A.N.D. - Wolf Woods

Queen Red did not have a secret police force. There had been one, once upon a time, but King Carmine had eventually convinced her mother that making people disappear in the middle of the night was a wolfish infamy.

She did, however, have Royal Investigators, a cross between a detective and a royal guard. One stood behind her now as she sat at the head of her Council. It took all her concentration to not look around the chamber to see if the others were also in place, standing ramrod straight in the shadows along the ill-lit walls. As money got tighter, needless frills were abandoned. Lighting the corners of a cavernous hall was as needless a frill as she could think of.

Before her on the table were the items recovered from Madeline’s room. Along with treasonous anti-queen propaganda in flyers and ripped-out newspaper articles were far more damning items. A letter, block-printed, with suggestions on how to scare an old man to death. A tin key, with the top-and-bottom ridges of a soap-impression mold. The metal was weak and had been slightly bent when it was found; it became more twisted when the investigator turned it in the lock on Lord Chamberlain’s door.

The lock had opened.

“Madeline Tossfeather has been arrested on the strength of these items,” Red announced in her mostly queenly tones. “Naturally, she claims that they have been planted and that she is innocent. There is nothing here which can prove or disprove that. The writing in the note is obviously disguised and could be anybody’s.”

“Does she have an alibi?” an old lord quavered.

“She says that she spent the night Lord Chamberlain died alone in her room, reading. I did not call her to serve me after she helped me change into my nightgown.” How I wish I had! Then she would be safe from this madness! Oh, Maddie, Maddie...

“Put her to the rack! That’ll get the truth out of her.” Lord Redspear had always been the most bloodthirsty of her courtiers.

“Instruments of torture have been illegal since the ninth year of the reign of my mother, by order of King Carmine. You know that.” Mother had fought hard against that, but eventually Daddy got his way. Little Red had thought he was being weak, until that educational, awful afternoon in the garden when he had slapped her until she'd broken down and said whatever he wanted to hear-that the sky was green and the sun was really the moon. Then she understood how horrible and useless torture was. When her mother died, she’d taken great pride in destroying all the engines of maiming and agony, using the bits to build the King Carmine Memorial Library. She hoped Daddy would be pleased.

“We all know what happened to King Carmine,” Redspear scoffed. “He was too kind to people.”

“My mother was not, but she died as well,” Red icily reminded him. She snapped her fingers and the Investigators stepped out of the shadows. “If one person in this castle is truly plotting against me, then others might be as well. I have ordered every room to be searched.”

Letters, pamphlets, and other treasonous materials were set in silent damnation before some Lords and advisors-mainly the most rabidly anti-wolf ones, Red noted grimly. Redspear swallowed in fear as a map of the castle, with Lord Chamberlain’s room and the Royal Bedchambers clearly marked settled in front of him.

“Are you sure you really wish me to reinstate torture?” Red asked with icy politeness.

Virginia leaned out of the window. What a beautiful day! “Let’s take little Dell out with us to the market,” she suggested.

“No!” Wolf and Littlebit shouted in unison. Virginia jumped at their vehemence and Dell started to whimper until Wolf picked him up.

“It’s not time for the undenning,” Wolf explained. “Is it, Littlebit?”

“Uh, yeah, of course, the undenning, can’t take the cub out without an undenning...” Littlebit sounded slightly hysterical, and Wolf and Virginia both stared curiously at her. She coughed, then smiled weakly.

“What’s an undenning?” Every time you turn around here, it’s some new weird thing…

Wolf bounced in excitement. “Oh, it’s a big, big ceremony! All the village comes to meet the baby, and there’s a feast, and presents, and...”

“And the cub isn’t supposed to be seen in public before then,” Littlebit chipped in. “It’s considered bad luck.”

“I think it’s really to protect the baby from catching anything until it’s big enough,” Wolf elaborated, half apologetically.

“He’s awful big now.” He was. Dell was growing in size and abilities far faster than a human child would, although the fully-wolfen midwife occasionally shook her head over him. Apparently, wolf cubs developed very quickly. Half wolves naturally developed more slowly, but Dell was three-quarters human, and must be slightly slower yet.

“Usually it’s held just after the cubs start to walk-or, in the case of half-wolves and humans, crawl.” Wolf said. “To tell the truth, I think it’s less of a ‘welcome to the village’ ceremony and more of a ‘if this baby crawls off when its parents aren’t looking, it belongs to this pack’ deal.”

“It’s very bad luck to bring a cub out before the undenning,” Littlebit repeated, holding out her arms for Dell. “You go out and have fun and we’ll be all right together.”

Wendell sent the map unrolling across the Council table with a flick of his wrists. “If we can build a wolf settlement at each of the marked locations, we should be able to set up a network across this entire kingdom. Instead of it taking days to get a message from one border to the next, it will take only hours.”

Predictably, Griswold both misunderstood and hated the idea. “Sire, having wolves all around the forest is bad enough. This will put wolves all throughout the kingdom! Your messengers are good enough-why change that now?”

“I’ll show you why!” Wendell stabbed a finger at the map. “What’s that?”

“The border with the Third Kingdom,” Griswold said obediently, confusion in his tone.

“And my castle is?” Wendell’s finger slowly traced across the expanse.

“Equidistant between the borders with the Seventh, Fifth, and Ninth kingdoms.”

“Exactly! All the way on the other side!”

“I still don’t get it, your Majesty. Nothing has moved.”

“No-but the Third Kingdom has moved against us. What if the Troll Trio decides to finish what their father started? What if they rise against my borders again? How long would it take me to find out? Would I find out at all before it was too late? A royal messenger in livery galloping along the roads is a prime target in war. A wolf can slip through the woods, unnoticed. And even if a wolf cannot get away, their howling carries.”

Wendell thumped the map with a clenched fist. “Wolf howls about Lady Virginia’s baby reached this castle within half an hour of the birth. The wolf messenger came much later, and the regular messenger later than that. For a birth announcement it’s all right to wait an hour or two, but an hour in battle can be the difference between victory or defeat. We shall build new small towns at each of these locations, based on what they’ve created in New Sanctuary. It would be like what Lord Anthony calls a Ruin... Roaming... What was it again, Anthony?”

“Roman garrison, your majesty.”

“Roman garrison, that’s it! Nothing too big. Just enough for some human and wolven troops, some professional howlers, and their families. That way, no matter what happens or where it happens, some soldiers can get there quickly and hold the line until reinforcements arrive.”

He thumped the map again. “No other kingdom will be as well-informed and well-protected as ours-and all without the evil magic of my stepmother’s mirrors! In fact, nobody could pull a coup like hers again; the word would get out too quickly. Only one howl anywhere along the way would alert the whole countryside. Think of it!” He spread his arms wide. “We start building tomorrow!”

The news was received with mixed emotions all over the kingdom. The wolves and half-wolves were warily excited to have villages built for them. Architects and builders were happy to have enough work to keep them busy for months to come.

They weren’t so thrilled at the Baa Bar.

“Can you believe this? It’s bad enough that he lets them in at all, now he’s planting wolves all over the bleedin’ kingdom like they was daisies!”

“Madness! ‘S got to stop!”

“Yeah, but how? These days, ya gotta have a tail to get the Puppy Prince to listen to you.”

“Maybe we should just call him ‘Rex’!”

Rough laughter greeted that, except for the bitter old man in the corner. “Maybe we should do something about this,” he muttered darkly. “Maybe it’s time we made him see that his pet Wolfie ain’t the hero he thinks it is.”