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Pillar of White Flame
© 2015 by Walter Reimer
This is a sequel to The Gray Tower, which is a sequel to The Black Chapel. It’s not really necessary to read the previous two stories, but they provide important plot points and great yiff, so you’re missing out if you don’t. Just saying.
Art by
whitearabmare
_______________________
Part 13.
The door opened, and Ast looked up as the Queen asked, “Could you come in, Master Jerofer?”
The wolf nodded and followed her inside. The King was standing, his good paw holding onto the bed post to steady himself. Falra stood beside him and she said, “Master Jerofer, I’m – we’re - very aware of how much you don’t want anything to complicate Aroki’s recovery.” She smiled up at her mate, who leaned over and kissed her. “Still,” she asked, “is there any way you could help him that won’t put him at risk?”
The wolf clasped his paws together and closed his eyes for a moment. One of his greatest problems was convincing layfurs that members of the Order, particularly Healers, were not capable of miracles.
His eyes opened. “Your Majesties,” he said, bowing slightly, “I can increase the rate at which the King recovers, as I said. But I will do it in slow steps, at my pace.” He raised a paw as the royal buck started to protest. “I am adamant about this, Your Majesty. I have an obligation to you as my patient – I must not allow you to come to harm.”
Aroki nodded, glancing at his wife before licking his lips and saying, “Do as . . . you think best, Asst.”
Jerofer closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them they were glowing silver. “Sit, Majesty,” he said, his tone sounding distant as the King complied. He walked forward and placed his right palm against the left side of the elk buck’s head.
It was like the worst maze in the waking world – a brain always was – and the areas affected by the King’s stroke were visible as darkened tangles. He tiptoed around them, isolating and reinforcing small bits that showed less damage. Then he let a small flow of power seep into the nerves and vessels that were already bypassing the dead zone.
Falra gasped as Aroki’s right paw clenched and her mate groaned aloud. The wolf broke the contact and she whispered, “Is – will – “
The same paw lifted and took her paw. She looked down to see Aroki smiling at her. There was very little sign of the droop that had given the right side of his face a permanent grimace.
The buck blinked and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before he said, “I . . . I feel fine, Falra.”
The doe’s eyes went wide. After a moment she squealed in joy and hugged her mate as Master Ast said, “Majesties, please listen to me.” He waited until after she had stopped kissing the King and said, “What I have done is only a tiny step. I will wait and study the effects before I do anything more.” He bowed. “I must go now, and write some notes about this. What I have done may be useful in the future, or at least offer a fruitful line of research.”
Aroki nodded. “Thank you, Ast.”
***
Arkoni was having lunch in their quarters when Ast came in. The priest cocked an eyebrow as the wolf closed the door and leaned against it, sighing wearily. “I take it your bit didn’t go exactly as planned,” Arkoni said. He gestured at the table. “Come over and eat something, you look exhausted.”
“Thanks,” and the Master sat down heavily after removing the cloak that was part of what people expected a magic-user to wear. It was a silly affectation, and right now Ast felt like he was stifling in it. He grabbed a meat pasty and started eating as Arkoni poured him a cup of wine. “I examined the King.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He and the Queen had me try something to speed up his recovery.” He set the pasty aside, drank some wine and explained what he’d done to the priest.
The priestly wolf’s ears perked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Very. The stress of it could damage his heart. So I compromised.”
“Just a baby step?” Ast had drank off half the wine in his cup in one long swallow, and Arkoni refilled it. “Is that wise?”
“It could have killed him – “
“I didn’t mean that.” Ast paused in mid-chew, a chicken leg in his paw. “I meant was it wise to even do it just that little bit?” Arkoni asked.
“There is that risk, of course.” Ast took another bite, and washed it down with a swallow of wine. “But I have described the risks, and I told them in no uncertain terms that I won’t be rushed or forced.”
“Their Majesties could demand the Order – “
“The Order won’t overrule my medical opinion,” the wolf said flatly. He spread butter on a roll. “How are Seffa and her child?”
“Hmm, well, if we could get her out of Meki’s paws I’d be well-pleased, for a start.” Ast blinked and Arkoni sat back, moodily gazing into his wine cup. “She’s terrified of him, Ast – her heartbeat went straight up when he took her by the paw.”
Jerofer nodded. “It’s an open secret in the Royal Keep that he beat her before she got pregnant. I just hope that the fawn’s a buck, or he just might kill her in her childbed.”
“Couldn’t you tell?”
“Tell what?”
“Whether she’s carrying a buck or a doe?”
Ast laughed humorlessly. “As if he’d allow me anywhere near her.” He suddenly yawned, and glared at his cup. “Did you – “
“Yes, it’s just a mild soporific,” Arkoni said. “You haven’t been getting much sleep, and it was decided to urge you along a bit.”
“Who? And how?”
“Masters Dinest and Kulorn,” the priest replied, “and I’m told that they fused the drug to the inside of the cup, to dissolve when the wine was added.” Ast, already looking drowsy, glared at Arkoni. “Don’t take on so, Ast. It’s for your own good.”
“Might’ve known it was Marok and Ranli,” Ast said around a yawn. He got up from his chair, swayed, and staggered over to his cot.
Arkoni thought that Ast had fallen asleep halfway to the mattress.
***
”. . . His attack was similar to what a tapster does at an inn. Like driving a tap into a keg, Amb’s spell was designed to siphon power from me and send it to him. It was forbidden to be taught that, and it took a while to determine the truth; somehow Amb had discovered the journals of Jeresh the Black, a rogue member of the Order who lived generations ago.”
Halvrika stopped writing and laid her quill aside as she heard someone knocking on the door. The raccoon sow got up, feeling her knees protest at the long stretch of inactivity, and went to answer the door. “Yes – oh, hello Chama.”
The ermines had a tray in her paws. “I figured you might be hungry, Halvrika,” she said as she swept past the raccoon, “so I managed to get this past the cook before the fires were banked in the kitchen.”
“Before the fires were banked?”
Chama blinked. “It’s almost the third hour past sundown, and that’s chludach-doiteain.” At Halvrika’s blank look she explained, “By law we have to cover, bank or put out cooking fires at a certain time every night. It’s supposed to be so that peoples’ houses don’t catch fire.”
Finally the coin dropped. “Oh, a curfew,” the sow said. “We have something similar down south, just under a different name.” She sniffed, and promptly blushed as her stomach growled. Chama giggled, and laughed harder as Halvrika pouted at her. “So, what did you bring?”
“Some sliced beef,” Chama laughed, “with rolls, carrots stewed in honey and some wine. Oh, and some honey cake.” The ermine femme grinned, then laughed again as she heard another growling sound. She made shooing motions with her paws. “Go on, eat!”
“Would you sit and talk, while I eat?” Halvrika asked.
The maid shrugged and grabbed an extra chair. “Sure,” and she sat down as the raccoon started eating.
“Do you want any of this?”
Chama shook her head before giving her a sly smile. “I’ve already had something, but if you don’t want that second piece of honey cake, I wouldn’t say no to it.”
Halvrika burst out laughing and gave her the plate, and for a while the two ate and chatted. “Still working on that for His Grace?” Chama asked, pointing at the desk with her fork.
The raccoon nodded. “I get to a certain point, here and there, and I have to stop and think things over.” Her ears laid flat. “Some of the memories – they aren’t good ones,” she added, yawning before drinking the last of her wine.
Chama nodded sympathetically. “You look tired. Um – “
“Yes?”
“Do you want some company tonight?” At least she didn’t have a sly or insinuating look on her face.
She’s adherent to Imjasta, Halvrika thought, and I am feeling a bit lonely so far from home.
She smiled. “Shall we tuck each other in?”
© 2015 by Walter Reimer
This is a sequel to The Gray Tower, which is a sequel to The Black Chapel. It’s not really necessary to read the previous two stories, but they provide important plot points and great yiff, so you’re missing out if you don’t. Just saying.
Art by
whitearabmare_______________________
Part 13.
The door opened, and Ast looked up as the Queen asked, “Could you come in, Master Jerofer?”
The wolf nodded and followed her inside. The King was standing, his good paw holding onto the bed post to steady himself. Falra stood beside him and she said, “Master Jerofer, I’m – we’re - very aware of how much you don’t want anything to complicate Aroki’s recovery.” She smiled up at her mate, who leaned over and kissed her. “Still,” she asked, “is there any way you could help him that won’t put him at risk?”
The wolf clasped his paws together and closed his eyes for a moment. One of his greatest problems was convincing layfurs that members of the Order, particularly Healers, were not capable of miracles.
His eyes opened. “Your Majesties,” he said, bowing slightly, “I can increase the rate at which the King recovers, as I said. But I will do it in slow steps, at my pace.” He raised a paw as the royal buck started to protest. “I am adamant about this, Your Majesty. I have an obligation to you as my patient – I must not allow you to come to harm.”
Aroki nodded, glancing at his wife before licking his lips and saying, “Do as . . . you think best, Asst.”
Jerofer closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them they were glowing silver. “Sit, Majesty,” he said, his tone sounding distant as the King complied. He walked forward and placed his right palm against the left side of the elk buck’s head.
It was like the worst maze in the waking world – a brain always was – and the areas affected by the King’s stroke were visible as darkened tangles. He tiptoed around them, isolating and reinforcing small bits that showed less damage. Then he let a small flow of power seep into the nerves and vessels that were already bypassing the dead zone.
Falra gasped as Aroki’s right paw clenched and her mate groaned aloud. The wolf broke the contact and she whispered, “Is – will – “
The same paw lifted and took her paw. She looked down to see Aroki smiling at her. There was very little sign of the droop that had given the right side of his face a permanent grimace.
The buck blinked and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before he said, “I . . . I feel fine, Falra.”
The doe’s eyes went wide. After a moment she squealed in joy and hugged her mate as Master Ast said, “Majesties, please listen to me.” He waited until after she had stopped kissing the King and said, “What I have done is only a tiny step. I will wait and study the effects before I do anything more.” He bowed. “I must go now, and write some notes about this. What I have done may be useful in the future, or at least offer a fruitful line of research.”
Aroki nodded. “Thank you, Ast.”
***
Arkoni was having lunch in their quarters when Ast came in. The priest cocked an eyebrow as the wolf closed the door and leaned against it, sighing wearily. “I take it your bit didn’t go exactly as planned,” Arkoni said. He gestured at the table. “Come over and eat something, you look exhausted.”
“Thanks,” and the Master sat down heavily after removing the cloak that was part of what people expected a magic-user to wear. It was a silly affectation, and right now Ast felt like he was stifling in it. He grabbed a meat pasty and started eating as Arkoni poured him a cup of wine. “I examined the King.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He and the Queen had me try something to speed up his recovery.” He set the pasty aside, drank some wine and explained what he’d done to the priest.
The priestly wolf’s ears perked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Very. The stress of it could damage his heart. So I compromised.”
“Just a baby step?” Ast had drank off half the wine in his cup in one long swallow, and Arkoni refilled it. “Is that wise?”
“It could have killed him – “
“I didn’t mean that.” Ast paused in mid-chew, a chicken leg in his paw. “I meant was it wise to even do it just that little bit?” Arkoni asked.
“There is that risk, of course.” Ast took another bite, and washed it down with a swallow of wine. “But I have described the risks, and I told them in no uncertain terms that I won’t be rushed or forced.”
“Their Majesties could demand the Order – “
“The Order won’t overrule my medical opinion,” the wolf said flatly. He spread butter on a roll. “How are Seffa and her child?”
“Hmm, well, if we could get her out of Meki’s paws I’d be well-pleased, for a start.” Ast blinked and Arkoni sat back, moodily gazing into his wine cup. “She’s terrified of him, Ast – her heartbeat went straight up when he took her by the paw.”
Jerofer nodded. “It’s an open secret in the Royal Keep that he beat her before she got pregnant. I just hope that the fawn’s a buck, or he just might kill her in her childbed.”
“Couldn’t you tell?”
“Tell what?”
“Whether she’s carrying a buck or a doe?”
Ast laughed humorlessly. “As if he’d allow me anywhere near her.” He suddenly yawned, and glared at his cup. “Did you – “
“Yes, it’s just a mild soporific,” Arkoni said. “You haven’t been getting much sleep, and it was decided to urge you along a bit.”
“Who? And how?”
“Masters Dinest and Kulorn,” the priest replied, “and I’m told that they fused the drug to the inside of the cup, to dissolve when the wine was added.” Ast, already looking drowsy, glared at Arkoni. “Don’t take on so, Ast. It’s for your own good.”
“Might’ve known it was Marok and Ranli,” Ast said around a yawn. He got up from his chair, swayed, and staggered over to his cot.
Arkoni thought that Ast had fallen asleep halfway to the mattress.
***
”. . . His attack was similar to what a tapster does at an inn. Like driving a tap into a keg, Amb’s spell was designed to siphon power from me and send it to him. It was forbidden to be taught that, and it took a while to determine the truth; somehow Amb had discovered the journals of Jeresh the Black, a rogue member of the Order who lived generations ago.”
Halvrika stopped writing and laid her quill aside as she heard someone knocking on the door. The raccoon sow got up, feeling her knees protest at the long stretch of inactivity, and went to answer the door. “Yes – oh, hello Chama.”
The ermines had a tray in her paws. “I figured you might be hungry, Halvrika,” she said as she swept past the raccoon, “so I managed to get this past the cook before the fires were banked in the kitchen.”
“Before the fires were banked?”
Chama blinked. “It’s almost the third hour past sundown, and that’s chludach-doiteain.” At Halvrika’s blank look she explained, “By law we have to cover, bank or put out cooking fires at a certain time every night. It’s supposed to be so that peoples’ houses don’t catch fire.”
Finally the coin dropped. “Oh, a curfew,” the sow said. “We have something similar down south, just under a different name.” She sniffed, and promptly blushed as her stomach growled. Chama giggled, and laughed harder as Halvrika pouted at her. “So, what did you bring?”
“Some sliced beef,” Chama laughed, “with rolls, carrots stewed in honey and some wine. Oh, and some honey cake.” The ermine femme grinned, then laughed again as she heard another growling sound. She made shooing motions with her paws. “Go on, eat!”
“Would you sit and talk, while I eat?” Halvrika asked.
The maid shrugged and grabbed an extra chair. “Sure,” and she sat down as the raccoon started eating.
“Do you want any of this?”
Chama shook her head before giving her a sly smile. “I’ve already had something, but if you don’t want that second piece of honey cake, I wouldn’t say no to it.”
Halvrika burst out laughing and gave her the plate, and for a while the two ate and chatted. “Still working on that for His Grace?” Chama asked, pointing at the desk with her fork.
The raccoon nodded. “I get to a certain point, here and there, and I have to stop and think things over.” Her ears laid flat. “Some of the memories – they aren’t good ones,” she added, yawning before drinking the last of her wine.
Chama nodded sympathetically. “You look tired. Um – “
“Yes?”
“Do you want some company tonight?” At least she didn’t have a sly or insinuating look on her face.
She’s adherent to Imjasta, Halvrika thought, and I am feeling a bit lonely so far from home.
She smiled. “Shall we tuck each other in?”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Raccoon
Gender Female
Size 594 x 876px
File Size 91.6 kB
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