Werewolf fairytales

A new job

*Fenrir*

I am rather shocked to discover that I enjoy talking to my father during the carriage ride to Arbor House. The Alpha is fascinated to hear that Fennec and I have imported curry and lumber to England, birdcages and silks to Spain.

“So you really weren’t pirates,” he says finally.

“I started out that way,” I say frankly. “I was never the yo-ho-ho, walk the plank type of pirate. But I captured many a ship, took everything of value, and sailed away.”

“You made your first fortune as a highwayman,” my father says, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then: “Was there anything I could have done to steer you into a more ethical profession?”

“I doubt it. There’s no way for someone like me to prove his manhood here in England, let alone to win that manhood. My future was handed to me on a silver platter, bound up with a royal patent. I wanted… no, I lusted… to pit myself against other men. To fight.”

My father sighs. He is tall and lean and scholarly by bent. Clearly, he hasn’t the faintest ambition to take on a man in a battle to the death.

“I must resemble Mother’s side of the family,” I say cheerfully. “At any rate, piracy proved the life for me. I fought with every possible sort of weapon, and survived sea battles, not to mention storms. I could sail and steer a boat around the most dangerous shoals in the world.”

“How on earth are you going to live in England?” my father asks, his tone bleak.

“There’s nothing to pit yourself against here. Is this a mere visit?”

“No,” I say. “I’m wounded. At thirty, I’m ready to rest on my laurels. I’m not fool enough to try to man a ship with a bad leg. Pirates fight like trapped badgers, and I’d be dead in six months.”

“His Royal Highness told me that you and the Alpha of Islay are responsible for dismantling a number of ships involved in the slave trade. A disgraceful, disreputable business.”

“Yes.” I hate to think of those particular ships. What we found there makes me sick at heart, even after Fennec and I send the human cargo back to our own shores with a heap of gold coins and the slavers’ ships to boot.

“You’ll need something to do,” the Alpha says. “I’ve a judgeship open. Justice of the Peace for Somerset. You can do that.”

“Something to do,” I echo. “Why, aren’t gentlemen supposed to do nothing, Father?”

My father raises an eyebrow. “I busy myself.”

“In fact, we rarely saw you, if I remember correctly.”

“My work is important. The high packs of this land stand at the monarch’s shoulder to rule with him, and beside him. But I do wish I had seen more of my children.”

“I can’t see myself a judge,” I remark. “From criminal to justice overnight? It doesn’t seem possible. I know nothing of English law.”

But my father grins. “You are captain of a ship for over a decade, Son. There must have been many a sticky situation for which you act as arbiter. The prosecutor for the Crown will inform you of the relevant laws.”

“Ah.”

“You can begin on Monday. There’s a backlog of cases, since Pursett died last month. I’ve been dragging my heels about appointing another justice.”

“Monday!” I exclaim. “Where does this court meet?”

“A mere half hour from Arbor House,” my father says, a distinct note of satisfaction in his voice. “We’ll have the formal investiture, such as it is, at eight in the morning, and you can begin listening to cases at nine.”

“Nine in the morning? The same morning?”

My father looks at me. “There are men sitting in jails across the county because no one has been sworn in to listen to their pleas.”

I suddenly break out in a howl of laughter.

“What?”

“There’s the father I remember. You always had a way of pointing out the right and moral way to do things, Father. In your eyes, there was never a different way.”

“I hardly think…,” the Alpha begins.

“It’s all right,” I say. “I’m old enough. I ran off and became a criminal under all that pressure, but I believe I’m old enough to live up to your expectations now.”

“Are you saying that you took up a life of piracy in reaction to my… to me?” My father looks horrified.

“Absolutely not.”

The Alpha lapses back into the corner of his carriage, looking shaken. I have always been a good liar, and clearly that hasn’t changed. It is not easy to be raised by an Alpha who puts his duty before his family. But it does explain why I became a criminal famous through three seas, if not seven.

Not that it’s an excuse, I think to myself. Just an explanation.

In fact, it is time for amends. Likely I will be in the courtroom at 8:00 a.m. on Monday.

But at the moment . . . there are different amends that I have in mind.