The Son of Alar

Chapter 7

Philip awoke feeling a little stiff and very hungry. He stretched and stifled a yawn, then sat up. Looking down, he noticed that his clothes were rather disheveled and sighed. Would he ever be able to keep his nice things nice for even a day?

He stood up and stretched some more, then sighed and looked to the door of the washroom beside his parents’ bedroom. He wasn’t sure if they were awake yet or not, but didn’t want to disturb them either way. He would just use the privy downstairs, then get something to eat.

He left as quietly as he could and made his way down the corridor. After he had relieved and groomed himself, he proceeded to the dining room to see what was being served. There were several lovely smells emanating from the kitchens already, among which he discerned pine nut bread—his absolute favorite! More even than other red squirrels. He entered the dining hall to find it sparsely populated this time of the morning. Good. He’d get first crack at that bread!

He did get one of the first portions, along with some ham, oatmeal, and blueberries. It was delicious as always, though he only had water to drink this time. After last night, he was in no mood to take his chances with stronger drinks again anytime soon. Still, everything tasted wonderful. The simple fact that he had lived to see another meal made it twice as good. As he prepared to take another bite, he felt a hardy paw slap on the shoulder.

“Good to see you safe and sound, Philip!” came the voice of Prince Ambrose.

He instantly turned and bowed his head to the prince, though inside he felt an absolute tumult of emotions. Was this the squirrel who had ordered the attack on him last night?

“Glad to be back, Your Highness,” he replied.

“Indeed. Rest assured, these evil squirrels who are roving our streets trying to do away with my family and friends will soon be rooted out and exterminated. That is a promise.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Philip, trying not to look into those intense blue eyes. “I’ll try not to make your job any more difficult by wandering off unescorted.”

“Not to worry, Philip. If you need to go anywhere, just let me know, and I shall provide all the protection you need. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to take some of this delightful fare to my sister and her fiancé personally.” He added in a lower voice, “Can’t trust the servants with such a duty at times like this, you know?” He winked and carried on toward the kitchens.

“How is Lord Athos, by the way?” asked Philip.

“Recovering quite nicely,” replied Ambrose over his shoulder. Philip was glad to hear it, but even gladder when Ambrose had gone. He finished eating as fast as he could and left the mess hall before the prince could come back. He ascended the stairs and started down the corridor. About halfway down, he heard a “Psst!” off to the side. He turned to see Rory standing in the doorway of a small closet.

“What do you want?” asked Philip stiffly.

“In here,” Rory said, stepping aside and waving him into the room. “I have to talk with you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“No really! I swear, what happened last night isn’t what was supposed to happen.”

“Oh? And what the f**k was supposed to happen, huh? Was I only supposed to be taken captive or partially maimed?”

Rory looked absolutely crestfallen, and Philip felt a pang of sympathy for the gray in spite of himself. “All right,” he sighed as he stepped inside. Rory shut the door until only a crack of light remained.

“Listen, I…I didn’t know what they were going to do. If I’d known they meant to harm you…”

“And who are they?” asked Philip, seizing the opportunity.

“I…can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’d kill me if they found out I had. Me and my family both.”

“Hmph!” grunted Philip. “Where did you go last night when you left?”

“The basement of another tavern across town. It’s supposed to be our rendezvous point.”

“And how often do you meet?”

“Er, once in a while. When we’re called to.”

“By whom? Who are you working for?”

“I…” He averted his gaze. Philip blew a heated sigh.

“Perfectly willing to trade the lives of others to save your own, huh?” He shoved Rory aside and opened the door. “Some friend you are.”

“Philip, I’m sorry. I…”

“f**k off!” replied Philip as he stormed away. He did not have the heart to turn and see the look of hurt in Rory’s eyes. He already felt as though he’d just stabbed himself through the heart with the dagger he now carried strapped to his thigh. He had shed enough tears last night.

His parents were up and about when he got back. They were just about to go and break their fast, so he decided to return to his own chamber for a bit, promising to join Adam for a turn in the gardens afterward.

“It’s been so long since we were able to take a good stroll together,” said Adam. And his son agreed.

So, Philip spent an hour reading, followed by a couple more hours walking the garden paths with his father while Alar looked into more palace security measures. It was pleasant. So pleasant that he nearly forgot about that morning’s encounter with Rory. The memory left a slightly sour taste in his mouth during lunch. Even worse, he had to sit directly across from Ambrose, whose constant looks and overly friendly remarks he had to endure stoically and even smile at now and then. He had to do it, he told himself. For Rory’s sake, if nothing else. Perhaps Ambrose was innocent, but if he wasn’t, then any hint that he knew it could be taken by Ambrose as a sign that his informant had told on him. Then things would go ill for the gray.

Philip wasn’t even sure why he should care. After what had happened last night, he deserved whatever he got. Yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to condemn Rory entirely. Oh, why couldn’t he be hard and simply turn his back on the gray like Rory had done to him? He did notice that Rory wasn’t present, even though Lord Halos was. Evidently he intended to keep a low profile. Regardless, he was glad when lunch was over and he could retire to his chamber again. This, too, was for the best, as he couldn’t be tempted to tell his fathers about his reunion with Rory either. No doubt Alar would want to go have a talk with him, which would almost be worse than whatever Ambrose might do.

He sighed and shook his head. It was too soon for bed, so he decided to slip out of his clothes and read some more of the book. He hoped to finish it tonight. He lay back with one paw holding the book up to the lamplight and the other tucked behind his head. This really was a good story. He would be sure to ask Adam for another sometime. The royal palace probably had quite a few books, when he thought about it, but probably none quite like this one. As he came to the fiery climax of the story, his eyes lit up. He untucked his paw from beneath his pillow and placed it on his stomach, then slowly slid it lower…

“Ah! Ah! Ahhhh, f**k!”

Alar moaned with absolute delight as Adam’s warm, slick member slid rapidly in and out of him. It was a sensation he knew so well, yet one that never grew old. He could feel Adam’s hot, panting breath against his chest as he hugged Alar’s body close and thrust repeatedly up. Alar had secured himself in place by wrapping his limbs around Adam’s shoulders and waist. His feet rested just under Adam’s tail, which lay out flat on the bed behind him as he focused all his energy on delving into his lover’s tail hole.

He grunted and sped up his thrusts. Alar’s moans grew louder as he sensed what was about to happen. Adam gasped, and Alar sighed as hot semen flowed into him—that glorious bittersweet fluid he could never get enough of. As soon as Adam stopped thrusting, Alar loosened his hold on him, placing one paw on Adam’s shoulder to brace himself and reaching down to grab his throbbing p***s with the other.

It didn’t take much pawing for him to finish, and his grip on Adam’s shoulder tightened.

“Aw, f**k! Awwww!”

His seed gushed forth like some sporadic geyser onto Adam’s chest and stomach. Adam bent down and stuck out his tongue to catch as much as he could. It had been several days since they had last made love, and it showed.

When Alar was all tapped out at last, Adam bent down to lick the last drop off Alar’s tip, then raised his muzzle to give his husband a loving kiss.

“Ahh,” sighed Alar, coughing a bit from the exertion. “Even after all these years, we’re still pretty good at this.”

“Experience counts for something, my love,” said Adam, brushing his mate’s head fur with a paw. “And you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Aye, true enough. But nothing helps clear the mind like a good fuck.” Alar kissed him again, then slid off Adam’s member and released his hold on his shoulders. He spun around and sat beside his mate on the edge of the bed, then fell back with paws folded behind his head. “I still prefer our bed back home, though. The new one.”

“Yes, it is pretty comfortable,” Adam agreed, wiping himself off with a cloth and passing it to Alar. “When do you suppose we’ll get back?”

“As soon as everything’s sorted here, I imagine,” replied Alar, absent-mindedly dabbing at his tail hole with the cloth. He tossed it aside, then stiffened and sat bolt upright. “I remember now!”

“Remember what?”

“Where I’ve seen that emblem. The one those assassins had on their belts.”

“Where?”

“You know that necklace Lady Diana wears?”

“The pretty gold one? Yeah.”

“That’s it! That’s where I’ve seen it.” He stopped and sighed. “But, I suppose that doesn’t prove anything.”

“No. Although it is a very unusual design. Two snakes devouring one another.” He shuddered. “Creepy, all told.”

“Aye. But again, it proves nothing, except perhaps that they were made by the same artisan.”

“Nice try, dear.”

A knock sounded on the door to their chamber.

“Who’d be calling at this hour?” asked Adam.

“Not sure,” spoke Alar, rising. “I’ll find out.”

He slipped on his undershorts and passed from the bedroom into the main room and across just as the knock came again. Bracing himself for the worst, he unlocked the door and opened it. There stood a palace servant—Jeffrey, he thought his name was.

“Good evening, sir,” he said in that measured tone all palace servants used. “I’m sorry to disturb you and your husband, but you have a visitor who wishes to speak to you.”

“And who is that?”

The servant stepped aside, revealing a young gray squirrel noble.

“Rory!” exclaimed Alar.

“H-Hello, sir,” spoke the gray with a nervous bow.

“Shall I permit him entry, sir?” asked the servant.

“Yes, of course!”

“Very good, sir.” The servant gestured for Rory to enter the chambers. The young gray stepped inside, the servant bowed and disappeared, and Alar closed the door.

“Rory?” spoke Adam, who had entered the room dressed in his undershorts and an unbuttoned shirt.

“Aye, that’s me,” said Rory, shuffling about awkwardly. “Pleased to meet your lordships.”

Alar took a seat by the dead fireplace and fixed Rory in a glare that could have melted ice. “You’d best start talking real fast, lad. Give me one good reason I should let you leave this room after what you pulled.”

“Because I know everything. And even though they’ll probably kill me if you don’t, I want everything to be made clear. For Philip’s sake.”

“Go on.”

So, Rory sighed, then began his explanation.

“A few months ago, I was having a night out on the town. I decided to try this new tavern over on the east end, a nice place by all accounts. As I was returning from using the loo out back, I saw this flash through the curtains on the cellar window. It was the kind of flash that doesn’t come from ordinary means. It had to be magic. Naturally, being a mage’s apprentice and all, I was curious. I figured I’d just pop in real quick and see what was going on, and maybe help myself to some more blueberry wine while I was at it.

“Well, as I went down the stairs, I heard voices. Voices I recognized. Taking a peek around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I saw Prince Ambrose, Lady Diana, and a couple of others gathered in a circle performing some kind of ritual. I knew from my studies that it couldn’t be anything other than dark magic. So, I turned to leave and go tell someone, but as soon as I turned around, some big fox squirrel was standing on the stair above, and he grabbed me.”

Rory stopped and shook his head.

“And then?” prompted Alar. “What happened next?”

“Well, he brought me in and threw me on the floor before the others. Diana wanted to kill me right then and there as some sort of sacrificial offering, but Ambrose intervened. He said I could be useful because of my connections.”

“Connections?”

Rory nodded. “People I know around the palace and the city.”

“I thought you were from the country.”

“I am originally. But my family fell on hard times, so I came to the city to find work.”

“You mean you weren’t always apprenticed to Lord Halos?” asked Adam.

“No. It was Ambrose who found me and brought me to Halos’s attention.”

“What did you do before then?”

“Well, whatever I had to, you know?” said Rory, averting his gaze.

Alar leaned back in his chair and looked to his mate. Adam shook his head sadly. Alar sighed and looked once more to Rory. “Go on.”

“Well, they let me live as long as I didn’t tell anyone, and as long as I agreed to serve as their spy. In return, they said once they’d achieved power, they’d see to it I became a court mage and had enough riches to support my family back east for the rest of their lives.”

“And you believed them?”

Rory shrugged. “What choice did I have? Saving my life aside, Ambrose was my friend. He pulled me out of the gutter and gave me a purpose. When everyone else here wanted nothing to do with me because of my past, he and Lord Halos saw beyond all that and treated me like a real squirrel, and not just some used property.”

Alar nodded slowly. “Fair enough. So, Lady Diana is complicit.”

Rory nodded. “Yeah. In fact, I dare say she’s really the one in charge. You see, the flashes I saw were indeed magic. And it was coming from her.”

“Diana is a mage?” gasped Adam.

“Worse. She’s a dark mage. A sorceress, some call them. She wants Ambrose to become king so she can marry him and become Queen of Kentros, then use its army and her power to conquer the weaker lands around it. To become another Magus or worse.”

Even Alar couldn’t hide his look of alarm in that moment. The situation was far worse than they had thought.

“Does Lord Halos know of this?”

Rory shook his head emphatically. “No one outside of their circle knows. She’s been secretly dabbling in the dark arts for years now and laying false trails to keep him off her back. And she recently acquired some artifact she thinks will give her even greater power. I don’t know what it is exactly, but with it, she could rival even Halos in magical ability.”

“That is most troubling.” Alar paused, a look of deep concentration on his face. “But what I want to know right now is where Philip came into this plan.”

“He didn’t at first. Ambrose was curious to know more about you, since you were so close to his parents,” replied Rory. “I don’t know what it is he wanted to know exactly, but he thought Philip would be easier to approach than you directly, so he asked me to…” He swallowed hard. “To seduce him.”

“So, Philip was just a tool in your little game,” remarked Alar.

“No sir! That is, he was to Ambrose and Diana, I suppose. Until I found out about Philip being of royal blood and all. Then they took a very keen interest in him.”

“To kill him, you mean.”

Rory nodded. “Yes, sir. Though, I think Ambrose was more interested in making him a co-conspirator. Either way, I swear I never would have told them that if I thought they would try to kill him right away.”

“But killing him later would have been just fine, I suppose.”

Rory shook his head adamantly. “By Skiouros, no! I figured I’d have a chance to warn Philip so he could get away. I didn’t want to see him hurt. Nor any of you.”

“Why? Wouldn’t that clear the way for your friend Ambrose to sit on the throne and give you all the rewards you could ever want?” spoke Alar bitterly.

“It would, but...” He sighed. “But that’s not what I want at the end of the day. I know that now.”

“What do you want, then?” asked Adam, leaning forward in his chair.

“I just want Philip to be safe and happy.”

Alar scoffed, and Philip bristled indignantly.

“It’s true! I love your son. I wasn’t supposed to, but I do. And until last night, I had hoped that just maybe he might love me too.”

Rory looked so utterly miserable that Alar had to avert his gaze, lest he feel a pang of sympathy for the wretch. He could tell Adam was already on the verge of going over and giving the young squirrel a hug, but refrained on Alar’s account. Rory was not an evil squirrel, he realized. Nor was he even what you could call mean-spirited. He was merely a misguided youth who had leapt at the first chance he was given to leave an unfortunate situation behind. Not unlike himself in his younger days, though he had thankfully had much better guidance. He sighed, shook his head, and looked up once more.

“I believe you, Rory.”

Rory looked so surprised and relieved that Alar almost smiled. He cast a glance at his mate, who also looked a bit surprised, his tail in that signature question mark shape.

“That’s why I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Oh, thank you! Anything, sir!”

Alar nodded. “Good. Now, listen carefully.”