Sole Wolfess and Kid
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel and Walter Reimer

(The Sole Wolfess and Aedith ‘Sunny’ Winterbough are courtesy of E.O. Costello. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by  technicolorpie



Part Twenty.


“It is the Light’s Will that we meet. I perceive that you have met someone dressed as I am?”

“Elves Don’t Lie, I have. Was she at the Royal Remains Society?”

“She was.” The bear smiled in a manner I could only describe as ‘motherly’ as Aedith told her about the wonderful things that she’d seen since arriving in Eastness. “We in Service have not seen her since the Aerie fell.”

“She – she accompanied the Master of Elfhame when he left Eastness. She resides in Elfhame now.”

“What is her name?”

“Her name – well, the only one she uses, that is – is Nippy.”

The bear nodded as Aedith told her about the post-ball match, adding that she was going to see another one after lunch.

“And she is in Service?”

I caught the capitalized word. It was something that the ermine femme often stressed. “She is. As you are?” I asked.

“I have been in Service since before the Aerie fell,” she replied. “What I must tell you is a great secret.” I waited, and she said, “With the assistance of the remaining adherents of the Brilliant Light, we kept the old ways of Eastness, and watched and waited for the Light to reveal what It had planned for us.”

“Were there many of you, back then?”

“Yes, and we were in the houses of the nobility and quality of the realm.”

I dipped an ear. “Silent, but eyes and ears open.”

“Yes.”

I think I had it now. “This . . . Service Order, then, was an intelligence network of some sort,” I said, “but affiliated with the House of Sulfrox, yes?”

She nodded.

I had to admit, I was impressed. The Ospreys had an entire spy network undertalon, and never knew about it. Even though the royal house was no more, they had carried on.

“I am pleased that she is well. She has not reported, and we were concerned.”

“She was well when we left for Eastness, and I’m sure she’s quite all right now.”

I smiled as Aedith dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, and the bear said, “You have such good table manners, my dear.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” my daughter said politely. “Daddy’s mate has us learn good manners, even though Sixth and Dotto still make a mess.” She gazed down at the still-spotless tablecloth in front of her. “I think it’s because they’re boys, but they always get dirty and then Nippy and Tessie have to do laundry again.”

The bear’s ears flicked. “Nippy, dear?”

Aedith nodded. “She’s an ermine, and she always wears a black dress even in the summer. I heard Daddy say that she came from here. I think she must feel very lonely.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because she hasn’t been able to write or send letters, and Daddy says she can’t scry,” Aedith replied. “But she’s very hard working and very good and Daddy’s mate took her over for herself.”

“Oh, did she?” the bear asked as she directed a question to me in Elf-mind. I replied that ‘Daddy’s mate’ was Anastasia Rosebush-Aspen, the [First-of-Eldest] of Elfhame, which meant that Nippy was in service to the actual ruler of Elfhame.

The bear appeared pleased at that.

“Uh-huh,” Aedith replied. “Because Daddy’s mate wanted somefur who knew what they were doing and could make things orderly and she says that roebucks wouldn’t know order from the nose on their faces.”

I had to use my napkin to smother my laugh.

“I do think it’s hard for Nippy sometimes,” Aedith was saying, “because she’s all alone.”

She looked so downcast that the bear patted her gently on the shoulder. “Trust in the Brilliant Light, my dear. I’m sure that Nippy’s devotion will be rewarded.”


***


We were halfway to our seats at the post-ball game when I suddenly realized that I could have asked the bear (who had said that her name was Matron; about as specifically vague as ‘Nippy’) about B. E. Moth and what his angle might be. While the two teams warmed up and Sunny watched avidly, I took some time to reflect.

I had almost decided to simply give the City Guard the information that I had regarding B.E. Moth and the others when Sunny caught my attention. My daughter was sitting forward in her seat, gazing steadily at the batsfur while sketching something on a small chap-book with a stick of charcoal. She had a piece of cloth with her to wipe her paws on, which I approved of. No sense in getting her new dress dirty.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She smiled and showed me a rough sketch of how the feline at the plate was holding his bat, with a few swooping ovals to describe the arc of the bat’s swing.

It was a very good sketch, and she said, “I want to learn how to hit.”

“That’s good,” I said, feeling that she would teach the other children in Elfhame a few things when we got back. “Where did you get the chap-book?”

“Daddy gave all of us chap-books,” Aedith replied.

Hmm. Appropriate and useful, although I imagine Sixth just draws pictures of frogs, while Dotto draws detailed portraits of his favorite foods.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Actually, no, wolfess. Dotto’s shown me his chap-book, and he’s been writing down his favorite recipes.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Knowing his girth, that makes all kinds of sense.”]

I sat back, still thinking, and spotted a tall fur, a mel, wearing an overcoat and a fedora, sitting slouched back a section to my left and two rows higher.

Hmm.

“Are you going to be all right?” I asked Aedith. “I want to talk to someone.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said, watching the game intently.

“I won’t be long.”

“Okay,” and she turned away from the action on the field long enough to smile at me. I gave her a nuzzle and stood up.

The giraffe had been dozing, with his hat pulled over his eyes and a folded newspaper protruding from a pocket of his coat. I sat down beside him and asked, “Another late night, Jhonni Dinar?”

He gave a small start, pushed his hat back, and did a violent double-take when he recognized me. “Oh, for the love of – whatever it is, the answer’s no! I just got this coat broken in!”

I smirked. “All I want is information. Be thankful I didn’t just pook into your apartment.”

“Fat chance of that. Cost me ten suns to hire a magic-user to ward my place.” He gave me a sour look. “Information, huh?”

“Information.”

“No foreign interlopers and Unseelie schemes?”

“No – well, Elves Don’t Lie. Do you know of a B.E. Moth?”

That earned me a snort. “Yeah, I know him. Unseelie bastard, but strictly local talent. Why?” I explained, and he thought for a moment. “Might be because of the discovery.”

“Hm? Discovery?”

“Yeah, it’s in the papers.” He pulled the copy from his pocket and gave it to me. “This article,” he pointed out, and I read it quickly.

The article explained that the House of Sulfrox employed a number of furs as royal messengers, and to ensure their authenticity each was given a ring. Placing one ring atop the other, perpendicular to it and giving the one on end a spin would generate an image of the Crown. Any imitation could be easily caught in that manner. Sort of like the Blood Seal that the Master has, I guessed.

“Interesting,” I said. I offered to give the paper back, but he waved me off with a paw.

“Yeah. Someone like Moth would want to steal them, just to sell them to the State Council for a pile of suns,” Dinar said. “Or he could have hired those three you described as bait.”

“That was my thought. But I just wanted to talk. I have a feeling that I’m meant to deal with this.”

“Good luck then. Now, beat it, sister,” the giraffe said. “A member of the Council tried to have me arrested after you lot left Eastness.”

I was back on my feet and I looked down at him. “Really? Why?”

“’Consorting with agents of a foreign government,’” Dinar replied. “You might recall him – donkey, old guy with a beard?”

“Bearded, you say?”

“Yeah.”

I gave him my best shifty look. “Not anymore.” And with that, I rejoined my daughter as the crowd cheered one of the team’s star runners as he jogged out onto the field.




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