Famine or Feast

[Opal]

"Lady Kovari..."

Kovari's large paws slid from the window sill, her claws grating against the newly-laid stone, but she did not immediately turn to face the messenger that had entered the throne room. The way his voice flickered and died like a snuffed candle told her this could be nothing good.

The messenger's hoarse cough finally made Kovari turn. The wolf was not as big as her messenger, but she was an alpha and he did not dare challenge that fact. Of course, the title seemed rather antiquated these days in comparison to the wild days of her distant ancestors in the frigid lands far to the northeast. Things had changed when many of their kind settled far to the southwest. They built great stone castles to live in, castles that shut out the stars at night. Castles with bedsheets that strangled and ensnared and left her wanting for a simple bed of straw. Castles with chairs that forced her to sit ramrod straight. Tirian had gone soft like his uncle, like the rest of them. Kovari had not. Would not. Somebeast had to keep the spirit of the First Alpha alive.

Several seasons back, Tirian's uncle, King Rolf, had given the order for the pair of them to head north across the vast channel separating his kingdom from the verdant, untouched lands to the north. Mossflower, they called it. Rolf had given his favorite nephew a near-finished castle for his twenty-seventh nameday. Kovari remembered the row she'd had with Tirian; it had been their worst. In the end, Kovari couldn't deny the fact that she could not refuse a gift from the king; it would be a tremendous insult, and her life could have been forfeit.

"Talfor." Kovari nodded stiffly.

Talfor dipped his muzzle in respect. "My lady, a message from King Rolf arrived with Skyplume a short while ago." He passed her a weathered scroll, which she unfurled and scanned.

"It says he is sending two hundred of his guard, and they will arrive by winter's first snow. Why is this bad news?" she growled.

Talfor flinched, shuffling his footpaws. "Well..."

A ferret backed into the throne room, dragging a large bundle across the floor. Kovari and Talfor watched his progress in silence; the ferret whipped open the bundle without ceremony. The broken body of a tern tumbled out and settled at Kovari's footpaws, the head twisted at an unnatural angle.

"Skyplume..." she breathed. He had been Rolf's most prized messenger bird. "How did this happen?"

"Most likely a sling stone as he neared the castle," said Talfor. "We're lucky to have retrieved him without further incident."

Kovari turned back to the window, the clench of her jaw and her grip on the sill equally tight. "How many deaths have there been in the past season? Ten?" she gritted.

"Eleven, I'm afraid."

Kovari whirled round as her lanky mate loped into the hall.

"There you are, Tirian. Where in hellgates have you been all afternoon?"

"Apologies, my love. I was just checking with Ula on the building status. She says if there are no major delays, work should be finished in ten days' time." A grin flashed across Tirian's muzzle. "Then we will have a feast the sight of which has never been seen in this land. And at its conclusion, we can let the remaining slaves go free, as promised."

Kovari cleared Skyplume's corpse in an agile leap, coming nose to nose with her mate. "Are you mad, Tirian? Do you not see that bird behind me? We can't let anybeast go anywhere."

Tirian looked decidedly uncomfortable. "But...they were promised..."

"Well, circumstances have changed!" Kovari barked. "Eleven deaths in the last season, and four of them in the last fortnight alone. Whatever worms are behind this, they're getting bolder. We need every available body to hunt them down and weed them out."

"Lord, Lady, if I may," Talfor interjected. "Whoever is behind the attacks most likely knows Mossflower better than we do, and so far they have used the forest's cover to their advantage. If we send a contingent out to find them, they'll likely get picked off one by one."

Kovari rounded on the wolf with a warning growl. "Know your place, beta."

"He speaks truth," said Tirian. "We really should just wait them out. When His Majesty's guard gets here, then we will have the numbers to deal with them."

"So you're both proposing we just act as sitting ducks until then? Do you have any idea how weak we will look? What if the other tribes in the area decide they don't want us alive either? We'll be seeing more than just eleven deaths then, mark my words."

Tirian sighed. "We don't have much choice. If we all just sit tight and not allow any entrance to or exit from the castle, we should have more than enough supplies to last until reinforcements arrive."

Kovari jutted out her jaw. He was right. She knew he was right, and she loathed everything about him at that moment, from his stupid twitching nose to his pampered footpaws.

Talfor eventually broke the awkward silence. "Well, I suppose we have a feast to plan. What shall I do if any of the slaves...object?"

Kovari's already sour expression darkened. "Tell them you'll let Yvo deal with them."

Talfor shuddered before he and the ferret made their exit from the throne room, and it was no wonder why. Yvo was Ula's mate, debatably the most vicious wolf in their small pack. He was in charge of keeping the slaves in line and on task. Productivity levels had not been an issue as long as he had been in charge.

"Right." Tirian reached for his wife's paw, and she reluctantly let him take it in his own. She pointedly avoided his eyes, still furious at him. "Don't worry, love. We will soon crush the gnats that annoy you so. In the meantime, please try and relax. In ten days' time we shall have a great feast to mark the beginning our prosperous reign."

Tirian led her to her throne and she sat. He took his place beside her. Kovari looked over at him and saw a flash of the adventurous soul she married; her anger fizzled away and she gave the smallest of smiles.

"Tirian and Kovari," she announced to the empty hall, "Lord and Lady of Kotir!"