Adept Paws 8: Of King and Corgi
#10 of Adept Paws
Adept Paws 8 - The Origin of Corgis
by Tempe O'Kun
The truth comes out about the adepts' being at Alaster's Citadel.
Rea wiggled her fingers deeper into the grip of Jax's paw. Tension prickled fur from her neck to the small of her back. The cat stood close, his scent a tenuous tether back to familiarity amid the opulent furniture and fraying tempers and naked steel.
Sword in one paw, Toskun gripped the table so hard it creaked. Flanked by Tara and Rin, staff and blade at the ready, he seemed not a force to trifle with. Below the black and white of his brow, his gaze crackled at the canine lord. "Explain."
Lord Alaster's eyes flicked to the robed, plump dog on the floor.
She remained seated and silent, legs crossed and muzzle amused. In a voice soft as a faerret's fur, she offered but two words: "Go on."
Alaster steadied himself with a deep breath, his ears lifting in a pointed way as he turned back to the laconic badger. "I know this all looks terrible, but if we all just--"
The slam of an axe biting wood resounded through the room. In unison, the occupants glanced in time to see it shudder again in it's heavy frame. Ancient prisms clicked in the chandelier above, accompanied by a howl of rage.
"Pardon me." Alaster gave a swift bow and strode to the door.
Toskun, eternal optimist, snarled and raised his sword.
If the lord heard this at all, he showed no outward sign. Instead, he placed a paw on the door, as if to steady it, took a breath, and spoke between the splintering of varnished wood. "Dear nephew--" Wham. "--you may stop destroying my door--" Hack. "--at any time."
A somewhat louder howl, followed by a more determined chop.
Alaster sighed, his eyes closing to seal in the frustration. "Jaith."
Another chop. A dark sliver of wood snapped out from the polished oaken door.
The lord tossed a smile of measured assurance back to the villagers before he turned back to the splintering door, hackles rising just a little. "Jaith! I'm fine."
"If that's really you--" Chop. "--then open this door!" Hack.
Rea cocked an ear to Jax. He blinked back, his paw squeezing tighter on hers.
Alaster gestured for the villagers to back up, prompting a fresh growl from the badger Constable. The slender, regal canine tipped his ears back, inviting trust. Then, as the door shuddered once more, he paused for just a moment and yanked the heavy bar from the doors.
The length of carved wood clattered to the marble floor. The doors creaked open. An instant later, an axe blade swept between them. The golden-armored form of a brindled canine tumbled after it. With a yowl and twirl, the armored dog swung himself back to his feet, axe at the ready in his paws. His eyes took in the situation. They settled on the villagers, narrowing. His armor flashed like golden fire. His teeth bared to the gums.
Rea's whittling knife snapped into her paw. Instinct swept her in front of the scrawny tabby boy she'd come so far to find, even as her mind petitioned for panic. I'm going stop him_? I think I finally have lost it._
A surge of guards clamored in after the armored canine. Standing shoulders above the rest, a large equine glared at Rin, the side of his face swollen, his helmet missing.
Weary villagers tensed in an instant. Faerrets brandished their silverware from between the teacups. The adepts, still in shock, looked between their elders, more than one mouthing a calming chant.
Alaster tried to protest, but was absorbed into the pack of guards.
The floppy-eared druid stood before her, the smokey tendrils of a spell woven in her paws. The tension seeped into Rea's muscles, wringing them into knots.
A pair of large ears appeared between the two groups.
The guards all froze, looking down at the owner of the ears in surprise. Rea leaned around Tara's flank to see what the fuss was. A small, plump canine strode between the two groups, paws upraised, brushing weapons aside like branches.
Toskun opened his jaws to quip, but the little brown canine silenced him with a stare.
Dainty paws planted on round hips, the canine stood no higher than Rin or Toskun's shoulder, ears included, but her expression brooked no nonsense. "Peace."
The word carried such weight that Rea wondered if it wasn't somehow enchanted. Before she even realized, she had lowered her whittling knife.
Lord Alaster managed to push his way forward through the cluster of guards with a reserved wag. Jax's father slipped from the dark of a curtain, whisper-quiet, unnocking the arrow from his bow.
The short canine looked around at the circle of sharpened steel around her, fearless, as if she were speaking to children holding sticks instead of warriors armed for maiming. Her voice never once wavered. "I am Eilwen of the Corgi and will tolerate no fighting here. I will have peace now. And tea."
* * * * *
"Corgi?" Flots twitched his tiny ears. The bedroom around him lay plain, but neat, quite unlike any in a floating barge-town. He munched on one of the biscuits from the tray she'd fetched. "I've never heard of that breed."
"Not surprising." The pretty canine, whose name he'd learned was Gwenllian, patted the bed next to her, hopping up to sit down. She took delicate bites from one of the biscuits. "My people live quieter lives now."
He sat down beside her, drawn close by her soft lilting voice. His whiskers tingled at the hint of a narrative. "But they didn't always?"
She nodded. "Correct. Once, my people lived in isolation, herding and hunting on our islands. Even then, they knew much of magic." Her small paws traced through arcane gestures above the cookies, though no spell formed. "All was not perfect. Our two clans skirmished, squabbling like litter-mates who know nothing of the outside world. Eventually, however, other tribes found us. Some came to trade, but others came to take us as slaves."
"Slaves!"
"Yes. In a series of raids, they captured many of us, even our queen. It seems the slavers thought that our small stature would make us excellent servants. They thought we were harmless. They were wrong." The white and tan canine interlaced her fingers and looked down with sorrow. "We retaliated."
"Well, you could hardly be blamed for wanting your kin back."
"No, it didn't stop there. We didn't just seek their return-- we sought vengeance. In return for their capture of our people, we enslaved them all and took all their riches for ourselves. But even this did not satisfy us. Having been taken advantage of once, we sought to ensure our safety through a series of conquests. Our entire society changed. We became warriors, using our magic to kill and using our enslaved neighbors as fodder for battle. Our humble clans forged a mighty empire, eventually ruling over much of the known world."
"You ruled the Lost Continent? You?" Flots looked the canine up and down. "You're tiny!"
The curvy Corgi threw her muzzle back in a bark of warm laughter. "Not me personally!"
"But how is that even possible? Even with magic, what stopped people from just stuffing you in sacks?"
"Martial arts, mostly. And clever planning." Gwen folded her paws together. "Do not mistake me: we were savages. We even chopped off our own tails so our enemies could not grab them in battle."
"That's awful!" The young otter hugged his own tail in horror. He sat still as stone, entranced by her tale, even at the detail of detailing.
Gwen nodded. "After hundreds of years, we began to be born without tails at all. Most of our leaders took as a sign we were favored by the gods, true warriors. One of them, however, was not so sure. Our greatest philosopher, Aerona, pondered this for many days."
Flots settled in and sprawled across the bed, propping his muzzle on webbed hands.
Gwen watched him, amusement creeping along her lips, before returning to her tale. Her dainty paw selected another biscuit from the tray. "After a time, she emerged to explain the madness of our ways. She asked how we could justify doing to others exactly what had started us down the path of bloodshed, how taking advantage would ever help us better ourselves. She asked if we were any happier, tailless and warlike, than we had been before." The canine girl shifted her posterior, sitting cross-legged, facing him. "None who heard her words could deny her logic. Almost overnight, we disassembled our empire. We returned all we had stolen and more. We retreated our small islands and began our quest for enlightenment, our quest to regain our tails."
The Tail Seeker lay silent, taking in every detail of the story and more than a few about the shapely curves of her ears.
The Corgi girl cleared her throat, as if unused to such close study. "That was several hundred years ago. In that time, we have forsaken all forms of martial and magical arts not purely defensive, focusing instead on knitting body and spirit. Never again shall we take up arms."
"Wow." His thick tail wiggled against the bedspread, throwing the clean lines into rumpled chaos. "Now that's a story..."
She watched him unmake the bed with a mixture of intrigue and mild dismay. "The story is not over. Our past is a lesson. It is for this reason that Alaster summoned us here. If Guild magic cannot be restored, we must serve as an example to the villagers of Lagan, so they do not repeat our mistakes."
* * * * *
Chib-bib settled into Rea's lap, nursing his second thimble of tea. She petted his head with one finger, noting that he had turned a powder blue. Must be from him calming down.
Around the table sat the adepts, her fellow villagers, Lord Alaster, Eilwen of the Corgi, the gold-armored Shepherd, and at least a dozen guards in full armor.
A greyhound servant trotted in with another tray of cookies, stepping gingerly over the pile of weapons the small dog had shamed off of everyone.
A tail brushed down hers. She glanced back to find it belonged to Jax, who smiled in his whiskered way. She found herself smiling back.
Across the table, the Corgi breathed deeply and with undisguised appreciation over the steam of her beverage. "Ahhhh..." She sat so low in the chair her elbows couldn't rest on the table. "Now Alaster, I believe you were explaining why your guests' children are here."
"Thank you, Eilwen; I was." The brindled canine set down the biscuit he'd been nibbling, his paws drifting to a napkin. His gaze fell on the villagers. "As I am sure you know, all magic ceased less than two weeks ago."
"All your magic." Rin flashed a toothy smirk.
Alaster inclined his head in concurrence. "Indeed. Needless to say, this caused great concern. I immediately announced a reward for any mage who stepped forward with information or, better yet, magic in paw."
"And you have no mages of your own?" Tara's floppy ears tilted forward in curiosity.
The brindled lord's eyes drifted to some distant sadness. "Until very recently, I had one." His thumb spun the smaller of his two rings. Then he straightened, once again very much the ruler of a proud nation of dogs, causing Rea to second guess the lapse she had seen. "I did not anticipate, however, just how far my offer would reach. Within days, a flight of blood bats arrived, with your adepts in tow." His paw swept toward them in a demonstrative, disarming way, though his voice rang with a little regret. "They demanded a reward."
Indignation rose in Rea's throat. "And you just gave it to them?" The bile in her voice cracked like lightning before she remembered to whom she was speaking. "To obvious kidnappers?"
The conversation froze. All looked at the young vixen.
Only then did she realize that the other six faerrets had settled in around her, their slender bodies upright like a forest of fuzzy blue saplings. Flattening her ears to hide the blush there, she did the only thing she could think of: she drank her tea.
"You have a point, dear vulpine. I am afraid it was more complicated than that. If I had not taken the adepts from them, they would have brought them to the City of Fangs."
A shudder passed around the table. All knew the fate of those taken into the land of vampires.
"This, of course, does not explain why I did not return your children to you in the weeks since, or at least send word to you. In fact, I tried: I sent two of my fastest messengers. They barely escaped your forest with their lives, having been nearly mauled twice by formidable creatures." Alaster cupped the air in a conciliatory gesture. "Your village is not only outside my borders, it lies in the Forest of Faerrets, at the foot of the Dragon Tower. I could not simply march my soldiers in to deliver your children back, even if I had the troops to spare. What's more, I had no assurances that they wouldn't be taken from you again."
Toskun set down his cup with a resolute clatter. "I assure it."
"Yes-yes-yes!" A chitter of agreement arose from the bandit-masked female faerret, whose dandelion-bannered spear lay surrendered with the rest of the weaponry. "We do as well and as well we shall do!"
"I believe that now, after you charged past my army and into my Citadel." Alaster glanced to his solders, none of whom looked very pleased. The horse guard, a poultice bound to his bruised head, glowered. His thick, hooved fingers clutched the delicate teacup. The gold-clad Shepherd tried to capture his uncle's gaze, but Alaster gave him only an instant before turning back to the villagers. "But until an hour ago, I knew only that they were taken once."
Rea glance to her fellow villagers, gauging their reactions. Toskun set his jaw, brow furrowed-- a surly lump of black and white. Rin reclined in seeming feline ease, but traced claws along her empty scabbards. Tara sat with the adepts, who worked to imitate her easy tranquility.
Beside her, Jax tense, took a breath, then addressed the table. "There's more." His orange ears lay flat, not perked up in their usual flame-lick manner. Green feline eyes found Alaster, serious though not accusing. "Tell them the rest."
"Indeed." The brindled lord dipped his nose in assent. "As I explained to the children, there is a second reason I did not send them home. The type of magic they use, that your village uses, may be the only sort left in the world."
"This may sound selfish, Majesty--" Rin interlaced her spotted fingers on the tabletop, her voice a croon. "--but the outside world has given Lagan little but trouble. Why should they care about the loss of your Guild magic?"
"Because the bats' blood rituals may still work." Jaith leaned forward, his golden bracers gleaming over dark, slender forearms. "They will kill us, and then you."
Dooking in displeasure, a crimson Chib-bib weaseled across the table. "Ruffle fluff! Many are our spears and several are our forks! We faerrets will defend our forest with every inch of our beings!" The faerret troupe chattered and cheered in agreement and made rude gestures at Jaith.
The brindled canine snatched at the fey, but Chib-bib had chosen his distance with a prudence that surprised Rea. The rose-red mustelid fluttered back to his fellows, dancing on his back legs as war-paint markings blossomed over his fur.
Alaster steadied his nephew with a paw and cupped his ears at the band of sprites. "Your courage is admirable, stoat-sanguine, but your people are also known for their compassion. Without magic to heal and protect them, the people of the world will suffer greatly."
Chib-bib froze mid-step. His color cooled to a more subdued violet. Still standing on one hind foot, he bowed to the canine noble. His chin touched the table before he fluttered upright again. "You remember us, king-giant, even as we forget ourselves."
Alaster returned the bow with a gracious nod. "I may see little of your Grand Stoat, but I make it a point to know about my neighbors."
Rea noticed the robed Corgi smile over her tea.
Gold-armored Jaith regarded them darkly. "Niceties aside, we are still no closer to finding the magic stolen from us." He rose and throttled the carved back of his chair.
The young vixen started to ask about all this magic business, but decided, for the first time she could remember, to hold her tongue. Instead, she glanced to Jax, who responded with a pat on her paw and an understanding look.
Alaster observed the younger dog, then turned back to Toskun and the others. "Please, excuse Jaith. He is aide to the captain of the guard. Your overwhelming the defenses on his watch has hurt his pride. He will recover." The sleek canine sipped the last of his tea. "I'm sure he will learn from this experience and be a better lord for it someday."
Jaith's ears dropped at this, looking admonished.
Toskun scoffed. "He's your chosen heir?"
"He is."
"I shudder to think what the rejects were like."
The young dog's hackles rose, but he bit his lip.
Alaster watched his nephew's reactions from the corner of his eye, smiling. "Jaith's spirit is true. Like many young people, it just burns a little too hot."
This notion seemed to mollify the constable somewhat, enough that he shot Rea an amused look. "True words." The badger's arms crossed over his wide chest. "But you cannot stop us from taking the children back."
"I have no desire to." The slender canine toyed with a heavy gold signet ring. "In fact, I will be personally seeing that they return safely."
"Uncle-- err... Majesty! You've told me yourself that the king's place is with his people. You cannot go traipsing off with some band of backwoods folk." He shot a glare to Toskun as pointed as his Shepherd ears.
The elder canine nodded. "You are correct, Nephew. A king owes it to his people to rule responsibly."
"Then you seem to be contradicting yourself."
"On the contrary, dear nephew..." In one smooth motion, he slid off his signet ring and placed it on the table. The heavy gold rang against the polished oak in front of Rea. Alaster met the eyes of all around him, his poise intact, his tone measured. He lifted a ringless paw and swept it to his younger relation. "I abdicate. Jaith is now Lord of the Citadel."
Please comment freely.
-Tempo /\/\