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


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Part 18.


“By the Silver Mountain,” Trasta growled as she stepped – stormed, actually – into her rooms. Chassi was there, reading, while Karalla and Padzi were talking about something. They all turned to her as she entered, and flinched as she slammed the door. Padzi wisely stepped back as Karalla approached her mistress. The elk doe waved away the weasel and sat down heavily, still muttering under her breath.

Chassi closed the book he was reading and said quietly, “While whispering is useful in tactical situations, such as a night attack, a more conversational tone would be better in a sitting room.” He gave her a grin as she favored him with a sour sidelong glance. “What is troubling you, Trasta?”

“Discussing sexual relations,” Trasta sighed, “with my mother.”

The elk buck’s ears perked. “That must’ve been awkward. Did you at least give me a good report?”

Trasta blinked as both Karalla and Padzi snickered behind their paws, and she glared at both of them before telling the Earl, “Not everything I say to my mother is about you, you know – “

“You wound me, Your Highness.”

She snorted. “Keep it up, and I will.” She got up and walked past the two servants, who were still smiling behind their paws, and poured herself a small cup of ale. Downing it in a gulp she coughed and said, “Mother . . . asked me about Halvrika.”

“Ah. And your relationship with her.”

The doe nodded.

Chassi waited, ears canted toward her attentively.

Trasta glanced at the two servants before saying, “Mother has told that I can expect a summons – “

“From the Court of Nobles?”

She glared. “How did you know?”

He met her glare calmly. “I guessed.”

With an indelicate snort, she refilled her cup and took a slower pull at the drink. “So, what do you guess Meki’s charging me with?”

The elk buck thought for a moment as he took a sip from his own mug. “Suppose you tell me,” he finally said, and after she explained he frowned. “He is certainly persistent.”

“It helped him walk,” the Princess grumbled. “Mother told me to tell the truth, and afterwards you and I are going to Repor to meet your mother. Besides, you’re not doing right by your vassals by staying up here all of the time.”

“That’s true,” Chassi conceded, “but Mother’s very good at running things. Father used to let her preside over the Court and the Council while he went out hunting or campaigning.” He gave a somewhat melancholy smile. “Of course, when he fell ill for the last time, Mother insisted that I assume the High Seat and hold court.”

“What was that like?”

He looked a bit amused by the questioning. “A bit jarring, I’ll tell you. Here are all these gray-muzzled nobles and counselors calling me ‘My Lord’ – and me young enough to be one of their grandsons.” He chuckled at the memory, and his ears flicked as his servant cleared his throat. “Yes, Padzi?”

“You were fairly giddy, my Lord, as I recall,” the donkey said. He gave his master and friend a smile. “Until your first judgement.”

Chassi immediately sat back and frowned. “Yes, that.”

Trasta was interested, forgetting – for the moment – about her brother and his interminable efforts to discredit her. “Tell me,” she said, her expression encouraging.

The buck gave a deep sigh. “The Earl of Repor,” he said slowly, as if reciting, “must sit in judgement over such cases in law that may result in the execution of the accused.” Another sigh. “I’ve fought, under my Father’s command, so I’ve seen death, of course. But sitting on the High Seat, wearing my father’s crown – that was different.”

“Was he guilty?”

“Hm?” he looked over at her, blinking. “Oh. Oh, yes. He’d killed his father, you see, in order to claim his inheritance earlier than the Gods would have ordained. He had been very subtle about it, so it had taken some effort to take him for his crime. Under questioning, he broke and confessed.”

“So you were right to judge him.”

“Of course.” He took a drink and set the cup aside, looking at his paws. “And it was my duty, as well. But to see him dragged away to be beheaded, screaming for mercy, while I sat there . . . “ He gave another sigh, and shrugged. “It was a sobering moment.” He glanced up as Padzi rested a paw on his shoulder, and he nodded.

Trasta gave him a sympathetic look. “I’ve only done that once, on the battlefield. So I can appreciate how you felt. The fellow had been a good soldier, but he went crazy and killed his thegn. He had to die.”

There was a brief silence before Trasta stood up and refilled her drink. Chassi looked up at her as she drank, then filled it again. “So, Repor?” she asked.

He nodded. “After you go before the Court and block your brother.”


***


“Your Grace?”

“Hm?”

“Adept Hringurhali,” Varri said, and the caprine chamberlain opened the door wider to let the raccooness into the Duke’s private office. The goat closed the door after she was in the room. Halvrika twitched an ear.

It sounded as if Varri had chuckled to himself.

Duke Evoli’s office was about what she expected, having seen her father working before she’d joined the Order. The difference was one of scale; instead of a few scrolls or ledgers detailing rents or other business, the Duke’s desk was awash in paper. It made sense, of course, that a duke’s realm would entail a greater amount of work than a thegn’s demesne.

The dark silver-furred fox was dressed in a sleeveless tunic of cream-colored linen. A patch sewn onto one shoulder told her that Evoli wasn’t expecting a formal audience.

The tod sat back in his chair. “Adept.”

She bowed. “Your Grace.” She held out a pawful of parchment sheets. “My report to you about Amb Tokarv.”

He smiled broadly and held out a paw, and she stepped up to the desk to give it to him. “My thanks, Adept.” He glanced at a few pages and laid it aside. “I’m rather busy, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t read it now.”

The raccoon sow nodded. “You have a large realm to rule, Your Grace. I’m honored that you find the time to talk to me.”

He chuckled. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short, young woman. I’ll read this, in due time, and we’ll discuss it then. If I recall, you were invited to a Temple service?”

“Yes, sir. The Twins,” and she hoped he couldn’t see her blush.

“Ah.” He nodded, half to himself. “Have I given you the freedom of the Keep?”

Halvrika blinked. “No, sir.”

“Oh.” He knocked a fist against his head. “Mind like a sieve sometimes.” He cleared his throat and called out, “Varri!” The goat entered and Evoli leaned back in his chair. “Know that by my grace and favor, effective upon this date, Adept Hringurhali is to have the freedom of the Keep of Karbur, with full access to the archives and library. Do me a service and get that written up as soon as you can, won’t you?”

“Of course, Your Grace,” and the goat left the room.

“I-I'm honored – “

The tod-fox waved this off. “The Order, I presume, prizes knowledge, so you can have free rein of the archives. They go back quite far, and of course you can go where you will – apart from my and my wife’s apartments, naturally. Unless invited,” he added with a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Halvrika said. “I’m eager to learn. This Keep, for example, is a marvel.”

“Thank you. The Tenth Duke had it built.”

“The Tenth Duke? Then, you’re – “

“The Fifteenth,” Evoli said as he grinned. She bowed as he gestured, and left the office.

As she left the anteroom she paused as the chamberlain waved at her. Varri walked over and gave her a piece of parchment bearing an embossed seal. “As His Grace ordered, here’s your pass, Adept,” the goat said.


***


Trasta was standing in the Court’s anteroom when she paused in the act of removing the plain white robe that was required for litigants. The elk doe’s ears flicked and she smiled as she heard her brother still arguing with Duchess Rolna.

Once again, Meki’s temper had gotten the better of him. When she blandly described the first time she and Halvrika had made love, her brother had started accusing her of being seduced, then of lying to the Court, and finally screaming that Duchess Rolna and the other nobles had been suborned by the Order. The accusations had been delivered at the top of his lungs, with quite a few words he’d obviously learned from the Keep’s soldiery.

None of which helped his case in any way.

She was lacing up the front of her dress when there was a soft knock on the door. “Come.”

Chassi opened the door slightly. “Is it all right to come in?”

“There’s nothing you haven’t seen yet,” the doe said tartly, but she smiled when the buck walked in. “Meki lost, as you can probably tell,” she said as the Earl cocked his head at the muffled spate of angry shouting.

“So I hear.”


***


Halvrika caught herself – not for the first time – gawking like a country girl on her first trip to a city. She’d been raised in Shuga, the largest city and capital of the Kingdom, for the Writ’s sake. But Lem’s Keep was an architectural gem all on its own.

The western end of the building was supported by buttresses, the support pillars of which were carved in the likeness of a beautiful nude vixen. Each caryatid stood tall and proud on a plinth nearly ten feet tall. “Who was the model?” the raccoon asked Chama.

The ermine giggled. “That’s the Tenth Duke, Duchess Kemina. She had this place built.”

“Did you learn that in school?”

“Sure!” Chama said happily. “But I also learned about her at Temple. She was adherent to Imjasta, and there’s stories that worship-days at the Twins’ Temple were a lot of fun.”

“So she was popular?” Halvrika asked with a sly grin.

Chama laughed. “Really popular. When she died, the Anchak guards all wanted to commit suicide to be with her, but her successor, Duke Amari, denied the request. He let the two commanders go with her, though,” the ermine added, “and told the rest to go home with one final order. Then he raised another levy of Anchak guards.”

“Which was? The final order, I mean.”

“That they name their daughters after Kemina.”

The sun was slipping down in the sky as the two young women chatted. After lunch, Halvrika had proposed taking a look at the Keep, and Chama had enthusiastically agreed.

The ermine maid said, “There’s a better likeness of Kemina, and you won’t get a sore neck looking at it. Care to see it?”

“Of course. Isn’t there one at the Temple?”

Chama grinned. “Of course there is. But this is special.” She grasped the raccoon’s paw and led her around to the southwest corner of the structure. When they rounded the corner Halvrika caught herself gawking again as Chama bowed respectfully. As soon as she recovered herself, Halvrika copied the motion before staring at it again.

The western wall of the Keep curved, and carved in bas-relief was a procession of fourteen foxes, thirteen tods and one vixen. They all faced the viewer’s right as they marched in a frozen lock-step. They all wore a uniform and some sort of regalia, with the exception of the lone vixen, who was surely Duchess Kemina.

The resemblance to the caryatids was obvious, although the effigy’s right breast and right buttock were worn much smoother than the rest of the carved stone. The sow glanced at Chama, who walked up and rested a paw on the Duchess’ arse. “People will rub her for luck.”

“I see,” and Halvrika stepped up and lightly rubbed her paw over the breast. She grinned at Chama, but saw something over the ermine’s shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” Chama turned as Halvrika walked past her and down the line of reliefs.