Family Matters
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel

Thumbnail art by  faust1173


Part Twenty.


Ooo-er:

The Master left, and Tali closed the door and asked, “Do you two want to see the whole place?”

I looked around. I’m a daughter of the Glittering Isle, now lost forever, and I had been used to swimming the Great Sea, but Elves Don’t Lie, I felt more than a little out of my depth here.

But I was curious, and a glance at Missy said that she was as well. We both nodded, and I felt Missy’s paw slip into mine as Tali clapped her paws and said, “Great! Follow me, and I’ll give you the tour. Now, this is a Type IX Mobile – “

“It doesn’t need ants?” I asked. “Like that carriage you had at Eastness?”

“Yeah, like that,” Tali said, and she added with a smile, “just a lot quieter.” She opened a door at the far end of the room, and we tagged along behind her.

She wasn’t kidding when she said that the place was larger inside than outside. I stopped counting rooms after twenty before we found ourselves back in the main room and Tali asked, “So, um, would you like to move in with me?”

I looked up at Missy as the wolfess cleared her throat. She looked uncomfortable as she said, “Tali, I’m – well, we’re,” as I said something in Elf-mind, “we’re very glad that you trust enough to ask us to move in with you. Elves Don’t Lie, I found accommodations at your place in Eastness to be very comfortable.” My love took a breath. “But – “

“But you’re uncomfortable being around so much technology, so many machines,” Tali said.

“Yes.”

I nodded.

The feline sighed, and gave us a rueful smile. “I had to make the offer.”

“We appreciate it,” I said, reaching out to touch her paw. “Maybe . . . maybe you could move in with us.” Missy smiled. “It’d be better than being way out here in Glenallid, all by yourself.”

Tali’s tail flicked as she thought about it, and she suddenly grinned. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to stay here,” she said. “Your own bed is always the best, ask any traveler. But!” and she raised a paw, “I don’t have to stay way out here. Care to see how this thing can move?”

I nodded, and Missy did as well.

“You’re going to love this,” Tali said as she sat down at the buttons and tapped on a few. “Ooo-er?”

“Yes?”

Tali pointed at a small red button. “Could you push that, please?”

I looked at it warily, and watched her as I pushed the button.

A light inside the button flashed twice, and Tali said, “We’re here.”

“Where?” I asked.

She gestured at the door where we’d entered the wagon. “See for yourself.” Missy and walked over to the door and opened, and we both gasped.

We were at the frog pond, where the Gap had opened.

“Wow,” as you dry-footers say.


***


Winterbough:

As if I didn’t have enough things on my mind . . .

I'd thought about addressing the roe-does with the opening "Right, you bloody horrible lot," but I was going to be in Temple, not the parade-ground, and life's too short (even for an Elf) to pick those kinds of fights with the [Doe-Moot], so I kept a civil tongue in my head and stuck to the script.

A script that it took me all night to prepare, with the help (and "help") of Estvan Silverbrush. The old bluffer professed to have a great deal of knowledge as to how Challenges were carried out in the Vale, but I suspected this was largely based on, as he put it, "fairst principles." I told him to pack it in, and that I was going to rely strictly on the records of Elfhame, at least those I could winkle away from my mate when she wasn't looking.

Which wasn't much, even accounting for the fact that some of the volumes were likely tucked away in somefur's Elfintory (said fur to be kept unnamed), but what was available was enough for my purposes.

Estvan looked over my shoulder as I was writing out my speech, chuckling to himself. That is, when he wasn't stuffing his gob with tit-bits likely wangled from Stormy. "Aye, that's a rare bit o' fun, Westersloe me boyo," he said, moving aside Third's Skull as he accessed my pipe-weed jar, "sure they'll have the divil's oun toime gettin' around that."

I wasn't so sure about that analysis, though I did want to give the does the least amount of purchase possible to go after what I was proposing. I was under no illusions as to the mental capabilities of the does; they were formidable, and they weren't in the least impressed with my status (such as it was) with the Royal Skunks.

The most complicated part of the drafting process involved using Elf-mind. Considering that I had to cover quite a bit of distance with the brain-box, and communications were doubly difficult with language, it gave me a ferocious headache. However, the results, I think, were well worth it. Especially since Estvan didn't quite know what I had up my sleeve, and it's always a good idea to keep him guessing. The more so since his tongue was looser than the morals of a retired Floozie. I did not want anything to leak out before it was time.

As usual, the Temple was packed. The roe-does, even if they'd been doing star-divination since before [The Coming of the Skunks] and had been at it in one fashion or another ever since, at least observed the formalities of Mephitist worship, and they were on their side of the temple, in their best black, with stiff and clean white collars and cuffs. Save, of course, for Una Sawyer, who chose to wear a green-and-yellow outfit. She sat in the back, one pew behind the rest of the does.

The roebucks, as usual, were on their side of the Temple, and before the service began, were carrying on nearly as if they'd been in [The Sheaf of Arrows]. One or two had even snuck in tankards of plain. Not my department to prevent that, and I suspected Brother Cellini would have drunk off a few if he'd noticed. He was a bit busy, keeping track of his Acolytes. For his part, Dotto (who was sitting down below, his mother sitting in the gallery) was eating an enormous ham sandwich.

The gallery, above, was packed. Most Holy Days, there was a group of Ex-Prisoners who showed up, largely to cheer the explosion that was part of the Holy Recreation. Word about the Challenge had gotten around Glenallid, though, and the rafters were packed with assorted wolf-dom. I could even see a few of the rustics from the Widdershins district of the Vale, toting their stone jugs of scuppernong wine.

Where Estvan was, I wasn't sure. He could have been anywhere, up to and including in the high rafters, where the feral spiders had been, and the image of the Lady (Estvan's patroness) was.

Anastasia had chosen to sit with me and not with the does, I suspected because she was trying to get an idea, via peeking or Elf-mind, what I was going to do. Not that she was going to interfere too much; after all, this was her buck-fawn that was at the root of it all, and she was going to have to deal with a new doe-fawn-in-law.

The service went off with the usual ration of hitches, largely due to Lupo and Cannizorro bungling the amount of reagent to use on the rocks. The resulting explosion blew off part of Trixie's robes, much to the delight of the gallery. A more with-it member of the Church might have chosen that moment to do some converting, but thankfully, I'd made promises not to do that sort of thing, to keep the peace.

Once the sexton had mopped up the soot and cleared away the scorch-marks, and Trixie had been given a fresh robe, I caught Brother Cellini's eye. The turtle, guessing what was at stake, yielded the floor.

I got up from my pew, straightened my "A" uniform (I'd chosen to wear that, instead of my Elfhamian mufti), and strode to the side of the altar, side-stepping a bit of charred vestment that the sexton had missed.

Now, I could give you the load of chat in the original Elfhamian, but that would keep you here for a few hours; Elfhamian isn't exactly the best language for brevity, especially when dealing with complicated subjects. So you'll just have to take it on faith that what I tell you in Standard conveys the original meaning. I suppose the furs in the gallery had to get somefur to translate; they didn't make a fuss about it.

"Right," I said, omitting the bit about the bloody horrible lot, though I will admit it tempted me. "You all know that as Master of Elfhame, I have the right of local justice in the Vale."

Almost as one, the roe-does crossed their arms at that. While it was true, since it was in the Deed of Gift, that didn't mean they had to like it.

"I have had cause to look at Precedent, and I find that there have been many occasions where the Master of Elfhame has set the rules and procedures for Challenges that have been brought forth, the better to preserve fairness and order, the latter point being one of the prime reasons for the creation of the post of Master in the first place."

There would have been quite a few who would have argued that "order" and "Elfhamian roebuck" were opposite concepts, but I passed on quickly to my next points.

"Being that so, hear my rulings as to how the Challenge is going to proceed."

I could see Belladona Sumac's ears twitch. She'd looked somewhat despondent since the Challenge, seeing her dreams potentially dashed, and she was wondering if I was going to put the fix in, the more so since the Challenge was about a Winterbough of that Name.

"The Challenge is going to be decided by three separate Challenges, pitting Una Sawyer versus Belladona Sumac. There are no seconds in the Challenge, and each Challenger is solely responsible for their performance in a Challenge, and may accept no succor or assistance of any kind during the pendency of a Challenge, ere they be disqualified in that Challenge, based upon my sole judgement. The exception is that each Challenger may accept advice as to the Challenge they will be submitting."

"Each of the parties to the Challenge has until the setting of the sun behind Mount Humbert, tomorrow, to submit a sealed scroll containing the text of their Challenge. The scroll from each Challenger will be placed upon the Altar of Fuma, here in this Temple. Upon their respective scrolls, each Challenger will inscribe a description of the Challenge they bring to their opponent."

"The Challenge may be physical, mental or a combination thereof. It must, however, be performable by an Elf, and under no circumstances will any suggestion that could bring harm or humiliation, whether lasting or transient, to an opposing Challenger be accepted."

"In the event that each submitted Challenge is either identical, or substantially similar, in my sole judgement, one of the Challenges will be tossed out, and I, the Master of Elfhame, will decide on a Substitute Challenge."

"The Third Challenge -- and Substitute Challenge, should it come to that -- will be decided by myself, based upon a list of proposed Challenges that I have had prepared, and that I have had deposited in the lair of the wyvern-femme of the Vale for safe-keeping."

Safe as houses, that, since aside from Anastasia, Sixth and Stella, and myself of course, the deer of the Vale generally gave Windy a wide berth. A good-hearted dragon, she was, but it didn't pay (in their minds) to tempt fate.

"I will abide by the rules set forth above regarding harm and humiliation, and performance."

"The Challenges will be carried out on three consecutive days, the first to be carried out on the day following the Holy Day following, in turn, this one." I looked at my audience. "I stand ready to make any rulings, and answer any questions on the matter. I, the Master of Elfhame, have spoken on the matter."

The speech was met with applause from the roe-bucks; very surprising (to me) was that it was met with a scattering of applause from the roe-does (inclusive of a very relieved-looking Belladona Sumac). Even the [Eldest] seemed rather subdued and lost in thought.

At least until a whoop of "Hudalaleigh!" could be heard from very high above, at which point a number of fists were shaken at the ceiling.


***


Roland:

The Master’s reply, to his credit, was on my desk the same day that my query went out. That reply was, necessarily, a terse and somewhat cryptic one:

MESSAGE RECEIVED REPRESENTATIVES ARRIVE SKUNK BEAR PALACE TOMORROW THIRD HOUR

I placed the Palace Guard, even the Otters and the Shrubs, on alert, with orders to detain anyone out of the ordinary attempting to gain entrance to the Palace and to immediately notify me of the fact.

At exactly the third hour, a guard informed me that a bear mel and a skunk femme, both in some kind of uniform, had apparated outside the Palace gates, and were requesting admittance.

I ordered them to be escorted to the Hall of Statecraft. There were, I judged, sufficient armed furs to guarantee the King’s safety.



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