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This is a sequel to Mont Rose, which is a sequel to Rajjan Tor. The stories are set in 
tegerio's Realm of Faerie universe, as shown in his Zandar's Saga here on FA, and The Ballad of Adler Young.
Also check out
EOCostello's Realm of Faerie stories:
The Thin Line
From Whom All Blessings Flow
Personal Diplomacy
The Font of Honour
It's Only Funny Until Someone Loses Their Dignity
. . . Is In Another Castle
The Coin of the Realm
Dance, Ballerina, Dance
___________
Blunt Objects
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
Art by tegerio
Part 23.
Alys’ eyes went wide and she shrieked “NO!” again as she whirled and floundered through the foaming mill water toward the wheel. Despite her soaked dress weighing her down, she leaped and grabbed hold of Cheshire, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
The water wheel groaned at the added burden, but the river flow moving it was relentless. With a surge of spray the pair of fennecs went up and over as Hannah and Salome both screamed.
Cheshire, dazed as he was, had managed to get loose, and his arms went around Alys and held on to her.
The crowd cheered as they both went over, whether it was for the show or the fact that the vixen kissed the tod.
Sadly, extricating himself from the water wheel resulted in both of them pitching headfirst into the river, accompanied by the screams of their mothers and the laughter of the crowd of townspeople. The assembled Elves searched intently among the churning froth of the millrace for any sign of the couple, and another cheer arose as they both emerged, gasping, on the other side of the wheel.
Still arm in arm, coughing as they shook water from their fur.
“You?”
“You?”
Cheshire and Alys stood staring at each other. His expression was a mixture of dazed befuddlement and anger, while hers was worried.
Coming to his senses, he held her away at arm’s-length, causing her to stumble backwards. She sat down in the stream with a splash. There was another cheer from the crowd, and she pouted at them.
“Cheshire!”
The big tod had been about to charge at Ayyub, who stood knee-deep in the water with his fists cocked, when the sound of his name made him pause. “Mother?”
Salome Blunt shook a finger at him. “Stop.”
“But – “
“Now.”
He turned to glare at Ayyub, then spat in the river and turned away, giving him a dismissive gesture as he slogged his way ashore. He barely glanced at Isabeau as she waded into the water to hug her betrothed, Ayyub wincing slightly as she squeezed his ribs.
“What the Netherhells is going on, Mother?” Cheshire demanded, wringing water from his bushy tail. He gave the crowd an accusing glare. “None of you helped me, and what’s the reason his sister – “
“Shut up.” Heads turned as his father Godefroy stepped up.
“Father – “
The elder Blunt wasn’t quite as big as his son, but he demonstrated that he was nearly as strong by the whipcrack sound as the palm of his paw struck Cheshire’s cheek. The crowd gasped as the tod flinched (like Ayyub, Cheshire too was starting to feel the effects of the fight) and Godefroy said levelly, “Don’t you ever dare raise your voice to your mother.”
Cheshire deflated so fast that a few in the audience fancied they could hear a blattering noise. “Sorry, Mother,” he mumbled.
“Good. Now, Salome, I’m curious as to what’s going on here. Care to tell me now?”
Salome blushed a bit and looked at Hannah Sharpears, who nodded. “Well, my dear, you know that Cheshire was so distraught over all this – “
“Yes?”
“And Eleanor had an idea.” Mrs. Weatherwright nodded.
Godefroy looked at the three older vixens, then at Alys. His eyes narrowed. “I see. And when were you planning on telling me, hmm? When I was asked to bless my first grandson?”
Farukh said in an aside to Cedric, “Cheshire comes by his temper honestly, does he?”
Cedric’s ears dipped. “More than you know. It’s a banked fire, but all the hotter for that. You should see how he acts when a deal’s being negotiated.”
Farukh looked thoughtful. “I think I’ll have to bear that in mind,” he muttered as he waded in to pull his daughter from the river. Alys sobbed and clung to him as he comforted her, his wife joining them as they climbed up the bank.
“So, that’s what all that was about,” Isabeau said.
Ayyub paused in checking for loose teeth and pulled his fingers from his mouth. “Whuh?”
She gave him a sympathetic look and gave his sleeve a tug. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s get you out of the river before we both catch cold.” He docilely allowed her to lead him out of the water.
“Is that the end?” they heard one elderly canine ask another.
The other put a paw to his chin in a judicious posture and thought. “It may just be Round One,” he replied, “so we might want to hang about.”
“Righto. Another wager?”
“Hmm. Perhaps another copper?”
“Done!” The two shook paws on it.
As Farukh and Hannah helped Alys up the riverbank, a shout and a series of whistles were heard. Realizing that she had been in very chilly water and wore only a thin cotton blouse, she squeaked and tried to cover herself up as Lucy put her paws over Jake’s eyes.
“Hey!”
“You are not supposed to see this, Little Brother.”
Verity snorted. “Fooey. Straight out of Jane, the Lowfolk Femme #682. ‘Grind Slowly,’ by Frank Furzetta.” A few of the men chuckled at her remark as she added, “Just goes to show you that every story has one basic plot . . . Isabeau?”
“Yes, Aunt Verity?”
She reached into her purse and offered her a small packet wrapped in paper. “Steep this like tea, and both of you drink it. It’ll chase the chill off.” Eleanor intercepted it, sniffed at it while giving her sister-in-law a look, then nodded and gave it to her daughter. Isabeau murmured her thanks and walked Ayyub to the house.
“Eleanor, it’s the same thing Mother used to give me – and Cedric – back when we were little.”
“Just making sure, Verity. I know your sense of humor.”
The vixens frowned at each other as Isabeau helped Ayyub up the stairs. “How do you feel?”
“All over,” he replied, and he gave her a weary grin as she scowled. “Fighting tends to take a bit out of you, and I usually fight with bow or sword. Bare fists and feet – well, I’m not in the infantry.”
“And I’m glad you’re not,” she said. “You know that the rival for my affections will be very cross at me for letting you get into fights.”
He shook his head. “’Rival for your affections?’” he echoed. “Who?”
“Beauty, of course,” she said with a smile, and the two chuckled as he paused to squeeze the last of the water from his fur before they went inside. Isabeau did the same thing with her tail, ignoring the hoots from a few of her fellow townsfurs. With a final flick of water from the tip of her brush, she and her betrothed walked inside.
She led him straight into the kitchen, where she busied herself setting the kettle on to boil and pouring the packet of herbs into the teapot. When she turned away to get some towels she paused. “You have hold of my tail.”
“It’s a very nice tail.”
“That's very sweet of you to say so, but it’s all wet.”
“I think you look very pretty.”
“Even when wet?”
He nodded. “Maybe I should ask Verity for a bit of Gramerye before I go, and we visit your spot by the river again . . . “ He let go of her tail and started poking about in cabinets for cups.
Isabeau coquettishly flirted her damp tail at him, switched her hips as he grinned and blew her a kiss, and left the room to get towels.
When the kettle started to whistle Ayyub poured the boiling water into the teapot and set the kettle aside as fragrant steam started to rise from the pot. He took a tentative sniff, then a deeper breath as he felt a bit of warmth course through him. As Isabeau walked back in with an armload of towels he remarked, “I think there might be enough here for all of us.”
“’Us?’”
His ears perked. “Yes,” and the back door banged open. Alys came in shivering, with her mother close behind her and rubbing her daughter’s arms and shoulders. Behind her the rest of the two families and, to his surprise, the Blunts. “Alys, are you all right?” he asked.
“I – ahchoo! – I’ll be all right,” she sniffed. She looked back at Cheshire Blunt, and let her mother escort her out of the room and upstairs to dry off. Mrs. Weatherwright went upstairs with them.
Lucy and Jake went straight through to the living room. “C’mon, Jake,” she said, “you, me and Bertram can play a nice game of halma . . .” The young vixen paused only long enough to grab a pitcher of fruit juice and three cups as she shepherded the younger tod out of the kitchen, leaving the adults behind.
Ayyub’s father Farukh looked a bit calculating, as if he was pondering a deal of some kind, while Cedric looked a bit worried and Godefroy appeared irritated. Verity gave him a reassuring smile, and Salome Blunt looked a bit distressed.
He fixed his gaze on Cheshire, and felt his sore right paw clench.
tegerio's Realm of Faerie universe, as shown in his Zandar's Saga here on FA, and The Ballad of Adler Young.Also check out
EOCostello's Realm of Faerie stories:The Thin Line
From Whom All Blessings Flow
Personal Diplomacy
The Font of Honour
It's Only Funny Until Someone Loses Their Dignity
. . . Is In Another Castle
The Coin of the Realm
Dance, Ballerina, Dance
___________
Blunt Objects
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
Art by
tegerioPart 23.
Alys’ eyes went wide and she shrieked “NO!” again as she whirled and floundered through the foaming mill water toward the wheel. Despite her soaked dress weighing her down, she leaped and grabbed hold of Cheshire, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
The water wheel groaned at the added burden, but the river flow moving it was relentless. With a surge of spray the pair of fennecs went up and over as Hannah and Salome both screamed.
Cheshire, dazed as he was, had managed to get loose, and his arms went around Alys and held on to her.
The crowd cheered as they both went over, whether it was for the show or the fact that the vixen kissed the tod.
Sadly, extricating himself from the water wheel resulted in both of them pitching headfirst into the river, accompanied by the screams of their mothers and the laughter of the crowd of townspeople. The assembled Elves searched intently among the churning froth of the millrace for any sign of the couple, and another cheer arose as they both emerged, gasping, on the other side of the wheel.
Still arm in arm, coughing as they shook water from their fur.
“You?”
“You?”
Cheshire and Alys stood staring at each other. His expression was a mixture of dazed befuddlement and anger, while hers was worried.
Coming to his senses, he held her away at arm’s-length, causing her to stumble backwards. She sat down in the stream with a splash. There was another cheer from the crowd, and she pouted at them.
“Cheshire!”
The big tod had been about to charge at Ayyub, who stood knee-deep in the water with his fists cocked, when the sound of his name made him pause. “Mother?”
Salome Blunt shook a finger at him. “Stop.”
“But – “
“Now.”
He turned to glare at Ayyub, then spat in the river and turned away, giving him a dismissive gesture as he slogged his way ashore. He barely glanced at Isabeau as she waded into the water to hug her betrothed, Ayyub wincing slightly as she squeezed his ribs.
“What the Netherhells is going on, Mother?” Cheshire demanded, wringing water from his bushy tail. He gave the crowd an accusing glare. “None of you helped me, and what’s the reason his sister – “
“Shut up.” Heads turned as his father Godefroy stepped up.
“Father – “
The elder Blunt wasn’t quite as big as his son, but he demonstrated that he was nearly as strong by the whipcrack sound as the palm of his paw struck Cheshire’s cheek. The crowd gasped as the tod flinched (like Ayyub, Cheshire too was starting to feel the effects of the fight) and Godefroy said levelly, “Don’t you ever dare raise your voice to your mother.”
Cheshire deflated so fast that a few in the audience fancied they could hear a blattering noise. “Sorry, Mother,” he mumbled.
“Good. Now, Salome, I’m curious as to what’s going on here. Care to tell me now?”
Salome blushed a bit and looked at Hannah Sharpears, who nodded. “Well, my dear, you know that Cheshire was so distraught over all this – “
“Yes?”
“And Eleanor had an idea.” Mrs. Weatherwright nodded.
Godefroy looked at the three older vixens, then at Alys. His eyes narrowed. “I see. And when were you planning on telling me, hmm? When I was asked to bless my first grandson?”
Farukh said in an aside to Cedric, “Cheshire comes by his temper honestly, does he?”
Cedric’s ears dipped. “More than you know. It’s a banked fire, but all the hotter for that. You should see how he acts when a deal’s being negotiated.”
Farukh looked thoughtful. “I think I’ll have to bear that in mind,” he muttered as he waded in to pull his daughter from the river. Alys sobbed and clung to him as he comforted her, his wife joining them as they climbed up the bank.
“So, that’s what all that was about,” Isabeau said.
Ayyub paused in checking for loose teeth and pulled his fingers from his mouth. “Whuh?”
She gave him a sympathetic look and gave his sleeve a tug. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s get you out of the river before we both catch cold.” He docilely allowed her to lead him out of the water.
“Is that the end?” they heard one elderly canine ask another.
The other put a paw to his chin in a judicious posture and thought. “It may just be Round One,” he replied, “so we might want to hang about.”
“Righto. Another wager?”
“Hmm. Perhaps another copper?”
“Done!” The two shook paws on it.
As Farukh and Hannah helped Alys up the riverbank, a shout and a series of whistles were heard. Realizing that she had been in very chilly water and wore only a thin cotton blouse, she squeaked and tried to cover herself up as Lucy put her paws over Jake’s eyes.
“Hey!”
“You are not supposed to see this, Little Brother.”
Verity snorted. “Fooey. Straight out of Jane, the Lowfolk Femme #682. ‘Grind Slowly,’ by Frank Furzetta.” A few of the men chuckled at her remark as she added, “Just goes to show you that every story has one basic plot . . . Isabeau?”
“Yes, Aunt Verity?”
She reached into her purse and offered her a small packet wrapped in paper. “Steep this like tea, and both of you drink it. It’ll chase the chill off.” Eleanor intercepted it, sniffed at it while giving her sister-in-law a look, then nodded and gave it to her daughter. Isabeau murmured her thanks and walked Ayyub to the house.
“Eleanor, it’s the same thing Mother used to give me – and Cedric – back when we were little.”
“Just making sure, Verity. I know your sense of humor.”
The vixens frowned at each other as Isabeau helped Ayyub up the stairs. “How do you feel?”
“All over,” he replied, and he gave her a weary grin as she scowled. “Fighting tends to take a bit out of you, and I usually fight with bow or sword. Bare fists and feet – well, I’m not in the infantry.”
“And I’m glad you’re not,” she said. “You know that the rival for my affections will be very cross at me for letting you get into fights.”
He shook his head. “’Rival for your affections?’” he echoed. “Who?”
“Beauty, of course,” she said with a smile, and the two chuckled as he paused to squeeze the last of the water from his fur before they went inside. Isabeau did the same thing with her tail, ignoring the hoots from a few of her fellow townsfurs. With a final flick of water from the tip of her brush, she and her betrothed walked inside.
She led him straight into the kitchen, where she busied herself setting the kettle on to boil and pouring the packet of herbs into the teapot. When she turned away to get some towels she paused. “You have hold of my tail.”
“It’s a very nice tail.”
“That's very sweet of you to say so, but it’s all wet.”
“I think you look very pretty.”
“Even when wet?”
He nodded. “Maybe I should ask Verity for a bit of Gramerye before I go, and we visit your spot by the river again . . . “ He let go of her tail and started poking about in cabinets for cups.
Isabeau coquettishly flirted her damp tail at him, switched her hips as he grinned and blew her a kiss, and left the room to get towels.
When the kettle started to whistle Ayyub poured the boiling water into the teapot and set the kettle aside as fragrant steam started to rise from the pot. He took a tentative sniff, then a deeper breath as he felt a bit of warmth course through him. As Isabeau walked back in with an armload of towels he remarked, “I think there might be enough here for all of us.”
“’Us?’”
His ears perked. “Yes,” and the back door banged open. Alys came in shivering, with her mother close behind her and rubbing her daughter’s arms and shoulders. Behind her the rest of the two families and, to his surprise, the Blunts. “Alys, are you all right?” he asked.
“I – ahchoo! – I’ll be all right,” she sniffed. She looked back at Cheshire Blunt, and let her mother escort her out of the room and upstairs to dry off. Mrs. Weatherwright went upstairs with them.
Lucy and Jake went straight through to the living room. “C’mon, Jake,” she said, “you, me and Bertram can play a nice game of halma . . .” The young vixen paused only long enough to grab a pitcher of fruit juice and three cups as she shepherded the younger tod out of the kitchen, leaving the adults behind.
Ayyub’s father Farukh looked a bit calculating, as if he was pondering a deal of some kind, while Cedric looked a bit worried and Godefroy appeared irritated. Verity gave him a reassuring smile, and Salome Blunt looked a bit distressed.
He fixed his gaze on Cheshire, and felt his sore right paw clench.
Category Prose / Fantasy
Species Vulpine (Other)
Size 175 x 154px
File Size 7.6 kB
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