Disclaimer: All non-original characters are property of SEGA or their respective creators.
16. The Blue Prince
"Go on. That's it. Keep enjoying that meal," Princess Styx of Hibernia whispered to herself as she delicately nocked an arrow to her bow.
Beyond the thin screen of vegetation, a solitary elk stood grazing in a clearing. The badger had been stalking the buck for longer than she cared to remember, waiting for him to stop wandering. Even for an archer of her acumen, trying to hit a moving target in these woods was a perfect waste of an arrow.
She'd left the horse with Morain. She'd been excited for them to hunt together, only for the vixen to insist they split up. If they wanted to eat and still reach Lethra before dark, they would need a good fire going.
Taking a measured breath, Styx drew back her bowstring, eyeing a spot on the elk's shaggy brown flank. "Dinnertime's over."
Just then, something rustled on the other side of the clearing. The elk's head shot up. Styx's eyes widened as her prey bolted. Cursing under her breath, she pivoted towards the source of the rustling. Whatever it was would pay dearly.
A grunting black boar came charging out of the underbrush. Upon its back was Morain, clinging to the hilt of a sword protruding from between the rampant sow's shoulders. The vixen's wild eyes found Styx's through the screen of vegetation.
"Go tend the fire!" she called out, speaking around a dagger clamped between her teeth.
Styx gradually relaxed her bowstring as the boar and its rider disappeared back into the trees.
"Trogg's balls," she breathed, returning her arrow to the quiver on her back.
жЖж
"Last one, young lord," said Lobo, brandishing a wooden mallet, "Hold it tight now."
Silver nodded nervously, trying not to cringe as the brown wolf hammered the wood peg into the grassy ground.
"Perfect," said Lobo, twanging the tent's taut guy-rope, "Nicely done, young lord."
The hedgehog smiled bashfully as his quills were ruffled. He wasn't sure how much credit he really deserved, but the slave would heap on more praise if he said anything.
Flopping down onto the grass, Silver yawned. His mother had left him to help Lobo put up their tent while she conducted an inspection of the warband's camp. Percilla hadn't come with them when they left that mean old bat's house.
Peering up at the flaps of the pale canvas pavilion, the ten-year-old thought about crawling inside and curling up in his cloak. Soon, he would. But not yet. He had to ask his mother something first.
"Mistress!" squealed Susi suddenly.
Before she could rush to greet the returning Amaranth, Lupe caught her daughter by her scruff.
"Welcome back, mistress," said Lobo, bowing his head as the armor-clad hedgehog approached.
Silver promptly got up and held out his arms.
"Good boy," said Amaranth, handing him her iron-headed war-hammer, "And thank you, Lobo. You're welcome if you change your mind."
The brown wolf cast a glance at Lupe and Susi, sitting in front of a tent half the size of the hedgehogs' pavilion.
"Thank you, mistress, but Lupe was quite…emphatic on the matter."
The cerise hedgehog smiled. "Very well."
Wobbling a little under the weight of his mother's weapon, Silver followed her inside their tall tent.
"Last time I wear that for a while," muttered Amaranth as she tore off her helmet.
Silver hastily set down the war-hammer and came over to take custody of the piece of armor.
"Put it back in the trunk for now," said Amaranth, "You can help me put the stand up tomorrow."
With a nod, Silver plodded over to a wooden chest in the corner of the tent, opened it, and reverently placed the helmet inside.
Watching her self-appointed young squire at work, his mother smiled to herself.
"Ma?"
"Hmm?" uttered Amaranth, pulling off her gauntlets.
"Why did that mean old bat yell at you in there?"
The cerise hedgehog blinked. She had almost forgotten about Gordian's parting shot back in the longhouse.
"Gordian and I once had a…disagreement," she said, unbuckling a vambrace.
"When?" asked Silver, "What about?"
"Slow down," laughed Amaranth, stretching out her freshly-liberated right arm, "It was when you were little."
"But what did he mean about Pa 'carting you around', Ma?"
His mother arched her eyebrows. "Someone was listening carefully."
She went to ruffle his quills. In a rare display of pride, Silver evaded her hand.
"Please, Ma?" he whined.
Amaranth sighed as she handed him her gauntlets and vambraces.
"Gordian has always had a lot of respect for your father. He once saved this farm for him."
"Did you help, Ma?"
"Not that time," said Amaranth, adding pauldrons to the armor in Silver's arms.
"Why not?"
His mother paused, seemingly distracted by a stubborn buckle on her breastplate. In truth, she wasn't sure how to answer.
When Shadow had led that warband down here six years ago, she had stayed behind in Dalriada with the four-year-old Silver, too pregnant to put on a breastplate. Shadow had returned days before she went into labor, only for their daughter to be born sleeping. It still took tremendous effort for her to utter Drimia's name.
In the wake of that loss, she had been less than interested in hearing her husband's account of slaying rogue wolves and their jackal deceivers in the hills of southern Galderia. His account of how Gordian treated his wolves, breeding them like they were sheep or cattle, was another matter.
Even the steely Shadow was unnerved at how the mean old bat ensured there was a steady stream of new cubs being born on his farm. Sometimes, his methods could be as benign as building two lovestruck wolves a new hut. Other times, his overseers would enlist willing male slaves to act as 'stud wolves' with recalcitrant females.
"Ma?"
Snapping out of her reverie, Amaranth looked up from the still-fastened buckle. Silver's forehead was creased in concern.
"Sorry, Silver, I…well, I must be more tired than I thought. May we discuss this later?"
Failing to entirely disguise his disappointment, her son nodded.
"Yes, Ma," he said weakly.
Watching him trudge over to the armor chest, Amaranth bit her lip guiltily. Not for the first time since leaving Dalriada, she considered telling him about his new sibling. Then, she reconsidered. It was still too soon. Moreover, she knew of simpler ways to cheer her little boy up.
"Silver?"
"Yes, Ma?"
"Could you help me with these?" she asked, patting the armor on her legs.
The albino's hedgehog's face lit up. Darting across the tent, he dropped to his knees and set about unbuckling her greaves.
"Ma!" he whined, pushing away a hand intent on scratching between his ears, "I'm trying to concentrate."
жЖж
"I told you those castle cooks couldn't hold a candle to my Tessa!" declared Yojana as she heard her grandson set his cutlery down upon an empty plate.
Prince Miles of Cambria rolled his eyes. Beside him, Zoë tried hard not to look surprised. She'd feared he might eat slower than usual, to delay their big announcement for as long as he could. As it was, she was now the one with the half-full plate. This elk steak was simply too good to rush.
"I just was hungry," muttered Miles.
"Pah! Next, you'll be telling us you were 'just thirsty' while you glug Raymond's sloeberry wine," scoffed Yojana, "It's been this way ever since you were a cub. Always trying to avoid being the center of attention."
Zoë giggled into the back of her hand. Miles shot her a wounded glance. Across the table, the elderly vixen's ears pricked.
"Is that you, Tessa darling?" she asked aloud, "We were just talking about you."
The brown squirrel smiled patiently as she approached the foxes table, pitcher in hand. She quietly topped up their brass cups with water and removed Miles's plate. Returning to the kitchen, she found Raymond looming over their daughter Saskia as she grudgingly chewed a mouthful of vegetables.
"Here, Ossian," said Tessa, beckoning over her son, "Take this out to the stable."
"Yes, Ma," said the sandy-furred squirrel as he was handed a pot of carrot peelings.
He diligently ignored his little sister's complaints about wanting to go feed the horsies too as he crossed the kitchen. Carefully traversing the backdoor's uneven step, he wandered out into the yard.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
Startled, Ossian looked up to see a bay horse jumping over the yard's low stone wall.
"Never do that again!" spat Sonic, hugging Fiona's waist for dear life as their steed landed.
The vixen scoffed as she whoaed the horse. "Stick with Styx next time if you're going to go all Erinian on me."
"I will do," muttered the hedgehog as he tried to dismount. The size of the claymore strapped to his back made it an awkward exercise.
Ossian's eyes goggled at the sight of the oversized sword.
"Ma?" he called out, "Pa?"
The yell startled the bay mare.
"Easy, girl, easy now," whispered Fiona soothingly, stroking her mount's reddish mane.
"Are you quite done scaring my boy?"
Sonic's eyes darted to the inn's backdoor. "Raymond?"
"Sonic?" said the flying squirrel, craning his neck to see round the horse, "You're here, too?"
"Shouldn't he be?" asked Fiona.
"No, not at all, we just…well, Errol only said to expect three of you," replied Raymond.
"Poor fox is getting old before his time," the vixen sighed.
Sonic stayed quiet as Fiona dismounted. Raymond came forward to take the horse's reins.
"You two had best go inside," he said, "Yojana's up to her usual tricks."
Fiona smirked. "When isn't she?"
Sonic suddenly found himself being pulled by the hand towards the inn's backdoor. They cut through the kitchen without acknowledging Tessa or Saskia and proceeded into the tavern area.
"Aunty Jana!" the vixen chirped, hastily removing the sword and shield on her back.
Yojana scarcely had time to swallow her mouthful before Fiona hugged her from behind.
"Hello, Fifi," said the elderly vixen as they rubbed cheeks.
Across the table, the confused Miles slowly put down his cup. "What're you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" snapped his grandmother, "My darling Fiona came to her senses about spending the night in some dank cave."
Fiona and Zoë both tittered. The exasperated prince looked to Sonic.
"Styx is handling Morain," said the hedgehog as he undid his claymore's shoulder-harness.
Yojana's ears stiffened. "Is that Sonic?"
"Uh-huh," uttered Fiona, "Sounds like Errol had a memory lapse."
"Errol did? That's unlike…"
The elderly vixen trailed off as she sniffed the air. She chuckled.
"Tessa darling, you've outdone yourself again!"
Catching a whiff of the same smell, Sonic turned to see a brown squirrel exiting the kitchen, bearing two bowls of steaming stew.
"I'm afraid you missed the elk," she said.
"They'll eat what they're given," snapped Yojana, "Now don't just sit there, Miles. Get off that royal backside and fetch some chairs for your—"
Zoë suddenly stood up, knocking her chair over.
"Pl-please forgive my rude interruption, but before you sit down, th-there's something Miles and I would like to…tell you."
The vixen faltered as Miles slowly rose to his feet. He grasped her fidgeting right hand firmly.
"When we see my father next," he began, "I'm going to ask him to free Zoë from his service."
"That's lovely, Miles," said Yojana, "But as I was—"
"And then, I'm going to ask his permission to marry her," the fox went on.
His grandmother blinked her cloudy eyes. "Marriage, Miles?"
"Yes. You see…"
He hesitated, eyeing the front of Zoë's maroon dress. She squeezed his hand tight.
"…Zoë's going to have a cub," he went on, "My cub."
The ensuing silence was broken by the thud of Sonic's claymore hitting the floor. He strode purposefully towards the foxes' table. Zoë had to let Miles' hand go as he was engulfed by his brother's arms.
"Congratulations," Fiona whispered in her hear, hugging the slave from behind, "My princess."
"Th-thank you," murmured Zoë, distracted by something across the table.
Yojana wasn't smiling. She looked oddly pensive. Dour, even.
жЖж
Princess Blaze of Agnia rattled as she shook her head. Tikal and Xhade had just finished tying wooden beads into her ponytail. Shadow grimaced at the gentle click-clack of the cat's new accessories. He could just imagine the racket they would make in a chariot at full gallop.
He was busy sharpening his broadsword, or rather, he and Lenca were. The dingo pup was holding the whetstone while he guided it up and down the blade. It was a new experience for him. Silver had never shown much interest in the sword, or any weapons in general. It was always armor with that boy.
"Gatekeeper?" said Knuxahuatl, looking up from the alpaca he was shearing in the wicker-fenced enclosure in the middle of the compound.
Shadow and the others duly looked round to see a stout purple echidna ambling towards them.
"Where's your aunt, lad?" asked Machupicchu, scanning the compound's seven mudbrick huts.
"Mistress went to fetch food for Inti," Tikal piped up.
Hearing her name, the alpaca reared her head.
"Has something happened, Gatekeeper?" asked Xhade warily.
"Calm yourself, Reaver," urged Machupicchu, "Tazumal came by the gatehouse a short while ago. He gave me a message to pass on."
"Why not come here himself?" said Knuxahuatl.
"He was told not to," sneered Xhade, "Right, Gatekeeper?"
"That's enough, Reaver."
The vermilion echidna curled her lip. "Let me guess: has he delayed the audience again?"
"He, Reaver? He is your king and you will refer to him as such," snapped Machupicchu, "And as matter of fact, Tazumal came to say a time and place have been decided."
"Where?" asked Knuxahuatl, gathering up the white wool he'd harvested off Inti, "When?"
"In the morning, lad. Right here."
"Here?!" blurted Xhade, springing to her feet, "The flittermouse sent a princess to meet him! Here is no place to receive royalty!"
Machupicchu marched up to the indignant echidna. Tikal gasped as Xhade was slapped.
"Gatekeeper!" Knuxahuatl piped up, rushing up to the fence.
"Hush, lad, this isn't your concern," said the Gatekeeper, "Tikal, bring me Xhade's arms and armor please. It seems I'll be looking after them for a little while."
"Y-yes, Gatekeeper."
Massaging her smarting cheek, Xhade watched the young princess-turned-slave scurry off, taking Lenca with her.
"If you're quite finished showing off for Ayahuasca's guests," said Machupicchu sternly, "You can consider yourself excused from patrols until the next full moon, Reaver."
"But—"
"But nothing, lass. This cannot go on. You helped Tikal learn her new place well enough. Maybe she can help you learn yours."
Cheek still in hand, the vermilion echidna sank dejectedly onto her backside.
"As for you, Princess of Agnia," said the purple echidna, turning to Blaze, "I am told you and your charioteer will be welcome to meet King Iximche on two conditions."
"Please name them, Gatekeeper?" said Blaze primly.
"You will be unarmed, and you will dress as true Arkadians do."
Shadow's grip on his broadsword's hilt tightened abruptly. He glanced about the compound, suddenly acutely aware of the echidnas' universally bare torsos. "Surely you don't expect—"
"Your conditions are reasonable and will be respected, Gatekeeper," Blaze cut in.
The interrupted Shadow suppressed a scowl. It wasn't Blaze's modesty he'd been thinking of so much as his own. Appearing naked and unarmed in the presence of a hostile monarch was not an experience he ever thought he'd have to live through twice.
жЖж
Perched on Yojana's lap, little Saskia was giggling herself silly watching her big brother Ossian try to lift Sonic's claymore off the tavern floor. Raymond was behind the bar, pouring a goblet of his sloeberry wine for the waiting Fiona.
"Want one for Sonic?" asked the flying squirrel.
He blinked as the vixen emptied the goblet in a single gulp.
"Make it two," she said, licking her lips.
Raymond smiled and went off to fetch another flask from the cellar, leaving Fiona to savor the taste of cubhood lingering on her tongue. Once upon a time, the giggling little girl on Yojana's lap had been her.
She'd never known her parents, nor any other blood relative. According to Errol, he'd found her as an infant in the woods near Lethra, possibly the lone survivor of a tragic incident, possibly a foundling. It didn't really matter. She'd found a home at the Blackthorn Inn, and a mother in Yojana. She flatly refused to be addressed as 'Ma', though. Hence 'Aunty Jana'.
Those ten happy years of helping in the kitchen, effectively managing the inn's stable, and playing in the woods — occasionally with Miles, during his seasonal visits — ended when she accompanied Miles and Errol back to Cilgarren one summer. She'd seldom come back since.
"Two sloeberry wines," said Raymond, pushing two brimming goblets across the bar.
"Thanks," said Fiona, collecting the vessels.
Turning away from the bar, the vixen headed for the inn's front door. Though she was aching for some alone time with Yojana, it looked like that would have to wait until after Ossian and Saskia's bedtime. Meanwhile, Miles and Zoë had already retired upstairs, presumably not to be seen again before breakfast. She was ready for a break from little squirrels.
Outside, she found Sonic lazing beneath one of the many blackthorn trees the inn was named for.
"Is that what I think it is?" he said, looking up as Fiona ducked under the tree's low bough.
"Try not to drink it all at once," said Fiona, passing him a goblet.
"That good, huh?"
"I'm not sure how, but it might be the best I've tasted."
The hedgehog snorted softly. "Well, there had to be something Raymond was good at, because fighting certainly wasn't it."
"Things seem to have worked out for him," said Fiona, sitting down on the grass beside the tree's trunk.
"Seem to? This place is as good as his, isn't it?"
"I suppose so," muttered the vixen, glancing wistfully around the blackthorn grove. There'd once been she thought she would succeed Yojana as innkeeper, but that horse had bolted.
"Sorry," said Sonic.
"Don't be. There's a reason Aunty Jana never let me cook," said Fiona, taking a sip of wine, "What've you been doing out here this whole time?"
"Just…thinking."
"About Miles?"
"Yeah."
"Scared you might miss him?"
Sonic snorted into his wine. Fiona cocked a brow.
"Fine, then. What?" she demanded.
The hedgehog sighed. "I just hope he's readier for it than I was."
The vixen's expression softened. She shuffled across the grass and leant against him.
"It's…different," she murmured, "You didn't choose it like he has. And anyway, you've gotten better."
"I haven't," mumbled Sonic.
"Excuse me?"
"Errol didn't get it wrong,"
"What?"
"Errol's memory is just fine. Raymond wasn't expecting me because…well, I was never supposed to be here."
жЖж
The green hedgehog hiked up the skirts of her cumbersome samite gown as she swept down a torchlit passageway towards the royal apartments within Tesiphon Castle.
"My lady Penumbra?" said a mongoose surprisedly, hastily curtsying as the hedgehog entered the antechamber.
"Good evening, Mina," said Baroness Penumbra, acknowledging the curtsy with a nod, "Is the princess still awake?"
"Yes, my lady. Would you like me to announce you?"
"I feel that may be a little excessive," said the green hedgehog, flashing a faint smile, "Don't you?"
"As you say, my lady," said Mina.
Bowing her head, the mongoose stepped to the side, drawing back the heavy curtain she'd been stood in front of. Penumbra ducked through the revealed doorway.
"Grandmother?"
A young aquamarine hedgehog sat up in bed, eyes wide with hope.
"Is there news?"
Penumbra hesitated to answer, looking to the older female hedgehog sitting on the bed. Her fur was predominantly black, with green quills where her father Mephiles' were gray.
"Grandmother?"
Penumbra held in a sigh as she crossed the bedchamber. "I'm sorry, Decibella. Captain Salina had no news for us."
The young hedgehog's face dropped. "How could he forget?"
"Bella, we don't know for certain that he's forgotten," the green-and-black hedgehog chided, "There could well be trouble in Cambria."
"But doesn't King Furlong write to Grandfather if something bad happens?" countered Decibella.
"There could be just such a letter on the way," said Penumbra.
The princess curled her lip and hunkered down under her covers. "I wish Grandfather would banish him like Uncle Shadow—"
"Bella!" snapped the green-and-black hedgehog. She would've said more, had she not glimpsed Penumbra's reproachful glare. She stood and shuffled silently out of the bedchamber.
Penumbra waited for the curtain to fall across the door, then sat on the bed beside her sulking granddaughter.
"Why would you wish such a thing on your father, Bella?" she asked softly.
"Because then I'll know he's not coming," mumbled the princess, pulling the covers up over her head.
Stuck for what to say, Penumbra stroked the child through the bedclothes for a spell.
"Would you like Mina to sing for you?" she asked eventually.
"Yes, please," the bed sniffled.
Administering a farewell pat, the green hedgehog stood up and made her out into the antechamber. "I trust you heard all that, Mina?"
"Y-yes, my lady," said the mongoose meekly, disappearing behind the curtain.
"Do you think he forgot?"
"Who can say?" said Penumbra, turning towards the couch where Decibella's mother was sitting.
"She's right about Furlong, though. The king would know if there was trouble brewing. Furlong seems to send a letter if he burns his tail on a candle."
"I suppose that isn't…too great an exaggeration."
"Should I go?"
"Go where?"
"To Cilgarren."
"Whatever for?"
"To find out if he really did forget."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ashura. It's hardly a pressing matter—"
"It is to Bella!"
"Lower your voice," snapped Penumbra, "I don't like seeing your child upset any more than you do, but you have responsibilities here."
Ashura scoffed. "None of them are more important than making Bella happy. What sort of mother does that make me if I can't even do that?"
The green hedgehog drifted over to join her daughter on the couch.
"It makes you the same as any mother whose ever had to disappoint a child," she said, "I have some experience of that myself."
Ashura managed a weak smile. It faded as she peered up at an elaborate tapestry on the far wall. It depicted a blue hedgehog in full battle regalia, plunging an impractically long sword into the heart of a fire-breathing dragon. The weavers had taken inspiration from one of the more popular ballads the bards of Erinia sang about The Blue Prince and his adventures in the untamed wilds of Cambria.
"We never should have let the king hang that in here," muttered Ashura.
"When you're queen, you can do what you like with it," cooed Penumbra, taking her daughter in her arms.
The hedgehogs held each other as the sweet strains of Mina's angelic lullaby drifted in from Decibella's bedchamber.
"I miss them, mother," sniffled Ashura, "Him and Shadow."