Helfer's Busy Day, Chapter 2
#2 of Helfer's Busy Day
The run could wait, after all; summer was drawing to an end, and there wouldn't be many more fine days, but this looked to be one. He jogged to the main entrance and slipped inside the wooden doors to the cool of the stone hallway.
The waking palace stirred around him, rustling from overhead hallways and footsteps on staircases the backdrop to murmured conversations. He waved to Lord Vanadi, the grey fox, in conversation with some official or another, and avoided the eye of Lord Ikinna, who was always trying to get him involved in some weasel bonding activity (and not the fun kind). Rounding the corner to the hallway that led to Volle's rooms, he had to skip out of the way of a coyote who was walking fast in the other direction. Helfer kept going, but he heard the coyote stop.
"Oh, Ikling. A moment?"
He sighed and turned. "Morning, Alister." It wasn't unusual for the King's Steward to be up at this hour, but it was unusual for him to have anything to do with Helfer.
"So this is where you are. Yes. I think it would be best if you come talk to me first. Can you do that?"
The words were delivered in rapid, stacatto patter. Helfer put his paws up. "Look, I'm about to go on my morning run. Can I come by after that?"
"Well." Alister fidgeted from side to side. Helfer and Volle often joked that Alister was the only noble as thin as they were, because he never stopped running. "Really, could you run after? This won't take a minute." He flared his nostrils. Helfer was sure he was going to comment on the smell of sex and bunny, but the coyote stayed quiet.
Helfer sighed. "All right." Of all the lords in the palace, Alister was least likely to waste his time with something frivolous, if only because the coyote rarely had the time.
"Thank you. I'll expect you momentarily." Alister padded quickly around the corner, then stuck his head back around and said, "Oh, and could you change into something slightly more presentable?" Without waiting for a reply, he was gone again.
"More presentable?" Helfer said to the empty air, looking down at his loose, dirty shorts. "Isn't my fur presentable enough?" There was no answer, of course; Alister was probably on the other side of the palace already, lining up his appointments for the next three days. The weasel snorted.
Since he had a few moments, and was so close, he took a detour down the hall to pass Volle's chambers. The door was closed, but as he was about to knock, he heard a deep grunt, faint, and then a scraping noise. It took him a moment to place it as the movement of a very heavy bed. He chuckled. So the fox was getting into it with a bear, now. Well, much as he would like a nice glimpse of that foxy tail, he would leave them their privacy.
On his way to the stairs, he smelled fresh bread in the kitchens, and his stomach rumbled. If he was going to put off his run anyway, he might as well get fed. And it smelled like the cook had put cinnamon in the bread, which meant it was one of Taffen's loaves, and therefore well worth stopping for.
He sneaked in through the kitchen door and ripped a piece of bread off of one of the steaming loaves, tossing it from paw to paw to cool it down while the porcupine manning the ovens gaped at him. Helfer winked and took a bite of the bread. "Delicious as always, Taffen."
An elderly mouse assembling plates at the other end of the kitchen turned. She rolled her eyes. "Lord Ikling. You're no servant's whelp, you should be out there eating with the rest of them." She gestured to the window through which Helfer could see footservants carrying full plates into the dining hall and empty plates back. "And you, Inky, back to work. You've seen Lord Ikling before."
Helfer chuckled as the porcupine scrambled to the wash basin with some of the dirty dishes, finishing the piece of bread. "I'm not dressed for the hall. Besides, the bread's better fresh from the oven."
Taffen sighed. "You'd best take that whole loaf now. I can't send it out there broken."
"Why, thank you!" Pretending to be surprised at her gratitude, Helfer broke another chunk off the loaf and chewed on it as he gathered the steaming loaf into his other paw. "Mmmm, heavenly. You cook like the Mother, Taffen."
"Get on with you," the mouse said, but he saw her smile and knew her irritation was as fake as his surprise. He was about to leave the kitchen when he saw the door to the dining hall swing open, and heard an unmistakable laugh. The footservant who was bringing dishes back to the kitchen let the door close behind him, cutting off the noise, but Helfer would know the laugh of Dereath the rat anywhere. His fur prickled. If Dereath was laughing, then it was almost assuredly not at anything Helfer would find amusing, or even pleasant. He bit off another hunk of bread to make himself feel better, and took the stairs up to his room.
Caresh was absent, probably getting his own breakfast while his master was supposed to be on a run. The fox knew Helfer's schedule to the minute, and often knew it even when it was disrupted, but apparently whatever Alister wanted to talk about hadn't filtered through to the servants yet. Helfer paused at the entrance to his bathroom, wanting to clean up, but he was already later than Alister would be expecting. Anyway, the coyote had had a chance to comment on his smell and hadn't, so he would have to suffer through it.
Volle would notice and comment on it, but he would smell like bear at that point. Helfer grinned, anticipating the exchange, and selected a simple tunic and trousers from his closet. Without Caresh to help him dress, he didn't have time or ability to get too fancy with his clothes.
And what did Alister want, he wondered, easing the door shut to his quarters and pacing down the hall. More than likely it was something to do with the King's retreat. Every year, the King asked one of the nobles to host a retreat, and it had been over a decade since the gentle climate of Vellenland, the main province of Ikling, had had the "honor." Helfer knew that Alister had been putting off a retreat to Vellenland because of his youth, but that wasn't likely to save him this year or next. He started mentally checking off the people he would have to get to organize things: his own steward, his governor, and maybe there were some people in the palace he could get to help him out. Pleading ignorance and a sincere desire to make things go well probably would work. The prospect eased his tension as he made his way back to the Steward's office.
"Morning, Jerish," he said cheerfully, walking in and waving.
The mouse behind the desk lowered the quill with which he'd been copying documents and affected astonishment. "Goodness, Lord Ikling," he said, "how did Lord Alister convince you to actually set foot in his office?"
"I made him sign a paper assuring me I wouldn't have to do a lick of work." Helfer grinned. "Is the old dog ready for me?"
Jerish shook his head. "I haven't seen him but five minutes today, and four of those he was waiting for you. I could've told him to spend the time more profitably. He told me to keep you here, and dashed off to some other meeting." He pointed. "Your valet is slipping. Your tunic's fastened crooked."
Helfer frowned, looking down at his tunic and tugging half-heartedly at one side. "Well, I have my own things to take care of."
"Really?" Jerish arched an eyebrow. "Surely you can afford to pay them for another hour."
"Delightful, that sense of humor," Helfer said. "Never gets old. Pity it isn't funny."
"Funny to me," Jerish said. "You just need to get a different perspective."
"Mm, I like mine." Helfer paced back and forth. "So what's going on, anyway? He didn't say."
Jerish shrugged. "No idea." He went back to copying papers.
"Well, where's Alister gone off to? I'll just find him."
Jerish lifted his head. "I'm sure he'll be back pretty soon."
"Come on," Helfer said. "He went off to meet with Villutian, right? Wallen? Mynoch? Ah," he said as Jerish's ears flicked, "it was Mynoch, wasn't it?"
"Look." Jerish put down his quill. "Just sit still for five minutes and wait for him to get back."
"I know where Lord Mynoch is this time of day," Helfer said. "I'll just pop over there."
The mouse gave a disgusted snort and lowered his head again. "Told him if he weren't here, you wouldn't stay."
Helfer grinned and padded quickly out to the corridor, turning toward the Wolf stair and the music room where Lord Mynoch spent his mornings. Despite lacking any sense of pitch or tone, the old stag loved music. It had become common knowledge that right after breakfast, the music room was to be avoided if one had any compunctions about hearing lovely ballads hopelessly mangled.
At the head of the stair, he stopped and shrank back. There was that familiar voice again, not laughing, but shrilly cheerful, just far enough away that he couldn't make out the words. Dereath was talking to someone, climbing the staircase, and if Helfer walked out onto it, he'd be in plain sight. He chewed his lip. If he skipped around to the next stair, he'd be close to Volle's chambers again and could see whether the fox was up; anything Dereath was doing was likely to be of interest to him as well. But he'd be further from Mynoch, and Alister would be more irritated if he had to hunt him down again. Thus far, Helfer had avoided getting on the Steward's bad side, because that meant worse food and worse seating at palace functions. Maybe he should just wait back in the office, especially if Dereath were coming up the stairs--he'd no wish to be spotted by the rat, who was getting closer still.