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Authors: Kyell Gold,Sara Palmer

Volle (30 page)

BOOK: Volle
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When they lay together afterwards, panting slightly, Volle drew his finger through a sticky area of Xiller’s fur and across one of his spots. The spot smeared, and Volle’s fingerpad left a dark smudge across the cougar’s hips. He smiled, and Xiller followed his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll need a water bath for sure. You were pretty messy—oh no!” He saw the spot and sat up, brushing at it with his own paw. The black marking smeared a bit more. “Oh, I’ve ruined it already. I can’t go back. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

Volle grasped his paw, brought it to his muzzle, and kissed it. “Shh. Don’t worry about it. Look, it’ll be hidden under your armor anyway.”

“I guess so.” The cougar scratched at the spot. “They said it wasn’t supposed to come off.”

Volle grinned at him. “Well, now you know to be careful when pawing yourself off.”

“Mmm. Good point. I guess it was a lucky chance, you smearing it there.”

Discretion warred with openness, and finally Volle confessed, “I’ve seen this sort of thing before. I was curious as to whether it was the same one.”

Xiller stared at him. “You did that on purpose?”

“Not entirely! I mean, you had a lot to do with it too.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah. I mean, you had this here, and this here, and what’s a fox to do?”

“I don’t quite get what you mean. Maybe you’d better show me.”

“Well…if that would help you understand.”

A long, loving, wonderful time later, Xiller looked up at the fox’s panting muzzle and said, “I’m aiming you at my chest this time,” and Volle laughed as he leaned over, surrendering to the physical and emotional joy coursing through him, his tail curled around Xiller’s.

And then they lay together, the fox on top, the cougar holding him in strong arms, and Volle murmured, “Now that’s what I call a good-bye.” Those were the last words he remembered uttering before the light of morning filtered through his eyelids.

Xiller woke as Volle shifted, tugging at their stuck fur. The cougar yawned and smiled up at him. “Morning.”

“Morning, you.”

They kissed, and then Volle buried his nose in Xiller’s fur. “I want to remember your scent,” he murmured. “When do you have to leave?”

“I shouldn’t even have stayed this long.” He licked Volle apologetically, rolling the fox to one side, and winced as their sticky fur protested the separation.

Volle sighed and nodded. He brushed a paw over the cougar’s fur. “I’ll miss you.”

Xiller gathered up his bushy tail and buried his muzzle in it. “I’ll miss you too,” he said muffledly, and then inhaled deeply. “I won’t forget your scent.”

Don’t cry, Volle told himself. He resisted the pressure in his throat and just nuzzled the cougar gently. “Hurry back,” he whispered.

“I’ll try.” Xiller nuzzled him back, sounding near tears himself. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to.”

“I’ll be here.” It sounded bitterer than he meant it.

Xiller’s eyes brightened. “Wait a minute.” He got up and ran out, and returned a moment later with his arms full of his leather armor. He set it down and rummaged through it.

“Here,” he said finally, holding up a small purse. “I want to leave this with you.”

“What?”

“This is the payment I’m getting.” He handed the purse to Volle. It was small, and felt like it contained a few more than ten coins. Hopefully gold, if the number was that few. “I want to leave it with you.”

“Oh…”

“I have enough of my own money for expenses. I’ll come back for that.” He smiled. “I promise.”

“All right.” Volle slid the purse under his pillow. “I’ll keep it here.”

He watched Xiller put his armor on quickly. “I’ll wash at the pub,” the cougar said, and then bent to pick up the fox. He held him to his chest and bent his muzzle for one last kiss. Volle responded eagerly, closing his eyes as he felt the cougar’s warm tongue against his. He held tight to the cougar, and the cougar held him close, and they both knew when it was time to end the kiss. They looked into each other’s eyes as Xiller lowered Volle back to the bed.

He smiled at him one last time. “Good bye, Volle.”

“Bye, Xiller. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He let his gaze travel down Volle’s body, and then returned to his muzzle. He smiled, turned, and walked out the door.

Chapter 14

 

Volle lay in bed as the cougar’s aroma faded. Half an hour later, Welcis knocked and discreetly looked in. “Sir, Lord Ikling will be awaiting you.”

“I’m not running today,” Volle said. “I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir. May I remind his lordship of his dinner appointment with the parents of Madame Rodion tomorrow evening?”

Volle sighed. “Consider me reminded, Welcis.”

“Yes, sir.” The skunk withdrew his muzzle and closed the door.

He had, in fact, forgotten that he was dining with Ilyana and her parents the following night. It was one of the steps leading up to the cotillion. Though Ilyana had assured him that her parents would love him and would agree to the courtship, he technically had to get their approval before wooing her. She had assured him that the process would go well, but he was still feeling some apprehension, which was ridiculous because he didn’t really care if the meeting went well or not. He had no intention of getting engaged to Ilyana anyway.

Tika would be angry with him, he thought, but at this point he didn’t really care about that. It would be easy to be rude tomorrow night. He just had to pine openly for his departed gay cougar lover, ignoring Ilyana entirely, and presumably her parents would be shocked at his rudeness and forbid her to marry him. And if that failed, he could get drunk.

He was still lost in his miserable reverie when another knock came at the door. “What?” he called irritably. The door opened, and Helfer walked in.

He glanced at the naked fox and shook his head. “Put a skirt on and let’s go.” He walked right to the wardrobe and rummaged through it.

Volle didn’t bother trying to cover himself. “I don’t feel like it.”

Helfer tossed a skirt onto him, neatly covering most of his sheath. “That’s exactly why you need to go. I know your cougar left, but he’s going to be gone for a while. You need to get out and get back to your life now. Go ask Arrin out to dinner or something.”

Volle sighed. “You’re not going to leave until I come with you, are you?” Helfer crossed his arms and grinned smugly at him. “Fine.”

He slid the skirt on, stood, and stretched. Helfer waved a paw. “Phew. I can smell him on you.” He grinned. “Reminds me of last night.” When Volle followed him out silently, he said, “Come on, don’t you want to hear about last night?”

Volle really only wanted to go back and bury his nose in the pillows. But Helfer was looking at him with such a wide grin, and such a sparkle in his eye, that the fox finally said, “All right, all right. What happened last night?”

“I said hi to Richy for you when he came out, but I didn’t really feel like a wolf, so I asked Tally for Pike. He’s one of the raccoons there. And just as I was about to go back, this gorgeous rabbit walks in—all white fur, about your height, and he’d dyed these stripes into his fur. Well, I’d already ordered Pike, and he was waiting, so I couldn’t really leave him there.”

Volle took his cue from the silence and asked, “So what did you do?”

They were heading down the outside stairs into the garden, and Helfer’s narrative grew more jerky as he ran. “I ran up, and asked if he wanted to join me. I said I’d pay for Pike’s time.”

“You didn’t!”

“Sure did.”

“I guess he accepted.”

“Sure. Wouldn’t you, for a freebie? Before you were a noble, anyway.”

“Probably.” He thought back to his Academy days. “Definitely.”

“So we go back and it’s not awkward at all. Pike—you’ve got to try him sometime, he’s like
this
long—he’s all ready, and we get undressed, and the rabbit watches me mount him, then he wants Pike in him, so we do a sandwich with the raccoon in the middle. Then one with me in the rabbit and Pike in me. Then there was a lot of licking.”

Volle laughed. “How many times did you come?”

“Um. Counting the licking? Four.”

“In an hour? That’s got to be a record.”

They were just entering the archway under the palace, and Helfer’s smile flashed through the shadows as he looked back. “Nope.”

Volle grinned. “You weasels.”

“And rabbits. The rabbit came about four times too. Poor Pike even came by the end of it.”

“Really? I’m impressed. I haven’t gotten Richy to finish yet.”

“We were pretty insistent.” Helfer grinned. “He has good control, but there’s only so much he can do. I left him an extra few gold pieces to make up for any business he might lose.”

Volle smiled, but fell silent as they approached the bush where they’d met Xiller only four days earlier. Helfer hung back to jog at his side until they’d passed it, and then patted his shoulder gently. “You know, a cougar tree takes about six months to fruit again.”

Caught between sadness and surprise, Volle just stared at Helfer and then started laughing. He lunged for the weasel, who skipped out of the way and then started running full bore. Volle chased him and managed to catch one paw as Helfer scrambled over the wall, but the weasel kicked free and jumped down the other side.

He stayed just ahead of Volle until the fox panted, “Enough,” and slowed down.

Helfer grinned. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Volle smiled. “Thanks. I’ll be okay. Just sad.”

“Sad is all right, but don’t let it mess up your life or my running. Got it?”

Volle nodded, grinning back. “Sorry.”

“Let’s finish up and then you can clean up and be presentable. What are you doing today?”

“I think I have some councils to sit in on. I’ll have to check with Prewitt.”

Helfer rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you, Volle. Stay away from that stuff.”

Volle grinned. “Can’t be helped.” And fortunately, Helfer left it at that.

Volle was considerably cleaner and in better spirits when he visited Prewitt’s office after his bath and lunch. The bear received him promptly and sat him down.

“Good afternoon, Volle.”

“Afternoon, Prewitt. I just came by to check on the councils.”

“Ah, yes.” Prewitt shuffled through papers on his desk. “We have the Agricultural council meeting just before dinner today for an hour. I’ll notify Lord Barclaw that you’ll be observing.”

Volle nodded, suddenly distracted by the shine of Prewitt’s golden fur in the sunlight. Xiller had mentioned a golden bear and a white fox. He hadn’t seen any white foxes at the palace, but he’d seen one golden bear, and only one.

Prewitt caught his stare and returned it curiously. “I gather from the paperwork that your visitor left this morning. Was he a courteous guest?”

Volle smiled. “All I could have asked for.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Did you ever find out what he was visiting for?” The question was asked casually, but Volle thought he could hear the tension behind it.

He shook his head. “No. He was very closed-mouthed.” About that, at least, he said silently to himself.

“Ah, well. Some mystery gives spice to life, eh?” He smiled, but the smile was as much one of relief as of humor. Volle’s fur prickled with the certainty that Prewitt knew something about Xiller, and had at least talked to him directly.

He had enough time for a leisurely walk to one of his drop sites before the council meeting. He scratched out a quick note about the fur pigment and folded it up, stuffing it into his purse before walking out.

A light drizzle dampened his fur as he walked through the city. He stayed close to the buildings, trying to stay dry, and made his way down the side streets until he got to the drop site, a rock under a bench hidden by some bushes in the park. Normally he would have sat down for a while, but the rain was getting into his clothes and the fur of his tail, so he hurried back to the palace and dried off before attending the council.

The council was led by the Minister of Agriculture, Lord Barclaw. He remained very low-key, and the council followed his lead, discussing the issue of the crop expectations from the southern provinces. Volle had introduced himself, and found himself caught embarrassingly unprepared when asked about the projections for Vinton. He told them that the governor was probably not used to having to send projections to the capital, and that he would send for them immediately.

Barclaw was very genial, and apologized afterwards for putting him on the spot. “I figured you were attending because you had figures to share,” the large bear said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you.”

Volle smiled. “I had no idea. I’ll send a message down.”

“All right.” Barclaw shook his paw. “Thanks for attending. I look forward to seeing more of you there.”

“Thank you. Oh, you know what? I have no idea how to send a message to my governor. Do we have messengers here in the palace?”

“Sure. Let me take you down there myself.”

“Oh, thank you.” Volle followed him down the corridor and stairs to the main corridor. “I have actually corresponded with my governor, but it was right after I arrived.”

“About the business with Ullik?”

Volle’s ears flattened. “Er, yes.”

Barclaw chuckled. “Ullik and I are friends, after a fashion. He likes to talk about his exploits, real and imagined. He was quite tickled by your request for forty gold. Couldn’t stop laughing while he was talking about it.”

“You’re friends?”

“After a fashion, I said. He’s a useful friend to have, so I listen to his stories and laugh at his jokes, and he does me favors from time to time. Without asking the same sort of price he asked of you.”

Volle lowered his head, and the bear patted him on the back. “Oh, come now. You’re not the first, nor will you be the last. He’s the King’s little embarrassment, but he does have a head for figures and he knows plenty of little secrets around the palace, so he sticks around. And you’re on his good side now, or at least not on his bad side.”

“Still feel humiliated,” Volle muttered.

“Look,” Barclaw said, lowering his voice as he pushed open a small door Volle hadn’t been through before. He was surprised to find that it gave onto the rear garden. The air was still cold and the light drizzle hadn’t abated, but Barclaw seemed not to be bothered by it, and Volle followed him somewhat reluctantly. “Think about it another way. He exposed himself to you. No, I don’t mean just in that way. You know something he wants. That gives you a certain amount of leverage, should you ever need anything from him.”

“I hope I’m not reduced to doing
that
again.”

“Don’t dismiss it so lightly. I know it’s probably not pleasant, but think how much worse it would be for someone who was straight.” He grinned at Volle, and the fox felt his mood lighten. “And you’ve done it once, so the worst part is over.”

“Still, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Divalia is a complex and sometimes dangerous place, Vinton. We’re often required to do things we find unsavory for our own good or our people’s good.”

“Don’t I know it.” Volle thought of what he was doing for Tish’s group, for the people of Vinton, and for the Duke back in Ferrenis.

“If sucking off Ullik is the worst thing you do here, you will have had a fantastically successful career. Here, the messenger station is here.” They were walking along a path, thankfully far from the place Volle would forever associate with Xiller, and the stables had just come into view.

“Could you please not talk about it like that?”

“The messenger station? I know, I know, I’m just kidding. Sure, if it bothers you. But trust me, one day you’ll look back and wish you could solve your problems with one blow job. Okay, there’s quill and paper here, and there’s always a messenger on duty. Hello, Tarka.”

A sleek otter had risen as they approached, and now he bowed. “Good eve, Lord Barclaw.”

“Young Lord Vinton here has a message to send to his governor. What’s the fellow’s name?”

“Anton. He’s a raccoon.”

The bear turned to Tarka. “You know where Vinton is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right. Vinton, write out your message, and Tarka here will deliver it. Have a good evening.”

“Thank you very much for the help and advice,” Volle said as he took a quill and dipped it in ink.

Barclaw started to walk down the path, and then turned. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you join Farris and I? We’d be happy to have company. We usually eat in our chambers.”

“I’d be glad to,” Volle said, pausing in his writing. “Where are your chambers?”

“If you won’t be long, I’ll just wait. It’s a nice night.”

Volle smiled, very aware of his damp tail. He scribbled the note quickly, asking Anton to send back harvest predictions as soon as possible, and then confided it to Tarka.

“Waiting for a response, sir?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very well.” He bowed. “I will be back in about a week.”

“Thank you, Tarka.” He followed Barclaw back to the palace and couldn’t resist the urge to shake himself once he got inside, though he did wait until the bear was a short ways ahead.

He was still damp, though not uncomfortably so, when they arrived at Barclaw’s chambers, on the third floor by the Bear stair. Volle stepped inside and thought for a moment that he’d stepped into a different palace.

BOOK: Volle
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