Pendant of Fortune (4 page)

“
Can you smell that?” Streak turned and moved aside, leaving room for Volle to poke his muzzle out of the door. “Fresh lemons!”

Volle nodded and grinned, taking the proffered space and inhaling. The air currents brought smells similar to those he’d grown used to on the farm, but these were deeper and richer. He could tell with his eyes closed that the soil was more fertile here. “Smells a bit better than our farm, doesn’t it?”

“
Our farm smells fine,” Streak said. “This is better land, that’s all.” He breathed in again. “They take good care of it.”

“
That’s all I meant.” Volle nuzzled the wolf. “We take good care of our farm, too.”

“
Thanks to Kayman.”

“
And to you.”

Streak smiled, and drew his muzzle back into the carriage, closing the door when Volle followed suit. “I did the best I could. But the climate’s a little different than I’m used to. Without Kayman, I think our fields would have flooded.”

“
We’re learning.” Volle put an arm around the wolf, but his thoughts of the future weren’t of the farm.

“
Oh, look!” The carriage was rounding a curve, and coming into view atop a large hill in the distance was what Volle assumed was Helfer’s palace. It looked from this distance to be built of the same grey stone that was ubiquitous in Tephos, and it followed the model of the King’s palace in Divalia: a low, walled structure with narrowed slits for windows. The Vellenland model, in contrast to its urban cousin, had three tall towers, which Volle thought defined the shape of the palace, though it was a bit far to tell for sure. Atop each tower a fluttering pennant flew, and again, it was too far to tell for sure what the designs on the pennants were.

This palace resembled the Divalia palace, albeit smaller, but it was much more elegantly presented. Volle could understand why Streak was still staring at it. Its perch atop the hill and the graceful curve of the wall between the towers gave it an elegant, haughty air, and because it wasn’t surrounded with similarly grey buildings, it stood out from the rest of the landscape.

“
What a view they must have,” Streak murmured.

“
It looks old. Probably dates to before Vellenland was part of Tephos.”

“
When was that?”

“
Few hundred years ago. King…now I’ve forgotten his name. Anyway. He was King of Tephos province, and he united the other five provinces under his rule. We can ask Tish more about him. I’m sure he knows.”

“
Tish?”

Volle froze for a moment, then realized that in that context, there was nothing to worry about. “Lord Tistunish. He’s a wolf, friend of mine. He’s helping in the hearing and he’ll be there. He knows all the history I do, and much more.”

“
Is he pretty old?”

“
In his sixties, I think. Old enough.”

“
Wow.” Streak nodded.

The carriage turned again, and the castle moved out of their view. Out of the other side, they could see the road that led up the hill. Before they reached it, they would pass through the town at the base of the hill. The cluster of buildings, at this distance, looked like it lay under a brick-red blanket. As they approached, the individual roofs became visible, and soon they could see the white brick walls and the red tiles on the roofs.

As they passed the first buildings, the dusty, crowded smell made its way into the carriage. It had a distinctly musteline air to it, rich and musky. Volle didn’t bother to try to sort out the scents, just let them drift past his nose, all the inhabitants of Ikling, their houses and food and clothing, and the plants and animals that lived in the town with them.

“
Public house okay?” the driver called down cheerfully. “There’s one up ahead for out-of-towners.”

“
For now, yes,” Volle called back. He wondered briefly why this pub was particularly for foreigners, but didn’t ask. “We’ll probably be going up the mountain later today, though.”

“
Oh, staying with the governor?” The driver whistled. “Very nice.”

He pulled around back of a public house called the “Cup and Barrel,” and tended to the horses while Volle and Streak made their way to the front. Like most of the other buildings in the town, the pub was made of a soft white brick and the roof was flat red tile, though this building was taller than its neighbors. The streets were white with dust, so that their paws kicked up clouds with every step and were soon frosted with white as well. The change wasn’t noticeable on Streak’s paws, which were already white, but the white dusting on Volle’s black paws made him look old. He scuffled his paws against the backs of his legs to clean them before they walked into the building.

The pub was moderately crowded, which struck Volle as odd for the middle of the day. Looking around the clientele, he noticed that many of them were young, and many bore crests that were familiar to him from his days at the palace. Squires, pages, personal servants maybe. He led Streak up to the bar and waited several moments for the bartender to notice him.

The harried-looking weasel, Volle noticed, was at his eye level. Glancing behind the bar, he saw that the floor there was raised about three feet, probably to enable the weasel to look his taller customers in the eye. The barmaids were all weasels, with the exception of one vixen, but they had no trouble reaching the tables. He did notice that when they went to pick up drinks, they walked around to the side of the bar where there was a step.

“
Just a moment, sahr,” the weasel said as he scooted past Volle for the fourth time. “Be right with you.”

Volle nodded, his gaze wandering around trying to identify crests. He pointed them out to Streak. “Over there, that’s Lord Villutian’s crest. He’s a bear. I met him a few times.” He scanned a few other crests. “Don’t know those…that’s Lord Alister’s crest there.” He indicated a mouse, ears drooping, eyes half-lidded. “He’s the Steward and probably very busy. Surprised Jerish was able to slip away.”

“
You know him?” Streak said in an undertone.

“
Jerish? Yes, but not that well.” His eyes drifted downwards as he thought of Alister’s former assistant, a fox named Arrin who had been interested in him when he first arrived at the palace. Arrin had left the year before Volle’s capture, taking a position as a clerk with a lawyer in the city.

“
Will he recognize you?”

Volle looked up from his reverie. “He looks wiped out. I don’t think he’d recognize Alister if he were sitting right across from him.”

The bartender had come up behind them. “Yes, sahr?” He looked a bit suspicious, and Volle wondered how much he’d heard.

“
Two ales, please, and can you tell us how to get up to the governor’s residence?”

The weasel filled two mugs and brought them over. “Governor’s residence is up the mountain. Follow the main road out of town, it don’t go nowhere else.” His eyes measured them. “But you’ll likely be staying at the old palace with the King and the Lords from the city. That’s further up the mountain, end of the road.”

“
Thanks.” Volle left a gold piece on the counter. “Keep the change.”

The bartender’s expression didn’t change, but his tone was much more polite as he said, “Thank you, M’Lord. May your stay in Ikling be pleasant.”

Volle lifted his tankard. “It’s beginning wonderfully.”

The weasel flashed a quick smile before scooting away to deal with another customer. Streak lapped at his ale while Volle kept sipping his, examining the room over the lip of the tankard.

“
See someone else you recognize?” Streak asked softly.

Volle shook his head. “No. Sorry, force of habit. Checking out a crowded room.” He didn’t mention the rabbit in the corner, the one who seemed to be looking away whenever Volle was looking at him, but who looked back when he thought Volle had looked away. Just because Dereath wasn’t here didn’t mean they didn’t have to be careful, but he didn’t want to worry Streak. It was possible the rabbit was just curious and shy. And well-dressed. Volle tried to see if his clothing sported a crest, but he couldn’t make any out.

“
This ale is pretty good. I guess everything I heard about Vellenland is true.”

Volle nodded. “The meads are better, but I didn’t want to get too tipsy before going up to the mansion.”

“
I never liked mead anyway.”

“
You’ll have to try the apricot. It’s wonderful.”

Streak grinned. “Maybe tonight.”

Volle smiled back distractedly. The rabbit was getting up and about to leave, but Volle still couldn’t see any mark on his clothes. He committed as much of his appearance to memory as he could: small for a rabbit, about the height of the weasels, and wearing a plain linen shirt and leather trousers. There was a cloak folded over his arm that was plain dark blue, and if there was a mark on that, it was hidden by the folds.

When the rabbit had left, Volle downed the rest of his ale. “We should get out of here.”

Streak finished his ale in two more swallows, and nodded. He followed Volle out of the crowded pub and around back to the stables, where they found their driver talking to a short weasel wearing Ikling’s colors. When he saw them coming, the weasel smiled and saluted cheerfully. He was about three and a half feet tall, half a foot short of Helfer’s height (as Volle remembered) and a good two feet shorter than Volle himself. His leather trousers were dyed a rich forest green, as was the vest he wore over a ruffled white shirt. His ears were upright, matching the good humor of his smile.

“
Lord Vinton?” Volle nodded. The weasel stuck out a paw. “I’m Huster, Governor Burren’s steward. Lord Ikling sent me down to wait for you.”

“
Pleased to meet you. This is Streak.” He’d acquired the habit of introducing the wolf by the nickname Volle had given him, as Streak never offered his real name. He hadn’t even told Volle, who suspected that it had to do with the life he’d given up. He didn’t press. He was happy enough to have the wolf at his side, under whatever name he preferred.

Huster shook his paw, then Streak’s, and motioned to the carriage. “May I ride back up with you?”

“
Certainly. After you.”

Huster insisted that Volle and Streak precede him, and after an exchange of courtesies they were all seated inside the carriage. As the driver maneuvered through the narrow streets, Huster settled back in the carriage seat and smiled at Volle, beside him, and then across at Streak.

“
We have about half an hour, and Lord Ikling thought you might be interested in some of the history of the area. Do you have any questions I can answer?”

Volle nodded. “I’m a bit surprised you were free. Aren’t you rather busy?”

Huster chuckled and crossed his legs, clasping his paws behind his head. “Lord Alister was kind enough to take over most of the scheduling duties for the King’s visit. Some folk might be miffed that he’d taken it away, but not me. I can use the vacation. So I’m just responsible for the governor, as usual, and he’s mostly attending the royal functions anyway.”

Volle grinned. “Are all the Ikling natives weasels?”

“
Mustelids, yes.”

“
And why are we staying at the old palace, and not the governor’s residence?”

“
Ah.” Huster tapped his nose and grinned widely. “
You
are not. Lord Ikling felt that you would be better accommodated by quarters close to his, away from the rest of the royal party. He did not disclose to me the reasons, and I didn’t ask.”

“
All right. So why is the King staying in the old palace? Not enough room in the governor’s mansion?”

Huster grinned even wider. “You might say that. It all ties in with the history of Vellenland, and of Ikling.”

Volle leaned back against the carriage wall. “All right, all right. Tell us the history.”

The weasel’s short tail wagged quickly. “Vellenland has always been a richly gifted land. Its name comes from an ancient Felid word
vellis
, meaning sweet. The Felids were the first rulers here, before the Panbestian Church, and Vellenland was actually one of the last to accept the Church, even though the prophet Gaïs was said to have stopped here in person.” He paused. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing, the place where he delivered the “bounty of the earth” sermon is about fifty miles south of here.”

“
Not familiar with that one,” Volle said, and Streak shook his head too.

“
Well, it’s not one of the better known ones, and it’s in the book of Felis anyway.”

“
So what happened to the cats who ruled here?”