Found and Lost
Found and Lost
(excerpt from a longer tale, copyright 2007 Altivo Overo)
After a while, Fennec's sobs subsided to little hiccups. He sat up, still feeling utterly miserable, and looked hard at the bracelet. There could be no doubt about its identity, he knew, but he sought to prove himself wrong and failed. He slipped the bracelet onto his own wrist, and with some difficulty because he was unused to wearing jewelry, latched the clasp to lock it in place. He would keep it safe until he could return it to his friend, he told himself, as the cold silver slowly regained its accustomed warmth, but from a different heartbeat.
The fox stood up slowly, feeling much older than he had just an hour earlier, and lifted the lamp. He went and locked the front door, then continued to his own sleeping room where again he undressed and lay down, wrapping the blanket Argos had made for him around himself and trying to sleep. Though he was now in serious need of that sleep, it would not come. Instead, his mind insisted first on rehashing the events of the day, and then on recalling how he had given Argos that bracelet, long years before.
They were young and just out of school when they had made that trip to Chatton, to look at the ships and the other wonders of the port town, and to enjoy the midsummer festival with its huge fair. They had indeed looked at the ships, staring at the tall masts and furled sails, and watching the sailor furs working busily on deck or on the dock, loading and unloading cargo, or making repairs to the ships themselves.
Fennec, usually the more practical and realistic of the pair, found himself siezed with the urge to sign aboard one of those wonderful ships and see the exotic and distant ports of call to which it would arrive. On the other paw, Argos, the dreamer of the two, felt uncomfortable at the idea of going out to sea, with only the stars and the sun to guide the ship safely on its travels. It was a strange and new kind of turnabout for both of them.
"C'mon, Whitey," Fennec urged his friend, "We can sign up together on the same vessel. I'll take care of you and make sure you get home safely in the end. Think of the adventure, the strange sights and smells, a whole world beneath your footpaws."
Argos flattened his ears and let his tail droop. "An entire ocean beneath my footpaws you mean? I don't think so, Red," he answered. "I'm just not made for travel. I have roots and can no more be cut away from them than can a tree and still remain alive. You go, but promise to come back and tell me all about it. I'll stay here and weave my dreams from what you will tell."
Fennec in turn felt his ears go down, an emotional response much less frequent for him than for his aesthete friend. "It wouldn't be the same without you along," he admitted, "I guess I'd better think about it some more."
They turned their muzzles away from the docks and toward the famous markets, almost a mile on a side and filled with everything imaginable as well as some that beggared the imagination. They had saved coins for a year in anticipation of this trip, so each could afford to buy something memorable. It took time to choose, and much examination of the wares offered in the colorful tents and booths. Fennec eventually found that his heart's desire had settled upon a fine wool vest, dyed to perfection in deep green and trimmed with silk bindings. The merchant assured him that it would fit him like a glove and that the color suited him well, as it set off the gold of his eyes and his own red coat.
The price was dear, however. After much talk, he succeeded in getting the seller down to one silver and two coppers. The fox had budgeted himself the silver, and the coppers meant giving up a meal, but he impulsively handed over the coins while Argos looked on disapprovingly. When he put on the vest, though, even his friend had to smile. The merchant had spoken truthfully, and it gave Fennec the air and appearance of a wealthy gentlefur.
They continued their way among the more richly appointed dealers until they came to one with a banner reading "Farris and Wilton." The sign did not need to proclaim the nature of the goods being offered, as it was obvious that these merchants provided the best in gold, silver, and precious stones to a wealthy clientele. Knowing that neither of them could afford such, they nonetheless entered the pavilion and walked along the carefully watched display tables with their paws clasped politely behind them.
The artistry of the jewelry on display was unquestionable. There were rings and necklaces, bracelets and even drinking cups. No brass or copper was in evidence, only the finely-wrought precious metals. When they had reached the end of the semicircular display, Argos turned and padded back to a point near the center where he leaned longingly over to look once more at a silver bracelet. The metal was chased with a delicate tracery of knotwork, and it looked as if it might weigh more than three silver coins of itself. In the center there was a flat, polished disk of the most wonderful shade of blue. It looked like a summer sky and a winter sea at once, with tiny streaks of white that might be cloud or foam.
The seller in charge of that particular table was an elderly raccoon, who never took her eyes from Argos as she spoke not to him but to Fennec. "Your handsome companion has an excellent eye for quality, young gentlefur," she told him. "You could find no better gift for him, I promise. That band comes from the desert coast, five hundred miles south of here, and the stone is a fine turquoise."
Fennec chuckled as Argos straightened up, blushing. It was Argos who answered, "Ah, mistress, I'm sure it is worth both of us together, but I thank you merely for the pleasure of viewing such a treasure."
The raccoon smiled, her dark eyes sparkling as she stepped closer, lifting her lushly striped tail just enough to avoid dragging it through the dust beneath her footpaws. "You will be surprised," she declared, as she plucked the bracelet from its place in her display. She held it next to Argos' cheek first, and turned to Fennec. "See how it matches his handsome blue eyes." Then she reached out to take the white wolf's left paw in her own, and in a flash, had daringly slipped the bauble onto his wrist though she did not fasten the clasp. "And it sits so well against his spotless furcoat," she added, with a flourish of the other paw. The bracelet was magically back in her own paw and settled back on the display table before they knew it.
Ears perked hopefully and tail actually wagging slightly, Argos dared to ask, "How much?" The desire within him made his voice shake a bit.
"For such fine gentlefurs as yourselves, only two silver and six coppers," the raccoon said, with a graceful little bow to Fennec.
Argos' ears collapsed immediately and the light went out of his blue eyes, but Fennec didn't even wince. He knew that his friend, like himself, had only budgeted a single silver coin to spend, but he couldn't resist the clever sales pitch so easily. And he thought he saw a way, so he asked, "But that would appear to weigh at least as much as three silver coins alone. How can it sell for so little?"
The raccoon winked at him. "The desert artisans are clever. They know how to blend just enough copper with the silver to make it strong and heavy without dulling its luster," she admitted. "And they sell their work cheaply because they see it as a duty to their gods to spread the blue skystone across the world. They say the turquoise is the eye of a god, that will always watch over its wearer. True or not, it is certainly a pretty legend."
Fennec nodded. "Indeed, a pretty tale," he said, rubbing his muzzle thoughtfully with a paw. "Two silvers," he offered abruptly, watching Argos open his mouth to protest.
The raccoon nodded slightly. "For you, young gentlefur," she countered, "Two and two. I approve of love-tokens."
At this, Argos blushed deeply, the pink showing right through the short fur of his muzzle, and Fennec smiled. He reached for his purse, and drew out a silver and two coppers. The mistress gave him a puzzled look, but he winked at her and held a paw out to his companion. "Your silver, Argos?" he prompted. Numbly, Argos reached into his own purse and handed his silver coin to Fennec who passed it to the raccoon. She nodded, and with a bright smile, gave the bracelet to Fennec.
"Yours to present," she told him, with another wink, and watched expectantly.
Fennec breathed upon the silver, and polished it with a corner of his new vest. Then, in a surprise gesture, he held it against his heart, pressing it firmly into his own fur. The cool metal had warmed when he took Argos' left paw in his own and slipped the bracelet in place there. He worked the trick clasp to close it securely in place, saying "The warmth of my heart, dear friend. Keep it warm with your own heart's pulse that our friendship may last for all time." With that he pulled the white wolf into a brief embrace, nuzzling his ear.
Fennec's tail was wagging broadly as he released Argos from his embrace and watched him blink and blush again. The raccoon clapped her paws together and said "Bravo! Well spoken, and even better intended, young sir. That was worth the discount just to see and hear."
The fox made a little sketch of a theatrical bow in her direction, then took Argos by the paw and steered him, dazed, from the booth. When they had reached the edge of the marketplace, the wolf finally recovered himself well enough to speak. "That was a grand gesture," he said, staring at the bracelet that now seemed to belong on his wrist, "But how will we pay for lodgings and supper?"
Fennec just grinned at him. "We won't," he answered. "We're going to sleep under the stars and let your desert god look after us." They paused at a baker's shop to spend their last coppers for bread, and turned their footpaws onto the road back to Westvale.
Whether by the design of the desert god or not, the two friends spent a warm and comfortable night curled together on a dry bed of fern fronds. Argos slept peacefully in Fennec's arms as the fox felt the wolf's living breath against his own chest, fully satisfied with the way the day had turned out.