Chương 542: The Petting Zoo

The three High Fae Princes, proud Knights of the Beasts, and each a hero in their own right, looked at the retreating human who didn't seem to care if they followed him or not. Their conversation on the subject was surprisingly limited... adding to their surprise at suddenly becoming their fuzzy namesakes.

"Yip."

"Naaaaaa?"

"errrowl!" The Summer Lord looked at them in shock, then took a deep breath and bowed slightly, careful to still treat them as their rank deserved. He was out of his depth here, and greatly worried. Anyone who could so easily enchant three High Fae of such power was not someone to trifle with, and he prayed that the transformed Princes did nothing rash.

"My lords, I'm sure that this is a strange predicament that you find yourselves in. If you wish, I will meet with this person on and intercede on your behalf to straighten out any misunderstanding. But, it may be wise to follow the advice of this person, who surely is a messenger of whoever is behind this enchantment. Leaving could lead to... complications." Alwyn had only the barest idea of what was going on. The area felt strange to him now and slightly hostile.

The three animals made various noises, debating the issue with much gesturing and drawing in the dirt. The Stag suggested the enchantment would fade over time. The Fox wanted to retreat to the Fae Lands, a sure way to break mortal enchantments. But the Bear seemed uneasy, and using one claw, drew a very nice picture of a pie. Alwyn understood immediately.

"You entered the area of a powerful creature, and in their domain, you accepted food and ate it. Coupled with wearing the totems of your beasts, that would create a very powerful enchantment." The Bear growled and then scampered to follow the human who had given them the message. Alwyn and the other two followed behind. Their path took them through a rustic little town.

Unlike Sedgewick, with its houses of stone blocks and interesting architecture, this place was a collection of large shacks that had expanded over the years, turning into a maze of sagging wooden dwellings. But it was a lively place, with many people about. Each house had a wide porch, often with people sitting and talking, sewing, peeling vegetables, or shouting across to their neighbors. The houses showed signs of repair and recent rebuilding, but many needed more work.

Especially the roofs where moss, rot, and sagging rafters had taken their toll. Some had colorful, if crudely made, signs proclaiming things for sale. There was music here, from the people playing strange, twanging loots, often dueling each other in a parody of a strange, bardic contest. Several buildings had hand painted signs proclaiming they were traders, similar to the low fae at a spring faire. Clyde's healing poultices, guaranteed to cure toerot, ghoulbite, and blacktooth.

Aunty Ginger's Invigorating possum stew. Treat yourself today! Maps! Maps of the Red Chapel! Don't get lost and eaten! Mary's flowers. They smell good, and ghouls are allergic to them. Granpa Simms' fine Hootch. Best 'Shine in town! Alwyn was surprised to see many players visiting these dubious establishments. And a dozen clustered around one titled Hungrytown Merchant Association and Center for the Redistribution of Wealth and Property.

The words didn't fit on the sign, and the second half was painted on the side of the house underneath. On the side of a large square of hard-packed dirt, several people, mostly older women, were preparing food. Cleavers flew as they chopped vegetables and some small animals into chunks, and then everything went into a huge cauldron over a low fire. As the quartet walked through, following their guide, someone yelled and pointed at them.

"Hoo boy, someone brought in the meat still walking on its own." A lively discussion started, debating whether venison or bear would make the best stew, and what recipes should be used. The Fox was annoyed at how little he was valued, the best use that came up for him being meat for the stewpot and his tail on a hat. The Bear stood on its hind legs and growled, which scared no one and even made a few people clap.

Children had come running to see what the excitement was, some getting closer, but most were pulled away by sensible parents. An old woman in a threadbare dress with a bright, sunflower print sat in a rocking chair on the porch of the largest house. When the Bear growled, she yelled to them in a stern voice that left no doubt in their minds about who wanted to talk to them. Her voice made even the Bear nervous, and the Fox turned to flee, finding the Stag was standing on his tail.

"Settle down, you three. These folks don't mean you no harm, even if I might. And if you were to threaten even a hair on their heads, I'd have a new bearskin rug for my hearth and make knitting needles out of those antlers. Not sure what good a fox is, but that tail might make a pull cord for my come-to-dinner bell. As is, you are in a world of hurt and not far from ending up in the stew pot. So I suggest behaving yourselves." The three animals were out of their depth.

Their clever tongues were silent, their magic locked away, and their new forms clumsy and strange. They went behind Alwyn, and the Bear pushed him forward. The Summer Lord took this as an agreement that he should speak for them. He was unsure of what to say at first, but applied his wits to the problem. The woman was obviously a great power, and his companions had transgressed against her. He suspected how, based on his still having two legs and not four.

If this were the court of a Fae Lord, he would know how to proceed, but this place was anything but. He remembered the horrible mistakes he had made when he first came to the mortal lands. She looked at him, and her eyes bore into him as if she could see all of his faults. Her stern gaze turned pinned him down, like a butterfly stuck in a spiderweb.

"Speak up if you have something to say. Cat got your tongue? I've yet to know a High Fae who couldn't talk for two days straight, even if they had nothing to say at all." Her rough speech gave him a clue. He'd observed the mortals of the small villages around his tree and spent hundreds of hours in Sedgewick, studying their speech and habits. These people seemed different, but his ears had caught some clues from their words. They didn't seem cruel, more amused at his companions.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. My friends have offended you. They want me to speak, but I'm unfamiliar with your ways."

"Not quite unfamiliar. You paid your bill and tossed in a little more. So you know enough to be polite and pay for your food." She glared at the three animals, "Unlike some people. And if you're going to act like animals, stealing pie and scarfing it down with no thanks to those doing the cooking, then you might as well look like animals. Gives polite folk a warning about who they are dealing with. Not that there might be a next time..." The animals looked at each other, puzzled, then with alarm.

The Summer Lord understood part of the problem.

"I see. I think. There is a debt owed of coins? If that will settle part of this matter, I will pay their bill." She looked at him as she rocked back and forth.

"There is a debt, but it won't settle the matter, and is only a symptom of the problem. They need to learn some lessons about how to treat people. This isn't the Fae Lands where they can do what they like, and tradition is on their side. They need to learn the rules if they don't want to live in the woods and be food for the squirrels. Take a seat here on the porch, and we'll jabber at each other a little bit. As for you three? Go amuse the children. They'd love a petting zoo of gentle animals.

But if I hear one cry of pain or disappointment, I'll make mittens out of your hides. It's getting colder now, and the children need some new clothes." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The three princes, still greatly confused, walked to the center of the square. A dozen children ran up to them and began petting and poking at them. The Fox grew uncomfortable and dodged away. A dozen children followed, and a game of 'catch the fox' was started.

He was careful to let them almost catch him several times before 'accidently' running into one of the littlest ones and getting wrapped in a tight hug and carried off to be petted. The larger children lifted their younger siblings atop the Bear and the Stag, who slowly walked around the town with three young children atop each of them. The Stag was nervous, walking slowly, but the Bear seemed to be enjoying himself as the children clung to his thick fur.

Alwyn watched them for a few minutes, holding his breath, then turned to his host.

"I don't think they know what they did. They saw lesser fae and treated them the same as they would in their own lands. But they are valiant heroes, each of them." She nodded and began knitting something, possibly a sock. Knitting was one of the strange mortal skills that fascinated and confused him.

"That they did, not wondering who they might offend. But this isn't the lands of the High Fae. This is my place, and my rules. Tell me why you didn't do as they did?"

"Oh, well, I know that the brownie clan came here to serve the... to serve Suzette, the barmaid who runs the local tavern. She met them when she travelled through the Fae lands, and she offered them a place here. The clan works hard, and she rewards them for their efforts as if they were mortals, and not lesser fae. I have an agreement with her to provide a market, so it seems right for me to treat them as she does. And, I've met the head of their clan. Rory is an expert trainer of goats.

I have several guarding my rose bushes and vineyards, keeping the unicorns in line."

"And the lesser fae in your own lands? How do you treat them? Do you reward them there?" Alwyn tried to think of the few people living on his lands. It was a fair question.

"I've started to, these last few years. I have only a few, I'm embarrassed to say. I'm not a rich prince, and most of my people have lived on my family's lands for generations. There is Twitterberry, my advisor. He is away at court with my Hound, representing me there and doing a far better job than I would. For decades, I paid him the traditional seven jars of royal honey, four suits of new clothes, and three pairs of boots each anniversary of the Ice Queen's coronation.

After recently gaining a higher station, I offered to pay him more, and he declined, saying I should invest it for him in the mortal realm. I've set aside some gold for him, my faithful hound, my gardener, cook, and butler. The Master of the Market is helping me with my investments."

"You trust a lesser fae to tell you where to put your gold?"

"Of course. He's a cunning fellow and is trusted by the Mayor of Sedgewick. I see no reason not to do so as well."

"Ah, yes, the Mayor of Sedgewick. Let's talk about that one." Alwyn was suddenly nervous.

"There is little to say, we have an agreement, as I've said, and I do business with the Baron, her liege lord."

"And that's all?" Her eyes grew hard and bored into his soul. It was all he could do to keep a straight face.

"That is all. Still my tongue and turn me into a newt if I lie." She laughed and slapped her knee, "Ha! And a still tongue would help you keep her secrets, wouldn't it?" Alwyn said nothing and wondered what newts liked to eat.

"But, she's been here, and we've talked, and I know what and who she is. That coffee shop was her idea, by the way. We'll leave off talking about her for now." The old woman lit her pipe.

"I am Mama Laveau, and this little town is part of my realm, and I hold power here. I champion the small folk and protect them from the great powers in Gadobhra. I have no love of the High Fae and their ways, but will tolerate them as long as they follow my rules and I hear nothing of cruel ways outside my domain. What can you tell me of these three?" Alwyn knew he was being given a chance.

"They dislike the intrigues of court and the endless progression of arranged marriages, great balls, and feasts that blur into one another. They hunt the greatest of beasts, partly for trophies and partly out of boredom. They are victims of their upbringing, as all of us are. It took the terrors and tragedy of the mortal realm for me to begin my journey of understanding. But they have only begun.

These last few days they have been heroes, fighting to save the small towns of the mortals, and if they kept score of their kills, it was only to urge each other on. They can be better, but they need a chance to do so. They are not cruel and can be kind. They treat their own retainers well." She rocked and smoked for a few minutes, and he said nothing, while watching the Bear roll on the ground with a little girl on his fat belly. Finally, she nodded her head once and said.

"We'll give them a chance. But for such a transgression, they will have to do some work. It will be good for them, and help them along this journey you're on. First off, they go pay for their food and apologize. Real apologies, not fae honeyed words. Then I have some work for them to do. Can they drive a nail straight? A lot of roofs need fixing?"

"It may be something they need to learn, but I know that the Stag Prince enjoys carving wood, and the Fox has clever hands."

"Well enough. The longer it takes them, the better the lesson. And I have dishes to clean, berries to pick, and taters to gather. It's getting colder these days, too, and cold winds are finding their way here. Too many people without warm clothes and drafty houses. A few of the workers from Sedgewick help out now and then, and the Butcher drops off meat for the pot, but these folks have ages of abuse piled on them. It takes a lot to keep the despair at bay." The Summer Lord had felt those cold winds himself.

It had been generations since his line had the power to live up to their title, but it was something he'd fight against, with what little power he had. For now, though, he had companions to get out of a dire situation.

"I don't mind doing dishes, and I know how to pick grapes. If they are like berries, I can do that too."

"I have no quarrel with you, Alwyn the Summer Lord. You are free to go." He shook his head, "Free from offense, but not free from the loyalty of companions in need. I will stay and work with them. I'm actually looking forward to it." She raised one eyebrow, then blew out a smoke ring that floated off over the houses, the ruined castles, and the walls of Gadobhra.

"You're strange for a fae, but you'll do, Alwyn. Be careful when you pick the berries. Grapes don't have long, poisoned thorns like my vines. And loyalty deserves a reward. Would you like another piece of pie? Then we'll get your friends back on two legs and up on the rooftops."