Volle (31 page)

It was obviously only the foyer, but it was nearly as large as Volle’s parlor. The door to the servant’s quarters was solid oak, carved with some detailed flourishes, and the walls of the foyer were paneled in a similar oak. The oak door to the parlor, which stood ajar, bore a beautifully painted crest depicting a bear, a sheaf of wheat, and a fleur-de-lis. The crest was raised as well as painted, and Barclaw let Volle pause to examine the detail, obviously pleased by the attention.

“This door was sent to us by a master craftsman from Tyrus, the largest city in Barclaw. It was a gift, so we invited him up to the palace to see it hung. He’s an aging beaver, and he was so delighted by his trip up here that he made us a set of matching chairs last year.”

He pushed the door open a little further, and Volle saw a huge, beautiful parlor. The windows were wider even than Helfer’s, and had blue velvet drapes held back with matching ropes. A cool breeze floated into the room from one of the windows; the other two were closed. Beneath each of the closed windows sat a large mahogany desk, one more piled with papers than the other, but both clearly examples of fine craftwork. The oak paneling from the foyer extended into the parlor, covering every wall save for the small area around the fireplace, which was lined with polished obsidian. Portraits adorned the walls: Lord Barclaw by himself, with another male bear, with a female bear and two cubs, and one of the female bear alone.

The other male bear sat in one of the chairs Barclaw had mentioned. They were wide, sturdy wood chairs, built to accommodate the heavy frame of a bear, but no less beautiful for that. Volle could see the crest on the back of the unoccupied one, as well as the flowery detail down the arms. The legs were bowed outward slightly, and ended in claws gripping wooden spheres.

The floor was hardwood, but covered with two lovely carpets. Volle stepped forward onto one as the seated bear got up to greet him, and sighed at how comfortable they felt on his paws.

“Farris, Lord Vinton is joining us for dinner tonight. He’s just joined the Agricultural Committee as an observer.”

“Welcome.” Farris’s voice was as deep as Barclaw’s, maybe a little deeper. He resembled his mate, if about half a foot taller. He took Volle’s paw in his and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you. Nice to meet you.”

“I noticed you at the banquet the other night. So Dewanne isn’t the only red fox any more.”

“I guess not.” Volle smiled.

“Have you met him?”

“Once or twice.” He kept his voice neutral, wondering if Farris knew about Tish’s group or not. “He’s pretty nice.”

“Just because they’re both foxes doesn’t mean they spend all their time together,” Barclaw rumbled, amused.

“I know that, Ray. Lord Vinton spends most of his time with Lord Ikling, isn’t that right?”

“Hef’s a good friend,” Volle confirmed.

“Well, we’ll just leave it at that.” Farris arched his eyebrow at Barclaw, and then waved Volle into the next room. “Come on in and sit down. I’ll grab another chair.”

The dining room was not quite as luxuriously decorated as the parlor, but was still far nicer than any other room Volle had seen in the palace. Oak paneling again, two windows in the far side with blue-green curtains, and a side table with a small sculpture formed the backdrop for the large table in the center. It was covered with a white cloth and set with two settings of china and silver, and even the wine goblets atop it were silver. A doe and a marmot were busy placing a third setting between the other two. They finished just as Farris brought another chair over from a row of four sitting against the wall.

“Thank you, ladies,” he said, and held the chair out. “Lord Vinton?”

“Thank you.” Volle sat down and let Farris push him in. The bears sat on either side of him, smiled at each other, and said a short prayer to Ursa. Volle lowered his head respectfully, though he didn’t join in. And then the dinner was served.

Farris talked nearly as much as Tika had, Volle found. He heard many of the same stories he’d heard from Tika, with minor changes, and wondered if those same stories were retold for years and years. He certainly felt sorry for Lord Oncit if that were the case. Farris spent a good deal of time speculating on his problems and the indiscretions of his wife.

“I’m on a tribunal with him,” Volle said, seizing an opportunity when Farris was chewing on a large piece of potato.

“Oh?” Barclaw spoke up for the first time. “Does he say much?”

“Not really. I did have dinner with him the other night.”

Farris swallowed, and asked, “Did he come on to you?”

Volle grinned. “Everyone asks that. No, he didn’t.”

“Was his wife there?” Farris asked knowingly.

“No, nor the servant. But he just wanted to talk.”

“Interesting,” Barclaw rumbled.

“Quite.” Farris tapped a fork against his plate. “What did he want to talk about?”

“Farris,” Barclaw chided gently. “If Oncit didn’t want to share it with his wife and servant, I’m certain he would not have wanted to share it with you.”

“He wouldn’t, but perhaps Vinton here would, eh?” He turned to Volle with a winning smile.

Volle returned the smile. “It really was just small talk and politics. He said his wife had another engagement.”

“I bet she did.” Farris looked meaningfully at Barclaw, and sat back in his chair, his mind already racing ahead. “You know, Lord Deverin postponed his troop inspection last month. That normally takes him out of the palace for a week.”

Barclaw smiled. “I’m sure Lord Vinton has other things to talk about, Farris.”

“Not really,” Volle said with a smile, which Farris took as the cue to keep on going. Volle watched Barclaw while his mate chattered on. The smaller bear ate slowly and deliberately, and watched his mate with genuine affection. Volle concentrated on his food as well, taking his time since the bears ate slower than he did. Amazingly, Farris seemed to be able to eat at the same pace as his mate without slowing his patter much.

Volle enjoyed the dinner. He found himself relaxing and letting his memories of Xiller recede. He thought of him often, especially when Farris told a particularly salacious story or when he remembered that he didn’t have to hurry through dinner. He missed the cougar, but tried hard to channel that emotion into looking forward to his return.

The three of them sat for a bit after dinner, sipping a sweet liquor that tasted expensive and talking about Volle’s past. The inevitable questions of his childhood had come up, and he answered them in good spirits. When he’d finished one glass of the liquor, he put it aside and bid his hosts good night.

“Thank you for joining us. We must do it again sometime,” Farris said, shaking his paw.

“I’d love to. You have a beautiful place here. It looks too good for the rest of the palace.”

Barclaw, taking his paw in turn, grinned. “Farris did all the decorating himself. He has a eye for it.”

“Really? It’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” For the first time that night, Farris appeared to be speechless. It lasted only a minute. As Volle was on his way out, the large bear patted his shoulder. “If you ever want a few nice things for your place, we’ve got plenty that we could loan you.”

“Thanks,” Volle smiled. “I’m sort of used to it the way it is and I’d be afraid of ruining something nice.”

“At least come and see what we have sometime.”

“All right. Good night, Farris. It was a pleasure to meet you. Good night, Lord Barclaw.”

“Good night, Lord Vinton. See you in Council in two weeks.”

He was a little bit tipsy from the liquor, which was deceptively strong, but made it back to his chambers without incident. When he collapsed in his bed, he sniffed the pillow for Xiller’s scent. Nothing. Welcis had cleaned the linens.

He sighed and called up the scent from memory, imagined his arms around the big cougar, and fell asleep.

The next day, he awoke in somewhat better spirits. After a run with Helfer in which he heard more details than he needed to about the upcoming batch of ales from Vellenland, he returned to his chambers to be informed by Welcis that Arrin had requested his company for dinner the following night, and in the conservatory in the afternoon if he was free.

He told Welcis that he would be delighted to join Arrin. The thought of seeing the fox again was a pleasant one now that Xiller was gone. He was about to go for a walk in the town and check his drop sites when there was a knock at his door. Welcis answered it, and a moment later ushered Tish into the room.

“Hello, Volle.” He extended his paw. “All ready to meet Ilyana’s parents tonight?”

Volle shook his paw and nodded. “I think so.”

“Good, good. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble. They’re nice foxes. Tika just wanted me to check in on you, make sure you weren’t nervous, that sort of thing.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” He was nervous, a little, at the thought of how deliberately rude he was going to have to be, but he’d manage.

“Good.” Tish sat down in one of the chairs and stroked his muzzle thoughtfully. “The others want to get together again too.”

Volle nodded. “I had a couple things to talk to them about too. Could you excuse us, Welcis?” The skunk bowed and retreated to the sitting room, closing the door behind him.

“What’s been happening?”

Volle told him briefly about his talks with Lord Oncit. “Is he part of the group with Lord Ikinna, do you know?”

“We don’t really even know that Ikinna’s in the group. It makes sense for him to be, but we don’t have any proof at all. Oncit…he could very well be. He’s always been quiet, and even after ten years I don’t know much about him.”

“I’ll keep talking to him.”

Tish nodded. “Keep me posted. Anything else?”

Volle hesitated. He wanted to ask about Prewitt, but that would entail talking about Xiller, and he wasn’t quite prepared to tell that whole story. Especially with Xiller being disguised as a jaguar—he was likely headed for the southern countries for whatever his mission was, and that was probably not related to the Ferrenians. “I heard a rumor that Prewitt might be involved in some espionage against the southern territories,” he said finally.

Tish waved a paw. “The southern operations don’t interest me much, though the fact that Prewitt is involved does. The southerners are hard to figure out and Fardew’s always got some scheme or another to enhance our trading position with them. But Prewitt…wonder what his interest could be. What else did you hear?”

Volle shook his head. “Nothing definite. I don’t even know what the operation is. But he dropped a couple hints that made me think he knows something about it.”

“Like what?”

“Dereath was hosting this visitor, and Prewitt knew all about him. He claimed it was just because he’d had to do the papers to process him, but he seemed more interested.”

“Makes sense for Dereath to be hosting someone. He works for Fardew, after all. How did you find out about the visitor?”

Volle sighed. He couldn’t think of a reasonable way to keep evading the issue, so he told Tish about Xiller, omitting the sexual parts. The grin on the wolf’s muzzle indicated that he’d probably filled in those parts for himself, but he kept quiet about it. “So that’s the cougar scent in here. I wondered but wasn’t going to ask. None of my business, you know. How did they paint him up like a jaguar?”

“It was some sort of fur pigment,” Volle said. “I’d never seen it before.”

He stumbled over the lie, but Tish didn’t seem to notice. “Fascinating,” he said. “I think you’re right, though. It sounds like a southern operation. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’m sure you’ll see him again before long.”

Volle returned the wolf’s grin with a sheepish one. “Hope so.”

Tish got up and stretched. “All right. You’ve got a dinner to attend, so I should let you get to that. No doubt Welcis is fretting to get you all dressed up. Oh, come now, it’s only for one night,” he said as Volle stuck his tongue out.

“I know, but still. I hate lace.”

“So do we all, m’boy. Give it another ten years to go out of style.”

“Thanks.”

“Enjoy your dinner,” the wolf said. “I’ll see myself out.” And he did.

Welcis did indeed have an armful of clothes when Volle opened the door to the sitting room. He indicated the bedroom. “If his lordship would allow me to assist him in his preparations?”

“Sure.” Volle gave the skunk a long look, but was met with unruffled equanimity. He was certain Welcis had listened to some of what was going on, but he didn’t know how much. He didn’t think the skunk would do anything that wasn’t in his interests.

Unless it involved lace, of course. After brushing him thoroughly, Welcis fixed the lace collar firmly around his neck, going over the first formal shirt he’d gotten from the palace tailor. “But I like those better,” Volle said, indicating the newer shirts Helfer’s tailor had made for him.

“I share your affection, sir, but I must point out that the older generation is unlikely to.”

“Oh, very well.” Volle submitted to the dressing without another word, staring at his window while the skunk straightened his pleats and smoothed down the wrinkles, and finally pronounced him ready to go to his dinner.