A.N.D. - Wolf Woods

The first thing Tony had invented in the kingdoms was the frisbee. More elaborate inventions were to come-his entire miserable career with the Murrays had taught him everything there was to know about basic hot water systems, radiator heating, simple electrical work, and elevator maintenance. Those inventions alone would make him more gold than could be counted. But first was the frisbee. Because the best way to think was outside, playing with Prince.

There was a lot to think about. No, worry about. He had everything he thought he’d wanted-all the respect, prestige, and money he’d had back when he was young. He even had women chasing after him! For so many long, empty years he’d dreamed and schemed of returning to this kind of a life...although even his wildest fantasies hadn’t involved elves.

Tony sighed, took the slobbery ring, and tossed it again to a wildly happy dog. His 'd half-convinced himself that he had forgotten her, he'd missed her. She’d cheated on him, made him crazy, threatened his wonderful daughter... and still he loved her. He hadn’t realized how much until he'd seen her again.

At first he’d gone to see her body every day where it lay in state and cried by it, mourning her death, her madness, the long years without her. When he got calmer he visited her every other day and started talking. He told her everything he’d felt, how much he’d missed her, everything that had happened since she’d been gone. It made him feel closer to her. Besides, it comforted him to think that maybe, somewhere, she was cured and could hear him. Her pristine body and the blooming flower on her glove suggested some form of magical hope.

As time passed and his grief eased, he visited her once a week, just to say hello. There would come a time when he visited her once a month, and then a time when he didn’t feel the need to visit her at all. Maybe then he could do more than smile and nod with the palace beauties who flirted with him.

Maybe.

He missed Virginia, a lot. How was she doing back at home, with that nutty Wolf? Was she okay? Was he treating her right? He was terrified of giving up all his newfound prestige and self-respect for a life in jail, but maybe it would be worth dodging cops to go back to see her. Just for a bit.

But right now, he had a frisbee to throw.

“Lord Anthony! Lord Anthony!” Wendell called. Talking to his former manservant was always an exercise in humility. Now that he was king everyone was just waiting to fulfill his slightest wish… except Lord Anthony, who not only had a tendency to be lost in thought or lost in the royal crypt, but who had a disconcerting habit of slipping and calling him “Prince.”

If he calls that silly dog “Wendell,” I don’t want to know!

The dog noticed him first, dropped whatever slobbery thing it was playing with and ran up, barking and waving its tail. Although his magicians told him the spell on it was broken, Wendell couldn’t help losing his composure at the thought of it touching him. “Lo-Anthony! Tony! Help!”

Anthony snapped out of his reverie. “Prince! Sit!” The dog plunked on its bottom so quickly that it skidded a bit, then posed prettily, waving a paw for a shake.

“Good boy,” Wendell told it and gave it a wide berth. “Lord Anthony, I need to speak with you. I have a new job for you.”

When they'd first met, that offer would have been greeted with a suspicious, “What kind of job?” or a greedy, “Yeah? What does it pay?” Even now, Wendell was half-expecting either selfish response.

He had, once again, underestimated Anthony. “What do you need?” his former manservant asked quietly.

“I need you to become one of my advisors. I want you on my council.”

“Why? I don’t know anything about running a kingdom!”

“You once ran a business, didn’t you? I mean, you ran it, you were at the top?”

“Until I lost everything! You want that to happen to you? What advice can I possibly give you? Do you know how afraid I am to mess everything up again?”

“Do you know how many times you saved us all on the journey?” That stunned Anthony into silence. “Your solutions may not have been elegant or heroic, but they worked. I need that now, Anthony, my whole kingdom needs that. I need the advice of someone who has experience solving business problems. Someone who has managed men and not considered them faceless servants. Someone who understands life outside a palace. Someone who is strong and stubborn enough to ignore me when I whine and complain. Lord Anthony, I need you.”

Wendell started talking as soon as he walked into the council chamber, determined to take and keep control of his men. “I have decided that these are the problems that we shall take immediate steps to fix. First, the rescue of our citizens that have been captured by the trolls. Second, the rebuilding of our damaged towns. Third, the signing of peace and support treaties with our closest neighbors-treaties which shall not include the loss of this kingdom. Fourth, the raising of morale within this kingdom, to include finding a way to assimilate our new wolves.”

As he’d expected and feared, nobody was cowed. Dozens of voices spoke up at once, all of them starting with “What about--?”

If he tried to answer them all, he’d be there all day explaining. It’s your kingdom. Act like it! Wendell cleared his throat, silencing the questions, then turned to Chancellor Griswold. “First and only item on today’s agenda. Chancellor, how are we going to assess the troll slave situation and rescue any captives?”

Griswold cleared his throat as well. “We shall send a messenger to the Troll Trio reminding them of your mercy in not having them executed, and asking them to return any captured citizens as an act of good faith.”

Wendell stared. Had this man ever met a troll? “And if that does not work?”

Griswold shrugged. “There is no other alternative, Sire. If that doesn’t work, then we have no way of pressing the matter. We shall have to give those people-if there are any-up as dead.”

“That is completely unacceptable!”

“What would you have me do?” Griswold snarled. “You can slap the table all you like, that won’t bring back the soldiers killed during their first push! It won’t bring back the soldiers scattered by your stepmother! It won’t resurrect the men killed during the war! It won’t bring in the harvest if we send our farmers out to fight! That is the choice we face, your majesty-abandon a handful of captives or starvation for us all! The early harvest is about to begin!”

No! He would not let his people down! “If we have no standing army, then our first order of business must be to build one.”

“I just told you that the farmers-”

“Will stay in their fields. I shall build my new army around my personal guards.”

“Wend... I mean, sire,” Rupert said anxiously, “your personal guards are supposed to guard your person!”

“And they did such a splendid job of it that my castle was infiltrated by my worst enemy and my life was only saved by a wolf, a waitress, and a...” his voice trailed off, looking at Lord Anthony.

Who had no problem saying the word. “And a janitor.”

“Exactly. Perhaps a little field work will remind my guards how to actually guard. There are what, 100 of them? They shall become the platoon leaders of my new army.”

“And where will you magic the rest of your army out of?” Griswold wasn’t giving up. “Where are we going to get hundreds of men to staff these platoons?”

Everywhere he looked around the table, his advisors were frowning and shaking their heads. “Impossible.” “There’s no one.” “Griswold is right.” Everyone looked hopeless... except for Lord Anthony, who looked thoughtful.

“How many wolves have immigrated in the last few weeks?” he asked.