving her forging hammer off the anvil, Amaranth made her way out of the gloomy forge. The sound of clanging metal heralded her emergence into the afternoon sunshine. Off in a corner of the smithy's yard, the blacksmith Rufus was beating an iron breastplate into shape. The skunk's burly beige wife Tumbola squatted beside him, holding the piece of armor in place.

Spying Amaranth, the female skunk fixed her with a reproachful glare. Canus should've been doing this job, if only the hedgehog hadn't commandeered the forge and their slave along with it.

"Hold it steady, woman," grumbled Rufus, raising his doming hammer over his head.

Amaranth suppressed a smirk as she crossed the yard. Over by the wicker gate, a grayish-brown wolf cub sat swinging her legs on a spare anvil. An iron-headed war-hammer was propped up against the anvil.

"Hello, mistress," said the cub.

"Hello, Susi," said Amaranth, "Could you hold these for me?"

The young slave shuffled off her perch and took custody of the folded apron and forging hammer.

"Did you finish Silver's sword today, mistress?" she asked.

Amaranth sighed. "I'm afraid not. Can I trust you not to tell him, Susi?"

"Of course, mistress!"

"Good girl," said the hedgehog, scratching the cub behind one of her ears.

Untying the strip of cloth restraining her roseate quills, Amaranth picked up her war-hammer and led Susi through the wicker gate, out into Dalriada's workshop quarter. The dusty square bustled with enslaved wolves. Many were stealing moments to themselves as they ran their respective errands.

A pair of whispering she-wolves went suddenly silent as they noticed the hammer-toting hedgehog. Amaranth and Susi breezed past them. It wasn't her job to play overseer.

"What's that smell, mistress?" whined Susi, covering her nose with the apron.

Amaranth stopped and scented the air. It was ripe with the fumes of ordure and rancid ox flesh, emanating from the hillfort's tannery. She covered her mouth, hiding a smirk. She so rarely came down here anymore, she hadn't even considered the poor cub's canine sense of smell. Usually, it was Silver's job. He moaned about the smell too, but that was just tough.

"Why don't you go find Percilla at the tavern, Susi?" said the hedgehog, turning to her slave, "Tell her I'll just be a little while."

"Yes, mistress!" the cub chirped, scampering off across the dusty square.

Amaranth proceeded on towards the pungent leather manufactory. She found a spindly auburn hyrax tending the tannery's shopfront.

"Amaranth?" exclaimed Shamma, the head tanner.

"Hello, Shammie," said the hedgehog, startled by the loud greeting.

The hyrax ducked under her counter and waddled over to embrace her customer. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Amaranth smiled bemusedly. "What honor's that?"

"Do you think any of you warrior-types visit me anymore? All I see these days are wolves, wolves and more wolves," Shamma groused, "Oh, and your little boy, of course. He's so big now!"

"It…must be his quills," said Amaranth, unaware her son was any taller than the average ten-year-old hedgehog.

The hyrax cackled heartily.

"You Erinians are still a mystery to the rest of us, hmm. Anyway, how can I help?"

"Just a couple lengths of cord," said Amaranth, patting the worn leather binding on her war-hammer's wooden haft.

Shamma nodded and ambled off back behind the counter. Watching the tanner disappear into a backroom, Amaranth permitted herself a small sigh. There was that word again: Erinians.

It didn't seem to matter that species besides hedgehogs lived in Erinia, nor that she and Shadow were both banished from the kingdom. Her family were the only hedgehogs living in Queen Rouge's stronghold of Dalriada, and that's all that seemed to matter. It still hurt a little to think Silver might never see her homeland. There was no place in Erinia for these Erinians.

"Here we are," said Shamma, dropping an armful of spooled cords of ox-leather on the counter.

Amaranth patiently let the old hyrax fuss over which cord was the best quality. She eventually left the tannery, thirsty for the mead she trusted Percilla to have waiting for her at the hillfort's tavern.

"Ma!"

The hedgehog stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the dusty square. She looked to her left as the crowd of dawdling wolves around her began to part.

"Ma!" Silver called out, nearly tripping over his feet as he clambered through the lupine corridor.

Amaranth barely had time to put down her war-hammer before the albino hedgehog clamped his arms around her waist.

"You're…awfully early," she said, stroking his head-quills.

"Uh-huh!" chirped the ten-year-old, beaming up at her, "Pa let me drive the chariot!"

"Did he now?" said Amaranth distractedly, noticing Lobo jogging towards them across the square.

Shadow wasn't with the slave.

"Where's your father?" she asked, looking back down at her son.

"He went to see the queen!"

жЖж

Shadow slipped a hand under his breastplate as he walked, scratching a nagging itch beneath the embossed iron abs. He was desperate to take the damned thing off, but Queen Rouge insisted on her warriors being armed and armored in her presence. He wasn't sure why, but he had other things on his mind just now.

He hadn't expected to be summoned like this. He'd been in the hillfort's stables, lecturing Silver on the delicate art of managing a horse's weight — the boy had been overgenerous with the oats — when Honey, the queen's bodyguard, had shown up. Presently, the flaxen-furred feline was marching some way ahead on the dusty path. He couldn't fathom why she was in such a hurry.

Roundhouses with thatched conical roofs lined the path to the royal residence, all belonging to warriors who'd somehow distinguished themselves in the queen's service. Some of the dwellings had children of various species playing in their yards. Others contained wolves toiling away.

Suddenly eager to get back to his own roundhouse, Shadow caught up to Honey and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"What is this about?" he demanded, spinning the cat around.

Honey tilted her head in bemusement. "Don't you have some pyromantic wisdom to impart?"

Shadow scoffed. "'Wisdom' is pushing it."

The cat grinned. "Advice, then. She didn't send you all the way to Tophet for fun."

The hedgehog frowned. "I thought she sent me there to keep Blaze quiet."

Honey smiled wryly. "Arguable, but she still wants to hear what that fire-whisperer came out with, so come on."

Shadow frowned as they walked on. It was always disconcerting to hear an Agnian speak so flippantly about a pyromancer's pronouncement. Most cats he knew treated Iblis's so-called 'truths' as predestined.

"My lord Shadow?" said a white rabbit, guarding the foot of the mound upon which stood Queen Rouge lived, "Welcome back."

Shadow gave the guard a passing nod as he and Honey started up the steep mound. With the exception of a narrow dirt path, the grassy slope was replete with wooden stakes and other obstacles. Leftovers from a time when the queen's hold on Galderia was less than absolute.

Atop the mound stood the royal longhouse, a great wooden oblong of a building with a humped roof twice the height of Dalriada's tallest roundhouse. Its only companion was a skeletal watchtower. This second structure had always felt redundant to Shadow. Not only did it occupy the hillfort's highest point, but the hillfort itself occupied the highest point in the central uplands of Galderia.

The hedgehog cast a glance at the rolling green hills beyond Dalriada's walls as they approached the longhouse's unassuming entrance. Stepping inside, Honey struck the stone floor with the butt of her spear. The thud echoed around the high-ceilinged hall. At the back of the chamber, Queen Rouge looked up.

The bat was lounging upon a wooden throne with a pair of carved wing protruding from the backrest. Her legs were draped over an armrest. In front of the throne, a rubicund echidna and lavender-furred cat sat playing chess. All but two pieces on the board resembled Rouge. The Kings were carved in the image of her late husband, King Aero.

"Our pilgrim returns," said the queen, sipping from her goblet as she sat up, "A worthwhile journey?"

"Hardly, my queen," replied Shadow as he and Honey crossed the hall, passing by a sunken firepit in which a wolf stood turning a spitted calf.

The lavender-furred cat, Princess Blaze of Agnia, glared at him. Rouge, on the other hand, smirked.

"No more than we expected, then."

"My queen!" said Blaze woundedly, turning her gaze on the bat.

Rouge dismissed the indignation with a flick of her wrist.

"Well, Shadow, let's hear it anyway."

Suppressing a sigh, Shadow cleared his throat:

The road that you walk
Is fraught with dangers unseen
Walk it warily

"Iblis has spoken," murmured Blaze as he finished his recitation.

"Well…you can hardly call that bad advice," remarked Rouge, swilling the mead in her goblet, "I certainly doesn't sound like Iblis was expecting you to stay home."

"I…suppose not, my queen," said Shadow.

"Then there's nothing to prevent you leaving for Arkadia tomorrow."

"Arkadia, my queen?" blurted the echidna.

He sprang to his feet and backed away from the throne, almost reversing into the equally bemused Shadow.

"Yes, Knuxahuatl," said Rouge flatly, "Why? Aren't you keen to finally see Laputa again?"

"Of course, my queen," said the echidna, "But…an attack? So soon?"

Rouge threw her head back in laughter.

"There will be no attack," she said, "Merely an embassy."

"To what end, my queen?" said Shadow.

"To tell that usurper Iximche to honor the deal we agreed with Pachacamac, or Dalriada's warriors stand ready to find a King of Arkadia who will."

The bat went for another mouthful of mead, only to find her goblet empty. She looked to her left.

"Lupe, fill this, and bring some for my emissaries."

"Yes, mistress," said a gray she-wolf, approaching the throne with head bowed. She took the queen's goblet and scampered off out a side-door.

At Honey's command, two more slaves carried a table over, placing it in front of Shadow and Knuxahuatl.

"Join us, Blaze," said Rouge, stepping over the incomplete chess game.

The cat obediently made her way to Shadow's side. Then, silence descended over the hall, broken only by the creak of the turning spit in the firepit.

"Where is that damned Moon Wolf?" muttered Rouge, "Lupe! Would you—"

"Right here, mistress!" Lupe called back, bursting into the chamber bearing a tray of goblets.

Rushing to the queen's side, the she-wolf caught her foot on the throne's dais. She stumbled but stayed upright. One of the goblets wasn't so lucky. The ill-fated vessel toppled off the tray, splattering Rouge's green silk gown with mead.

Blaze inhaled so sharply, Shadow glanced at her rather than the spill. The cat was staring at the mead like it was blood.

Rouge gazed impassively at her dirtied dress, then looked up at the petrified Lupe. Delicately, the queen relieved her slave of the tray and placed it on the table. The wolf trembled as the bat extended a hand and patted the side of her muzzle.

"You silly pup," sighed Rouge.

Shadow and Knuxahuatl winced as Honey seized the scruff of Lupe's sackcloth tunic and dragged her away.

"Take one, then, my emissaries," urged Rouge, gesturing to the surviving goblets.

Blaze and Knuxahuatl did so. Shadow didn't, too distracted by the desperate skitter of Lupe's toe-claws on the flagstones. Honey eventually forced the wolf through a side-door.

"My queen?" he said.

The bat smiled knowingly.

"I should've known," she said, taking the last goblet for herself, "Whatever did happen to that thirst of yours?"

Shadow furrowed his brow.

"Drink deep, my emissaries," said Rouge, raising her drink in toast, "At dawn, you open a new chapter in our history."

With that, the queen set about draining her goblet. Dazzled by the sight of the upended vessel, Knuxahuatl was slow to drink his own. As the goblet reached his lips, a sharp canine yelp filled the hall. He fumbled his mead, then dropped it. Rouge coolly went on glugging as a second yelp echoed around the hall, then a third.

"My queen?" said Shadow.

A fourth yelp.

"My queen?"

A fifth yelp.

"My queen!" he snapped, slapping the table with both hands.

Knuxahuatl and Blaze went rigid as Rouge gradually lowered her goblet, then wiped her mouth on her wrists.

"Is it me, Shadow?" she said, pausing for the sixth yelp, "Or is that your wife's voice I just heard?"

Shadow kept his hands planted on the table, mindful of the swords at Knuxahuatl and Blaze's hips. In Honey's absence, they were dutybound to protect her.

"My queen," he began, twitching as a seventh yelp sounded, "Lobo was immensely helpful—"

"You're bringing Lobo into this?" spluttered Rouge.

Shadow lowered his gaze. He took a measured breath as an eighth yelp echoed.

"Shadow, I get the distinct impression you're trying to bargain with me," remarked Rouge, "When has that ever been the Dalriada way?"

A ninth yelp.

"If you have a request, simply ask, and you may receive."

Shadow slowly lifted his head. "My queen, may I humbly request possession of Lupe for the night?"

Rouge locked her eyes with her warrior. She held his gaze long enough for a tenth yelp.

"That ought to be enough," she muttered, "Honey, enough! Bring her out!"

Shadow's shoulders sagged in relief. Honey duly reentered the chamber, leading Lupe by a leather cord binding her wrists. The wretched she-wolf walked with a pronounced stoop.

"Honey, give her to Shadow," Rouge commanded.

"My queen?" said the cat.

Lupe looked up in spite of her scourged back. Her glistening green eyes watched the hedgehog nudge Knuxahuatl aside and snatch the leather cord out of Honey's hands.

"Knuxahuatl? Blaze? Shall we finish your game?" asked Rouge as Shadow stormed out of the longhouse.

Shambling along behind him, Lupe tripped on a stray tussock as they descended the mound.

"Master?" she wheezed, landing on her front.

Shadow whirled around, baring his teeth at the fallen slave.

"You do not call me that!" he spat, stabbing an index finger at the she-wolf.

Lupe nodded frantically, watching his finger as if it were a blade. Shadow seemed to notice. He placed the offending hand on his broadsword's pommel.

"Call me by my name. Call me 'my lord'. Call me what you like," he said quietly, kneeling down, "Just do not call me that."

Lupe tensed as he drew his sword. He severed the cord binding her wrists.

"Climb on," he said, offering her his back, "We both have children waiting for us."