Pugsley –oh, sorry, Pugslæg– had insisted that Enid should be on horseback for the rest of the ride to the castle. That's how the lycanthrope found herself at the moment, on the animal's back as it was calmly guided by the knight walking beside her.
Enid was surprised at how calm the horse was. Werewolves and other animals had varied interactions, but usually farm animals tended to show at least a little nervousness. That this horse was showing zero reaction to carrying a lycanthrope was an indication that either the rules in that reality were different or that the animal had been raised in an environment where people of Enid's species were commonplace.
The ride was not silent. During it, Pugsley had no qualms about narrating, even in a very brief way, where they were. The kingdom of Nova Gersia, personal domain of the Adamo Clan since time immemorial and the only kingdom in which the outcasts had the rights of citizenship. Although they had been "officially" at peace for decades, the kingdom was in a state of cold war and constant diplomatic tensions with its eastern neighbor, Jeriko. Relations with other kingdoms were little better: they were too busy fighting among themselves to think of messing with the Adamo, which was considered suicide. The only kingdom –though it wasn't a proper one, really– with which Nova Gersia could speak of some friendship was the Northern Packs, an independent confederation of different lycanthropic clans.
"And that's where the princess Eneit Synklar you mentioned is from," Enid said, "But wait a minute, if they're a confederation of packs how come there's a princess?"
"Well, the term princess is a bit of a formalism. It's been a somewhat turbulent few years for the packs," Pugslæg explained, "I wouldn't want to bore you with details, my lady."
"No, no! This is... uh... interesting? And the more I know the better, really. I wouldn't want to look like an idiot or offend anyone I shouldn't."
"Well, the packs elect a leader who represents them all until their death or resignation. I'm not entirely sure what the precise method is, but there is voting for a number of candidates and various physical feats must be overcome. Although the position can also be taken by challenging the sitting leader to a single duel," Pugslæg recounted, "A couple of years ago things got a bit tense because Eneit's mother, Eistir, acceded to the mandate after incapacitating the other candidates before formal votes could be taken."
Oh, of course. Of course another version of my mother has to be a bitch, Enid thought, Fan-fucking-tastic.
"That...that doesn't sound legal," the she-wolf commented.
"Well, legality is flexible when a show of brutal force is considered diplomacy. And Eistir made it clear that she could have defeated any of her competitors if one of them had been elected and take over instead," said Pugslæg, "But anyway... that made her the Wolf Queen and immediately her sons got the title of princes and Eneit the title of princess. And that's when the tensions began..."
"How?" asked Enid. At this point she was totally absorbed by the story. It was like a perfect blend of gossip and a fantasy novel.
Gosh, I hope this world is nothing like Game of Thrones, she thought.
"Eneit had already been living with us for many years. Since we were puppies, as she likes to say. Her grandfather had sent her here to arrange a marriage contract with me," Pugslæg said, scratching his beard uncomfortably.
"With you!?" asked Enid, "But you said that..."
"I know, I know. Please, allow me to go on telling what happened."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"That's all right," laughed the knight, "Well, those were his initial intentions because I was the only male heir of the Adamos back then. My older brother was still my older sister officially, though in the family we all already knew where his true spirit lay, and when he moved from being Lady Wednesdei to Lord Wodnesdæg suddenly there was a male heir closer to the heart of the wolf princess."
Oooh, so the Weds of this dimension is male but not by a cosmic whim with chromosomes like mine and Eamon's case, Enid thought, before another idea crossed her mind.
"Wait, if your brother had never made his transition, the two of them couldn't be together?" she asked, uncomfortably.
"Oh, no one in Nova Gersia would have had a problem with it. But the packs are very traditionalist, at least when it comes to appearances. And while Old Synklar had a good heart... well, a five-hundred year old lycanthrope tends to cling to old-fashioned ideas."
Five hundred what!!?
"Holy shit...," muttered Enid, "Well, so my Wednesday here is a prince called Lord Wodneda... Wodenesda... uh..."
"Just call him Wod. We all do and he's no longer threatening to rip our skin off," said Pugslæg, "Well, moving on with the story... the first thing Eistir did was try to cancel the union promise of her daughter and my brother."
"Figures," Enid snorted, holding back an irritated growl.
"There was a lot of diplomatic back-and-forth, so much bickering... In the end Eneit herself decided to return north to settle things. Wod accompanied her, of course."
"What did they do?"
"Isn't it obvious? Eneit beat her mother to within an inch of her life. And Wod made sure none of her brothers intervened," Pugslæg laughed, "Defeating Eistir made her legally the new Wolf Queen, but given the incipient marriage she decided it wouldn't be practical to be queen of two kingdoms, so she allowed her mother to keep the mandate... nominally. So Eistir is still the Wolf Queen and Eneit just a princess, but all the packs know that Eneit is the one who actually rules despite her title."
"Wow...just wow," Enid said. The story had thrilled her and even dispelled some of the worry that lingered in her as to what situation Wednesday and the others would find themselves in. But at the same time she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy toward her local counterpart.
If only I could have settled things with my family so easily with my own hands, she thought.
"My lady?" asked Pugslæg, who had noticed the slight frown on his guest's brow, "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes, relax. I was just thinking about how alike and different some stuff is from one universe to another."
"I apologize if I sound impertinent, but may I assume that you and my brother's female counterpart from your home realm are...?"
Enid couldn't help but smile, "Together? Yes. I mean, not engaged... or maybe we are. At least not formally, but Wednesday and her family always say I'm already an Addams... err, an Adamo in all but name."
Pugslæg looked at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes but with a kind smile on his mouth, "Mmm, I see. In all but name, yes. That sounds appropriate... Ah, we're arriving."
They left the forest, the trees with more and more space between them until they came to a spot in the open, a wide meadow and large fields of crops surrounding...
Oh my God, it's like that city in Lord of the Rings but all in black and gray stone!
The city seemed to emerge and grow from the mountain itself. Streets, houses and walls ascending in different levels until reaching the highest point, a huge castle of jagged appearance crowned by a twisted tower from which emanated gases and greenish vapors that contributed to a constant cloud darkening the sky over the city. From its appearance it might appear to be an evil kingdom, the seat of the Dark Lord, if stereotypes were to be believed. But as they approached, Enid noticed no particularly poisonous smells or anything out of the ordinary for a city. The air was clean and there was a vibrancy in the atmosphere that the she-wolf could almost feel in her innermost self.
"Behold, the capital of the kingdom of Nova Gersia," Pugslӕg exclaimed, "Nevermore!"
Enid laughed. Of all the names...
They continued to approach the city and the closer they got the more awe the she-wolf felt. It was huge, much larger than it appeared from a distance. On the outer edges the houses and other buildings were built in the usual fashion, but on the mountain-bound side the city seemed to have been carved out of the rock itself. The huge entrance gates were open when they arrived, with a steady traffic of villagers, merchants and their wagons moving in and out. They passed through with no problem: Pugslæg merely threw a salute to the guards and they merely nodded back.
The main street leading up from the gate to the inner wall was bustling. Market stalls, inns, bars, street performers, musicians, people here and there. Enid could tell that everyone seemed relatively well fed, healthy and in clothes that might not be fancy but were of decent quality. No one seemed to be in need, no one was wearing rags.
She saw a fountain where a group of siren children were playing in the water, exposing their tails without fear or shame.
She saw a couple of vampires under a black parasol sitting at a table outside of what appeared to be a tavern, arguing in good humor and chattering with laughter with other individuals, apparently normies. Mugs of foaming blood were clinking with mugs of ale in the toast.
A creature that could only be described as an old hag, with green skin, mossy hair and a beaky nose, walked openly down the street without any trouble or attracting stares or causing panic.
A young couple, she human and he some kind of male harpy with silver feathers on his wings, exchanged romantic glances.
No matter where she looked, outcasts and normies seemed to coexist in peace. No fears, no bitterness. The feeling that swept over Enid at the sight, a kind of longing, was so intense that she caught herself struggling to hold back tears.
And in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but notice the reactions to Pugslæg. Or perhaps rather, the lack thereof. Here he was, their prince returning home, and there were no ceremonies or parades. Only the knight leading his horse with a guest, greeting and returning greetings, exchanging kind words with his subjects as if he were just another neighbor. Some people looked at her with some surprise or curiosity, but no one said or did anything inappropriate or that made her feel uncomfortable even though she was technically still only dressed in a huge cloak wrapped around her body.
They finally reached the highest point, the outer walls of the gigantic castle that crowned the top of the city.
"The Castle of Qoth,” said Pugslæg, “Here you may clean yourself and rest. Of course, I must inform my parents of your arrival and its circumstances, but there is no need to be in a hurry," he explained as they entered the huge central courtyard of the castle. The place was a hive of activity, with servants, craftsmen and guards. Enid couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be some sort of festivities in preparation. Chairs and tables were being set up, and there appeared to be something resembling a stage.
"Pugsley, what…" she started to ask, before she was interrupted.
"My lord Pugslæg!"
The one who had shouted was a man running towards them, in a hurry. Tall and thin, very thin, wrapped in a black cloak rolled around his torso and with his head covered by a hood. Enid could see, as Pugslæg helped her down from the horse, that the individual was very pale, with almost gray skin and dark, bulging eyes marked by dark circles under them, and apparently bald. The she-wolf could not help but think that he looked like Fester if Fester were two heads taller and thin as a skeletal stick.
"We expected you back from your border patrol two days ago!" the man exclaimed, stopping before them and catching his breath. He looked frantic, stressed.
"Tiberius!" exclaimed Pugslæg, opening his arms by way of greeting, "I'm terribly sorry, but I had a slight mishap near the Jeriko marshes."
The man, Tiberius, merely looked at Pugslæg with a raised eyebrow before merely sighing, "I swear by all the lords of Ævernus, if you've been wasting time again to practice wrestling with frog-bears..."
"Of course not!"
"Two days. Two days, Pugslæg. Your brother was already thinking of going out to look for you..."
"Wod and Enie are back already?" the knight asked, smiling jubilantly.
"They arrived a week ago. And in all that time they've barely left their quarters, they're as bad as your parents," said Tiberius, with a resigned expression, "So you'll understand if he's a little cantankerous at the thought of having to go out looking for his little brother to make it in time for his wedding day."
"Wait... Wedding?" asked Enid, looking at Pugslæg, "Your brother's getting married today!?"
"Hum... didn't I tell you, my lady?" the portly knight asked, scratching his beard in embarrassment.
"NO!", she growled.
"Ooops?"
Tiberius looked at them, his bulging eyes flicking from one to the other but focusing more and more on Enid, "Pugslæg, who is... our guest?"
"Oh, this is Enid Sinclair, I found her unconscious in the southern forest a few hours ago. She's an Eneit from another reality."
Tiberius stared at her, processing what he had just heard as Enid timidly waved a hand and tried to defuse the situation with a smile. Finally, Tiberius merely nodded.
"Mmm, well, well, I guess we can accommodate another guest. And if she's from another reality of existence we should treat her as if she were an ambassador, with all the protocol that entails," the lanky individual murmured, "Follow me then, lass! I'll round you up with some ladies and maids of the service and we'll get you a proper room and suitable garments."
Enid cast a glance at Pugslæg, who merely nodded.
"I too must retire for my preparations, and surely hear a few angry words from my brother," he said, "You can trust Tiberius, he has served the Adamos faithfully for centuries."
"Centuries?" asked Enid.
"Yes, I've seen it all over my years with this family, the kooky, the spooky and all the ooky. Welcome to Quoth Castle, my lady Sinclair," said Tiberius, bowing in a curtsy as he held out his arms. And as he did so, he left his limbs visible as they emerged from beneath his cloak and Enid could see how the slender individual's right arm ended in a stump adorned by a bronze bracelet.
Enid knew immediately who he was, and received confirmation right then and there as Tiberius finished his greeting.
"Tiberius T. Thing," he said, "You might say I am the right hand of the family."
NOTES
The grew-up Pugsley/Ser Pugslæg artwork comes from @barblaz-arts on Tumblr.
Well, the city of Nevermore is basically Minas Tirith from Return of the King but in black and gray and with a castle that looks like Addams Manor made out of black stone and about ten times bigger.
Finally, the meeting with the local Wednesday is postponed for another chapter, but I hope you like Tiberius 😁
No comments:
Post a Comment