Ciara—The Red Wolf

	Ciara knew how nervous Niamh was about getting on a horse again, and when they left the pond she tried to hold Embarr to a trot.  But he wasn't having any of it.  She took him out for a ride every time she had an evening free but that was barely enough for him to burn off his excess energy.  During each of Oseille's four market seasons she was so swamped with work that she had to leave him cooped up in his paddock, and that made him fretful.
	This month the Autumn market was in session and she'd already spent a quarter of everything she'd earned then to replace all the boards he had chewed to pieces.  She felt guilty about every one of them.  But since she was the only farrier in thirty miles she couldn't afford to turn down work.
	Halfway home, she forgot her resolution.  It felt so good to feel him gallop again that she didn't have the heart to reign him in.  There was a joy in the the feel of his muscles working under her and of the wind in her face.  But after he jumped a hedge, and Niamh squeezed her hard enough to crush the breath out of her, Ciara leaned down and grabbed his ear.
“Take it easy.  Niahm and I only have so much time together today and I want to enjoy it,” she said.  
Embarr flicked his insulted ear out of her fingers and shook his head, but he slowed down enough to get Niamh to relaease her death grip.  When Ciara could breathe again, she patted Embarr's shoulder.
“Good boy,” she said, and she grinned at his snort of disgust.
	Embarr stopped when they reached the road back to Oseille, and Ciara sniffed the air with one ear cocked to the side.  It was dangerous to ride blindly onto the road, and her nose and ears were much better than her eyes.  But she couldn't smell anything but rabbit, and the lingering traces of Niamh's cologne which had been mostly washed off in the pond.  It was only because Niamh stiffened behind her that she didn't urge Embarr to go on.
	“I can smell lynx,” said Niamh.
	“Maybe they came for the market,” said Ciara.
	“Not by the river road.  They would have come up along the highway,” said Niamh.
	Ciara urged Embarr up onto the road, and felt Niamh tighten her grip again. Lynxes did come to Oseille to trade sometimes, though they usually kept to themselves.  They controlled most of the northern tip of the island which let them trade with the towns across Coburn Channel instead.  A few came because of curiosity, too, or because they wanted to keep an eye on Cearnach.  They weren’t dangerous, at least no more than the foxes who came for the same reasons.  But Ciara kept one ear cocked and one of her hands on both of Niamh's, which were clasped around her waist.
Oseille's Autumn Market was the most popular event on the island.  Lots of people came to the others, some from as far away as the Jaspertree Mines which were across the Channel.  But in the autumn everyone came to buy or sell in preparation for the winter, or to have one more good time before the snow trapped them at home.  From the last week of August to the first week of October the population of the little town was easily tripled.  Ciara looked forward to it all year because it was the one time she really felt at home in Oseille.  The size of the crowds didn't come anywhere close to what they had been in Cearnach, but the bustle, and the sound of a dozen languages all being spoken at the same time was comforting.
The marketplace itself was at the front of the city.  The only reason Oseille had walls in the first place was because they defined the area where the stalls could be set up.  There was a vast open space just inside the front gate that was, itself, nearly half as large as the rest of the town.  This was where the richest merchants, or the luckiest, were allowed to set up their tents.  They were always brightly colored affairs, nearly buildings themselves, made of canvas and wood or cloth draped over spare metal frames.  While they stayed open you could see people of nearly every species in the world wandering between them, burdened with their purchases or seeking to lure buyers to look at bolts of cloth, sacks of flour or loaves of bread made with dried fruit baked right in.
The crowd at the front gate parted to let them into the city, but only because they had Embarr.  He had never liked strangers, and while Ciara could keep him from hurting anybody the sight of him fretting and tossing his head was enough to get most people out of his way.  One buck rabbit, who was too slow in moving, was sent sprawling when Embarr turned suddenly and bumped the rabbit with his hip.  After that there was a wide open space around them all the way to the tavern.
	That wasn't enough to stop the most determined merchants.  They were barely inside the gate when a mouse child came up and tugged at the cuff of Ciara's pants.  The little mouse was a wide-eyed stick of grey fur, no older than Ciara had been when she'd first come to Oseille, and just as starved.  She wore a pale green dress and had so many bracelets on both her arms that she could hardly bend them.  There were a number of gold and silver chains around her neck and her ears were heavy with hoops and cheap crystals.  When Ciara looked down at her the mouse started to shake, which made her bangles rattle and chime.  But she didn't look away or let go of Ciara's leg.
“Fine jewelry, miss?” the little mouse said “A vixen as pretty as you, it would be a shame to let your wrists go bare.  And for this fair-day only, I can let you have a second bracelet at half the price of the first.”
Ciara shook her head and politely tried to free herself from the little girl's grasp.  Whoever the girl's parents were, she thought, they ought to be ashamed of themselves.  If she didn't end up robbed it would be a wonder.
“I'd never wear them.  They only get caught on everything, or stepped on by the horses,” she said.
“Or she loses them,” said Niamh “Well, you do,” she added, when Ciara huffed and lowered her ears.
“Just once.  It's not like I made a habit of it, thank you,” said Ciara.
“Only because I made you wear the ring I bought you on the chain of that necklace you wear,” said Niamh.
Ciara's hand flew to her throat, and she breathed out again when her fingers brushed the amethyst pendant.  The chain had broken once, several years ago, and it had only been pure luck that she had found it again.
“Well then, why don't you buy your lady something, instead?” said the mouse, undeterred,  “A braid of gold would be the perfect thing to go with such fine brown fur.  Or maybe some earrings instead?”
“I'll buy something,” said Niamh.
She dug in her pockets for her wallet until Ciara clucked her tongue to make Embarr skip sideways.  Niamh grabbed hold of her in fright, and then growled in her ear.
“That was mean,” she said.
“It's your birthday and I'm not going to have you spend one penny today.  Pick which one you like and I'll buy it for you,” said Ciara.
Niamh squeezed her again, this time to kiss her on the back of the neck.  Then she jumped down to admire the mouse's collection of bangles.  She eventually settled on a pair of silver earrings that were probably the only things of real value the child had.  They cost forty dollars, which Ciara paid with a smile, but only for Niamh, and the mouse girl gave them both a solemn curtsey.
“Good day, and I hope you enjoy the fair,” she said “Only, be cautious if you go near the Red Wolf.  There someone there, they say, all the way from Blackpool.  They say that Lady Saoirse herself is coming all the way into town to see them.”
Niamh's ears went back in a gesture she had unknowingly copied from Ciara and she glanced out over Embarr's back at the milling crowd.
“Grandmother's coming here for a cat?  I think that maybe I'd better go back home,” said Niamh.
“Lunch first.  I've already got reservations and I can't get the money back.  If we get a booth she might not even see you,” said Ciara.
“She'll know anyway.  She always does,” she said.
“She'll blame it on me, you know that.  Come on, I'm hungry and I'd like to get a look at our visitor, too.  I've never seen a lynx up close.”
Niamh looked doubtful, but she hooked her new silver beads into her ears and climbed back up onto Embarr's back.
The crowd thinned out as they got further into town.  There were plenty of shops in Oseille proper, but they had less flash and glamor.  Inside it was all bolts of cloth or sacks of grain instead of the gauzy things by the front gate.  You could find plenty of gold, silver, or even diamonds, though none that was fit to wear.  The quiet was a relief for all of them and Ciara loosened her grip on Embarr's mane.  Oseille might feel more like home when it was filled with people, but these days she appreciated it more at arm's length.  She'd lived among rabbits for so long that the way they thought was rubbing off on her.
	They stopped in front of a neat, two-story tavern with red brick walls.  It was one of only three buildings in town that weren't half underground, and it had more windows than any of them.  The sign over the doors was painted with a stylised wolf’s head, which Killian had always claimed was his family crest.  He hadn't intended to call his tavern the Red Wolf, but the original name had been painted over a year after it had opened, and after that the new name had stuck.
	“I thought Killian hated you,” said Niamh.
	“He hates everyone,” said Ciara.
	It was such a directionless, universal loathing that Ciara found it impossible to take it seriously.  Killian knew what people expected of him and that they would be disappointed if they didn't get it.  He tended to snarl louder at her than he did at any of the rabbits who came in, but Ciara suspected it was part of the game.  The rabbits would squeak when he growled but she just smiled at him.
	Ciara slid to the ground and reached up to help Niamh down.  Niamh hesitated and looked back up the road, trying to spot her grandmother.  They both knew that Saoirse wouldn't let herself be seen until she was ready.  When she wanted, the old doe could be as stealthy as any fox.
	“We'll get him to put us all the way in the back.  Unless it's going to worry you too much to eat?” said Ciara.
	“No, I'm fine.  But even when she was still on the Council I wouldn't have thought she'd come in just for a cat.  I don't like the way this smells.”
	Niamh grabbed Ciara's wrist with both hands, shut her eyes and jumped.  She landed a little awkwardly and stumbled a step forward when her bad leg nearly gave out.  Ciara managed to get her free arm around Niamh's waist in time to keep her up but the rabbit's weight pushed her back until her shoulders slammed against the wall of the tavern.  This left them both a little bit stunned, and stuck in an awkward position, though it wasn't one that Ciara particularly minded.  She could feel Niamh trembling, though, and she froze when she heard the hitch in Niamh's breathing.  Niamh was still quite sensitive about her leg, especially in public and Ciara wasn't much good at comfort.  Her mother had believed that it was better to let people ride things out for themselves and the idea that not everyone could was still somewhat new to her.  But, instead of the tears she was dreading, Niamh started to laugh.
	“I guess that's the last time I get to tease you about your dancing,” she said
	“It was a good start.  I'll turn you into a fox yet,” said Ciara.
	“I think I'm a little too bright for that.  But you might make an okay rabbit, with a little work,” said Niamh.
	The inside of the Red Wolf was dingier than the advertising outside suggested.  The walls were covered with good oak boards, but most of the polish had been rubbed off  and people had amused themselves by carving their names over all of the tables.  The tables were well made but splintery with use and the windows needed to be washed.    Along opposite sides of the large room were a few semi-private booths with high walls, where his regular customers often sat.  The rest of the regular tables were arranged in two sloppy semi-circles at either end of the common room.  There were a few more hidden away in a little room behind the bar, which were popular with young lovers and people engaged in a more private sort of business.  It was already a little past noon, and Ciara had expected the place to be full.  But, today, everyone had apparently decided to make do with lunch on the street.
	“It's a relief to get in out of the sun, anyway,” she said, and she gave Niamh's hand a squeeze.
	“I don't know about that.  Let's see if we can get out of here in one piece, and then I'll tell you,” said Niamh.
In the middle of the room were three long tables, which Killian never rented to groups of less than ten.  Sitting by herself at one of the tables was a small lynx who was watching them over the top of a pair of steel-rimmed glasses, the way Ciara's teachers had done back home.  The cat's feet were propped up on the table and she was picking at the tips of her claws with a long knife.  She was wearing a long blue coat in spite of the heat, with a black shirt underneath and a pair of black trousers with braid around the cuffs.  There was a captain's badge sewn on the shoulder of her jacket, which looked brand new, and a sword on her hip.  Her expression was one of curiosity tinged with threat, though Ciara recognized defensive posturing when she saw it.
“We can still go,” she said.
“No,” said Niamh, and there was a hint of anger in her tone “Killian's one thing, but I'm not going to let some stranger scare me in my own town.”
	When Ciara closed the door Killian came out of the lover's nook with a bread knife in his hands.  He was little, even for a red wolf, and at fifty years old he couldn't move very fast anymore.  But his reputation was such that he could quiet a room full of people with a growl.  He’d thrown a cougar across the room last year, after the cat had taken a swing at him, and it had taken six people to get them apart.  He lowered the knife when Ciara smiled at him, and frowned in return.
	“Ah, the last people in the world I want to see.  Come over this way, girls,” he said.
	He led them over to a booth in the corner furthest away from the lynx, and pushed them into their seats.
	“The lynx is a soldier from Blackpool,” he said  “She claims her name’s Alana.  She hasn’t done anything yet, but I don’t trust her.  Don’t talk to her, or even look at her,” he added, when Ciara opened her mouth to protest.
	“She doesn’t look that bad.  I’ll ask her to leave for you, if you’re afraid to,” she said.
	“Stay put, damn it.  You always do more harm that good.”
	“Since when?  I'm not the one who threw somebody through your fancy plate-glass window.”
	“It wouldn't have happened at all, if you hadn't opened your damned mouth.”
	“If he had kept his shut, there wouldn't have been a problem.  Niamh didn't deserve any of those names and I'm not going to put up with that sort of thing.”
	“Just promise me you'll behave today.  Please?  Nobody has been killed here since the day I opened, but if she works out where you're from there's no telling what she might do,” he said.
	He brought them each a glass of cold, sweet tea, which was practically all that Ciara would drink, and a basket of hot bread.  They lingered over the menus while he stood nearby and watched the cat, who ignored them.
	“I'm not frightened of her.  I'm not ashamed of where I'm from, either.  It took them twelve years to beat us, and I heard they got the city rebuilt in a year and a half,” said Ciara.
	“Two years.  And they still haven't finished the repairs on the castle,” said Killian.
	“That's just details,” she said.
	“Fine.  But now isn't the time to start on round two.  I don't want to have to be the one to tell Lady Saoirse that you've gotten yourself gutted,” he said.
	After he had taken their orders and gone back into hiding , Ciara leaned forward to get a better look at Alana.  While Killian had been distracted with them, she had helped herself to another mug of beer, which Ciara doubted she would be paying for.  Because she actually did feel bad about breaking Killian's window, she slumped down in her seat and chewed on a claw to keep herself calm.  But it was difficult, to the point of being painful, not to jump up and slap the mug out of Alana's hands.
	“I hate soldiers,” she said.
	“I know.  But not so loudly, okay?” said Niamh.
	The tavern doors slammed open, and Niamh pressed herself into one corner of the booth and shut her eyes.  Alana just looked up and smiled while the room filled with rabbits.  Half of them were member of the town council, all rather elderly rabbits who cringed slightly when Alana looked at them, though one or two of them were bold enough to look right back at her.  The rest were curious spectators, because anything that could bring together a special Council meeting had to be worth looking at.  They were mostly rabbits, too, but Ciara spotted the mouse who had sold them the earrings, and there were a couple of Killian's innumerable cousins lounging at the back.
	In front of all of them was old Lady Saoirse herself.  She was a tall, skinny rabbit who walked with the aid of a cane, though Ciara knew she leaned more heavily on it than she needed to.  Fiachra, Niamh's older half-brother, walked beside her, trying not to look nervous.  He was a big buck and stronger than Ciara was, even after all her years as a farrier.  But he was gentle, and a bit timid, and if Saoirse left him alone, Ciara knew he would be content to stay inside all day with his books.
	When they reached the end of the table where Alana sat Saoirse stopped and stood looking down at her.  The lynx put her mug down on the table but held on to her knife, and now she didn't look so relaxed.  The rest of the rabbits fanned out around them, perching on tables, or leaning against the walls to keep a safe distance between themselves and their guest.  Fiachra abandoned his position in the shuffle, and leaned against their booth, hiding Niamh from their grandmother's sight.  He didn't look at them directly, but he winked when Ciara caught his eye, and held up a finger to his mouth.
	“It took you long enough to decide to come see me.  Have you made up your mind?” said Alana.
	Saoirse shoved Alana's feet off of the table with the end of her staff, and she waited until the lynx was sitting up straight before she spoke.
	“Get out of my city,” she said.
	“Not a smart answer.  You’ll have to deal with one of us,” said Alana.
	“I don't want anything to do with either of you.  Oseille has always been neutral, and I’m not going to change that now.”
	“Even if it means you'll be destroyed?” said Alana.
	Ciara saw Saoirse's hands tighten around her staff until her arms trembled with the effort and there was an uneasy stirred around the room.
	“We won't be like you.  Nothing is worth that,” said Saoirse.
	“A hundred years ago, even fifty, this point of view might have made sense.  But if you don't join us, then Cearnach will come and take you over by force.  You know that,” said Alana.
	“That's a goddamned lie.  My father would never do anything like that,” said Ciara.
	She'd made it to her feet and halfway across the room before her brain had caught up to her, and she'd only stopped because both Niamh and Fiachra were hanging on her arms.  Everyone in the room turned to look at her, and the part of her that had lived quietly in the town for nine years wanted to cram her words back into her mouth.  But nothing on earth could have stopped them now.
	“I already lost everything once, becauase of you.  Well, that isn't going to happen again, and you're certainly not going to do it with a nasty lie like that,” she said.
	“Ah, there you are, Miss Lohan.  I didn't think you'd be able to resist getting in the middle of this.  But I can handle this by myself.  So if you don't shut up, I'll have Fiachra drag you home and lock you inside,” said Saoirse.
	“Then that's what you'll have to do.  I'm not going to sit here and listen to her lies,” she said.
	Fiachra lifted her off of her feet and dragged her back to the booth, where Niamh helped him stuff her down onto one seat.  They sat on either side of her, with Fiachra on the outside, and Niamh holding her close, petting her.  Alana turned back to look at Saoirse, and Ciara thought she stifled a smirk with the last inch of beer in her mug.
	“Kids, huh?  No manners at all these days,” said Alana.
	Whatever Saoirse said in return was drowned out by the rush of blood in Ciara's ears, and the anger growing in her chest.
	“I don't disagree with her.  I don't want to listen to you, either.  And while I don't like Cearnach, he hasn't done anything to make me think he would invade,” said Saorise.
	“Of course not.  He's a fox.  They aren't particularly known for being straightforward, are they?” said Alana.
	“Neither are cats.  You have an hour to get out of my city,” said Saoirse.
	“Sabia will be disappointed.  She  thought you might cooperate, and help keep the war from getting out of hand.  She doesn’t want any more lives to be lost than can be helped,” said Alana.
	The captain tossed a few coins on the table to pay for her beer and walked out with her stubby tail held high.  Saoirse and the rest of the rabbits followed after her, with the same mix of suspicion and curiosity they had come in with.  Only Fiachra stayed behind, and once the tavern was empty, he rounded on them and grabbed Niamh's arm, which was the only part of her he could reach.
	“You snuck off again.  I've asked you and asked you--,” he said.
	“I don’t need you looking over my shoulder all the time.  Besides, it was important,” said Niamh.  
	She jerked her arm out of Fiachra’s grasp and Ciara pulled it in tighter around her waist.
	“I was worried about you.  Who's to say that lynx didn't have friends waiting outside?  I just wanted to keep you safe,” he said.
	“That's the same excuse you've used all of my life.  Where I go and what I do is none of your business, or Saoirse’s either,” said Niamh.
	“She’s old enough to make her own decisions, isn’t she?  And there's nothing you can do for her that I can't,” said Ciara.
	“Like just now, when your mouth could have gotten us all into trouble?  Niamh, I need a word with you.  Alone,” he said.
	Niamh tightened her grip and, for a moment, Ciara thought that she was going to refuse.  But Niamh had never learned to stand up to hersel, when it came to her family, and she eventually pulled herself free and went over to where Fiachra was waiting.  He took her by the shoulders and pulled her across to the other side of the room.  When he spoke again he kept his voice so low Ciara could barely hear him.  But if she tilted her ears just right, and concentrated, she could still make out every word.
	“I know you think she’s your friend, but you shouldn't get too close to Ciara.  I know she means well, but she’s a fox.  She's been tamed, and she might love you, but she's dangerous,” he said.
	“Why?  Because she has a quick temper?  That doesn't make her dangerous, just... passionate,” said Niamh.
	“She's a sweet girl, but she can't help being what she is,” said Fiachra.
	“Neither can you, but nobody blames you for being a stupid rabbit jumping at shadows,” said Niamh.
	Ears burning, Ciara curled up around herself and chewed restlessly on a ragged claw.  She had lived in Oseille for nine years and she knew many of the people who lived there by sight.  She’d learned farriery from Saoirse, and she took care of every horse the old rabbit owned, when she wasn't busy with her normal clients.  Even after all that, no one trusted her.  Foxes and rabbits had lived together peacefully for three hundred years, but so many people still clung to their ancient prejudices that it was hard to tell sometimes.
	“Cearnach and Blackpool are fighting again, and it looks like they’re determined to bring us into the fight this time, whether we like it or not.  Your little girlfriend is from Cearnach.  You need to think about that, and about what loyalties she might have that we don’t know about,” said Fiachra.  
	They both glanced over at her, and she saw Niamh shake her head.  But there was a moment of hesitation before she did that cut Ciara to the heart.
	“She’s my friend.  I love her, and I trust her.  If she has any loyalty to Cearnach, how does that hurt us?  We’ve always had peace with them,” she said.
	“You won’t say that if we wind up fighting them.”
	“There isn’t going to be any fighting,” said Ciara.  
	They both started at the sound of her voice, and Niamh, at least, looked genuinely ashamed of herself.  Ciara got up and walked over to stand between them, keeping her back turned slightly towards Fiachra.
	“I love my father.  I can't help that, even if he doesn't deserve it.  But this is my home, not Cearnach,” she said.
	“So you say, but all we have is your word.  What good is that?” said Fiachra.
	“I don't know.  Words are all I have to give you.  But if that isn't enough, how about a promise to stop the war before it starts?”
	“Really?  How are you going to do that?”
	“I’m going to Cearnach, to talk to Connor.  He’ll listen to me.  He owes me that, at least.”
	“Why should he listen to you?”
	Niamh put a hand on her arm, and Ciara could feel her trembling.
	“You’re going to Cearnach?” she said.
	“You’d better think a little harder about that.  You don’t want to go anywhere nearer the City of Foxes than you can help,” said Killian.
	He had slipped out of his hiding place sometime while they were arguing and now he was standing next to her with Alana's beer mug in his hands.
	“You heard what the cat said.  If I don’t go, we’ll wind up being in the middle of another stupid war, and this time they aren’t going to let us stay out of it.  I might not have been born here but I’ve gotten fond of this place, and I don’t want to see it get destroyed,” she said, and she grinned at Niamh.  “Still want to see Cearnach?  It looks like this might be your chance to go.”
	Fiachra yelped and tried to jump in front of his sister, but only succeeded in shoving her back against a table, and knocking the mug out of Killian's grip.
	“Don’t you goddamn dare.  I don’t care if you want to go, but you have no right to drag Niamh along with you.  What makes you think anyone is going to listen to you?” said Fiachra.
	“I told you, Connor will listen because he owes me.  I’m his daughter and he has missed a few birthdays here and there.  Well, all of them, really.  And you don’t have any right to make someone else’s choices for them,” she said.
	“I’m going with you,” said Niamh, and she grabbed Ciara’s hand tightly, as if Fiachra might try to drag her away.  “No arguments, not from any of you.”
	Nobody did, though Fiachra folded his arms and sulked for a while, before slinking out of the tavern when he though their backs were turned.  Killian brought them lunch and they ate quickly.  As soon as Saoirse forgot about the lynx she would come looking for Niamh, and neither of them were in the mood for a second confrontation so soon.  When they were finished with lunch, Ciara put a few coins on the table to pay for the meal, and held out her hand to Niamh.
	“Come on, bunny, let’s take you home,” she said.