Volle (45 page)

“Wow, without your paws? Just rubbing into the sofa?” Volle grinned down at Helfer, and even Richy looked a bit curious.

Helfer nodded, still panting. “Soft…fabric…” he said, and then looked up at Volle. “You’re falling behind.”

Volle smiled, caressing Richy’s head. “You’ve been behind most of the night. I’ll be done soon. I’ll just let you get out of there.”

“Oh, if that’s what you’re waiting for…” Helfer squirmed, and Volle heard a slick sound as Richy’s member slid out of him. The weasel dropped to the floor and sat there, turning his head to watch Volle, giving him a “go ahead” nod.

Volle noticed that there was indeed a large wet spot on the couch beneath Richy’s stomach. The wolf kept himself off the couch, on his paws and knees as he lowered his muzzle over Volle’s erection. This time, his tongue did its work quickly and insistently. Volle clutched the couch back and seat with his paws, his body shivering all over, and he even imagined for a moment that it was Xiller whose muzzle was caressing him so wonderfully. He let himself enjoy that fantasy for only a moment, then wrenched his eyes open and forced himself to watch Richy’s lupine muzzle sliding up and down along his length.

His knot was already so tight he thought it might burst, and his breath was coming in short pants. Richy’s muzzle and tongue brought him to the edge and held him there for several seconds, while his body tensed and gathered energy, and finally he couldn’t hold back any longer. His climax arched his back, pressed his hips up into Richy, forced his sheath into the wolf’s muzzle and his member almost back against the wolf’s throat. He came in shuddering spurts, feeling as though a spring he hadn’t realized was inside him was being released all at once. His muscles unwound and relaxed as he moaned loudly, bucking up into Richy less each time, until finally he settled back into the couch.

Helfer got up and stretched, grinning. “Hope you didn’t wake up Caresh. That felt good, huh?”

Volle nodded, panting. He kept scratching behind Richy’s ears as the wolf swallowed and opened his muzzle, giving Volle an affectionate lick along his sensitive length. Volle squirmed, pushing the wolf’s muzzle away good-naturedly.

“Oh, you’re not done yet,” Helfer called. He was digging in his chest and came back holding something behind his back. “Turn around and lie on your back,” he told Richy, gesturing with his paw.

The wolf obeyed, with a half-smile on his muzzle. His erection was still full and his knot was about half-swollen. Volle reached out and brushed a paw along his soft white sac while he watched Helfer. The weasel had turned with his back to Volle, so Volle could see that what he held was some sort of ridged, polished wooden thing.

He waved it at Volle. “Take that, and slide it into him when I tell you.”

Volle reached out and took it, turning it over in his paw. It was shaped like a wolf’s penis, with a small knot at the end and a handle behind that. Rather than being an exact copy of the shape, however, it had six small ridges in it, each one circling the shaft, evenly spaced from the tip to the knot. Volle ran his fingers over the ridges, which were only raised about half an inch, and rolled smoothly into the main surface. “Where did you get this?” he asked as Helfer straddled the wolf.

“Oh, around,” Helfer said with a grin. Volle saw Richy’s head crane up, trying to see what he held, so he put it down quickly and hid it with the wolf’s tail. Richy lay back down with a smile, but his tail twitched a bit anxiously.

Helfer handed Volle the jar of cream after applying a bit more to himself, then guided Richy’s erection up under his tail, settling down on it with a sigh. Volle watched the length disappear and felt a brief stirring in his sheath, but his energy for the evening was mostly spent. He couldn’t imagine how Helfer could still be erect, much less bouncing up and down on the wolf as he was, but he supposed it came with being a weasel. Or a rabbit.

“Oh, Volle,” Helfer panted, “Now, now!”

Volle quickly smeared some cream on the wooden dildo and pressed it carefully against the small hole between Richy’s legs, moving his sac out of the way. Helfer’s bouncing didn’t help things, but he finally found the right spot and pressed, working it further in. He heard Richy’s gasp as the first ridge slid into him, felt the tension at the second, and then each of the next three was met with a soft “Oh” of pleasure.

Helfer was thrusting himself down quite hard now, muttering, “Come on, I want to feel that knot…come on, wolf…” and Richy was squirming as Volle pulled the toy out and thrust it back in. “There it is, it’s starting…yes, like that…oh! Push it all the way in, Volle, all the way!”

He was forcing himself down now on Richy’s very large knot, and squeaked as it popped into him, panting and moaning very fast, his little body shuddering violently. Volle pushed, and pushed a little harder, and with a little wriggling, the wooden knot slid into Richy, sending the wolf into similar shudders, though his moans were much lower-pitched and softer.

Volle watched the two writhe together, holding on to Richy by the toy’s handle and wriggling it until the wolf yelped for him to stop. “Please!” Volle relented, and the wolf lay back on the couch, panting hard, tail thumping the fabric.

Helfer was slumped against the back of the couch, panting too. He turned to see the handle and Volle’s grip on it, and nodded. “Good. Don’t want to…lose that in there.” He winked at Volle.

Richy lifted his head. “Lose it?”

“Don’t worry,” Volle said. “I’ve got a good hold on it. See?” He wriggled it again, making Richy whine.

“Oh, don’t tease him,” Helfer said. “He’s done a good night’s work.”

“And then some.” Volle smiled. “I’ll pay for it.”

“I can take care of it.”

“You went out and got him. It’s okay, Hef. I feel better. Really.” And he did, though mostly physically. He’d managed to forget about his problems—almost—for a short time. Watching Helfer with Richy had been arousing, but Helfer’s casual ordering about of the wolf had also reminded him that people use other people all the time to get what they want. Sometimes, in rare cases, they pay for it, or make it enjoyable for the person being used, or both. But that couldn’t happen all the time. If he was going to be successful, then he was going to have to use people, and he wouldn’t always be able to make it pleasant for them.

Not Richy, though, if he could help it, and never Helfer. He swore that to himself. The weasel was apolitical and a good friend, which made him at the same time useless and inestimably valuable. He felt bad enough having taken advantage of his secret passage to go meet Seir, and he promised Helfer silently that he would never again put him in danger if he could at all help it. He reached out and squeezed the weasel’s shoulder with his free paw, sealing his silent promise to himself.

Helfer smiled back at him, panting. “Well, I could go another round…in a bit…but I think our wolf is all worn out.”

“Looks like it.” Volle grinned affectionately at Richy. “Maybe you should put him back.”

Helfer nodded. “I think I will, in a bit.”

Volle stood. “And I think I’ll go to bed.” He let Helfer slip his paw into the toy’s handle, then tugged his pants on. Leaning over, he touched his nose to Helfer’s, then bent over to give Richy’s nose a lick. The wolf licked back and smiled. “Thank you both. I needed this.”

Helfer patted him. “Thanks for staying. And for sharing.”

“See you soon,” Richy said.

A thought occurred to Volle, and he stopped on his way out. “Richy? I think you should watch out for a rat from the palace, named Dereath. He said something about trying to get at you.”

“I can defend myself,” Richy said. “Anyway, he came by already. Tally threw him out when he started yelling.”

Volle sighed, uneasiness creeping into his stomach. Dereath wasn’t going to leave him alone, but at least he couldn’t get at Richy or Ilyana. And Arrin…Volle didn’t think Arrin would be an issue. “All right. Good. Just take care, okay?”

“I will.”

“See you tomorrow,” Helfer said.

“Maybe not. I have an appointment. If I’m out in time, I’ll join you.”

The weasel looked at him questioningly, then nodded. “All right. Good night.”

“Good night, you two.” He slipped past the curtain and out the door.

Chapter 20

Welcis was asleep when he got back. He put the appointment with the king out of his mind for the moment, and went back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Going immediately to his bed, he reached under the pillow and drew out the small pouch of coins. The starlight was bright enough for him to see the stitching on the pouch. He teased open the drawstring with a claw, and hesitated, then reached in and drew out a coin.

The face of a jaguar stared back at him.

He turned the coin over and read with some difficulty the name of the southern kingdom: Terrialis. The relaxation he’d achieved over the last hour began to dissipate. He shook the pouch out into his paw. All the coins were the same. Southern coins: evidence, not reward.

He closed his paw around them and growled softly before replacing them in the pouch. He slid the pouch under the pillow, undressed, and lay in bed wondering what he would say to the king. The anger roiling in him again kept him awake for close to an hour before he finally succumbed to sleep.

Welcis woke him in the morning by laying out clothes on the bed. “Good morning, sir,” he said with a bit of cheer. “Your appointment with the king is in just over half an hour. Just enough time to get dressed and prepared.”

Volle rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What am I supposed to be prepared for?”

“His Majesty’s messenger did not say. The meeting is informal, so I suspect no preparation is needed. But his lordship must be dressed appropriately.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Volle flicked his ears, which felt muzzy from sleep, and yawned again. He let Welcis dress him in a semi-formal outfit, with a nicely ruffled yellow shirt and matching pants. The skunk smoothed the front of the shirt out several times, then brushed off the short black hairs that had clung to the fabric.

“Your lordship knows the way?”

“It’s the audience chamber, right?”

“No, sir. The informal audience is in the King’s chambers, in the receiving room. Shall I accompany you?”

“Yes, thank you, Welcis.”

“My pleasure, sir.” The valet inclined his head, and led Volle out of the chambers and into the corridor. They walked to the Bear staircase and up all three flights of it, then down to a richly painted door detailed with reliefs of bears. Two guards stood in front of the door, both bears with impressive-looking swords at their sides.

Welcis walked up to them. “Lord Vinton to see his Majesty.”

One bear held out a large paw. “Wait here.” He opened the door and walked inside, closing it behind him. A moment later, he reappeared, gesturing to Volle with a paw. “You can go in. You wait outside,” he said to Welcis.

Volle walked through the door, which the bear closed behind him, remaining outside. He had walked into a large room, decorated with velvet curtains and tapestries, with four windows on the far wall. Between the second and third window stood a round table with five chairs around it. Two of the high-backed wooden chairs were occupied, but with the bright windows on either side of them, Volle couldn’t discern any details about the figures other than a general bear shape.

“Come in, Lord Vinton,” one of the figures said as he paused, trying to catch scents on the air. The King was the one on the left, he was almost sure, but it was the other who’d spoken. His scent was only vaguely familiar. He guessed at the identity.

“Thank you, Lord Alacris.” He bowed, and then bowed more deeply to the figure on the left. “Good morning, your Majesty.”

He heard the King’s deep chuckle. “The noses of the children of Canis are rightly praised. Come forward.”

Volle walked over a thick carpet until he was standing at the table. Alacris gestured for him to have a seat, so he pulled back one of the chairs and did so.

“We were most saddened to hear of the charges brought against you by Talison,” the King rumbled. “Secretary Prewitt assures me that they will be disproven soon. I hope they have not been too much of an inconvenience for you.”

Volle shook his head. “No, thank you, your Majesty. I only regret the circumstances that led to their appearance.”

“Most diplomatic. We will have words with Talison regarding his personal grudges. When the charges have been disproven, of course. It is a serious thing, to accuse a Lord of treason.”

“Treason?” Volle kept his tail from twitching. Surely he’d only been accused of fraud.

“You presented yourself to us as Lord Vinton and swore fealty to this throne. If you did so without meaning it, the crime is treason. But this is not the place to discuss pointless semantics. Alacris?”

The other bear shifted. “You have possibly heard about the unfortunate happenings recently in Ferrenis.”

“I heard the prince was…” Murdered. “Killed. By someone pretending to be what he was not.”

“Someone you knew, we think.” Alacris fixed him with dark eyes. “The assailant was described to the court as ‘a very large cougar painted to look like a jaguar.’ They said, in fact, that he was as large or larger than a bear. You were seen with a cougar matching that description around the palace a month ago, and it came to our attention recently that one of the footservants saw that same cougar painted to look like a jaguar.”

Volle sighed and nodded. “His name was Xiller.” He focused on his grief, not his anger. He didn’t have enough proof to tell the king about the setup yet, and he wanted to wait to hear what the king thought about the incident. It sounded like he hadn’t known about it. “I didn’t know anything about what he was doing. He didn’t tell me. I only know that he was originally here with Dereath Talison.” That last sentence had come to him as he was wondering what he could tell the king, and he congratulated himself on finding a bit of information that was not only true, but might get Dereath in trouble.

The king and Lord Alacris glanced at each other. “The same Talison who…?”

“Yes.” Volle shrugged. “He seemed very upset when Xiller left his chambers to stay with me. Perhaps…” He let the sentence trail off, allowing them to draw the very clear conclusion from it.

The bears shifted in their chairs. “We will have to have a talk with young Talison about several issues, I think,” the king said. “Is there anything else you can tell us, Vinton?”

Volle searched his thoughts. That he was a gentle, innocent cougar? They didn’t want to hear it, and he didn’t want to say it again. He shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“If you do think of something, you will let us know.” Alacris said that, and it was not a question.

“Of course.” Volle said, and then, taking advantage of the fact that they were slow to dismiss him, said, “Who would have sent him on such a mission?”

They exchanged glances again. “That is what we’re trying to find out,” Alacris said. “The King would never condone such an attack, but until we can find the originator, there will be suspicion that it was approved by his Majesty.”

“Do the Ferrenians think that?”

“They are not certain enough to take any action.” The King shifted, and leaned forward, his massive upper body resting on the solid wooden table. Volle could smell him clearly now, and caught some of his underlying mood: he smelled and sounded cautious and a little worried. “But they are suspicious. They do not know that he came from this palace, but it is only a matter of time before their spies find out.”

Volle tapped the table. “So it is imperative that you find out quickly.”

“That we find out quickly, yes.” Alacris’s sentence gently included Volle in the ‘we.’

“It was a horrible thing to do.”

“Yes,” the king said, cutting off Alacris’s answer. “It was a strike against the family, and now the country will be united as one family against the aggressor. That is why we must know who it is. If we can help punish…then there will be less danger to us.”

“They probably thought that painting him as a jaguar would make the Ferrenians think he was from the south. Then they’d be angry at the south.”

Again, the king looked at Alacris for a long time, and this time it was Alacris who replied, slowly. “That is what we believe, yes.”

“I didn’t know there was fur paint that could disguise a cougar as a jaguar.” Volle felt emboldened and looked innocently at them as he posed the implicit question.

Alacris coughed. “Yes, it is something we’ve been working on. Experimental. Wasn’t supposed to be used, just for cosmetics, you understand…a bit more permanent than the fur dyes we’ve been using.”

He doesn’t lie very well, Volle noted. Outwardly he just nodded. “Shouldn’t you have Lord Fardew looking into this?”

“We do. And we will ask him about Talison’s involvement next time we see him.” Alacris set his paw down on the table. “Thank you for your time, Lord Vinton. We look forward to seeing you cleared of these charges.”

“As do I.” Volle rose and bowed once to each, then turned and walked quickly to the door.

“Welcis,” he said as they walked back to his chambers, “did you see Xiller that last morning?”

The skunk looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I did, sir.”

“So you noticed the paint.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“I…fear I did, sir.” He hung his head. “I hope I have not caused his lordship any trouble.”

“Not more than I deserve, Welcis.” He sighed. “Where is Lord Ullik’s office? It was by the stairs, that way…”

“Yes, sir. Over here and down this corridor.” He seemed relieved not to be talking about the cougar any more.

“Thank you, Welcis.” He strode ahead, intending to leave the skunk behind.

“Sir?”

He spun on one paw and turned. “Yes?”

“Sir, Lord Ullik is not likely to be in at this hour. He is most likely taking his lunch.”

“Lunch. So I’ve missed the run with Helfer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I have the tribunal this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right. I’ll see Ullik tomorrow.” He set off back the way they’d come, and Welcis followed him.

At lunch, he realized that it was the first time he’d taken lunch with the other lords in several days. Out of habit, he sat next to Oncit, though ingratiating himself with the wolf was the last thing on his mind.

“Been celebrating?” the wolf said sourly.

“Pardon?”

“You heard about the Ferrenian prince, right? Assassinated. You couldn’t be happier, could you? Your enemies getting their comeuppance.”

“Comeuppance?” Volle saw bitterness in the angle of the wolf’s ears, and heard it in his voice. Clearly, he wasn’t happy about the assassination either. Could he have been wrong? Was Oncit not involved? In any case, he was still feeling too raw to hide his emotions. “A cowardly act like that, a comeuppance? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Yes, I wanted to defeat them; yes, I wanted to win our glory back, but in honorable combat, on the field of battle, not sneaking in the night like thieves and bandits. All that act accomplished was to unite their country in grief, and from what I hear, possibly turn their eyes to us in anger. I ask you, why would I be happy about that?” Some of his raw grief leaked into his voice despite himself; he tried to tune it out by improvising. “How do I want them? Divided, quarreling amongst themselves, and unready to meet us in battle. I want to beat them in combat, not with craven tactics like this.”

Oncit was staring at him, and the lords who had turned their ears or heads to listen to him applauded briefly. He noticed Ikinna among them, and the weasel raised a paw. “Hear, hear! Couldn’t have said it better. We’ll beat those heathens in a fair fight—no need to go sneaking in the night.”

Volle gave the weasel a comradely nod, as his cronies cheered his words. Oncit was still staring at him, and as the other lords turned away, their talk a little more animated, Volle said quietly to Oncit. “So, tell me. What should I have been celebrating?”

“I stand corrected,” said the wolf quietly, and he said not another word through the whole lunch.

They only dealt with one case on the tribunal, a simple matter of inheritance that they ruled on unanimously. After that, the rest of the afternoon was passed quietly. Volle sat apart from Oncit and Boursin while they played a dice game, brooding over his own thoughts. Ullik would have to wait until tomorrow, and tomorrow was Gaiaday; there were the services, and Ullik didn’t usually do business after that. Perhaps he could corner him on the way back from services and take him to his office. He hoped he would be allowed to attend services. Since the whole palace went en masse, papers weren’t checked. He would ask Welcis when he got back.

Thinking about the services brought him back to Fox and Canis. He still felt that he was meant to learn a lesson from the past events. Not to let attachments obscure his purpose? Seir had already made it clear that he needed to learn that, and he was sure it would be a long time before the memory of Xiller let him give himself to anyone else. He could think of the big cat now without the throat-closing grief of the first day after he’d heard the news, but the name still elicited a sadness that wouldn’t pass for a long time, if ever.

To defend and honor his family? He had been doing that. He supposed he could consider Seir, Reese, Tella, and Sherr as part of his family, but they hadn’t been betrayed by him any more than his real family had. The royal family had suffered much more, but what else could he do for them?