Chương 289: Chapter 540: Wolf Stew and a Cozy Fire

The Baron and Baroness had been expecting a final assault on their defended position when Goodboy howled, then turned and wagged his tail in their direction before leading his pack away at a trot. He'd proved to be a crafty opponent, attacking from different directions and quick to exploit any chink in their defenses. Despite that, their losses were minimal, with only a few people dragged off or mauled to death, mostly players who eagerly formed the front lines to earn the rewards Billy was offering.

An hour had passed with no wolf attacks when several riders and their entourage approached. The finery of the Fae lords was bedraggled, and their armor scarred from many claws, yet they still had the look of being on a holiday. The Fox Prince rode forward at blinding speed and hailed the encampment.

"Hail, defenders of this land. We seem to have run out of both wolves and fine wine. Have you any of either to spare?" Layla had eyes for the small cart pulled by a squire, piled over ten feet high with wolf and Snarfang pelts. The princes had been picky about those, only keeping the pelts unmarred by wounds where they were able to spear the animals through the eyes or mouth. The Snarlfang pelts were an exception to the rule. It took many blows to put them down.

They would hand them over to clever brownies who would sew the wounds skillfully and turn them into rugs for their hunting lodges in the Fae Wilds. She called out to them, "We seem to be out of wolves at the moment, ourselves, but I do have a simple wine cellar that you are free to raid, as soon as the Baron and I are back in Gadobhra. We're thirsty ourselves, and it's better to drink with a group after a long, successful hunt, and share stories." The Fox Prince smiled, "It truly is.

I, for one, will accept your hospitality and will urge my companions to do so as well. We are off to Sedgewick to deliver our trophies and will see you soon." He turned and rode to his companions, who galloped off, the squires and hounds somehow keeping pace. Billy grinned, "Working the Fae angle? Good. Friends of Bob's who show up wearing crowns and killing are enemies are people we need to cultivate."

"They are. And I want to find out the names of their tailors. Even torn to shreds, those clothes are gorgeous! Can you imagine walking into the Emperor's Ball dressed like that?"

"He holds a ball?"

"Of course, the imperial calendar is full of events. We've been busy, and strangely, never invited. It might be time to change that. And if so, I'm not showing up in a set of armor or a gunnysack." The Fox Prince had come riding back to his hunting party, his hands empty of wine, and his face empty of any triumphant smile.

"Truly, the tides of war are harsh. The loss of our picnic basket is a disaster that has hit us time and again. But I have wrangled an invite to a mortal wine cellar that I think is worth investigating." The other princes smiled at that. Bob was happy as well, knowing which wine cellar they would be visiting, "I think you will be pleased. I've sat with the Baron a few times in my mortal disguise and enjoyed his selection of wine. All mortal vintages are very fleeting, of course.

But there is a special feeling knowing that you are drinking from a vintage that will be gone in only a couple of short decades. Like the mortal world, his cellar is always changing. And the quality? Superb in its variety. Everything served at court tastes the same, with only subtle differences to argue over. I've sampled wines from the Baron's racks that would strike some of the sommeliers at court dead from shock. Overly sweet, or made from grapes we wouldn't feed to goats.

The effect is amazing, for only after tasting a truly bad bottle of wine can you appreciate a better one. One of the best things the mortal realms have to offer." The Bear Prince nodded his head.

"I think I understand the philosophy of that. It has been over two hours since the loss of our picnic basket, and I'm famished. But the hunger is making me long for the mortal food at the tavern in Sedgewick. The pain I have endured will add a spice to the food I don't normally enjoy. Let us be off then."

They rode quickly across lands now devoid of wolves, past empty farms, or those with stout stone walls that had survived the attack, the families still huddling inside with no desire to leave their safe retreats just yet. As they came over a small rise and saw the town from a half mile away, the party slowed as the Princes saw the walls. The Stag Prince went pale as she recognized the Silverthorn vines that grew over every surface, and saw a school of rippy fish leap into the air before returning to the moat.

"By all the gods who once favored us, the dread Duchess has escaped her prison. We must ride for the court of the High King to apprise him of this!" The Bear Prince, also unnerved, considered instead how to convince his companions to hunt her in the mortal realms.

"She must be weak and regaining her strength. If we strike hard and fast, we may avert a greater tragedy. And even if we perish, she shall be weakened. Lord Alwyn, I beg you to take the message to the king while we engage her." The Fox Prince saw Alwyn sigh and ponder the situation. There were hidden depths to the Summer Lord that many of the High Fae were only beginning to get a hint of. That he was not fearful of the situation bore investigation.

"Is there something we should know, cousin?" Alwyn turned his horse to face them and summoned a globe to mask their speech.

"There is. But you have a choice to make. I cannot compel your obedience, only ask you to consider my words. I am under oath to High King Oberon, and some things I cannot say unless you take my burden upon yourselves as well." He said no more, only waited for their response. The others turned to the Fox, as they usually did in matters such as this.

"Well, your words bring me joy, since I did not relish the thought of crossing swords with Duchess Silverthorn, in any incarnation. Such a puzzle this presents. That she would teach a mortal is inconceivable, and she would never pass knowledge to a Fae Sorcerer lest they challenge her. Likewise, how could any mortal steal her magics, tied to her lands as they are? There are so many factors to consider, especially Oberon's involvement, and your own.

It makes me ponder anew how you took the step to open your lands to the mortal realms at this time. I need parchment, paste, and yarn to construct a timeline of recent events here and in the Fae Lands to look for the hidden conspiracy that will reveal the secret of those vine-covered walls." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The Bear Prince shrugged, "It's the little half-blooded barmaid." His fellow princes turned and looked at him.

The Bear was blunt, not dumb, and if he sometimes barreled ahead on paths others would avoid, he also had a habit of guessing half-right much of the time. The Fox said, casually, "And what brings you to that conclusion, brother?"

"Oh, just a guess. She's the Mayor of the town and stabbed the Duchess in the back in retribution for her captivity. I know it's a jump to conclusions to think she could somehow steal a look at a spellbook or two as she pilfered that enchanted dagger, but it fits well with a story of a mortal pitted against a foe beyond their measure." The Fox shrugged, "Well, yes, I admit that I had considered her fitting into this puzzle somehow, but now you've tainted my investigation."

The Stag Prince was watching the Summer Lord and then said, "I will accept the unknown conditions of your burden and share it with you." The Fox looked at her, astonished.

"You are normally quite cautious, avoiding the snares of court and the pitfalls of responsibilities to family. To see you rush headlong into a dire commitment such as this gives me pause. Why would you do this?"

"Why, to save you, of course. The only vows I cherish are those I share with my fellow hunters. Were you to begin a lengthy investigation, who knows where it might lead, but certainly the High King would notice you putting your nose into his business and asking questions that should not be asked. If I take the Summer Lords vow, and know the juicy details of what is going on, it would cause you no small bit of jealousy and gnaw at you like a thorn in your paw.

To avoid that, you'll join me and Brother Bear and me in sharing Alwyn's secret, and I save you from yourself." The Fox sighed, "Soundly reasoned. Very well, I'm in."

"As am I." The Bear Prince said.

"Very well. Then I charge the three of you, as King Oberon charged myself and the Master of the Market, to give aid to Suzette, Countess Silverthorn of the High King's Realm. And further, to keep the secret of her identity from the Fae Court until she grows into her power, and to aid her in restoring the poisoned lands of her predecessor."

"I so swear."

"On my honor." The Fox's mind was whirling, "Well, I suppose... yes. But, dammit! I have so many questions." Lord Alwyn smiled at him, "Welcome to Sedgewick. There are more mysteries here than at the High King's Court, and it's a much more relaxing place. I suggest we don our guises of mortal adventurers, pay our respects at the Countesses' tavern, and enjoy a night of stories about wolf hunting by a table near the fire. But we must also be crafty and inventive.

We may not be the only ones to notice the resemblance of these vines to those of the Duchess of Poisoned Hearts." The Fox pondered this as they rode, "Perhaps the Barmaid who the Duchess held captive was forced to care for the vines and stole away with a seed?" The Bear shook his head.

"Many seeds, the entire town is covered by them."

"Ah, perhaps the Duchess cursed her? All the flowers she plants turn into poisonous vines?"

"Why would she keep planting them then?"

"Well, because she heard the howling of the wolves, and planted every seed that she had! Watering them with her own blood, they began to grow, and as the wolves died, they grew higher and higher, enveloping the town, saving it and dooming it at the same time!" The Stag considered, "It does have the classic ring to it, a curse turned to a blessing that becomes a curse. We should go with that. It will sound good at court." With their story crafted, they rode into the town, their mortal illusions firmly in place.

But as they began to enter the town, they paused, stopping at the drawbridge. The Fox looked at the vines growing up the walls of the town, seeing that the older vines were shriveling, their dagger-like thorns dropping to the ground where two people clad head to toe in heavy leather armor were carefully gathering them up and putting them into baskets. New vines were growing from the ground, similar, but with silver flowers and thorns no more dangerous than a rose bush.

Alwyn nodded at the tavern, and they held their tongues as they moved inside. It was a chaotic and exhausted crowd there, with workers helping to serve stew and pour beer. Food came from the kitchens and was passed out to all. They found an empty table in a dark corner, away from the hubbub. No sooner had they sat than the Barmaid appeared. Her face was lean and tired, but her eyes were lively. She put two bottles of wine on the table and many glasses.

"Bob, I'm happy to see you alive. You look like you gave those wolves a thrashing. We've got a stew of lean meat and vegetables, but give it half an hour unless you like your meat tough. It's Snarfang flank, and I had to call for the Butcher to chop it up fine. There's fresh bread from the oven, and all you can eat and drink. And don't let me catch you trying to pay. Wolf hunters eat free tonight and tomorrow. That battle was a near thing, and we have a lot to celebrate."

Try as they might, the Fox Prince couldn't see anything odd about this half-elven lass. He ventured a comment.

"I noticed the vines on the walls, pretty things." She brightened, "Aren't they? I love them. They are a gift from the Fae, can you believe that? I was able to use our Town Building Points to purchase them, the way we earned the Fairy Lights. They bloom with flowers, but if someone attacks the town, thorns appear. They kept the wolves from scrambling up the walls and killed hundreds of them." Bob looked at his companions.

"A wonderful and timely gift, I assume the moat and dangerous fish were something similar?" She nodded her head, smiling.

"We had a few points left, and who doesn't like rippy fish? Betty has a whole bushel of them she's going to soak overnight in clean water and fry up for breakfast tomorrow. Very tasty. You'll have to stop by and try some. After all, better that you're eating the fish than the fish eat you." She giggled a little at her joke and walked away, fatigue showing in her steps, but like the other mortals, happy to be alive.

The Bear grinned, "A gift from the Fae, part of the bargain that brought a fae market and fairy lights.' The Fox nodded, "Much simpler." The Stag poured the wine.

"And the flowers are a lovely touch. Someone has not only claimed the power, but is bending it to their will." The Summer Lord proposed a toast, "To raiding the Baron's wine tonight, a breakfast of rippy fish, and maybe a tour of lands now adjacent to my own, and then a second raid upon my own cellars." The three princes nodded and clinked glasses, "We accept."