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The Chronicle of the Wolves
Part Twenty-Three - Party Favors II

Part Twenty-Three - Party Favors II

The Wolves arrived to the party as the sun was setting behind the buildings while other courtiers, nobles, ministers of states, city officials and other dignitaries made their way into the Councilor’s Palace. Several guards were stationed at the door to check in the guests whereas others were patrolling the grounds. Many had ribbons wrapped on their arms and just under the tips of their spears and laurels resting on their helms to convey a modicum of a festive spirit.

Kveldulf noticed some at a gate farther down the wall were throwing out a group of people dressed in rags. He could see one woman pleading and grabbing at the guard for some form of mercy, only to be throw aside. A short distance from the gate Kel saw a group of party goers laughing and pointing at the group without a care in the world. He wished he had brought his father’s sword with him for a blood filled demonstration for the night’s entertainment.

He felt a hand grab his arm. Turning he saw Cid looking back at him. “There isn’t much we can do now,” he said with woe in his voice. “Maybe when this is all over.”

“Maybe,” Kveldulf said, doubt and shame lingering in her mind.

Cid approached the guard who greeted them. “Evening, welcome to the Spring Solstice Charity Feast. Your name?” the guard said, addressing them in a professional manner.

“We are The Wolf Company, Marin said we were on the guest list,” Cid replied.

“Give me one moment to look,” the guard said, running through the pages of the guest list. “Ah there we are. The Wolf Company, commanding officer, Rodrigo Diaz’la de Vivar’enza de Cideador. Lieutenants, Kel Steigsen and Jeanne Marias. Fellow members, Maeryn of the Cyl’Wich, Augustus Lucius Silvius, Hypatia of Koulberg, Miyamoto Benkin, and Leonidas, son of Cadmus,” the guard paused to count the party. “Everyone is present, please enjoy the feast.”

Moving past the gate, Benkin said to the others. “Should the rest of us have positions, too?”

“I mean, I did qualify as a master swordmen’s back where I’m from before I went on my merry way,” said Benkin.

“Was there an official title for that?” Cid asked.

“Ken-no Tatsujin,” Benkin replied.

“Oh, I like that,” Cid said with some excitement. “Yes! Absolutely, you are our Ken-no Tatsujin.”

Benkin smiled widely with pride as he took in the new position.

“Did anyone else want a new title?”

“Can I be archivist?” Hypatia asked.

“You’re already an archivist,” said Jeanne.

“I just want it official,” Hypatia replied.

“It’s done,” said Cid. “Anyone else?”

“Can I be called Belator Sophita?” Silvius asked.

“What does that mean?” Kvledulf asked.

“Bladed Scholar,” replied Silvius.

“Sounds good to me,” Kveldulf said.

“I’m going to need to write that down,” said Cid.

“Already on it,” said Hypatia, etching the notes unto a wax tablet.

“Where did you get that?” Cid asked, bewildered.

“I keep it on me,” Hypatia replied calmly.

“I’m not even going to ask,” said Maeryn.

“Did you want a title, Hypatia?’ Cid asked.

“Oh archivist is just fine,” Hypatia followed.

“Scout suits me well,” said Maeryn raising her hand briefly.

“Technically, I already have a title,” said Leonidas.

“Fine, everyone has a title,” said Cid, “ now I think we should get to this thing so we can go home sooner.”

The party followed the other guests to the fifth level of the keep, where they could hear revelry being held. As they entered, they saw people inside congregating around long tables covered in embroidered with rich designs of people, buildings, animals, forests and other plant life. Kveldulf looked around, noticing something peculiar and said, “Does anyone notice much of the artwork is of the Council?”

“I was starting to notice that myself,” said Hypatia, slowly raising an eyebrow up.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they spent most of their days in here,” said Leonidas.

“Don’t be too loud,” said Cid, “you’d be surprised how such comments can make it back to unintended ear.”

“Do we need to wait before we can gorge ourselves?” Jeanne asked the Felidan.

“I think we should wait a moment before you start demonstrating your lack of discriminating taste in culinary preferences.”

“You want to say that in a way I can understand?”

“You’re a pig.”

“Thank you,” Jeanne said appreciatively.

Gold and silver platters of food were laid out for the guests to enjoy. Fresh and dried fruits, with small bowls of honey and sugar placed nearby. Varieties of cheeses rested next to glistening samples of meat and plenty of wine to be had.

“Good word, this would give Vinum Saltio pause,” said Silvius.

“You think he’d be impressed,” Leonidas said, before looking out of a window to spot a man dressed in rags rummaging through a pile of rotted food piled outside a house on the other side of the fence, “or insulted?”

“I’d prefer not to find out,” Silvius replied.

“You’d think the whole realm was a land of milk and honey,” Benkin looking over a long silver platter of a variety of sliced meat.

Musicians played along small balconies and dancers demonstrated their skills on raised platforms. Guests chatted amongst themselves moving with haughty purpose, laughing haughtily, and reveling in their luxuries.

“I think we should’ve turned this down,” Kveldulf said to Cid.

“I wish we could,” Cid said with deep regret. “Just another reminded why I can’t stand bloody nobility.”

Cid turned and found Marin coming up to him. Cid put on a smile as he said to Kveldulf, “Kill me, please.”

“My good Cid,” Marin said as he held out his hand to the Felidan.

“Councilor Marin,” said Cid, taking the man’s hand. “So good to see you.”

“I’m glad my tailor was able to provide you all with such elegant outfits.”

“It was certainly a wonderfully thoughtful gesture on your part,” Cid replied.

Jeanne turned to Kveldulf. Oh, he is really hating it here.

Kveldulf bit his bottom lip. What gave you that impression?

“Well, do feel free to enjoy the food and mingle with the other guests,” Marin said, raising his wine goblet to the others.

“We’ll be delighted,” said Cid as he turned to the others. “Won’t we?”

Everyone smiled at Marin, who bowed and then took his leave.

“Please tell me we can leave now,” Jeanne replied.

Cid rolled his eyes and shook his head. “By the light, I wish we could. But let’s … mingle, for a moment so we don’t appear too ungrateful. And for the love of the gods, please don’t start a fight.”

“I only promise to try,” said Kveldulf.

Cid was taken aback. “I was expecting Jeanne to say that.”

“So was I,” Jeanne replied, somewhat stunned. “Not sure how I should feel about this.”

“Regardless, just go and converse with people. See about who we can get on our side. I know … just … do what you can.”

Kveldulf and Jeanne moved over to one of the platters and grabbed a plate each of fruit and cheeses before moving further down the table.

“You think the others will have any luck with what Cid wants?” Jeanne asked Kveldulf as she scooped two large spoonful of fruits onto her platter.

Kveldulf turned to see Benkin and Silvius approaching a group who spotted them and simply walked away. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“Are you planning on talking to anyone?” Jeanne asked Kveldulf.

“No” Kveldulf replied. “I know where my strong suits are and diplomacy isn’t it.”

“Same. So what are we doing here if this is all a futile effort?”

“If I was a betting man, Cid is also doing this whole thing to keep on the Council’s good side for the time being. If we seem to be playing nice, we won’t be meriting their attention.”

Jeanne nodded, grabbing several pieces of cheese. “That makes sense,” as she tossed them into her mouth, her eyes widened and she turned to Kveldulf looking as if she had made the greatest of all discoveries. “This is so good.”

“I should hope so,” said Kveldulf. “One nice perk about the nobility. They get access to an ungodly amount to luxuriant food.”

“They certainly know how to bring the richness out,” Jeanne said as she stuff chunks of chicken and fruit into her mouth.

Kveldulf stared at her with a concerned look.

“Wha?” she asked him, with bits of food flying out.

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“Jeanne, did you not eat today?”

“No,” she said swallowing everything in one gulp. “This is my bruncher.”

“Oh gods, not the bruncher mess again.”

“Bruncher is amazing and you know it.”

“You literally combined all of the three major meals and made it into one word. That’s not inventive.”

“Not with that attitude,” she said as she grabbed a goblet of wine and took a sip. “You should try this wine.”

“Is it good?”

“Here,” she said handing him the goblet. “You try it.”

Kveldulf took a sip of the wine. “All right, that’s not half bad.”

“They might have a branch shoved up their ass so far you can the leaves come out the other side, but damn they know how to glutton proper,” Jeanne said, plopping some more cheese squares into her mouth.

They spotted Cid already discussing with a nobleman dressed in fine grabs. The man was wildly waving his finger and sporting an imbecilic smile mouthing ‘That’s right’ repeatedly. Cid turned to the two watching and extending one claw, made a cutting gesture across his throat before pointing to the nobleman, completely oblivious to the gesture.

“Oh, that poor bastard,” Kveldulf said before turning to Jeanne.

“Should we help?”

“I don’t think murder is the best method for the situation, Jeanne.”

“I wasn’t even considering that until you mentioned it.”

“Come on,” Kveldulf said, gesturing Jeanne to follow. “Let’s see what Cid is dealing with.”

“Outstanding,” Jeanne said rolling her eyes.

Cid, struggling to keep a polite smile on his face, looking relieved as he saw Kveldulf and Jeanne. He interrupted the nobleman, who was rambling without end. “Ah, let me introduce you to my two lieutenants, Kel Stiegsen and Jeanne Marais.”

The nobleman nodded his head, as if possessed by a mad spirit. “So good to meet you both.”

“Charmed,” Jeanne said, turning to Cid with a cold glare. Cid quickly shrugged looking a bit shameful.

The nobleman said. “So good to meet you both. Your captain is a really interesting Mog.”

“Thank you, though, our captain would rather not be referred as,” Jeanne said.

“I think he can speak for himself,” the nobleman replied, shaking his head at Jeanne before giving Cid a perplexed look.

“I have, repeatedly,” Cid said disdainfully.

“Oh yeah,” the nobleman said, waving frantically his finger towards Cid again. “Right, right.”

“So, what are your duties here in the city?” Kveldulf asked.

“Oh,” the nobleman said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, “my brother is in the city’s army.”

“But what about you?” Jeanne asked.

“What do you mean?” the nobleman asked.

Jeanne’s eyes narrowed slowly as she turned to Kel and Cid, wearing a worried smile.

“Oh, so what do you two feel about economic declines?” the nobleman asked.

“I’m not interested in such things,” Kveldulf replied.

“It’s all foreign to me,” Jeanne replied.

“I told you for the tenth time, I don’t care,” Cid followed.

The man, undeterred by the responses, continued. “So, one of the merchants I speak with regularly with says that the nobility should keep from buying more expensive items. What do you three think of that?”

“You don’t seem to comprehend what ‘I don’t care’ means do you?” Kveldulf asked the man.

“I just, you know, get so into these things.”

“You know this doesn’t mean everyone does, yes?” Cid asked.

“Plus, can you imagine how much gold the Council has spent on the situation in Krajina?”

“What?” Kveldulf asked.

“The Prince of Runthia invaded the realm of Krajina in the spring when their ruler announced he was joining an opposing alliance.”

“Oh … wonderful,” Kveldulf replied looking up before shaking his head.

“And now the Council wants to send the Krajina more money for the war.”

“Sweet Light guide me,” Jeanne heard Cid mutter under his breath.

“All that gold spent could be used here.”

“Perhaps it was to keep an even greater amount and the blood of your people from being spent should the war come to these borders,” Kveldulf replied.

The nobleman scoffed, shrugging repetitively in a haphazard manner. “What concern is it of ours? We so far away and they don’t concern us.”

“Because if one region falls, that’ll spur on further encroachment, which means more resources, leading to more land being acquired. And soon that land buffer is and eventually you’ll be next on the chopping block.”

The nobleman, kept smiling at the conversation, replied, “There’s no way we’d be at risk. We’re too big to be taken over.”

“Anyone with an inkling of strategic thinking knows you take a massive nation piecemeal. City by city, town by town. Not the whole region on one fell swoop. And no kingdom is above invasion regardless of perceived invulnerability,” Kveldulf replied.

The nobleman, keeping a smile, but tapping his foot and looking down and breathing heavy turned to Cid. “Can you believe him, saying this when my brother is in the military.”

“You’re not the only one, and that alone doesn’t afford you special privileges. And whatever’s given to your kin is for them and them alone.” Cid replied sternly.

The nobleman, once more starting to fume at the conversation said, “We just need to take care of ourselves. Not use any of our money for a fight we’re not involved.”

“Because the nobles have been allocating the money to the city’s need well before they sent it over to an ally,” Cid replied.

“The money never existed!” the nobleman replied.

“The money never existed?” Cid asked in confusion.

“Yeah!” the nobleman replied.

“The money that was sent over, by the governing body … never existed.”

“No, it didn’t!”

“You do hear yourself speak, yes?” Cid asked. “You hear this and find logic in your words.”

Before the nobleman could respond Jeanne asked. “And what exactly would you do with the money. Just for my reference.”

“I’d give it to the people, we’d all have money, and I’d be all smiles.”

Jeanne gave the man a cold stare. “Is this idiocy a natural talent or a skill you’ve honed over the years?”

“What?” the nobleman asked.

“Never mind,” she said walking away. “I doubt there’s enough of a mind to answer that.”

The nobleman moved to speak with Cid who held up his hand to stop him. “I’ve had my fill of bandying words with a witless worm.”

Kveldulf and Jeanne went back to the table and enjoyed some more of the food and wine. Kveldulf looked off to another part of the feasting hall. “Hmm,” he groaned as he looked back at Jeanne.

“What?”

“You’re getting looks.”

“Oh no, gossipy or lusty?”

“I’m leaning on gossipy,” Kveldulf replied looking back up.

Jeanne turned to find several women, dressed in eloquent gowns and adorned with jewels looking back at her. As Jeanne spotted them they turned away, looking at each other and began giggling and chattering amongst themselves. Jeanne rolled her eyes.

“You all right?” Kveldulf asked.

“You know when you should be mad, but the thing itself is just … not worth the effort?” Jeanne asked.

“All the time.”

“Yeah, it’s one of those.”

“Ah, so no pummeling for them?”

“For the moment, no. But the night is young, and the buzz is just starting,” Jeanne said, letting out a long belch.

The two moved over to a four-tiered water fountain made from white marble. They looked down and saw the bottom of the fountain covered in various coins.

“You think they’d have a problem if I started to grab all those coins?” Jeanne asked.

“I think it’s for the whole charity thing they’re doing,” Kveldulf replied.

“Oh,” Jeanne replied, “forgot about that.”

“Yeah,” said Kveldulf, “Not a lot of signs that this charitable work Marin talked about.”

“You seem entranced by this marvelous piece,” they heard a woman say. Kveldulf turned to see a woman from the group they saw earlier stand next to them. She was in her thirties, dressed in a pure white gown with golden embroidery along the edges in a floral pattern. Long blonde hair with long sections around the bottom dyed with a menagerie of color, blues, greens, violets, and oranges swirled together in wild patterns.

“It’s very nice,” Kveldulf said cordially. Jeanne simply nodded, saying nothing and revealing clenched her teeth while giving the woman a forced smile.

“This was commissioned by my father, you see,” the woman said, “the artist was a brilliant man, far beyond his years. He made this in the shape of our world, which is in the round. Allowing the water to flow over the sides without hinderance, and never the same twice. And the top level is diminutive, barely existent, getting bigger as the water lands in each new level. Until it lands at the bottom, is reclaimed and goes through the whole process again.”

“So like a fountain,” Jeanne replied coolly. Kveldulf turned his gaze to her wide eyed.

“Exactly,” the woman replied, pleasantly surprised. She looked out over and her demeanor turned sour. “When did they invite a bark-eater into here?”

Kveldulf and Jeanne turned and saw Maeryn chatting amicably with some of the other guests, and was the only elven woman in the small crowd. Jeanne turned back to the woman, “What about her?” she asked taciturnly.

“Look at her,” the woman insisted, “Woman of her ilk pervade the very concept of civilization. Living in burrowed trees, feasting off the land like animals, and from what I heard, they have no quarrel with inviting anyone to their bed.”

Jeanne looked at the woman, beginning to press her lips together. “You don’t say?”

“Perhaps we should …” Kveldulf said, trying to change the conversation before Jeanne interjected.

“Oh no, let her finish,” said she, her gaze never leaving the woman. “I’m dying to hear more.”

“Thank you,” the woman said, “I swear this city is going down a road to ruin, letting such unsavory characters get a better influence in out city.”

“But Allianna is an elf,” said Kveldulf.

“Oh, she’s of Eldar blood,” the woman replied, “and far more refined and with centuries of wisdom. Her Woodland kin are nothing more than mutts on two …”

The woman stopped as she felt a burning sensation on her back, she turned sharply to find her hair smoldering. Panicking, she began screaming and flailing her arms when she suddenly threw herself back and into the fountain pool. Other party guests flocked to aid her as Kveldulf turned to Jeanne who had a mischievous smile on her face.

Kveldulf gave her a blank look.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“In any other situation I’d say something,” he said before leaning in, saying in a hushed whisper, “but she was asking for it. Stiil, I think we should go.”

Jeanne looked back, watching the woman, dress thorough soaked and her hair now a watery veil, crying at her misfortune. “That would be prudent,” she said in a refined tone.

The two found Hypatia and Leonidas leaning against a column, conversing with each other as they watched the party from a distance. “Not in the mingling mood?” Jeanne asked them.

“Most of them are sad conversationalists to say the least,” said Hypatia, “despite thinking the contrary.”

“If I have to hear about damn thread counts one more time, I think I’m going to kill someone,” Leonidas followed.

“Well hopefully this damned affair will end soon enough.”

“Shepherd willing,” said Jeanne, crossing her arms.

“I think our glorious host is about to speak,” said Leonidas.

“Please do,” said Hypatia, “I want this to end so I can get some sleep.”

The others turned to see Marin standing at the far end of the room, near the fountain, the soaked woman now long gone, holding his goblet into the air, tapping it with a spoon. “Dear friends,” he said to the crowd. “It is so good to see you here, and for a good and worthy cause.”

Many in the audience clapped tepidly.

“And now it is time to tally the amount we have raised, to help the poor coarse, weak, dissolute common folk of this fair city!”

The audience applauded once again; more energy invested in the effort this time.

A servant handed Marin a note. He opened it, reading the contents and addressed the crowd. “This year, we have raised over thirty thousand merliah! Which will go to many of those in need.”

As the crowd cheered, Jeanne, Kveldulf, Hypatia and Leonidas looked at each other. “That doesn’t seem like a lot of money considering,” Hypatia said to them.

“It isn’t,” said Cid, walking up to the rest of The Wolves. “That’s hardly enough for a year’s cost for a decent orphanage, let alone a whole section of the city.” Cid then looked around at the decorations and food. “And I know where most of the money is actually going to be spent,” he said in disgust

“You’re kidding?” said Kveldulf.

“Such wonderful parties need to be paid somehow,” Cid replied. “Heavens forbid those with the means part with their own coffers, abstain from such extremes to allay their guilt for living richly.”

“I think I want to go,” said Silvius, pressing his arms against his sides.

“Likewise,” said Cid, “I need no more reminds why I left this whole farce behind.” Cid gestured the others to follow. “Come, we have more important things to do than cultivate egos of our betters.”