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While shorter than the first few episodes, at around 60k words it's still a novel.\n\nThe king is dead, of natural causes, but that doesn't mean it's not a time of strife. Time has jumped another nine-or-so years since episode 3, Elaria full-grown and a mother, and her siblings in their mid-teens. This is a tale of diplomacy and its related shenanigans, as the death of Burtak IV could mean war... unless a former slave and her team can prevent it.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Suggested donation $2 if you think it's worth it.  While shorter than the first few episodes, at around 60k words it's still a novel.

The king is dead, of natural causes, but that doesn't mean it's not a time of strife.  Time has jumped another nine-or-so years since episode 3, Elaria full-grown and a mother, and her siblings in their mid-teens.  This is a tale of diplomacy and its related shenanigans, as the death of Burtak IV could mean war... unless a former slave and her team can prevent it.", "writing": "Fantasie Eviscerotique\n\nEpisode 4\n\nby\n\nAdrian VanWormer (Kathalla at FA and IB)\n\nPrologue\n\n\tThe countess nodded to the young badger who was still putting the finishing touches on her oversized sleeproll, “That looks comfortable enough, Mavlan. You needn’t aim for perfection in a bed I’ll only be using for one night, no matter what you said about redressing the balance between a chore that helps a whole temple and the many smaller tasks of seeing to my comfort. I’ve been making this trip for eight years in a row, and you’re the closest to a ‘servant’ I’ve ever brought along. I’m not so decrepit yet that I can’t set up my own camp!”\n\n\tThe slimly-stocky lad shrugged, smiling faintly despite the mild reprimand, “I promised my grand-uncle I’d work as hard here as I do at our Lady’s shrine... and I intend to keep that promise, though having you as a traveling companion makes that difficult. You can afford too many travel conveniences, and who you are very much eases our way when we’re in a town. I have to actively look for things to do to keep my word, milady, and my word is even more important to me than lawful obedience to the wishes of an earldom’s heiress.”\n\n\tElaria sighed, smiling some herself, “Duty and adherence to one’s word are all well and good... but, please, try to consider reality a bit more when giving that word! We’re traveling. That, by definition, means there won’t ever be quite as much time for chores, lessons, or practice than when settled comfortably in the middle of a major city. Speaking of practice, though, try to sleep lightly toward morning... I want you up as soon as the sky starts getting light, to set out our light-crystals, build up the fire to cook breakfast, then wake me to spar before it’s quite dawn. You’re finally starting to show the potential Brettan guessed at, and we can keep working on that while still getting an early start.” She glanced to one side, then, and her smile spread into a grin, “Still... keep ‘holding to your word’ anyway, as it seems to be setting a very good example for my son.”\n\n\tBlinking, Mavlan turned the way she’d glanced, then barked a laugh as he watched the foxcub spread a sleeping pad over a lumpy-looking collection of small pine boughs... sideways. “It’s nice to see you want to help, Rellan... Here, let me show you how to do it right; you’ve got the basics down, but there’s more to making a comfortable bed than just piling up types of padding. Watch now, you do it like this...”\n\n\tRonnel stepped over from where he’d been seeing to the horses’ comfort and slipped an arm around his wife’s waist, then nuzzled her ear before murmuring, “It’s never too early to instill the notion of doing things well in a child... well, almost. I suppose this really is the first year that he’s been big enough to help out.”\n\n\t“The difference between ages four and five can be significant, yes,” the vixen agreed, then gave another toothy grin. “Want to check our friend’s work for lumps while he’s getting them out of his own bed?”\n\n\tThis earned a chuckle with just a hint of lust echoing in its depths, before all four faces looked up curiously at a call from the road, “Hello, the camp!”\n\n\tA few glances were shared among the travelers, then Elaria, as putative leader of the group even if they were traveling anything but formally, called back, “If you come in peace, stranger, enter freely and share our fire. If not, you’d best find another group of travelers or a camp of your own, as a blade dancer is a rather poor choice to practice banditry upon.” The cadence of her words took on a more rhythmic quality toward the end, as she mentally prepared herself for her special form of combat, should it prove needed.\n\n\tLeaves crunched and twigs snapped as a single horse drew nearer at a slow walk, and both adults in the party relaxed as the firelight glinted on the silver trim of a dark purple uniform. That uniform’s owner had a chuckle in his voice as he replied, “The courier service would take things... badly if I started molesting random citizens on the road. Hmm... blade dancer?” He peered through the sparse intervening branches as he neared, then brightened, “Countess Gatuque! I consider it fortuitous that it’s your camp I found. I carry dire news to Earl Wheathaven and your own father, and any other noble I meet is also entitled to hear.”\n\n\tThe vixen’s eyes narrowed as she finally got a good look at the mounted panther, spotting the black satin band around his right bicep, and she blinked away tears at the sudden stab of loss within... Turning back to her family and companion, she murmured, “I only met him a few times... but Burtak was a good king. Only for him, though, would his officials wear mourning black...” She glanced back to the courier, “What happened?”\n\n\tThe liveried young man nodded at her surmise, “Yes, the king is dead... He was planning to retire in just a couple more years when he turned seventy, but he still liked his little entertainments. His heart gave out while he was sandwiched between a couple of amorous slavegirls; they called the guards instantly, and there was a healer only a few rooms away, but... there was nothing to do. It was very quick, and while painful he probably didn’t suffer much, but Burtak IV is with Kathalla now. Every ruling lord and any of their family who wish to attend are commanded to Fariach, first for the funeral and then to witness the coronation of King Lachier II and to swear fealty to him.”\n\n\tRonnel blinked, then shook himself... Even after nearly nine years as her husband, the former serf was still occasionally surprised by the details of his wife’s rank. As a farmer, and only marginally separated from outright slavery, he’d never much cared who sat on any kingdom’s throne. Which ordinary citizen owned his particular plot of land and those bound to it had much more of an impact on his early life, and occasionally some act or decree of the local baron might have meant something to him... but that was before he’d won the heart of a countess. “Your brother’s birthday... eclipsed, will be,” he finally mused, his years of practice in Drachath’s dialect momentarily forgotten in the wake of this news.\n\n\tElaria nodded grimly, “Indeed... but I doubt he’ll complain of boredom as a result. This is actually quite convenient timing, all told, as we’ll be able to manage the transition from my being proxy countess to his being proxy earl directly with Lachier, once things have calmed down from the funeral and coronation.”\n\n\tRonnel smiled as he mused, “You’ll still be my strong princess, in any case, and you’ll have one less job to do. The prospect of more free time to spend in your company... is something I can only look forward to.”\n\n\tThe vixen’s teeth flashed in the light of the campfire as she grinned, “Well, maybe not only my company... I know you don’t give much thought to your Roxanite novitiate, but it exists, and you could very well become Her acolyte if we get that much more time to practice.”\n\n\tHer husband blinked, then shrugged, “Becoming a junior priest of Malia, back when Rellan was still in diapers, was a satisfying cap to my ecclesiastic career. Do I really need any more rank?”\n\n\tThe princess shrugged back with a faint smile, “It couldn’t hurt... With Gerial taking over my job in the city, we’ll need to decide just what to do with the next part of our lives, and where. Whatever choice we make, rank is just one more resource, and the principle of maximizing that sort of thing when faced with an uncertain future is only the course of wisdom.” She turned back to the courier with a gesture toward Mavlan, “You’re welcome to join us tonight. We’ll be rising before dawn for some of the training I promised this young fellow’s family, and I’ll be picking up our rather leisurely pace afterward, but I’ll understand if you gallop on ahead; the funeral is, almost certainly, scheduled with the optimum speed of yourself and your brothers in service kept in mind, and we’re at very nearly the farthest reaches of that service. Time is... understandably tight, I know.”\n\n\t“Momma? Do we need another bed fer th’kitty guy?” her son asked in his piping voice.\n\n\tEla smiled fondly as she shook her head, “No... the couriers have good equipment that’s very fast to set out. You just finish helping Mavlan get the lumps out of his, then you can cuddle up with us.” She started untying the laces of her sturdy traveling clothes as she padded toward her bedroll, musing in the panther’s direction, “It’s my hope that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable... but, as you probably know since you recognized one of my titles, Ronnel and I both hold Roxanite rank... and we’re foxes. Even with our son in the same bed, we’re going to share at least a little love before sleep, tonight.”\n\n\tThe courier blinked once, then grinned a bit foolishly as she peeled her blouse off, his eyes fixed on the sizable breasts that were bobbing as they half-fell from the cloth’s grip, “You won’t hear any complaints from me, milady... and, unless you or your husband object, I think I can get quite a few free drinks from my tavern buddies on the way back from this trip, for describing the rather lovely, and exquisitely vixenish, countess I had the privilege of seeing naked along the way.”\n\n\tThe vixen in question blinked once, then laughed and reached for her breeches’ ties, “Oh, I don’t mind that in the slightest... Hell, wait a moment in the morning and I’ll even give you evidence to support your story. I’ve got a few extra handkerchiefs and scarves I can spare, and I’ll happily give you one for a souvenir, well-impregnated by my most intimate, personal scents. You royal messenger types work hard, and you deserve a bit of fun and the occasional entertaining story for your efforts.”\n\n\tRonnel sat on the edge of the bedroll to work his own boots off, shaking his head with a grin, “I have no problem with that... My wife’s body and scent are her own, to share with whom she wishes; only her heart is mine to claim.”\n\n\tFinally bothering to dismount, the courier picked a tree with plenty of low-hanging branches and led his horse toward it, stealing a glance back just in time to watch the princess, tail high and facing away from him, bend down to pull down her pants, the firelight glinting temptingly on fur-shadowed hints of pink flesh, obviously already moist with anticipation. “Mmm... vixen,” he mumbled to himself after a sniff at the air, then reached for his gear to settle in for this rather unusual night.\n\nChapter 1\n\n\t“Why are we still here, Momma? This place was neat at first, but I been bored for days!”\n\n\tElaria smiled mentally at the irony as her son reminded her, yet again, of the breadth of the gap between his language skills and the way she’d talked at the same age... but kept her outer expression attentive as she answered him, “I know you’re bored... Other than when the minstrels are playing, I am too, enough to envy Mavlan for getting to continue onwards to train with Julara instead of me. I almost wish I’d brought my cello along; joining them would be at least a bit of fun we could have... but we need to wait here. All the earls and barons and counts are coming, and some of them have farther to go than others. When they’re all here, though, we’ll go to the palace basement and step through a magical gate, and we’ll suddenly be halfway across the kingdom! One more, and we’ll be at the other end entirely, and you’ll get to see the king’s palace, which is even ‘neater’ than the duke’s!”\n\n\tRellan nodded solemnly, “Grampa’s an earl... is he coming? If he is, why couldn’t we wait with him? I wanted to see Unca Gerial’s birthday party...”\n\n\t“Everyone should be here within another day or two,” the countess assured him, one hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder, “including Ferrl and Gerial. Your uncle’s birthday is today, actually... Life isn’t always fair, and this is one of those times; even once he’s here, we’ll be too busy to celebrate right away, but I’m sure we can have a party a little late, once things calm down.” She looked up at the sound of the guest suite’s door opening, and the fond smile she’d had for her son returned as her husband entered, just as loving but with a hint of lust flickering deep in her eyes.\n\n\tThe darker fox arched one brow as he took in his family’s pose, “Rellan’s tail had been a bit low since this morning... I take it he’s admitted to the boredom he’d been trying to hide?” His son flushed, eliciting a gentle chuckle from both parents as Ela nodded. Crossing the room to join them, Ronnel knelt down and reached into a large belt pouch, “You’ve been very good about not complaining, son... but I know how hard waiting can be, when there’s almost nothing to do, so I decided to do something about it,” and he extracted a slim black case about eight inches long. “You’ve always seemed to like music, and I’ve seen the way you watch us when your mother and I are the ones playing... so I got you this,” and he opened it to reveal, resting in the formed depressions of red velvet within, the two halves of a piccolo.\n\n\tHis wife’s eyes widened for just a moment, “So that’s why you asked for the gold stash... That looks like a fine instrument, and it’s certainly the right size for his hands!”\n\n\tRellan reached out with one careful hand, running his fingertips over the finely-wrought buttons and valves, “Ooh... thank you, Daddy! You’re right, I’ve wanted to make music too, but Momma’s cello’s just so big!”\n\n\tClosing the case again, the fox handed it to his son then stood, musing affectionately, “I’m glad you like it... It won’t be easy to learn, and you’ll need to practice a lot, but the flute player in the duke’s orchestra has already agreed to teach you the basics. He’s waiting for us now; supper’s in just a couple more hours, but that’s long enough, since your lips will get tired quickly until you’ve had some of that practice I was talking about.”\n\n\t“You two have fun,” Elaria told them, “and I’ll just work on a little writing ‘til dinner. And, Ronnel dear?” She waited for him to look up, then smiled broadly, “I’d like to congratulate you... That piccolo’s no tin whistle, and I know it can’t have been cheap... but it was worth it. You’ve occasionally had a few qualms about spending money, quite understandable with your humble beginnings, but I’m glad you were able to overcome them for our son’s sake.”\n\n\tHer husband’s ears dipped slightly, but he was smiling as he nodded back, “Fancy instruments are, by any measure, a luxury... but they repay us in joy, which none can put a price on. I’ll see you at the meal, love.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe notes of the piccolo were clear and sweet... for a certain percentage of ‘clear,’ and with a parent’s view of ‘sweet,’ despite the slow, careful fingering as Rellan worked his way up a basic eight-note scale, managing to reach the high note with only two serious fumblings with the valves. His parents shared a glance, wordlessly agreeing that he really wasn’t all that bad for this only being his second practice session, but they were, for their own ears’ sakes, looking forward to him getting significantly better. The young fox lowered his instrument and grimaced, his lips working as he tried to confirm that they were still attached, and his normal voice was just a bit mushy-sounding as he commented, “Numb.”\n\n\tRonnel nodded, hopefully not too quickly, “Then that’s enough for this morning... I’m sure none of us wants a repeat of the slight sloppiness at last night’s dinner, so let’s just give your mouth a chance to recover before lunch, shall we? How about some more usual lessons, instead...”\n\n\tHis wife and son both nodded back, Ela commenting, “That’s a good plan. In fact, rather than reading along with me out loud, why don’t I just read to you while your eyes follow along? That way we—” She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and reflexively touched the dagger tucked into the back of her dress’ sash before rising to answer it. She had no genuine fear of attack in the middle of a duke’s palace, but there were too many noble guests at the moment to provide official guards for all of them, and she had, two or three times, been all but ambushed by those seeking to learn just how good a blade dancer could be. None had survived to appreciate the lesson.\n\n\tHer foot well braced and her knee poised to block a suddenly-bashed-in door, she opened it just enough to peek out of, then flung it wide with a happy squeal, “Daddy!” The figure on the other side of the doorway was almost too wide to pass through it without turning but, even in early middle age, almost none of his bulk was fat.\n\n\t“Grandpa Ferrl!” Rellan chimed in an instant later, scrambling off of the bed. His mother had already leaped up to hug the big wolf’s chest, so the cub contented himself with a hug-assault on a convenient pair of knees once he’d nosed his way past the bottom hem of her skirt.\n\n\tFor his part, Ronnel just shared a smile and a nod through the air over his wife’s shoulder, beckoning for the rest of his extended family to enter once the more enthusiastic greetings had died down. Once the earl, his wife, and his three natural children were seated around the room, the fox mused, “Your group is among the last expected to arrive... Have you heard of any others we’re still waiting on, or anything about when they plan to have us move?”\n\n\tFerrl nodded solemnly, though his expression’s seriousness suffered a wince at the shrill tweet his youngest son managed to produce while examining his grandchild’s new instrument. Lirdon may have been the fox’s technical uncle, but he was still only three years older and no more expert than the cub at music. “We’re not quite the last,” he finally answered, “but there’s only one more count’s party to wait on, and they’re expected within the next hour or two, which means we at least have time for lunch. The mages are still balancing power pools against demand, so they can’t say whether we’ll be routed through Gatuque or Northlook, nor the exact moment of our departure as they’ll probably send us through on the very heels of another group so the Fariach gate only has to be opened once. Still, I’ve been told to be prepared to leave in the early to mid afternoon.”\n\n\tElaria smiled, tilting her head toward the youngsters who were still chattering away at what passed for news among the very young, “That’s good, as your grandcub’s been nearing the limits of our ability to keep him distracted and reasonably happy. Or, he was until Ronnel bought that piccolo, but it’s too early to say just how long that could have held him...” She turned to face her brother, “He really wanted to attend your party, Ger. Anyway... happy birthday, even if we’ve known for years just what I’d be giving you for a ‘present.’”\n\n\tThe teenaged wolf shrugged, “Your job... or one of them, and probably the most boring of the lot in your book. Still... I’m looking forward to it. I actually enjoyed my visit last winter, sitting in on the petitions, and discussing our options even though the final decision was yours. It made me feel... involved, like I was doing something to help the people our family effectively rules.”\n\n\tPria spoke up beside him, “That trip was fun for me, too... though in a completely different way, and I’m pretty sure I still can’t tell you just what I was up to with that mouse.”\n\n\tThe earl chuckled, “No, I suppose you can’t... but Ela and I have both figured it out, and we approve. Diral may be getting a bit long in the tooth to be running around at night like you were, but he’s still one of the best in the business. If you do well enough at the sort of things he’s getting too old for, a few years from now Lachier just might offer you his job, and I don’t think any of us would consider that a bad thing.”\n\n\t“Speak for yourself,” Danara grumbled, “as you and our daughters seem to consider it some sort of state secret just what his job is.”\n\n\tHer husband nodded, acknowledging her point, but also, from his expression, considering something... He cast one glance at the cubs, the only ones in the room who he considered likely to repeat random comments to the wrong ears, but they were both distracted with comparing the small knives they owned. Looking back to his family, Ferrl kept his voice fairly low as he mused, “In a way, his job is a secret of sorts... as mine was, when I had the same one.” Comprehension immediately dawned in his bitch’s eyes, and it only took Ronnel and Gerial another moment each to make the connection, and he slapped his thighs to punctuate a change of subject, “Anyway... it’s just about time to eat, and then we’re off to Fariach! Lirdon, Rellan! Put those away and get washed up, and we’ll head down to the dining room. The usual courtiers probably won’t be there, just the nearby barons and their families, but we’re second only to the Duke and Earl of Rajai in rank, so we’d better be on the guest list!”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe ‘gate’ took the form of a broad arch set against a wall, both common stone, and a pair of tapered, polished obelisks of black basalt, sunk into the floor to either side. Flanking those were several medium-large alcoves holding guards, with narrow entrances, walls that could be used for cover, and long racks of loaded crossbows that could be grabbed at need. This, the wizardly earl explained to his family as they joined the milling crowd of nobles that was gathering, was because the magical structures involved were attuned to the other gates in the kingdom most naturally, but could, with enough effort, be linked to a hostile gate as well. It would be expensive in terms of magical power, but less expensive by far than creating a new gate from scratch to emerge at an arbitrary point. Each gate, however, had its own magical signature that could not be duplicated, and the on-duty wizard would know whether or not a forming connection was one they were familiar with, well before it actually opened, giving them time to warn the soldiers to take action.\n\n\tThose soldiers, today, were much more concerned with keeping order than defending from a sudden attack, though. They picked up dropped toys to hand back to children, kept curious teens out of their weapon stockpiles, and generally tried to keep the peace as impatient nobles asked yet again when they’d be moving, despite the constraints having been explained to them already. Several times.\n\n\tFinally, the robed court wizard raised his hand, and the various murmurs of conversation faded. “They’re just about ready in Northlook,” he called. “Please do not rush, but don’t dawdle either. You’ll come out in a chamber much like this one, but you’ll see another open gate, and we ask that you proceed immediately through that one as well. We hope to get all of you through both of them within two minutes of this one opening, but the other one will have been open for longer already, getting Northlook’s lesser nobles through to Fariach, and we have only so much stored power to work with. We can promise you two minutes, but probably not three, and anyone who dallies overlong will probably be stuck in the eastern duchy until they can buy a horse. For that reason, families who wish to remain together are instructed to hold hands, or to carry anyone under the age of ten. The gate-crossing will be... mildly disorienting to most, and moreso to anyone prone to motion sickness, but the effect will fade quickly once you’re through.”\n\n\tOf those who had previous experience with gates, a few were nodding but most looked impatient to be on their way. The other two thirds of the assembled nobles, however, were divided between paying close attention and looking worried, even frightened. Mothers hugged their children tighter, and lovers’ hands sought each other out to squeeze comfortingly. Ferrl’s party was among the first in line near the arch, more from the way they’d already kept their cubs under control and their general disinclination to bother the busy guards than from their rank. “Inner eyes closed, dear,” he commented as he spotted his younger daughter peering intently at the gate. She grimaced at him, and he shook his head, “I’m serious. Even the wizard opening the thing will be working ‘blind;’ there’ll be far too much magic flying around to safely look at it, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”\n\n\t“Alright,” Pria agreed, “but you owe me a better explanation of how these things work, especially if what you say is true and the wizard in charge can’t even watch his own weave forming.” Her eyes widened at a flare few of the others could see, and she quickly damped down her arcane perceptions, as the pulse of power flowing from the two obelisks into the archway was clearly everything her father had described, and already building sharply in strength.\n\n\tMost of the rest of the crowd, naturally enough, had no idea anything was happening until their view of the stone on the far side of the arch vanished, replaced by a matte blackness, which held steady for a few seconds before brightening into the view of a similar room with different guards. “Alright everyone,” the senior lieutenant in charge of the assembled guards called, “start moving! If anyone stumbles, one of the helpful soldiers in Northlook will pick them up; just concentrate on moving your own two feet!”\n\n\tAny further instructions or reminders were lost to Ferrl and his family as he led them unflinchingly through the portal, sight and sound replaced with silent darkness for the instant of transition where several hundred miles had been magically abolished, only to return before worry could set in with the Northlook guards urging them to move along to the second gate. The room beyond that one was even bigger, the backsides of the previous batch of nobles visible as they were led away and the nearer walls lined with at least two dozen servants, each holding up a sign with the name of a holding.\n\n\tAfter a brief glance to make sure his family had followed along without mishap, the earl led them toward the figure under the ‘Gatuque’ placard, only to pause and blink at the feline in her mid teens that was holding it, as her leather armor was a far cry from the formal livery everyone else nearby was wearing, even with the sheaths and scabbards tucked into every available strap hanging loose and empty. “You,” he rumbled, “are no servant.”\n\n\tThe girl negligently dropped her sign to one side, boot-heels clicking as she snapped to attention and saluted, “Corporal Serra of the Stonecliff City Guard, at your service, sir! You’re something of a legend in my unit, from long before my time when you blew our captain to bits, and I really wanted to meet you!”\n\n\tFerrl blinked, then shook his head to clear it, “This can’t be a coincidence...” and leaned a little closer, nostrils flaring as he sorted her scent out from the milling crowd... To his family’s surprise, he whooped loudly and grabbed her up in a tight hug, swinging her bodily around.\n\n\tDanara was first to recover, snapping her fingers as she realized, “You’re that Serra! Verona’s youngest daughter! It’s been years since we’ve gotten a letter about you...”\n\n\tThe young tigon was grinning as she hugged the much larger wolf back, and she nodded over his shoulder, “Momma told me I wouldn’t be able to fool you guys... but it was fun trying! C’mon, you big lug, put me down and I’ll show you all to your guest suite. You’re getting the rooms meant for the Duke of Fariach, built back when that was still a separate title from the king’s, as the prince still considers you among his best and most reliable friends.”\n\n\tStill grinning, the earl nodded as he set her gently down, giving an extra pat to smooth down her skirt with the hand that wasn’t holding a small, sharp dagger... “I’m going to have to talk with whoever succeeded Bakar, as you’d never have snuck this past that ermine when he was in charge.”\n\n\tHer expression serious, Serra nodded, “I’d been planning to reveal that to the new captain myself... Our prince will need the best protection he can get once he’s crowned, as there’s always someone looking to find a new monarch off balance and vulnerable, and even this chaotic mess shouldn’t have been enough for me to sneak a weapon in like I did.” Turning her renewed grin on the rest of the wolves and foxes, she jerked her head toward the far end of the gate hall, almost empty now as the other families had simply followed their servants without any sort of reunion to distract them, “C’mon, I still really do need to get you all settled, then we’ll just see if I can weasel my way out of gaol time for what I just pulled.”\n\n\tThe retired Agent shook his head with a chuckle as he patted her shoulder, “It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to spot, even with a little magic... That strap and sheath I felt were fuzzy, so I can only assume they matched your own fur, and everything was high enough that the hilt’s sticky and probably smells interesting. I’ll just have to remind the captain of your father’s first wife, and that one can’t assume a woman’s innocence, or even show her due respect, when the safety of the kingdom’s on the line.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe red and pink glow in the eastern sky seemed to catch fire as the sun peeked over the horizon. It was a perfect spring morning, a warm, salty breeze blowing in from the sea and only enough clouds visible to contribute to the beautifully-colored sunrise. Audience Square was packed with chairs, pews, and benches, the motley collection gathered from every conceivable source to accommodate the hundreds of nobles, and at least a thousand common citizens stood shoulder to shoulder behind them. The shadow of the palace’s high walls edged lower as the sun crept higher, a single beam of light edged in rainbows after passing through two crystal-paned windows finally falling upon the black-robed form of the high priestess, her arms raised as she chanted a benediction, and the still form of King Burtak IV on the slab before her, dressed in his finest robes but with his crown resting on a cushion to one side.\n\n\tAs the priestess’ blessing concluded, two more forms stepped out of the shadows behind her, the young slavegirls who’d shared their monarch’s final moments padding solemnly forward, each with a small wooden bowl cupped in her hands. Turning to face them, the elderly vulpine asked, “Do you two truly wish to join your old Master in the Fanged One’s heaven?”\n\n\tBoth of the nude teens nodded, the vixen of the pair answering first, “Yes, Mistress. I miss him already, and beg leave to be with him forever.”\n\n\tThe doe opposite her nodded as well, “Please, Mistress. He was the sweetest, kindest man I ever knew, and no matter how busy he got with matters of state, he always found time to play with us. I only wish I could have saved him in the end...”\n\n\tThe priestess nodded, “I can see the truth of your words, mirrored in your souls... and I promise you that Kathalla is waiting in Her realm to welcome you. You may drink.”\n\n\tCareful not to spill any, the two slaves were nonetheless eager as they lifted the bowls to their muzzles, though the deer grimaced at the bitter taste. They’d barely lowered the dishes when their powerful contents took effect, the wood clattering as it fell first from the vulpine’s fingers, and both bodies crumpled to the platform’s stones in near unison. Both girls convulsed where they lay, but the spasms passed quickly, and they were dead and still within twenty seconds of the first sips of poison.\n\n\tTurning back to the silently-watching crowd, the high priestess spoke again, “Thus we seek to give our departed friend some of the love and companionship he knew in life, earned in life. The years the man before you held the throne were well spent, and Drachath prospered!” She had to pause, then, at a spontaneous cheer from the commoners in the back ranks, though several of the nobles took it up as well even as they dabbed at misty eyes with whatever kerchiefs were handy. “From the Northlook Incursion the very year he was crowned,” she continued as those cheering paused for breath, “to the defeat of the Black Gulf Pirates barely a month gone, Burtak IV ruled wisely and well. Many people, including those here today, helped him, but the crucial decisions were always his as king, and it was in his name that each of you made your own contribution to this mighty land we love. His rest is well and truly deserved, and I would like at this time, as a member of his advisory council, to move to enter him into his bloodline’s records as Burtak the Great! It is a scant honor for one departed, but equally the least we can do to acknowledge...”\n\n\tShe had to break off again, since a rising, rhythmic chant had started at the back of the square, and it grew as more voices took it up, drowning out her elegy...\n\n\t“Bur-TAK! Bur-TAK! Bur-TAK!”\n\n\tThe priestess, for all her bias against malekind, could only smile, wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, and join in the chant in full agreement.\n\n\tOn another plane of existence entirely, a much younger-looking raccoon looked on, a broad smile on his muzzle... “I can’t believe it... did I really mean that much to those people?”\n\n\tHis Goddess laid Her black hand on his shoulder as She nodded, “Yes, you did. Your son’s going to have a lot to live up to...”\n\n\t“But I can’t take all the credit!” he insisted. “The Incursion was stopped by my Agents, and that clever captain I had to posthumously promote is the one who lured the pirates to their doom, only to lose his own life in the decisive battle... and what of Kia and Ren? I can’t believe they just willingly died for me!”\n\n\tKathalla chuckled softly, pulling at the shoulder in Her grasp to point out a pair of approaching, nebulous figures to one side, blurred outlines sharpening as they neared into the forms of the two girls in question, “Your subordinates did what they did in your name... and your final lovers obeyed you more out of love than from the detail that you owned them. Don’t second-guess the adulation and adoration that others feel you deserve, for it is theirs alone to give. Also, kindly remember that you’re now dead, and these things are no longer yours to worry about. As I told your father, grandfather, and back along your family’s line from the first Duke of Fariach, you’ll only fret over things you can’t change if you remain focused on the world you’ve left behind. That, in My opinion, is a waste of a perfectly good afterlife, and you have many friends here who’d rather have your attention.”\n\n\tThe approaching slaves paused, blinking, as their transition completed, looking themselves over... Ren, after a glance at her vulpine ‘sister,’ touched her own throat, clearly surprised to feel it without a collar for the first time since her childhood. Kia was looking around, and grabbed the doe’s arm as she pointed excitedly ahead. “Burty!” they cried in unison, and covered the last few spiritual yards at a run.\n\n\tSuddenly smothered in soft fur and round breasts, the former king saw the wisdom in his Goddess’ words, and mumbled an incoherent agreement as he hugged his girls tight. There were, indeed, better things to spend his afterlife upon than worry.\n\nChapter 2\n\n\tFerrl paused in the small buffer-chamber, both doors open, to let the halberd-wielding guard precede him, two more having relieved the usual man at the top of the stairs and a fourth lingering behind the rest of his family. “It’s clear, sir,” his fellow wolf reported, and he nodded as he led the rest of the procession into the playclub. Only a few large candles were lit, this early in the morning, but the helpful soldier was already working on spreading those flames to increase the lighting.\n\n\tGerial was keeping Rellan and Lirdon occupied at the palace, and Danara was out shopping for a few things for her mother, leaving Ferrl, Pria, Elaria, and Ronnel free to attend this meeting with as much secrecy as they could manage. The sheer number of nobles visiting, their families crowding the streets wherever there was entertainment to be found, helped; one more group with guards wasn’t nearly as attention-worthy as it would have been in quieter times. Even as the family settled around one of the large tables, the ‘fourth guard’ set ‘his’ halberd aside, then took a seat as well. That large and muscular form rippled for a moment, seeming to shrink in place, and Serra set the keystone of the illusion down next to the unlit lantern, seeming perfectly at ease while effectively nude save for the straps connecting the crystals that had disguised her on the way here.\n\n\tThe earl glanced over to the real guard, who was double-checking that the playroom and kitchen doors were locked, and rumbled, “I think it’s about time.”\n\n\tThat wolf nodded, “Almost. I’ll send the signal just as soon as I’ve checked the stage, sir.”\n\n\tThis earned a nod in return, and a warning glance toward Pria, who grimaced even as she nodded too, then shut her eyes tightly with a grumbled comment about gates. Unlike the initial blackness of the portals joining the duchies, everyone could see the glowing rectangle near one wall as the signal was sent and received, but it lasted only long enough for a distant guard to glance through and a robed form to cross over at a near-run. Straightening, then, Lachier padded calmly over for the last few steps, and sank into the seat that Ferrl had pulled out for him. “I’m starting to understand why my father left the palace as infrequently as he did,” the ‘coon mused. “The hoops we had to jump through, just to secure a little visit with my friends at a known safe location, would be nothing compared to the hassle if I’d tried to get here through the streets.”\n\n\tSeveral of those friends chuckled in understanding, though Elaria couldn’t help but ask, “Did you bring it?”\n\n\tThe prince’s muzzle quirked in a half-exasperated grin as he pulled a long, narrow iron box from under his robe and set it on the table, “Yes, yes, I’ve got it right here... though I’m still curious as to why you asked my father to set up this account in the first place, and some of the donations have come from the damnedest sources. My sister literally fainted when we opened a diplomatic pouch from the Herd Chieftain of the Vale and diamonds poured out!”\n\n\tThe vixen grinned as she took charge of the box, “Then it worked... My thought was that the best way to transport a fortune in gemstones was to simply make it look like something else. Just another pouch in the courier’s bag, no fanfare or fuss.”\n\n\tLachier nodded, “I’m not sure I’ve got the guts to gamble like that... but it worked this time, true enough. Dani loves the earrings she had made from the stones the chief’s note said we could keep. Anyway... I mainly wanted to talk to all of you because of my upcoming coronation... but probably not for the reasons you’d expect. You’ll recall, before the crowd drowned her out, that the priestess mentioned the Northlook Incursion?”\n\n\tEvery head nodded around the table, Ferrl rumbling, “That was also covered in the historical portion of my Agent training... and I recall that it wasn’t the first one.”\n\n\tThe raccoon grimaced, “Historically, it’s getting to be almost a bad joke... Out of curiosity, I had one of the court scholars do some research and provide an analysis... and, in my family’s history, fifty-six percent of our coronations were immediately followed by an invasion from Atheria, with whom we’ve had non-aggression treaties the entire time. Despite this, they’ve never actually broken a single agreement with us.” He raised a hand as several of his guests opened their mouths to protest that combination’s impossibility, “Hear me out! The reason these haven’t been violations... is that they’ve never signed a treaty with our kingdom, or even dynasty; they’ve all been with the kings themselves! That’s why, even before my coronation, I want to move as quickly as possible to get an ambassadorial delegation up to them, a new one since our current consuls’ recognition died with Burtak. We need to either reestablish that pact, or get warning that a fresh invasion is on the way before it actually arrives; I’m already mustering troops to defend the border, but I’d really rather not have to if it’s at all avoidable.”\n\n\t“The way I remember my history lesson,” Ferrl interjected when his liege-to-be paused, “is that your father didn’t waste any time either... He had a fresh delegation off within a week of being crowned, and negotiations seemed to be going fine. There were simply some... understandable, or at least cleverly explained, delays before the final signing, and in that brief time they mobilized their forces, confining the negotiators to the embassy in perfect accordance with established international custom just as the first unfriendly boot crossed the border. Thus, in my opinion, that warning you just hoped for might take a bit of doing... We’ll need to find out the truth no matter the smiles and reassurances we’re greeted with, given their track record.”\n\n\tThe prince nodded with a sigh, “That’s exactly it... and why I want you folks on your way before my coronation, if possible.” He turned to smile at the vixen he’d once enjoyed in that very club, possibly even the same seat she was in now, “Ela... I’ve consulted with my legal counsel, and we’ve come up with a phrasing to relinquish your title and grant it to your brother, even if I’m not officially your liege yet, that will carry on once I’m crowned. You’ll still legally be your father’s firstborn, though, which is why I was considering you as my Atherian ambassador.”\n\n\tThe proxy countess blinked, then nodded, “My husband and I had been speculating on just what we’d do once I wasn’t bound to Gatuque anymore... and this certainly sounds like a challenge. Get up there, fast, and get a decent treaty negotiated and signed before they can invade, with a bit of risk and intrigue on the side...” She glanced to her left, “Do you think we could pull it off, dear?”\n\n\tRonnel shook his head, hands held helplessly wide, “I haven’t got a clue... By the prince’s words, they don’t always invade, but I’ve personally seen just what your family’s ties to the unicorns has meant for local economies. That, I must suspect, would make us an even more tempting target than usual. Were I in your liege’s place, I’d make but a token effort, sending someone I wouldn’t mind losing to try for the treaty, but otherwise assume that war is inevitable and prepare accordingly.”\n\n\tLachier leaned back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his muzzle with a wince, “Believe me, that same course has occurred to me... and I very much wish I could take it. I have to try as hard as I can to avoid conflict, though, due to relatively recent developments... The Vivenge Empire, north of the Vale, went one step beyond non-aggression with Atheria, signing a mutual defense pact some five years ago. Now, the Atherian crown does have a reputation for honesty and fair play in its diplomacy, within strict limits such as only invading during lapses in formal relations, but that just means we run a bigger risk then ever. You see, any border war involves at least a little bit of mutual penetration, and they could ‘fairly’ pull one very dirty trick, and agree to the treaty with us while even one of our troops is in their territory. That’s all it would take to bring Vivenge’s massive army in on their side, with us as the treaty-breakers, and Drachath... would be no more within two years. My generals have gamed it out repeatedly; even if we can expose that sort of legal trickery for what it is, and the Warkin joined us en masse in the name of justice, Fariach would be a flaming ruin no later than my thirty-eighth birthday.”\n\n\tSilence descended on the gathering as they each absorbed the convoluted implications of the situation... Finally, Serra mused half-wistfully, “My mother always told me that the little plots and intrigues in Stonecliff were simple compared to what she’d seen here. I... I guess I finally believe her. This is a fucking mess!”\n\n\tHer king-to-be gave a pained laugh, “That, as they say in simpler climes, is tellin’ it like it is...” More seriously in tone, though his half-grin remained a tad mischievous, he continued, “That’s also why you are here, though...” His smile broadened at her surprised blink, and he went on, “You, I’ve heard, are one sneaky little bitch. The knife you smuggled in just to twit my guard captain’s nose is only the latest of your antics, according to the very entertaining letters your parents occasionally sent me. My father and I couldn’t stop laughing for nearly an hour after hearing of the way you got that mason’s deliberately substandard stone swapped with the order to remodel his own home... It was his first time trying that trick, and also the last; we especially loved how you painted ‘go figure’ on the other side of the rock that killed him. With preemptive strikes like that, we weren’t even remotely surprised when, just last winter, a routine check by an Agent reported that Stonecliff had the lowest rate of corruption in the entire kingdom!”\n\n\tThe tigon was staring at tabletop, blushing, as she mumbled back, “I... almost screwed that one up. Daddy had to quietly bribe two workers who saw me near the quarry office to testify that they couldn’t make out even the species of the figure they’d seen, when I honestly hadn’t noticed them at all, and there weren’t many other cats in town who matched the description in their original, conveniently ‘lost’ report.”\n\n\tLachier shook his head, “For your age and experience, that was still a beautifully executed stunt. The general public still has no idea who was behind that death, and several others, and they’ve actually taken to calling it ‘Hypalia’s Curse,’ though not anywhere your family would ever hear. It’s growing into an outright legend, that anyone who doesn’t play fair in their business dealings in Stonecliff will come to a nasty, messy end, but Bromirin and Verona have made sure that we, in my family, know exactly what’s actually going on, in case you did get caught and needed a royal pardon.”\n\n\tFerrl had to chuckle, “That sounds almost like Diral’s old hobby... He never could pass up a chance to arrange an accident for someone who deserved it.” He paused, and glanced to the prince, “What ever became of my old comrade, anyway?”\n\n\tThe ‘coon looked around, his expression serious, “This doesn’t leave this room, people...” Only when he’d gotten a nod of agreement from everyone did he continue, grinning again, “He’s the new captain of the surviving Black Gulf Pirates, but they won’t be such for long. The crown is subsidizing a few merchants to sell to him cheaply, and buy at an excessive price, to vastly inflate the profits when the pirates take on a cargo ‘for cover.’ They’ll think it’s just part of a scam to get into a port and escape with information on fat targets... but those targets won’t be nearly as lucrative as expected. Some day soon, they’re going to look at how much more money they’re making as traders, and probably give piracy up as a bad idea.”\n\n\tSerra’s eyes were very bright as she visualized the described scenario, “Dayuhm, you guys play for the big prizes here in Fariach! That scheme makes mine look downright amateurish!”\n\n\t“Which, as I was saying before, brings us back to the reason you were invited,” Lachier mused. Reaching under his robe again, he fished around in a vest pocket, then dropped two glints of silver and red on the table. “Serra, daughter of Bromirin and Verona, and Pria, daughter of Sir Ferrl and Danara... I have an offer for you two. You’ve probably never even heard of the position, because we had a little trouble with the logistics... but it still officially exists. I’d like to make you both Junior Agents of the kingdom, and part of the ambassadorial party. I’m hoping that your ages will help people underestimate you, once you reach Atheria, making you some of the best spies I could possibly send.”\n\n\tWolf and tigon blinked in unison, the former darting an accusing glance at her father.\n\n\tFerrl nodded, unrepentant, “Yes, I knew he was going to make that offer. I know you wanted to be a ‘real’ Agent, but there’s no time for the testing and any extra training you might need if we’re going to get you on your way north soon enough to do some good.”\n\n\t“In one sense,” Lachier pointed out, “these are real Agent badges, only the metal differing. That problem I mentioned was that we couldn’t come up with a second signature spell for those rubies, so there’s no difference in how Stones of Validation react to them. If you accept, I’ll need an oath in the name of your favorite deity that you won’t have these pins gilded, because if you did, there’d be no telling you from any other Agent as far as the rest of the kingdom knows.”\n\n\tSerra reached out with a trembling hand to pick up one of the badges, eyes wide with wonder as she half-purred, “I never imagined an offer like this... but I accept, oh Goddess I accept! By Kathalla and in Her name, I swear I won’t gild this! Thank you, your Highness!”\n\n\tPria looked a bit more hesitant, accepting the pin readily enough, but it was the club itself she cast a nervous glance around... “I hate to admit this, here, but... well, I seem to have inherited only a fraction of my family’s bloodlust. If we’re talking about favorites, though, I do swear by Roxanarra that I won’t gild my badge. I do follow Kathalla, too, so it’ll be legal to make me an Agent if things work out later, but... not quite as enthusiastically.” Relaxing somewhat once her father and liege nodded their acceptance, she grinned to her older sister, “It’s all your fault... You kept your promise to me when I turned twelve, and taught me just what it was like to bed a girl... and I liked it. A lot.”\n\n\tThis fetched a dreamy-eyed giggle from Elaria, “So that’s why you’ve made it our annual ‘present’ for both of our birthdays... and why you’ve gotten so much better yourself, every year. I can’t say I’m sorry.”\n\n\tThe lone feline of the crowd arched a brow, giving the other girl her age a speculative look, “Ooh... and we’ll be on this mission together... We’re going to have to talk about this, later. As you can probably guess from my mother’s old reputation, I was raised with more... diverse tastes than most girls, too.”\n\n\tPria, in response, simply stuck her long, broad tongue out, and flicked the tip teasingly.\n\n\tNudging his chair back, Lachier stood, “Then it’s settled... I’ll be crowned in four days, the next official restday after the funeral, but I want Elaria, Pria, Serra, and anyone else who you feel should go along on my fastest ship with tomorrow’s morning tide.”\n\n\tRonnel raised his hand, “I’ll be accompanying my wife. Whether we bring our son or not... we’ll discuss in the day we have left. There is, after all, some degree of danger, and potential situations in which we’ll be required to be unarmed. My bare-handed techniques, then, would be a potentially decisive asset, and I must insist on offering.”\n\n\tThe ‘coon nodded, “That’s entirely up to her, as I declare her the ambassador right this moment. Just keep in mind that the ship can only hold a dozen passengers at most, and they’d have to leave some crew behind for that, so the more people you take, the more work you’ll have to help with on the way. For now, I’ve spent as much time here as I can get away with; there’s a dozen things that will require my immediate and urgent attention, the moment I show my face in the palace again.” He rolled his eyes, “Just what, I don’t know... but there’s always something absolutely vital these days... Good luck, my friends.”\n\n\tFerrl rose as well, offering his hand... then pulled his old friend into a quick, hard hug. “I’ll have to get back to my own embassy soon,” he rumbled, “but thank you for your time. I miss just hanging out like we did as teens, rare as that was...”\n\n\tThe prince sighed, “And I miss having you as an Agent... You were just starting to feel like an anchor my father and I could depend on; give you the job, and we’d never have to worry about it again... and then he retired you. Still, I have faith that your daughters will prove just as reliable... old friend.” Without another word, and showing no shame at the tears in his eyes, he turned back toward the point where the temporary gate was re-forming, and back to duty.\n\n* * *\n\n\tAs an ambassador, Elaria had the right to a personal guard no matter where she went... and, just this once, she was happy to ‘abuse’ some aspect of her power to minimize any delays in the one thing she absolutely had to do while in Fariach. It had been planned for nearly two years, and the fact that she’d be rushed onto a boat the next day was no reason to call it off. Six big men in plate armor and palace-livery surcoats accompanied her toward the blocky structure that was her goal, two peeling off to flank its main entrance while the others accompanied her inside. She didn’t envy the ones outside, as the afternoon sun would turn their suits into portable ovens, but none of them had so much as winced when she’d told them her plans. Those without a firm sense of duty, or those likely to complain at the first hint of discomfort, never made it past basic training in the palace guard.\n\n\tThe white mink behind the counter looked to be in her early twenties, probably the daughter or niece of the last holder of that post the countess had known, and she was clearly more than a bit startled as the guards took up positions at all four corners of the room. It was only as the vixen in the middle drew near that she managed to squeak, “Name?”\n\n\t“Elaria.”\n\n\tThe answer didn’t mean anything in the younger woman’s mind, but its prompt delivery helped remind her of her routine, and her voice was much steadier as she asked, “Rank?”\n\n\t“Princess, proxy countess, ambassador, blade dancer, army colonel, knight of Malia, champion of Malia, senior priestess of Malia, priestess of Roxanarra, and itinerant high priestess of Kathalla.”\n\n\tThe mink had been blinking by the third title, and it just got worse as the list went on and on, and she cringed at the emphasis on the last one. It was all she could do to keep from running and instead stammer, “T-type and n-n-number of purchase?”\n\n\tElaria’s reply came in the form of a piece of parchment set on the desk, a copy of the slave house’s own breeding records, with one name circled in fresh red ink, “You may wish to fetch your boss... as it’s my intention to purchase every... last... one of my relatives whom you have in stock, right down to the brooders and studs. I wasn’t always, you see, a princess, and the name on this sheet was mine.”\n\n\tThe poor girl could only stare in horror at the document, then fearfully at the heavily-armed guards and her customer’s own sheathed swords, before reaching for the far right bell-pull and yanking for all she was worth, something snapping in the system at her third tug and several feet of rope spilling free into her hands.\n\n\t“H-he’ll be right here, ma’am! I mean your Grace. Highness? Your Worship?!?”\n\n\tEla relented enough to smile, “Shhh... don’t worry. I said buy, not forcibly emancipate! We won’t have any trouble unless your manager refuses the sale, and then only with him. I’m sure that if I start having my men behead the upper ranks, we’ll get someone willing to sell to me long before we get to you.”\n\n\tThe reassurance did little to ease the woman’s shivering, and she clung to the counter with both hands as she awaited the man she’d called for, eyes darting wildly between the ominously-still guards and the door to the upper levels. That door finally opened, and a grossly obese bear squeezed through, still struggling to fasten his breeches after one of his ‘quality assurance’ sessions had been so loudly interrupted by the bell. He paused at the sight of what seemed like a small army in the confined space of the entryway, and just held his pants up manually as he asked, “What’s all the fuss, Grella?”\n\n\tThe countess held up her parchment again before the mink could answer, “I wish to purchase an entire product line... the one I came from.”\n\n\tBarely glancing at the document, the manager shook his head firmly, “Sorry, we’re sold out of that one.”\n\n\tAs her ‘customer’ merely frowned, the secretary half-squealed, “Sir! She’s a high priestess! You can’t lie to her!”\n\n\t“Of course he can,” the vixen countered as she reached over her shoulder with her free hand, “but only once.” The man barely had time to blink; an instant and a silvery blur later, her arm was at full extension to one side, the sword it held bloodied, and the bear sank to his knees then toppled over, his head rolling free as he struck the floor. She gave the blade a flick to clear its blood groove, and calmly addressed the girl again, “Please pull the second bell. Gently this time.”\n\n\tThe mink swallowed visibly, then gave a shaky nod and obeyed. The gilded iron filigree that separated her from the customer side of the counter had never looked so fragile as when that curved sword gleamed red...\n\n\t“Didn’t Harjal just...” a middle-aged, but fit, badger was asking when he entered, only to freeze at the sight of the man in question, in two pieces, and the enormous puddle of blood around him. Moving very slowly and carefully, he completed his stride and closed the door, shrewd eyes drifting between guards, the swordswoman, and his employee. “What’s going on here?” he asked, quietly.\n\n\tAt Elaria’s nod in her direction, the mink spoke up, “Sir... this woman’s a princess, and a high priestess... but also one our own products, long ago. She’s asked to buy the rest of her family, but Har... Harjal told her we didn’t have any, without even checking! Three seconds after he lied to her, she k-killed him.”\n\n\tThe house’s second in command shook his head with a sigh, “That bear always did have more balls than brains... I assume, your Highness, that the parchment in your hand describes your lineage?”\n\n\tElaria took a moment to wipe her sword on her hip and sheathe it before nodding, offering the document once more, “Yes. I was born into one of your prime pleasure lines, bought at age six, and from there my life got... interesting. I hold no grudge against Owned Elegance, despite present appearances, but I really would like to buy my relatives, and I’ll pay you even more than the small fortune they’re worth. You see, in the western half of the kingdom, and a bit of Dengar as well, the Roxanite temples have had a decline in applicants the last few years. I will, of course, be freeing all of the foxes and vixens I buy here today... but I know, from my own experience, just how much we like what we were bred for, so those who choose to can still do what they enjoy, but for a Goddess rather than a Master.”\n\n\tThe badger was looking shrewd again, “And you want only the ones we have here? You won’t go chopping up more of our staff if, say, we spend some of that fortune on buying back others who’ve already been sold, so we can keep the breed up?”\n\n\tHis ex-product smiled, “That... is actually a very wise move for you to make. No, I have no objection, and it isn’t my intent to permanently deprive O.E. of a profitable product line. My biggest motivation... is faith, and wanting to do right by one of the churches I serve. I know how good my breed is, and they’ll make excellent Roxanite priests and priestesses!”\n\n\tThis fetched a rueful shake of the head and a chuckle, “Indeed... Alright, let’s discuss this like rational people,” and he stepped around the puddle of blood, toward the farther of the benches for customers to wait on. Patting the seat beside him in invitation, he asked, “Just how much are you offering? We don’t normally sell our breeding stock, I’m sure you know, but if the price is right I have to at least consider it...”\n\n\tElaria glanced to one of her guards and snapped her fingers before following, taking a moment to wipe her boots on the carpet once she’d left the crimson pool that had spread over them. In response, the soldier clanked over, pulling the same iron box Lachier had given her out of a large belt pouch and passing it over. “Don’t say no too quickly,” she cautioned as she opened the lid to show two long rows of tightly-packed gold nobles, “as that’s just the appetizer. Give me a moment to get the second compartment open.” The coins butted up against the edge of the box at one end, but ended several inches before the other, and it was there that she struggled with a stiff latch before sliding the secondary lid open. Diamonds large and small sparkled in the lamplight, some nearly an inch in diameter.\n\n\tThe badger’s calm demeanor cracked as the gems came into view, and he couldn’t help but whistle, eyes wide, “That... those have to be worth more than we make in a year! I... I can see that we’re going to have to sell those very carefully, only a few at a time and over a wide area, or we’ll glut the market. I’m almost afraid to ask where you got that many...”\n\n\tThe princess shrugged, “Oh, that’s no secret... Officially, they’re an offering of thanks from the nation of Unicorn Vale, to Malia, for opening Her wall and letting my family in... that is, the one that adopted me after I was bought, not the ‘family’ I’m here to buy. They were also something of a surplus to begin with, as they didn’t want to ruin any markets either by selling too many of their gems too fast... Malia’s church, though, particularly in the Vale where almost everyone’s a member, has no use for the donation. Malia was happy to give away something She didn’t need, when Her sister did. The gold, in contrast, is from Roxanite temples and enclaves, large and small, rich and poor. Everyone contributed a little, and from farthings on up the trickling donations were consolidated until they reached the total you see here.”\n\n\tWith one more wondering shake of his head, the man looked up, “You, your Highness, have a deal. Two of our brood-vixens just littered, so counting the cubs we have at least twenty of your kin here. The youngest, of course, haven’t even begun training, but your line is one that’s consistently improved with each generation, and I’m sure they’ll have every bit of the libido and enthusiasm you expect.” He glanced over toward the desk, “Grella? You’ve just earned a bonus for staying on duty in a literally terrifying situation. Five of these nobles are yours, and I guess one or two of the smaller diamonds if you want to make jewelry with them. Please ring for someone to fetch a few domestics from the basement to clean up the mess in here and bring up the spare carpet. I’ll be escorting this fine lady upstairs, to gather up her purchase.”\n\n\tManaging the first smile to grace her muzzle since her workplace’s invasion, the mink nodded and gave the second-left-most bell-pull a quick tug, “Yes, sir!”\n\nChapter 3\n\n\tPria blinked, then did her best to hide a grin, as Serra came down the stairs of the inn, eyes still half-closed but the rest of her drawn unerringly toward the table and the scents of the food thereon. “I take it you’re finally recovered from the voyage?” she asked as the tigon sat.\n\n\tThe armored feline nodded vigorously, wasting no time as she grabbed a plate and fork and started spearing chops, sausages, strips of bacon, and a pair of buttered rolls, “Goddesses... I hope I never have to take another trip like that! I do well enough on a fishing boat on a lake... but I didn’t really think about what it meant, that we were on the fastest ship in Lachier’s entire navy! Two days... to pass the entire coasts of Fariach and Northlook by, and another hundred miles to Crown Port, with a ‘minor’ storm in the middle! I’m just glad the actual capitol’s inland; without this last leg of the journey, I’d have been in sorry shape indeed to show up at the palace.”\n\n\tHer lupine friend nodded, “The captain did say that he’d never seen a lubber quite as seasick as you got, and I overheard the mate hoping that none of the fish choked on the toeclaws you’d obviously heaved up. Anyway, we’re back on dry land to stay, now, and we should be in Atheria City in time for lunch thanks to the carriage and good horses the former ambassador thought to send ahead. As we speak, Lachier’s coronation is probably proceeding, so the timing worked out just about perfectly. The Atherians know our traditions as well as we do, and if we’d gotten here any faster they’d probably quibble over our credentials being in the name of someone who wasn’t quite a king yet.”\n\n\tSerra nodded as she chewed... On the ship, she’d sworn she’d never eat another bite, but her appetite had returned with a vengeance that scoffed at that feeble oath. Shrugging, she swallowed and grimaced, “Technicalities... Those seem to be the national fetish, here. Sure, I suppose it’s theoretically possible for Danique to have her brother assassinated then blackmail the advisory council into naming her queen in the space of an hour, but that’s a damned long shot of a ‘maybe’ to base international relations on! Why can’t anyone see ‘close enough’ as just that?”\n\n\tAcross the table, Elaria chuckled, “Welcome to high-stakes diplomacy, dear... These tiny-seeming points of fact and speculation are, indeed, important all out of any sensible proportion. In any case, Kathalla would have told us if anything had happened to interfere with the coronation, and Dani would be the last person to do that sort of thing. She... has her own fetishes, which I directly participated in, decades back, and ascending the throne would put far too big a crimp in her love life for her to ever bother. Now, eat well, but carefully; if you stuff yourself too quickly you may just end up losing it again, but I still want us to be on our way in twenty or thirty minutes.” Pausing only to stuff half a sausage into a roll and take a bite, the vixen glanced to the armored elk just finishing his own breakfast at the foot of the table, a question in her eyes.\n\n\tThe soldier nodded, understanding, and confirmed, “Everything’s still green, ma’am. At a trot, we should make the city within three hours, and it’s a restday, so all the market traffic was either yesterday or around dawn this morning for fresh produce. You haven’t broken the speed limit yet, and I’ll swear to the gate guards that I personally saw you step off of that Drachathian ship under official flags.” He tilted an ear toward the feline, “I agree with your own guard, that the niggling little points the upper brass fuss over can be silly... but that’s why I agreed to tag along. I don’t want a war any more than the next trooper, so we need to get you to where you can prevent one as fast as possible, and I’m happy to help.”\n\n\tRonnel pushed his plate away and brushed away a few crumbs before nodding, “We’re glad to have you along, Sergeant. I, for one, wouldn’t have known that driving a carriage at a gallop would have only served to slow us by means of being arrested... Your local knowledge of just which of these ‘niggling’ points are sore ones has probably saved us several days of avoidable delays.”\n\n\tThe Atherian solder nodded, though he wouldn’t quite meet the fox’s gaze. He’d thought the man’s wife had been joking when she promised a blowjob in return for his help... and still hadn’t quite recovered his full aplomb after being proven, however pleasantly, wrong.\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe usual murmur of conversations faded somewhat as the huge, ornate doors swung open, and the herald, robe glinting with sewn-on jewels and his heavily gilded staff thumping on the carpet, called out, “Dame Elaria, Priestess of All Goddesses, Ex-Regent of the Earldom of Gatuque, duly appointed Ambassador Apparent of Drachath, approaches to seek recognition and accreditation!”\n\n\tThe vixen’s two ‘guards’ kept their expressions carefully neutral at that rather abbreviated list of titles, the best they’d managed to haggle out after nearly twenty minutes of excessively polite argument with the herald. There were fewer slaves in Atheria than Drachath, limited to specific family lines, but no legal procedure for freeing them, so the ambassador’s birth necessitated a number of compromises. The ‘regency,’ for example; that was a post that could, theoretically, have been filled by a commoner, and the closest relationship to her real titles they could use. Her knighthood and ecclesiastic ranks had both been earned from recognized religious authorities, bypassing the hierarchy of secular nobility entirely, so they still applied, but it was a sure thing that no official of this court would ever call her a princess except, possibly, as a sneered point of diplomatic insult. Serra and Pria were, of course, unarmed, and Ronnel had been firmly denied access to the throne room at this delicate juncture... Until the embassy had been formally recognized, neither spouse nor honor guard had any of their usual rights.\n\n\tThe middle-aged cougar at the other end of the room turned away from his teenaged wife and stood, raising a hand, and even the whispers between his assorted courtiers faded entirely. “Why,” he asked, “is this woman allowed into our presence wearing those swords on her back?”\n\n\tElaria spoke up for herself, calling upon her choral practice to project a clear, ringing voice, “Your Majesty, I tell you the same thing I told your guards... One of these swords is of the finest mortal craftsmanship in the world, while the other is a duplicate, particle for particle, forged by a Goddess. Even I don’t know which is which, as the original was in my room when Malia made the second as a birthday present. You’re free to confiscate one and put the other in a temple as befits a holy relic, but it’s your own soul you’d be risking on the flip of the proverbial coin. It would, I think, be far easier to simply treat these blades as my right as a knight, and be done with it.”\n\n\tThe cat’s eyes had widened slightly at her claims, but he controlled his expression quickly enough, nodding regally as she fell silent, “I can see why my functionaries... deferred that decision. May I have your oath, then, as a knight and priestess, that you won’t use those blades in this room?”\n\n\t“By Malia, by Roxanarra, and by Kathalla, I swear not to draw steel save in direct defense of my person in this chamber,” she replied solemnly.\n\n\tQuirking a brow, the king nodded once more and relaxed back onto his throne, “You show wisdom, at this point in time, by making no mention of defending your kingdom in that oath... I accept it, then, and you may approach to present your credentials.”\n\n\tSeveral of the watching guards relaxed as the small party resumed its procession down the central carpet, not the least of which were the Drachathians. The two young women had spotted the loophole in that oath even if the king had missed it; if trouble erupted, they could each grab a sword off of their boss’ back even if she couldn’t. Fortunately, that briefly-tense moment seemed to have slipped completely into the usual formalities, Elaria handing her thick sheaf of signed and sealed parchment to the king’s seneschal, who proceeded to read aloud the names, descriptions, roles, and requested rights of every member of the embassy, from ambassador to châtelaine.\n\n\tWhen the lengthy recitation had concluded, the monarch stood a second time and declaimed, “Your embassy is in good order by the standards of years past, but the more recent alliance between Mighty Atheria and Unconquered Vivenge has altered those standards somewhat... We no longer offer diplomatic immunity to any embassy’s honor guards. You, as ambassador, and your immediate family still enjoy that protection, but we are aware of your... questionable adoption, and the fact that one of your guards is considered your sister in Drachath. By local law, only your husband falls under the appropriate definition. We wish to offer no insult by this reduction in traditional ambassadorial prerogatives, though, so in partial compensation, while still meeting our own treaty obligations, I offer your embassy guards the legal status of Atherian citizens for the duration of their residence and duties here. They shall still be subject to all applicable laws and restrictions, but without the additional rules and limitations normally faced by foreign nationals within our borders, and your embassy grounds themselves remain Drachathian territory. Can you accept these limitations?”\n\n\tRaising one hand for just a moment’s delay, Elaria stepped back and whispered to her two companions, “That means you’ll be able to wear knives, at least... Memorize the length of what the courtiers have in their belts, as it’s most likely a legal limit, and when we get to the embassy, find someone who knows if there’s a limit to number as well. Many of the boots here are suspiciously stiff-sided, so it’s more than one.” At a pair of quick, silent nods, she turned back to the king, raising her voice again, “Your Majesty, my staff and I are able to accept these new rules, and we will abide by them, with our thanks for your obvious efforts to find a compromise that won’t leave us defenseless in a strange land.”\n\n\tOne more nod from the heavy-set feline was forthcoming, “Then I, Keesanrel III, do formally recognize and greet you as ambassador of his Majesty, Lachier II of Drachath. With our agreed-upon alterations regarding immunity, I accept your credentials as they stand, and direct that my clerks prepare a revised official roster for the embassy for your approval no later than tomorrow morning.”\n\n\tEven as two pairs of boot heels clicked behind her, the girls snapping to attention, Elaria simply smiled and bowed deeply, as the confirmation of her status immediately reduced her freedom to speak. Her muzzle was now Lachier’s, legally, and, outside of the embassy walls, she’d be generally expected to keep it shut unless in a formal meeting with Keesanrel’s representatives.\n\n* * *\n\n\tKeesanrel let the servant help him out of his heavy state robes, then took a seat and waited for the door to close before turning to his court wizard, “So, Tyron... are they what they seem to be?”\n\n\tThe younger cougar, incidentally the king’s own first cousin, nodded as he grabbed a decanter of wine and two goblets from the small room’s sideboard, “On the surface, yes; an ambassador and two young guards. Below that, though...” He reached up to touch the small, bronze, feline face dangling from the silver chain around his neck, “Their souls are... intriguing. That girl who looks like a striped lioness is the simplest, being a pure and devout Kathallic as we might expect, but the young bitch is oddly mottled, as if she serves the Fanged One as an afterthought. The ambassador herself... is even worse, her spirit as complicated as a calico’s fur. On a marginally more mundane level, the wolf’s a minor mage, barely trained and with the potential for mastery only if she studies hard ‘til middle age, but the only actual magic I could sense was on the order of low-powered signature spells, in the credential documents and at two more points, as best I could tell within each of the guards’ vaginas. They look too young to be Agents, but if they’d hidden badges up there it’d account for what I’d sensed.”\n\n\tThe king frowned faintly as he reached out to accept one of the goblets his cousin had filled, “They’re too young, right, but only one of them is any sort of mage, and it takes at least a little of that talent to be an effective Agent... If we’d been able to prepare a proper reception at the port, I’d have had them searched, yes, even there, to clear this mystery up, but it’s too late now. Blast it, how did they get here so fast?!?”\n\n\tTyron shook his head with a sympathetic smile, “By studying history, my liege. Particularly with how prosperous their country’s been in recent years, they have to know we’re considering an invasion, so they pulled out all the stops. Unfortunately, we’ve never passed any laws regarding post-dating official documents... Lachier’s signature, even if he wasn’t king yet, counts on their credentials since he’s king now.”\n\n\tKeesanrel downed another gulp of wine, sighing as he eased further back into the high-backed chair’s soft cushions, always grateful for the relaxation to be found in the ruby liquid after even an ordinary day of court, “So we’ve got two, potentially very dangerous children, with some sort of official standing even if it’s not full Agency, and an ex-slave who, by all accounts, has had carnal knowledge of every species on two legs, assuming for the moment that the slut stopped there. Is Lachier fucking insane?!? He has to know how precarious a position he and his whole kingdom are in; you’d think he’d send someone experienced, someone competent!”\n\n\tHis cousin blinked, struggling to keep a reflexive scowl off his muzzle since he knew full well that his king actually meant the one thing he hadn’t said, ‘someone male,’ and said instead, “My liege... don’t underestimate who he did send. The ambassador’s father is personally responsible for Unicorn Vale being opened to outsiders for the first time in a thousand years, and she was with him when it happened. One of the guards is his own natural daughter, too, and the other’s mother may have been even more of a ‘slut,’ but she personally managed to turn an entire, ailing county around, and she didn’t do it by spreading her legs. In any case, please keep your speculations regarding the embassy’s collective love life to yourself, as they are on good, speaking terms with several deities. If we’d had this conversation in public, you’d have at least two of the kingdom’s high priests questioning your fitness to rule.”\n\n\tThe older cougar winced faintly, then knocked back the rest of his wine and reached across the table for the decanter, pouring a refill, “Damnit... you’re right, as usual, my friend. It’s... hard, cursed hard, to let some of those details pass without comment, but I’ll try to lose myself in the usual dance of half-truth and delay while our troops muster and train up. Unless something completely unexpected occurs, we will invade, though now I’m seriously considering only a shallow bridgehead into Northlook, then cutting across to their duchy of Rajai... It’s a long way to their capitol, but not quite so long to the entrance to the Vale, and if we seize that strongly enough, possibly cutting off their northern holdings entirely, all the way to Dengar...”\n\n\tTyron forced his expression to remain neutral as he agreed blandly, “Economically speaking, that would probably be our best option.” ‘... if we’re stupid-greedy enough to attack in the first bloody place!’ he added to himself.\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe very similar, if larger, meeting taking place at that moment in the Drachathian embassy was made more formal by the presence of the last ambassador’s chief aide, at least at one end of the dining room’s long table. At the other, though, protocol was being lightly shattered by Pria’s and Serra’s occasional gasps and giggles. They were trying to pay attention, true, but it was a little difficult while distracted by their little game of trying to fish each others’ badges out of their ‘hiding spots.’\n\n\t“... so I went through the archives, and compiled a list of every single official inquiry, debated point of protocol, or other delaying tactic that they’d used in the past,” that aide reported. “The most effective of these, previously, was a demand to survey our official borders and make sure that all the landmarks were still in place, and that neither side was encroaching unlawfully... As a matter of routine, your predecessor double-checked exactly those details every five years. The latest survey’s about two years old, but the results of a fresh one should be arriving within a week, or as little as three days if we’re exceptionally lucky, since we’d registered a standing order with the border garrisons’ engineering corps to confirm all the details previously quibbled over the moment Burtak died.”\n\n\tElaria nodded, “Thank you, Meviran; that’s an excellent precaution, and I’ll be keeping an eye out for the report in the diplomatic pouch if we manage to make it a week without war.”\n\n\tThe white mink gave a nod that left the impression he’d bowed, then went on, “The stickiest point in the job ahead of you is the mutual protocol clauses in their treaty with Vivenge... While, in principle, standardizing these sorts of things across nations and legal systems is a good thing, we weren’t included in the initial sharing, and they’ve refused to release the exact text of their treaty thus far. I’ve managed to... ‘acquire’ transcripts of almost every session of their high magistrates’ courts that dealt with disputes between parties of differing nationalities, and my analysts think they’ve identified several of the newer definitions and standards in use, but at least one pair of these transcripts are mutually contradictory. Those particular cases are relatively minor, both dealing with customs inspections and what does and does not need to be declared, and I suspect that the differing final judgments represent the biases of the individual magistrates, despite their oath of neutrality. Still, I have someone keeping an eye out for a tie-breaking decision we can refine our information with.”\n\n\tHis new boss nodded with a faint frown, “I think I’ll make that the central point of my first official meeting... They cannot seriously expect us to work in the dark; if they won’t give us a copy of the treaty, or at least a list of all legal definitions that are defined or changed in it, then I’ll have to interpret their refusal as a rejection of our embassy itself and any formal relations with Drachath.” Several of the aide’s assistants blinked at that, though Meviran himself managed to look unruffled, and she smiled grimly, “I’m almost certain they’ll fold... because they’ll lose all possibility of support from Vivenge if they don’t. I will sever all relations and withdraw the embassy entirely, and their hypothetical plan to invoke the mutual defense clauses of their existing treaty requires that they have something with us, for us to take the blame for breaking! This whole issue of definitions, too, is a twofold weapon against us, both in debating wordings simply to delay us, and to possibly slip a term into the new treaty I’m supposed to seek that doesn’t mean quite the same thing to both sides. I refuse to operate in ignorance, and if they try to make me, they’ll regret it.”\n\n\tThe mink hid a shiver at her implacable tone; he’d worried, briefly, that sending someone other than a ‘pure’ Kathallic might saddle him with a weakling, someone too much in love with the notions of compromise and coexistence to take a hard line, but that was most definitely not the case with the new ambassador. Glancing down at the notes he rarely needed, just to order his reeling thoughts, he went on, “Last on the list of things I was directed to bring to your attention is the religious aspect...” He had to fight an amused smile, then, at how quickly Elaria’s ears perked up. “Atheria officially supports the deities of light, but the... degree of that support has lessened recently. Specifically, certain traditional protections or special rights are no longer provided by the legal system. Molinden’s divinity is not recognized at all, even partially as in our kingdom where we call Him a demigod, despite direct communication from the ‘old’ pantheon confirming that he exists, and was created as a joint project between Shattrathin and Karnaal to encourage moderation among merchants, being neither too greedy nor stupidly generous. Thus, His followers and clergy receive no official benefit from their devotion. Tarragh’s Warkin, in a distantly-related issue, no longer enjoy any exemption whatsoever to where citizens can or cannot legally go armed or armored. The dark Gods, of course, get the really smelly end of the stick: no temples, and zero protection. Simple identification as one of Their followers is enough to warrant an investigation, including search of property, and sacrificing anyone but an owned slave to Kathalla will get you arrested and formally tried for murder. There’s been some effort to repeal the Roxanites’ exemption from prostitution-related licensing and tariffs, but they saw it coming and started offering free or discounted services to select officials, by some of their very best practicing clergy, then simply pointed out that they’d be unable to continue that sort of thing if the proposed restrictions went into law. Needless to say, that motion is currently quite, quite stalled.”\n\n\tElaria smiled, sighing a bit, “I wish I could solve my problems the same way... The king here is on his third wife, and clearly chose her for reasons other than her brain, suggesting the possibility of leading him around by his balls... but, alas.”\n\n\tSerra took Pria’s badge out of her mouth and handed it back before commenting, “I’m the queen’s age and close enough in species... Hell, with my mix I could probably bear the man an heir. He’s a bit chubby for my tastes, but if seduction ever seems like a viable option, just let me know.”\n\n\tThe aide frowned slightly, but the ambassador nodded, “I’ll keep your offer in mind, dear. Probably not for the king... but I can’t be the only one of us to have noticed that the court wizard’s Maliite, even if he’s only got an acolyte’s pendant. He’s younger and thinner, too, and reputed to have influence with the king... He’d be the most likely prospect for such a ploy, rather than risk charges of conspiring to entangle the monarch himself in an infidelity scandal.” She glanced back to Meviran, “Oh, don’t look so worried... I’m not about to try seducing my way to a treaty, but we’ve got to keep our options open. In the right circumstance, this is no different than the bribes you handed out for those court transcripts, save for the nature of the currency in use. Now... if there’s nothing else you need to brief us all on, it’s just about time for supper, which I’ll take in my office while I browse my predecessor’s notes and private files. Just let me know when you can arrange an official meeting for me, and I’ll proceed as I’ve outlined then.”\n\n\t“As you wish, Ambassador,” her aide nodded, then withdrew, his staff trailing behind.\n\n\tSerra glanced over as soon as the door clicked shut, “Alright, puppy, I’m sure you’ve sucked out all the flavor by now... Could I have my badge back? I’ll need to stash it safely before I change out of this uniform and look into the embassy’s most popular attraction; that’s where I want my dinner, since it’s here...”\n\n\tRonnel and Pria both blinked, looking confused, so Ela filled them in with a chuckle, “It’s simple, almost obvious, when you think about it... As Meviran just explained, there are no temples to the dark Gods in this country, at least not obvious ones... and this complex is Drachathian territory, so our rules apply, not theirs. Where else do you think the local faithful would put a Kathallic playclub? It’s actually more public than the ones back home; everyone knows it’s here, and we don’t turn away the Godless. It does a lot more business in renting slaves for simple sex, or for people who want to beat someone up without consequences even if they’d never kill anyone, too. The ambassadorial guard already stationed here doubles as peace-keepers and bouncers there, with several ‘main’ rooms depending on the degree of play folks are looking for... It’s not surprising, really, that this is one embassy that’s never needed a budget sent from Fariach. There are more than enough Atherians with money and a taste for the exotic to support us.”\n\n\tPria giggled faintly, then shook her head, “It sounds like a fun place, but I think I’ll pass, myself. Related to that, though, I wanted to ask... did you get the sleeping arrangements straightened out?”\n\n\tSerra answered for her, “Yes, we’ve got the same room... and it’s got a climbable window and is connected to the escape tunnels. We can sneak out at need easily enough... and I’ll join you there once I’ve had my fun, then probably ravish you for dessert.”\n\n\tThe wolf nodded, licking her muzzle, “I’m looking forward to that... The last time I got to lick a girl who’d just been worked up at one of those clubs,” and she grinned broadly across the table at her older sister, “I nearly drowned. There’s not much else that can soak a Kathallic’s underdrawers like one of those places!”\n\n\tElaria simply smirked back, “I remember that night... though I dare you to name a single time you’ve ever caught me wearing underdrawers. Still and all, I’d just held down a stallion while Pola gutted him, then I got to do the same to her! You know how much I like that sort of thing, and your muzzle buried in me was the perfect cap to the evening.”\n\n\tOnce various naughty giggles, and a few snickers from the regular guards, had died down, Ronnel asked his wife, “And what should I do this evening, my love?”\n\n\tThe vixen sobered and grimaced, “Just stay nearby and on call to keep me sane. Half the troubles we’ve discussed tonight are technically secrets, and I expect to find even more in the confidential, eyes-only files of the embassy. I’ll read as much as I can stomach at a go... at which time I expect to need your warm, solid embrace as my anchor in a world gone mad.”\n\n\tHer fox’s eyes softened as he simply gazed at her for a long moment, then nodded, “Always, love, and you don’t even have to ask.”\n\nChapter 4\n\n\tSerra finished the short walk between the embassy’s two arched entryways, both flanked by watchful guards but, unlike the main entrance’s courtyard, the second arch was the top of a covered staircase leading down. Her Junior Agent pin was half-hidden by folds of her light sun dress, her embassy staff tassel more blatant on her right shoulder, those and the belt supporting her coinpouch the only clothes she’d bothered with, her feet bare. A story and a half down, she opened the door inset with the steel fangs of Kathalla’s ‘casual’ mark, to find herself in an alcove set into a lateral hallway.\n\n\t“Naughty, violent, or lethal?” the bored-looking wolf sitting at a desk with a cashbox asked. He’d probably been there since the club opened at noon, and it showed.\n\n\t“Lethal, I hope, but not until I get the rundown on this club,” she replied, leaning against the desk. “I only just got here, with Princess Elaria’s party, and I need to know... well, everything! What’s the cover charge, what are the fines for excess killing, do you want Atherian or Drachathian coin...”\n\n\tThe desk man blinked, straightening up in his seat, then shook his head, “You’re staff... more than that, I’m guessing you’re part of the ambassador’s private council, not one of our consular-service regulars! If you’d asked anyone upstairs, they’d have told you; the facilities and entertainments here are simply a perk of your job, and you can do whatever you please.”\n\n\tSerra blinked, then shivered in pleased surprise, “Oh, my... and here I’d been worrying about burning through the allowance my folks sent me to Fariach with too quickly! Still... how’s the slave supply? As much as I’d love to literally bathe in blood, I don’t want to inconvenience the regular staff here with such slaughter that the pens are emptied overnight...”\n\n\tThe wolf chuckled, “You could, though... We hunt for the best bargains where looks and ability are concerned, for the ‘naughty’ room, but the club itself is a standing threat to ensure good behavior among local slaves. The ones here for beatings or worse... were sold to us very cheaply by their owners, specifically as a punishment. There’s actually a waiting list for those purchases, dozens available at need unless they amend their behavior enough to be taken off of it.”\n\n\t“And what of collars?” the tigon inquired. “Do the standards differ here compared to a Drachathian playclub, regarding just who one should or shouldn’t take liberties with?”\n\n\tThis earned a low chuckle, “We’ve got a few of the types you’re used to that’ve been smuggled in, and they’ve got the color-coded collars and clasps you’re used to... but Atherian slaves are fitted with a solid iron ring collar before they’re a year old, tied on ‘til their heads are too big to get it off over. If one proves particularly useful, we add a dab of black or purple paint to it, but the rest you can consider as disposable as any red. If you take a black and someone bitches, well, that’d be three silver pennies local, or two Drachathian silver half-crowns, after your staff discount.”\n\n\tSerra couldn’t help but purr as she nodded, “That... I can afford. I think I’m going to enjoy this...”\n\n\tThe wolf nodded back with a grin, then sobered and pointed, “That, though... you’ll want to take off your badge while you’re here. The tassel’s enough as far as identification goes, where our staff are concerned, but a surprising number of local courtiers are regulars here. If you’re seen with that, you’ll come under intense, official scrutiny, and every last word or act will be reported to the king’s spymaster.”\n\n\t“Damn,” the tigon admitted as she unpinned her badge to bury at the bottom of her pouch, “I hadn’t thought of that, even after being told how popular this place was... I’ll probably be dodging spies anyway, just for arriving in the princess’ company, but there’s no sense in making it worse. Thank you for the advice and information... now, where can I go make a mess with someone’s internal organs?”\n\n\tThe man grinned again and jerked a thumb, “Left end of the hall, and have fun!”\n\n\tSerra was moving even as she grinned back over her shoulder, “Oh, I shall! And thank you!” A single teardrop of blood-red, polished stone was inset into the door there, and she idly guessed that the others were most likely decorated with a fist and some depiction of genitals respectively, but she didn’t let speculation keep her from opening it and stepping in. Her thighs were already damp with anticipation... and the sight that greeted her failed completely to disappoint.\n\n\tHalf of the large room was taken up by a raised, varnished pine platform, both edges occupied by uneven lines of nervously-waiting slaves. The far wall held shelves of tools and toys, ranging from blades and bludgeons to manacles and ropes, and naked forms in collars splashed with black or, in just one or two cases, purple were occupied either mopping up three distinct patches of blood, one with a length of intestine still awaiting cleanup, or dragging a burly bull’s corpse toward a rear door. Better than half of the patrons were only identifiable by their lack of collars, bundles of clothes tucked under most of the six large tables on the lower half of the room. The meals visible looked ordinary enough, though it was anyone’s guess where the meat had come from, and a few of the patrons were clearly enjoying the raw, severed limbs of some biped, seasoned by bottles and shakers on a small tray in the middle of each table, clearly offering much more variety than the usual salt and pepper.\n\n\tPicking a table with only two current occupants, both dressed and enjoying a meal, the tigon padded over and inquired, “Mind if I sit here? Or, rather, leave my dress here while I pick a ‘playmate’ of my own to... invite to supper?”\n\n\tThe lady of the vulpine couple, both looking to be in their mid-twenties, merely snickered, while her companion replied, “Not at all, lovely kitten... This is the busiest time of night for this room, and neither of us expected to have the table to ourselves all evening.”\n\n\tSerra nodded, then blinked, tilting her head, “I... think I’ve seen you before. Weren’t you two on the left side of the king’s court, when I arrived with Ambassador Elaria earlier?”\n\n\tBoth foxes nodded, the vixen musing, “Yes, you did... We’re sister and brother-in-law to Count Openheim, respectively, and we keep an eye on the political situation for him while he attends to his holding’s affairs. These are, of course, rather momentous times for such, given how frequently our countries have had short wars following the death of one of your kings... but we’re both hoping, for my brother’s sake, that such can be avoided this time. The winter was rather hard this year, and we’ll have trouble supporting the troops our king will rightfully demand for another such battle, at least ‘til the spring harvest comes in.”\n\n\tEven as she set aside her tassel, belt, and purse, the tigon nodded, “That’s what we’re here to prevent... if we can. Every Atherian native I’ve met has been against war, but Drachath’s ties to Unicorn Vale have to be tempting to any monarch. We’ll do everything we can to prevent conflict, but if Keesanrel’s got his mind made up, well...”\n\n\tBoth vulpines nodded, looking like they’d bitten into something sour.\n\n\tThe vixen’s expression, at least, grew much less unpleasant as the feline pulled her dress up and off, dropping it just under the table as she looked over the assembled slaves, and she mused quietly, “Do you two have any suggestions? This is my first night in town, and I’ve no experience at all with the local breeding lines...”\n\n\tHis wife busy licking her lips as she looked up and down the teen’s lithe body, the male mused, “Those lines have been established for centuries, matings arranged in a constant effort to improve them... so I’d have to say they’re all roughly equal by now. Just pick whoever matches your appetites, for taste and lust alike.”\n\n\tShe’d been far too sick to even consider intimacy on the journey here, so the only thing Serra really knew about Pria was that she liked girls... so she decided right then not to come home smelling or tasting like a man. The nearest slave on the right side of the room that shared her table was a female mouse about her age, so she made her mental decision along with a physical nod, “Alright... I’ll be back as soon as I’ve made a proper mess of that one there.”\n\n\tThe vixen snickered, and her mate muttered something about getting to watch a ‘real Kathallic’ for a change.\n\n\tSeveral of the waiting slaves tensed as, at the corners of their downcast gazes, an obvious carnivore strode firmly and directly up to the stage, some slumping a bit, others donning facial expressions, whatever best matched the image of ‘not worth choosing’ in their particular minds. It took them another moment, though, to realize that the figure had stopped at the very end, and the mouse there let her gaze rise carefully higher... then dropped it with a hard wince as she confirmed that she was the one the newcomer was staring at. “May... may I help you, Mistress?” she managed to force out.\n\n\t“Yes, and I’m not going to lie to you... you are going to die tonight. Such will, however, be a more pleasant experience than you can currently believe. My current streak stands at five slaves in a row with an echo of pleasure still on their dead faces, and as a matter of personal pride I’ll do my best to make it six. Hell, Kathalla told me that the third of those was actually disappointed to wind up in Her heaven, asking if she could please go right back for just a bit more licking...”\n\n\tThe rodent blinked, her gaze nearly meeting her Mistress’ from sheer surprise until she wrenched it back down, and she could only shake her head in wonder, “That’s... better than I hoped for, when I was sent here, ma’am. How would you like to begin?”\n\n\tGlancing around, Serra admitted, “That’s actually a pretty good question... Normally I’d have more furniture available to work with, as Drachathian clubs don’t have this one’s level of specialization, the rooms meant for several degrees of play. While I’m working out the mechanics of it all, why don’t you tell me how you came to be here? This is mostly just my own curiosity speaking, but I really do want to know what your ‘crime’ was.”\n\n\tThis fetched a bitter grimace, “I was bought for both domestic chores and pleasure, for my owner and his teenaged son. I followed every order I was given, be it immediate or ongoing, so he should have made it a standing order if he wanted me to share his double standard. I had no reason to disobey, when his twelve-year-old daughter ordered me into her bed, and she certainly enjoyed herself... until her second peak’s cry caught his attention, and here I am. I think he charged the club half a copper for me; I was just doing my job, but he was seriously pissed, and obviously couldn’t take it out on his ‘precious, innocent baby.’”\n\n\tThe tigon gave a snort of unleavened disgust, “Bastard... Babies grow up, and all the wishful thinking in the world won’t change that.” She gave the slave a comforting pat on the shoulder, then a light tug in the same spot, “Come back to my table, then. The chair there should suffice while you give me a taste of what his daughter enjoyed, as you’re obviously good with your tongue if you managed to make a virgin, or someone close to it, that happy before getting caught.”\n\n\tHer prospective lover rolled her eyes as she followed obediently behind, “She wasn’t, and that was probably my biggest mistake, mentioning it while I was trying to explain. There wasn’t even a shred of hymen left, as a finger or two might have left behind; I had her spread enough to see that much at least, and I only tongued the outer reaches anyway. Someone, either a boy or the girl herself if she’d learned to masturbate frequently, got there first.”\n\n\tSerra nodded as she reached the table, pulled her chair out a bit more, and sat down with her rump on the very edge, providing easy access to her own, already-moist folds as she spread her legs, “Sometimes I forget just how lucky I was to have been raised by an open-minded father and a downright promiscuous mother. I was about twelve, myself, when Momma taught me how to give a stallion a blowjob without getting trampled. Now, you kneel down here and show me what that tongue of yours can do. Mine, and its rasps, will return the favor soon enough!”\n\n\tEven as she knelt, the slave nodded with a wide smile at the irony, “Lucky indeed! For the here and now, though,” and she leaned closer, eyes closing as she sniffed deeply, “let’s see if you taste as good as she did, which was almost worth my punishment, to be honest...” Her slim tongue slipped out as she neared, brushing first against the dampened fur to either side; other than that daughter, she hadn’t had a woman to please since the days of her own training when she’d bunked in the all-female quarters at the slavers’, her sisters-in-service rarely sleeping alone unless some mistake on their part resulted in their being ordered to. She tended to start slowly, there, as much for the goal of teasing her playmates with a slow build-up, usually resulting in an even more intense final release, as to test her own self-restraint, as she’d been criticized more than once by her teachers for diving in too enthusiastically. The growing hint of a rumbling purr in this evening’s lover’s breath, as she drew nearer to bare, sensitive flesh with each lap, set her mind firmly into the well-worn rut of habit, not even the promise that she’d die tonight infringing on her enjoyment as she finally brought her fingers up to spread the feline’s mound and lap at the saltier, muskier residues between inner labia and outer. She could feel her own sex swelling at the intense flavors of those deep crevasses, so frequently missed by daily groomings and only reached by long soaks in a proper bathtub, but the sweetness of fresh tigon-juice held its own temptation too, and she wasted no time in spreading those petals even further, lapping directly between the parted folds’ full length, the pleased yip that escaped above as she only barely missed her Mistress’ clit providing all the encouragement she needed to keep going.\n\n\t“I can’t believe it...” the fox at another seat remarked, still blinking. “You walked right up to her and said you were going to kill her, and here she is, licking like you were any other lover in the world! If it weren’t a recipe for a cramped face, she’d be smiling!”\n\n\tSerra’s giggle broke off almost immediately in a husky gasp as that tongue flicked her hood on the way back down, too, and her back arched against the chair as she spread her legs even wider, nodding shakily toward the other citizen, “I a-always keep my promises... no m-matter how, ooh... how good a lover she may be.”\n\n\tThat lover took a moment to flatten her whiskers to her muzzle, then press its upper half in as deep as she could, tongue still teasing around the lower folds she’d spread for a long moment, gathering and swallowing the juices that puddled there before they could trickle over the edge. Pulling back just a bit, then, she eased three slim, tight-grouped fingers inwards instead, rocking them gently back and forth as they sank gradually deeper, their short fur like a softer version of a feline’s tongue-rasps as it stroked the snug, moist passage’s walls, and she didn’t bother to open her eyes as she mused, “She promised me the best death I could hope for, sir. I’m to be sacrificed, not just killed for fun, so this isn’t the last time I’ll get to do this after all. What does my soul care, that my body will be bloody meat?”\n\n\tHer husband simply shaking his head in wonder, the vixen smirked from where she leaned, getting the best view that she could, and murred, “A good question, indeed... I kind of feel guilty, now, that the fellow I killed for dinner couldn’t enjoy the same fate.”\n\n\t*There is, of course, a very simple solution to that lament, for future kills,* a chilling, disembodied voice mused to all four souls.\n\n\tBoth Atherians’ eyes widened, and the slave couldn’t help but shiver, though she focused on her task again soon enough, curling her fingers upwards even as her tongue delved gradually, testingly lower... A single, half-moaning grunt of encouragement answered the question her caress implied, so she followed through with her own suggestion, her tongue finding and probing the tighter, crinkled ring below, swirling over it in tiny circles to the sound of a happy feline sigh.\n\n\tThe lady fox glanced over to her mate; the divine suggestion seemed obvious, after the fact, but she wanted to be sure...\n\n\tEasily guessing the question in her eyes, he thought for another moment himself, then nodded, “I probably shouldn’t, since I run into the priests of our brother’s holding too often... but you may if you want to, dear.”\n\n\tGrinning, the vixen glanced heavenwards and murmured, “Kathalla... I would indeed like to be Yours.”\n\n\t*And so you are, My dear,* the Goddess replied.\n\n\tSome part of Serra’s mind noticed the unplanned religious shift going on at her table, satisfaction at having helped her Goddess gain a new convert briefly coming to the fore of her consciousness, but the talented slave between her thighs demanded far more of her attention, her head tossed back and a long yowl drowning out the room’s other conversations as that pointy tongue finally penetrated her nether ring, pleasure wracking her body in a protracted shiver as her passage clenched around the invading fingers. The slave had obviously picked up a few, very specific tricks before being bought for exclusively male use; those fingertips kept pressing up against the sensitive pad of her Mistress’ pubic bone, while their backs and knuckles filled the lower edge of her passage, staying well away from her clit, even as that rounded tongue curled at the tip, stroking and tugging at the inside of the ring it penetrated, both serving to prolong the spasms of pleasure to a point that nearly set records in the teen’s experience. When her panting moans finally started to fade, the tremors of flesh quieting, the mouse eased her fingers gently outwards, her tongue retreating to lap instead at the wet fur of her smiling muzzle as she finally opened her eyes.\n\n\tThe tigon glanced down between her thighs, reflex and training keeping the slave from meeting her gaze at first, until she remembered that she no longer had anything to lose, and her expression gained a hint of defiant pride as she stared firmly back up. Reaching down to stroke gentle claws through the rodent’s headfur, Serra smiled back, “You are very good at that, I must agree. A few, a very few, of my former lovers could claim equal skill... and only my own mother, the biggest slut in Fariach before she met my dad, ever made me feel better. I suspect that you’ll be annoyingly popular in the afterlife, once word gets around, with never a free moment to yourself. Hell, you may end up choosing to reincarnate just to get away from those clamoring for your attention!”\n\n\tThe slave giggled, shaking her head, “Not for a few years, I hope... Would you like some more, now, Mistress?”\n\n\tSerra shook her head, still smiling, “No... I’ll get plenty more of that in my bedroom after dinner. Just climb up on the table with your knees hanging off the edge, for now,” and she glanced to her companions, “and, if you don’t mind, could one of you go borrow a knife for me? Folded steel, if they’ve got any, but as sharp as you can find regardless. Any cut will hurt, but a fine edge will do less to distract her from my own efforts to return that recent favor.”\n\n\tTo her mild surprise, both vulpines simply smirked, neither of them moving to rise, the male instead reaching between the chair and his back. The dagger he drew there bore the trademark swirls on its six-inch blade, save for the very edge where it shone almost like a mirror, clearly sharp enough to shave off someone’s fur with, and he slid it across the table toward where the rodent was getting settled without a word.\n\n\t“Goddess...” the cat swore softly. “If the smith who made that is anywhere near here... I have got to get one like it. I can’t remember ever lusting after a weapon this much, even though I know I can’t afford it myself, but I’m sure the ambassador will front me as many months’ pay as it takes, for a blade like that.”\n\n\tThe noble shook his head with a chuckle, “It was made by my father back in Openheim, I’m sorry to say. He’s the best smith in the holding, and it was the muscles and tone I developed assisting him that first caught the eye of the pretty young thing I ended up marrying. Your job here at the embassy would almost certainly preclude traveling that far to get another for yourself... though, now that I think about it, I could get one easily enough in a few weeks by courier. My da would skin me alive with the replacement if I just gave it away, though; he was never one to budge by a farthing from what he knew his blades were worth. If you could come up with, say, thirty florins, or twenty Drachathian gold nobles I think it works out to, then I’d be happy to let you keep this one. I know you’ll use it well.”\n\n\tSerra winced a bit, “Literally worth more than its weight in gold... but that’s a more than fair price for a blade like this one. I’ll see what I can do, and soon. I’ll check in here every evening at about this time once I have the money, and for tonight you have my profound thanks for even temporary use of this little beauty.” Even as the vulpines nodded at her sensible proposal, a whiff of fresh mouse-musk reached her nostrils, and she looked back to her lover to be greeted by the sight of a splayed, glistening sex. Sparing only the briefest, smiling glance at the eyes watching hers between the teen’s nipples, she scooted her chair forward and leaned in.\n\n\tThe slave let her eyes sink closed and her head roll back, her shiver of anticipation almost immediately stilled as the first touch of that broad, raspy tongue elicited a jerking twitch and a moaned squeak. Her Mistress, obviously, recognized how worked-up and ready she was, so wasn’t bothering to start slow; instead, she lapped firmly up the length of her puffy petals, bristles stark against the sensitive flesh, the curve of her tongue just concave enough to both enfold those lips and miss the faint protrusion of her clit above, though the very tips of those rasps brushed her hood with each stroke. Her fists clenching against the table top with each lick, the rodent’s squeaks evolved quickly into full-throated moans, and her first peak was upon her in barely over a minute. Her eyes flew open even as she squealed; that lover was not slowing down to let her pleasure pass, instead choosing that moment to ease one slick finger into her ass with a firm thrust, even as two sharp teeth closed gently upon the core of her pleasure, pain battling with ecstasy as both seemed to suffuse her every nerve from the growing pressure of those two points, her climax somehow lengthened and made all the more intense by the sharpness of near-agony, her hips rising involuntarily to press eagerly back against that half-cruel assault. Vision only grudgingly returned, another minute later; her eyes had been open the whole time, but unseeing as sensations of unprecedented intensity dominated her mind. “M... Mistress!” she finally managed in a ragged gasp. “That was... was...”\n\n\tSerra paused from licking her muzzlefur as she grinned, the tip of one tooth faintly pink from where she’d finally broken the skin of that clit, her finger still caressing gently within the slave’s rectum, “I know, dear. I learned that trick by having it used on me, after all.”\n\n\tHalf-rising to one elbow, the mouse kept panting as she looked between her lover and the blade still sitting on the table next to her, “I... I don’t think anything still in store for my mortal life will be able to compare to how that felt. That life...” She swallowed once, then continued more firmly, “That life is yours, whenever you choose to take it. I’m ready,” before relaxing back down.\n\n\tThe tigon nodded as she stood, nudging her seat back with her legs, and withdrew her finger just enough to join it with a second, the pair twisting as she caught the slave’s hood in the web of her thumb. “I thank you for your praise,” she rumbled with quiet honesty as her hand simply tensed and relaxed, a subtle massage that started her lover’s pleasure on its upward journey anew, though still blended with pain given her remaining sensitivity. “Your life, however, is not mine,” and she took the hilt of that fine dagger in her free hand. “It is Kathalla’s!”\n\n\tThe mingled pleasure and discomfort at her groin was still growing as those words sank in, just as the first severe pain of the razor-sharp point piercing her skin made itself known... right above her heart. With slow strength, the fine steel was pressed right through her breastbone, a gasped breath emerging as a protracted scream that was not entirely of agony, even as she felt the flutter of her own, racing heart against the cold metal. Pain like none she’d ever known marked the final penetration, warmth filling her chest and a strange pressure squeezing her lungs as her lifeblood was released within her, and she managed a half-gurgled, “Yes!!!” as her vision started to dim. Distantly, she could feel her sex and ass spasming against and around her Mistress’ paw, and she simply relished the flood of pure sensation for as long as her dwindling consciousness could hold onto it.\n\n\tWhen those pert, perfect breasts finally stilled, Serra pulled the dagger free and wiped it clean on white fur before offering it back to its owner with a smile. The fox’s gaze was respectful as he accepted and sheathed the blade, “I stand by everything I said, this night. It was an unusual, stimulating, and gratifying experience to see you in action, and when you can afford it, this knife will see far better use than I’ve ever made of it.”\n\n\t*That it will,* Kathalla’s voice reached the trio before Serra could do more than open her muzzle to reply. She shut it with a snap as her Goddess continued, *Little Fran asked Me to relay her thanks. Her death was everything she’d been promised, and more than she could ever believe, so she hopes her body satisfies when you turn it into meat.*\n\n\tThe tigon chuckled, “Fran? Good... It’ll be nice to have a name to associate with this evening’s very pleasant memories. Please tell her, my Goddess, that I’ll ask the kitchen to save her collar when they’ve cut off her head, and I’ll have her name engraved on it as I keep it as a memento forever.”\n\n\t*I’ll let her know,* the Fanged One replied, *once I can get her attention. Your last three sacrifices, as a group, have just found her, and are badgering her for any new tricks or techniques she might have learned at your hands, so it might be a while.*\n\n\tAcross the table, the newest Kathallic shook her head with a laugh, looking over the corpse’s pain- and pleasure-wracked face once more, “And thus she’s gone... but only to us, and I have to envy the ‘life’ she now leads.” Glancing up, she grinned, “It will take time and practice, my Goddess... but I’ll strive to live up to the wonderful example Your cat here provided.”\n\nChapter 5\n\n\tElaria blinked as the last two members of her staff finally joined the rest, breakfast already halfway through for most, and frowned at the lingering scents they brought with them, “Pria and Serra... you two have got to stop treating this like a vacation, even in ‘private’ and outside of working hours. What you do in your own quarters after dark is your own concern, but you two represent Lachier, in more ways than one! Your play yesterday I could forgive since we’d only just arrived and hadn’t settled in, but showing up late this morning and smelling of sex is simply unacceptable; if this happens again, I’ll dock you half a month’s wages, and a third time will see you on a boat headed home, along with the melted metal and broken gems of your badges. The king may have appointed you, but I do have the authority to fire you if you can’t maintain the dignity of your jobs.”\n\n\tThe two teens shared an abashed glance, then nodded, Pria replying, “I... we’re sorry. It’s just that this has felt like a vacation so far, with a little play-acting on the side. I didn’t even know we got wages; the allowance still in my purse, I believed, was exactly that, which only added to the holiday mood.”\n\n\tThe ambassador blinked with a bit of surprise herself, then nodded, her tone much gentler as she replied, “I guess we did rush up here a little too quickly to actually teach you otherwise... My earlier warning still stands, but I’ll see to it that you both get a copy of the embassy guards’ code of conduct, as well as the pay you really should have gotten before we even set sail. As Junior Agents, you make exactly half as much as an Agent trainee, which is to say three nobles a month for a stipend, and five nobles for mission funds when you’re deployed.”\n\n\tBoth girls blinking a bit as well, Serra asked, “Could I get my eight nobles as twelve florins, though? Along with my allowance, that puts me halfway to the price of a beautiful folded steel knife I met and used last night... and its current owner would probably be more comfortable if he didn’t fall under suspicion for having a large amount of foreign gold on him.”\n\n\tSomewhat surprised by the change of subject, Elaria nodded again, “We can do that... You imply that the blade in question is worth at least twenty nobles, so I’m curious to see it too. Who’s selling it?”\n\n\tThe tigon shrugged, smiling, “A nice gentleman fox, brother-in-law to a count, who shared my table at the club last night. I think he’s a potential ally; he doesn’t want war either, and he approved when his wife converted to Kathallicism then and there, at Her suggestion and after the example I’d set. And, yes, the knife’s worth it; my ‘test’ was a slow thrust through bone, that any lesser blade would have bent or broken under.”\n\n\tThe ambassador nodded more slowly as she considered that, “Doubly an ally, then... as our Goddess would not have gone recruiting among a family likely to betray us. Even if you were just there for some good, innocent fun,” and she grinned at the snorted laugh this elicited from several points around the table, “you did very well to make that kind of acquaintance. If you see him again and he offers names or introductions for others disposed toward our political position, please, cultivate them and report to me afterwards.”\n\n\t“Yes, ma’am,” came the reply, followed by a grin, “and I’m looking forward to it. His wife, the actual noble by blood of the couple, is a vixen your age, and there was much licking of lips amidst heated looks on her part. She obviously wants to sleep with me, and her husband’s far more amused than possessive over it. He’s pretty good-looking, too, so I won’t object if they want to share me some evening. I told them I’d start checking for them at the club nightly, once I’ve scrounged up the price of that knife.”\n\n\tElaria nodded firmly, “Good. Let’s give them two or three days just so nothing looks suspicious, then I’ll loan you the rest of the money myself.” She glanced over for Ronnel, “For the rest of this morning... your suggestion, last night, turned out to have much merit, once I’d slept on it like I said I would. After we’ve eaten, I’d like you to help me write that letter, and Pria can deliver it as soon as she’s bathed.” At her sister’s questioning look, she continued, “It’s about those definitions I mentioned yesterday and the hard line I’ll be taking. The situation’s actually even more complex than I first thought, with fewer real options, now that I realize that it’s a morally unjust act on the part of the government to conceal that information. My oath of knighthood demands that I do something, but most ways of going about it would come across as a direct threat in Keesanrel’s eyes, and I’d rather at least start negotiations on a... marginally more amiable footing. You just eat and wash up, and I’ll give you the details when I have them.”\n\n\t“Yes, ma’am,” the wolf nodded obediently.\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe king was already frowning as he stepped into the small, private dining chamber rather than joining the noon meal he normally took with his court, and asked as soon as he’d settled into the chair across from his cousin, “Your note sounded fairly serious... What is this about?”\n\n\t“It’s about that suggestion of the councilor for the fifth district that you adopted so enthusiastically,” Tyron replied, “the one concerning keeping details of our treaty with Vivenge a secret. I’d like you to think about that for a moment, not from the perspective of diplomacy and the ‘dirty tricks’ that tend to go without comment therein, but from the standpoint of basic justice. Would you, or would you not, call that policy completely ‘just?’”\n\n\tKeesanrel’s frown deepened as he considered, then shrugged, “Well, no, to be completely honest it’s not. It’s justifiable, on the principle of confidentiality, but the advantage it gives us in being able to customize other treaties in our favor is... a bit unfair, I’ll admit. Still, just like you said, it’s the next best thing to ‘business as usual’ on the international level, so I wasn’t planning to change that policy any time soon.” Toward the end of his reply, the king pulled his plate closer and started loading it with a few choice tidbits from the dishes between the two cougars; morning court had run a bit over its usual time, from various courtiers consulting with the recent addition to their number, asking about Lachier’s position on sundry matters of trade that meant something to the families they represented.\n\n\tNodding as he helped pour the wine, the wizard elaborated, “Well, I got a letter this morning that cast the situation in a new light. Not ‘new’ chronologically, but rather a point of view that had always existed but could cause a great deal of trouble if it were pointed out to others. You see, Malia’s entire chivalric order is sworn to justice, and if one of Her knights realizes that you’re enforcing an unjust policy, they will have literally no choice but to confront you about it. In fact, one such knight already has noticed, and for that same sense of justice she’s giving you a fair chance to change your mind on your own.”\n\n\tHis cousin blinked, swallowed the bite he’d been chewing, and scowled fiercely, “She? I have a shrewd notion of just which ‘knight’ you’re talking about, and she’s in no position to make demands! I still have veto power on the question list for any meeting, and I’m not going to throw away this useful a diplomatic weapon. Unless she wants to make a fool of herself by bringing it up when it’s not on any schedule, or be deported for spreading the word in public, she’ll just have to accept our position and like it!”\n\n\tTrying not to sigh, Tyron shook his head, “She can’t let it lie, your Majesty! Her oath of knighthood predates this post by nearly a decade, and supersedes her secular oath of office. Yes, just to make sure we’re all on the same page, I am talking about Dame Elaria, and the letter her sister delivered was written on sovereign ground and dispatched under her personal seal, not her official one, as is entirely proper. She can, and there are no grounds for objection here, send another just as easily... to the temple in town, to other churches elsewhere... or to the second-in-command of your palace guard, who took the same oath that she did. She’s trying to give you a graceful way out, but if you choose to ignore it, you’d better quadruple the troops you keep around you, as every Maliite knight in four nations will be dropping by to convince you otherwise, at sword-point if needed. You may have told your herald to strip her of every title he could get away with, but you can’t pretend that the other ones don’t exist; if she cares to exert it, in her own way she has more power and influence than you do. She’s made no threats and broken no laws, but she’s also not going to betray a Goddess just because you’re feeling put-upon.”\n\n\tThe juicy, flavorful chicken in his muzzle seemed bland and too dry to swallow, of a sudden, but the king forced it down anyway, “Then how do we respond? I’ve always known you were brighter than me, Ty, which is why I value your advice... Do we discredit her? Restrict her personal communications? Ask for a different ambassador? There’s got to be a way we can do this without just giving in like spineless cowards and handing them the treaty I told the empire’s man would stay safe.”\n\n\t“The point that I’ve been trying to get across,” the younger cat sighed, “is that we can’t win this one. She hasn’t asked for a copy of the treaty, just a list of terms and definitions that are changed therein, or in other words that we give up the ‘weapon’ that you yourself know is unfair and unjust. Any other option... would see you dead within a fortnight, and it will almost certainly be the hand of an Atherian which kills you, one who’s never even met anyone from Drachath. There is no conspiracy, merely a factual situation that a certain segment of our population would be obligated to do something about.” More gently, he urged, “Please... just give her the list. She’s willing to keep this entire discussion out of the public record, so you won’t lose a single scrap of face over it... but if you don’t, your reputation or that of the kingdom will be among the least of your concerns.”\n\n\tKeesanrel pushed his plate away, his fierce appetite having vanished and the few bites he’d managed sitting like lead in his stomach. “Tyron...” he finally murmured, staring down at the hands clenched in his lap, “is it really that bad? Are there any options for me other than humiliation, however personal and discreet, or death?”\n\n\tThe wizard shook his head sadly, “Not really... unless you want to denounce all current treaties, abandon hope for any others in the future, purge the devout from your guard and army entirely, and spend the rest of your life maintaining martial law and watching for assassins. That, I’m afraid, is the only third option I can come up with, and it would do none of us any good.”\n\n\tHis cousin, friend, and advisor could see just how hard it was to admit any sort of defeat, but the older man finally sighed and muttered, “Give her the list. I’m not hungry anymore,” before rising, picking up his wineglass, and making his way out.\n\n* * *\n\n\tElaria shot a pleased smile over toward the two girls joining the rest of the embassy staff for dinner, on time and in proper uniform. It seemed that the one warning had been plenty. “This afternoon’s meeting went pretty much as expected,” she told her aide as servants started carrying in steaming dishes. “The city’s baron, though he seems to prefer the title ‘mayor’ despite it being hereditary, and I simply stated our ‘positions’ for the record.” She grimaced a bit, “As important as it was, diplomatically, I privately felt like we were wasting our breath on both sides. I read that speech I’d been given about our two nations’ long history as if we’d always been bosom buddies, pretended we’d never had a war, and expressed my desire for a non-aggression pact and possible trade-related treaties as if they were completely new ideas, then he waxed eloquent on the same topics, in damned near the same words. As expected, no mention at all was made of the list Tyron gave me after lunch.”\n\n\tThe mink nodded, “No surprises, then, except for how you managed to get that list so quickly. The next step on the mayor’s part, assuming he follows previous patterns, is at least two days of ‘consulting with his government.’ Meanwhile, our legal staff,” and he nodded toward that quarter of the table, “is studying the new definitions intently, and playing with phrasings to see if any of the new terms are particularly tricky when two or three of them are in the same sentence. They’re also writing a duplicate of our last treaty, with just a few substitutions now that we’re all speaking the same language, on the off chance they try to surprise us with an immediate request for a formal proposal, and that should be done by tonight, but the complete analysis of all ramifications of the new terms will take at least a few days.”\n\n\tHis boss nodded back, “Good, then the day hasn’t been wasted. I’ll ‘consult’ as well, just summarizing our progress to date, or lack thereof, back to the capitol tomorrow morning. That list is, indeed, progress, so I should let them—wait, what’s that sound?”\n\n\tThe bottom-most crystal of the dining room’s chandelier was casting a red glow of its own atop its usual gleam, and a sustained, crystalline chime was growing in volume. The aide frowned, “That’s the embassy defenses, telling us someone is trying to push a remote sensory perception spell through our wards. They probably won’t succeed, and with this warning we’re not about to continue discussing sensitive business.”\n\n\tElaria nodded sharply, and barked across the table, “Pria! Find them!”\n\n\tThe wolf was already out of her seat and running for the hall, pulling a ‘decorative’ curtain aside and scrambling up the ladder it hid. More magic made her fur stand on end as she passed into the tiny, windowed turret sticking out of the roof, but that was the border of the defenses; without them in the way to block her own mage-sight, she peered intently around... Soldiers were already boiling out of the main building and up the stairs to the wall’s battlements, some still struggling to don pieces of armor; the alarm in the dining room wasn’t the only one that had gone off. They could not, though, see the faint trace of magic she’d spotted, so she opened one of the windows and yelled, “Archers! Target!” then pointed at an unlit window across the street, a bright line of harmless light-magic sent toward it the next instant.\n\n\tThe half-dozen troops with bows immediately followed her signal, and six arrows tipped with broad, man-killing war heads shattered the glass almost as one, the traces of the spying spell vanishing immediately as the mage was either struck or just startled out of their concentration. A heavy armor squad marched out of the gate toward the same building, swords drawn, and Pria let herself relax, only then noticing the pounding of her own heart. This had been exactly what her father had trained her for, magically; she’d never have his sheer power, but he’d done his best to teach her the subtleties of using what she had effectively... only, this time it had been real. The soldiers would handle the pursuit and arrest, she knew, so she closed her eyes, slowing her breathing and willing the trembling in her hands to still, then carefully made her way back down the cupola’s ladder.\n\n\tHer sister was waiting at the bottom, and nodded, “You found them.” Since the chandelier wasn’t screaming anymore, it wasn’t a question.\n\n\tPria swallowed hard as she nodded back, “Just across the street... Line-magic, as our courtyard’s a bit too broad for a remote-point projection, at least for anyone weaker than an archmage or a large, coordinated group. The troops are raiding the building now, to see who the archers shot or surprised.”\n\n\tRecognizing the signs, the vixen stepped closer to pull her sibling into a tight hug, murmuring, “Shh... it’s over, and you did great. I know exactly what you’re feeling, as I did a decade ago in Winter Wreath. Your first real fight is always the hardest... but remember, you didn’t freeze up or balk, and you did do every last inch of your duty.” She kissed the girl’s gray cheekruff, “Thank you!”\n\n\tBehind them, the mustelid aide asked, “Now that things are settled, or will be once our guards finish investigating, how would you like to respond, Ambassador? This counts as an attack on the embassy, as our information is considered as diplomatically ‘sacred’ as our lives or property.”\n\n\tReleasing the wolf whose pulse had finally returned to normal, Elaria grimaced, “This was pretty damned feeble and ineffective for an ‘attack,’ Meviran... It was stopped roughly forty seconds after the first hint of an alarm. Issue a protest for the ‘indignity of the assault,’ but have our most junior legal writer do it, and give it to the couriers with the usual morning mail unless some idiot on the other side tries protesting property damage or injury sooner. Also, offer to pay the building owner for their window repairs, and take the money from the embassy maintenance budget. Unless someone forces the issue, I want to treat this whole thing as an incident so minor as to be beneath my official persona’s notice.”\n\n\tThe mink was definitely starting to like his new boss’ style, and hid a smile behind his usual formal expression as he bowed, “As you wish, Ambassador.”\n\n\tBack to Pria, she continued, “Let’s go downstairs and see who or what the guards drag back. Depending on who they turn out to be, and their connections, I may have to change my mind on how to handle this.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe embassy’s healer was in attendance as two guards carried their prisoner into one of the small meeting rooms on the ground floor. Pria raised a hand in offering, and he nodded, letting her step up and grip his shoulder to start feeding him energy. The canid in his early twenties that the guards laid down on the table had been struck twice on the same arm, wrist and elbow joints shattered and bleeding badly. That bleeding was already slowing as the healer worked, but he glanced up to comment, “I’m not going to be able to save the arm. These sorts of injuries have to be treated very soon or the ligaments will never work again, and we’d need more healers and more mages to do it fast enough. I’ll need a blade, the sharper the better.”\n\n\tNodding, Elaria drew one of the swords she never took off except for bed, “I’ll do it. Above or below the elbow?”\n\n\tFishing a short leather thong out of his robe’s pocket, the medic tied it off just above the broken joint and answered, “Right below that, but give me a moment to fuse his bicep or it’ll be slithering around loose. Can’t save that tendon either, I’m afraid.” His eyes closed as he concentrated anew, even as he straightened the arm out along the table... and at his quiet, “Now,” the tip of that sword flashed down, cleaving through flesh and bone to wedge itself half an inch deep in the wood.\n\n\tThe half-conscious dog screamed, and the healer’s hand moved to his forehead, forcing his mind down into sleep.\n\n\t“He needs rest,” the doctor mused as he stood. “I know you’ll want to question him, but shock and blood loss would make that difficult. You’d get few answers if any before he died... If you can wait six hours, though, he’ll be in much better shape.”\n\n\tElaria nodded as she finished cleaning her sword, and sheathed it. “He can have the whole night, for all I care. On my authority, he stands convicted of attempted espionage against Drachathian territory, and he won’t be leaving any time soon. Take good care of him, and someone can talk to him after breakfast.” She glanced to the senior of the two guards still present, “Once his stump’s bandaged, search his clothes and the room he was in, and deliver anything significant to my suite in the morning. For tonight, put him in the guest room with the barred windows and the lock on the outside; he hasn’t, yet, earned the discomfort of our basement cell. Naturally enough, under no circumstances is he permitted outside of our walls and legal territory.”\n\n\t“Understood, ma’am,” the stocky wolf nodded.\n\n\tBack in the dining room, half-empty as those not directly involved in the emergency had finished their meal, the ambassador resumed her seat at the head of the table, grimacing a bit at the cooled and congealed gravy around her sliced beef. “I’ve had worse,” she muttered, and dug in anyway.\n\n\tAfter a shared glance with Serra, Ronnel asked, “Is there anything we should know about? Matters are, at least to some degree, obviously settled now that you’re back, but we can’t help being curious.”\n\n\tHis vixen swallowed and smiled warmly, “Nothing yet... We have one prisoner, who was injured fairly severely, but he’ll live. Questioning him and his possessions can wait ‘til morning. Until then, you know as much as I do.” Tilting her head as she gathered another bite on her fork, she mused with a glance to the wolf who was also retaking her seat, “We have the rest of the night to ourselves... but I’d like to invite my sister to join us, love, as both reward for her actions and comfort for their slight trauma.”\n\n\tTheir tigon friend looked a bit disappointed at her implied exclusion, but shrugged with a resigned smile, “You folks are a family... I’ll find some way to keep myself occupied tonight.”\n\n\tRonnel nodded with a soft chuckle, “Indeed we are... but perhaps we can work something out that includes you, some other eve. We only met you a week or so ago, after all. Just be patient, kitten.”\n\nChapter 6\n\n\tElaria paused at the door to her ‘honor guard’s quarters, hand raised to knock, when she heard a muffled squeal, followed by a breathy moan. Officially, she had to disapprove... but it was the girls’ lunch break, and it certainly sounded like eating was going on. Of a sort. Chuckling to herself, she knocked anyway and called, “It’s me.”\n\n\t“Come... come in!”\n\n\tOpening the door just enough to quickly slip inside, before any sounds or scents could escape, the vixen shut it again and had to smile at the sight of her sister, on the bed with her armor-skirt inverted and a pair of feline ears poking up between her thighs. “One more peak, kids, then I’ve got a job for you,” she told them around a grin as she took a seat.\n\n\tPria looked a bit disappointed at that, but only until Serra’s next lick, the bitch’s head lolling back with a groan. She’d been fairly close before the interruption, and the brief break from stimulation was somehow making the renewal even more enjoyable; she closed her eyes to better enjoy the sparks behind them as that raspy tongue delved deep, pressing hard against the upper reaches of her passage as it withdrew, even as the short fur of the tigon’s lips teased and titillated around her hood. Three more such long, deep caresses were offered, her spine arching and her breasts quivering atop her chest as tension rose, and her breath caught as the tongue withdrew entirely, lips closing gently around the core of her pleasure and just suckling, flesh against flesh with no rasps or even furs between... and she was there! The watching vixen mentally blessed the building’s thick walls and well-made windows, knowing that that howl of pure lust wouldn’t travel far, her own loins twitching in sympathy as she watched her sister’s pleasure-wracked face.\n\n\tTo Elaria’s surprise, at least, as soon as the girls had parted and passed a towel around, a quick, simple wipe left both thighs and muzzle completely dry and clean. While this certainly meant she wouldn’t have to chastise either one for their grooming, she couldn’t think of how it was physically possible, and she looked a question at the pair...\n\n\t“Magic,” Pria answered with a grin, still panting faintly, “and you’re probably wondering how I maintained my concentration to keep even a weak physical shield around our fur... Frankly, I didn’t. It’s something Daddy and I worked out; just like a stone, the very air can hold an enchantment, if not for nearly as long, and the power and focus were just left floating around while we played.”\n\n\tNodding, the vixen got to the point that had brought her here, “Hopefully it didn’t take enough energy to tire you out, because tonight you two have a mission.” Both Agents’ expressions immediately grew serious, and she continued, “The man we caught last night carried no identification and gave us a false name, and his description wasn’t in any of our records as he’s an extremely small fish in the local power structures... He also had the sense not to write down any names; the paper he’d prepared to transcribe our private conversations onto, had his spell made it past the wards, was addressed only to ‘my lord.’ He made one, tiny slip, though, and gave his real name to the owner of the rental offices across the street, and I had the sergeant who paid for the broken window do his math ‘wrong’ when converting national currencies, giving him Drachathian coin worth just over twice the Atherian price requested, the result of adding fifty percent twice. That owner, just as accidentally, let his tenant’s name slip, with good excuses in place should anyone try to charge him with accepting foreign bribes. We’re officially accepting the false name, and will be releasing our prisoner to local authorities after one more day of holding him on medical grounds, but we do know that he’s the apprentice of the house mage of Lophiel, councilor for the fifth district. His real name, at least, was in the files on the local political elite, included as a matter of principle.”\n\n\tSerra lifted a hand and, at her boss’ raised brow, asked, “What’s with these ‘districts,’ anyway? It sounds like something you’d see in a republic, not a monarchy...”\n\n\t“It’s not just their international relations that have been occasionally iffy, here in Atheria,” the ambassador replied. “A couple centuries back, the representatives of the eight duchies got into a bit more plotting than the crown really liked... so the king at the time pulled a fast one in return. Ostensibly for efficiency, he divided the capitol itself into eight districts and put the ducal representatives in charge of administrating them. Keeping an eye on their families’ interests had left them with entirely too much time for scheming, which these new duties cut into enough that the crown was able to keep control, while the families themselves initially saw only the small percentage of tax revenues they’d be getting to keep, and jumped at the chance for ‘free money.’ These days, those administrators make up the king’s advisory council along with the baron who officially runs the city, and have voting rights on any new law or policy issue, but the king himself keeps two votes, and the right to appoint anyone, and any number of anyones, as additional council members. Naturally enough, those councilors owing their positions to his patronage means that, on any important vote, Keesanrel will almost automatically get his own way.”\n\n\tPria snorted, “Sounds like a typical noble’s definition of a ‘balance of power.’ As in, nothing of the sort.”\n\n\tElaria shrugged, “Hey, he is the king, and things work about the same with our own Lachier, just not as... tangled. In any case, as this system applies to our current situation, the fifth district belongs to the Duchy of Urenhold, in the far northeast of the country. They have a great deal of trade with Vivenge, by land and sea alike, and most of the family was from that empire as of two generations ago. They’d be the least affected by a war between our nations in terms of impacting local economies and workforces, and they’ve got enough fingers in the arms trade to actually profit from it. Thus, your mission tonight will be to break into Lophiel’s manor house office if you can. We’ve got a waxing moon, but it’s barely a quarter strong at the moment, and it should be fairly overcast... practically perfect conditions. Make it look like a burglary, meaning I want you to take anything that looks valuable, but your main goal is to look for anything that looks like secure documents. Locked drawers or any sort of strongbox; if steps have been taken to protect something, we want it. If we can find proof of a conflict of interest, anything that clearly benefits Vivenge more than Atheria, it could prove very useful when and if our other negotiations hit a snag.”\n\n\tHer sister nodded, “I understand. There will probably be defenses in place, but I’m guessing that our biggest priority is to not get caught, so I’ll do my best but call things off if there’s no way through ‘em.”\n\n\t“Exactly. We’d like to prove that they’re working against the king, but we can’t afford to face the same charge, so you two be damned careful. Your lives and our king’s negotiating position are both more important than that proof you’re after.” At two more solemn nods, she smiled, “Now, you two go talk to Jayrel, that ‘corporal’ who has his own office near the barracks. He’s actually a colonel by rank, and in charge of our local covert operations, so he can get you some dark clothes with plenty of pockets.”\n\n\t“Among other things,” Serra added. “Maps would be nice, as we haven’t exactly had time to explore the city.”\n\n\tElaria nodded, “I’m sure he’ll have everything ready in time, since he presided over the interrogation this morning and we discussed your mission before I came here. Now, you two catch a nap at some point, as your target is known to be up working ‘til midnight or later with his various duties, so you’ll need to visit even later, and even Diral’s tea isn’t enough this time.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe maps ‘Corporal’ Jayrel had provided for their study had amazed both young ladies, since they were far more than just diagrams of the city streets. They’d also been marked with patrol routes of the city guard, color-coded for frequency over various times of day and night, and even the street lamps and their effective ranges were noted, so they’d been able to choose those alleys which offered the best concealment, and when one patrolman passed, they knew exactly how long they had before the next. For being in a strange city, and risking arrest simply for being out of the district they had any official business in, it was remarkably easy to get as far as the brick wall surrounding the manor house, and they crept through the narrow band of shadow left by the lanterns mounted along the guards’ walkway. Not far from the wing that was their goal, teeth shone briefly in the darkness in a shared grin as they both heard... Instead of the steady, booted tread of an alert sentry, faint snores came from directly above them, and they wasted no time in scrambling up the wall and over, past the slumbering form that would probably have some very hard questions to answer the next morning.\n\n\tCloser to the building proper, Serra let her friend take the lead, as this was the part where they were most likely to run into hostile magic. She had to admire the way the young wolf moved; she eased smoothly into each motion, never jerking from stillness to speed in a way that would catch the eye, even a cat’s night vision only barely able to keep track of her at close range. The guards along the wall came within four yards of the balcony they were aiming for, but at that range they’d have to know exactly what they were looking for to spot either of the dark-clad figures.\n\n\tThe duo crouching to either side of that balcony’s door, Pria breathed softly, “Idiots... This is one of the better alarm wards I’ve ever seen, but it only works on mundane tools or portable magic devices used by a non-mage. The field’s a perfect plane, and anything going through it would set it off, but it’s linked to the latch to turn it off, and there’s nothing to block a remote projection. Even I can manage six inches and a line from within! Spot for me, please?”\n\n\t“Alright,” the tigon nodded in the darkness, “but double-check! There could be a backup that senses any change in magical ambiance inside, and your remote line could trigger something like that.”\n\n\tEven as she turned to watch the sentries, she heard a soft gasp, “Shit! You’re right! Gonna have to push and pull at the same time, that spell looks sensitive... but it stops just before the door, just so the alarms won’t set each other off.”\n\n\tTwo guards were marching directly away, and it was a third’s turn to peer intently out into the night, so Serra hissed, “Now!” and kept even closer watch in case a head turned unexpectedly... but the situation held for the long moment it took, a faint click and a quick tug on her sleeve telling her when to turn and slip through the barely-open door.\n\n\t“Latch it,” Pria instructed, “as at least one of those guards is carrying something magical. If it’s a simple detector that he uses to periodically check that the wards are up, we’re screwed as long as this one’s down.” The cat nodded as she fastened the latch, feeling the faint hum as the arcane defenses were restored, and ducked to one side, out of view from the door’s glass to wait patiently. Peering around the utter blackness, the wolf murmured, “Right wall, middle, four feet up, there’s a hollow behind a painting with a steel box, locked, no spells. Lower left desk drawer, it’s got a signature-stone lock. Front half of the drawer has papers, back half has another locked box, smallish and warded. Both top drawers have dense metal and hints of crystal, looks like coins and jewelry.”\n\n\tNodding as she moved to carefully, silently lift down the painting, Serra whispered, “I’ll pick this. Can you bypass the other lock?”\n\n\tA barely-audible chuckle floated through the air, “No, but someone got ripped off on this desk. The top and drawer-fronts are oak, I can tell just from the scent, but the frame’s cunningly-stained pine. We’ll save that for last in case someone’s got sharp ears; I can break it fairly quietly, but that ambiance-spell won’t let me muffle it.”\n\n\tSerra laughed quietly to herself, even as she slipped her tension bar into the lock and started probing for tumblers with the pick in her other hand, “Good plan. Remember our cover, and just empty those top drawers into your pockets while I work.”\n\n\tThe lock finally clicked and turned under her touch, and she cupped the back of the lid to better control her lift, the motion needing to be smooth and angle-neutral when her nose was certain that the hinges hadn’t been oiled recently. Her fingertips reported several bundles of parchment and a folder of loose sheets, each quietly slipped into a black bag, then her eyes widened at the feel of several long, smooth metal bars, slightly heavier for their size than even gold when she carefully lifted one free. She couldn’t be certain until she got them back to where she could examine them in good light, but it certainly felt like it was a small fortune in platinum that she was lifting out piece by piece, slipping the bars into individually padded pockets inside her shirt. Pulling the drawstring closed on the bag of documents, she slung it over her shoulder and turned toward her accomplice to whisper, “Done here.”\n\n\t“I got a purse out of one drawer, but the rest turned out to be badges awaiting signature spells, nothing better than semiprecious stones and thin gilding,” Pria reported, disgust audible in her tone. “Open another bag and hold it for me... Assume someone hears and that we have less than a minute after I break the lock; I’ll load the papers as quickly as I can, and we’ll take the second box whole to deal with at our leisure, somewhere that setting off its alarm won’t matter. I’ll need to pour some power into the air as we leave, as much as is in the spell that’s leaving with us, and that will be fairly tricky, but it shouldn’t dissipate enough to register for at least an hour.”\n\n\tThe tigon nodded in the dark, “Bag’s ready, just under the desk’s top. I can see the nearest guard from here, just about to turn... there! Now or never, lover!”\n\n* * *\n\n\tSerra’s breath and heartbeat finally slowed to normal as she closed the trapdoor in her shared room from the escape tunnel they’d come home through, “Whew... That wasn’t my first break-in, but I was usually only after a document or two. Two bags of paper and parchment and those heavy bars I found add up, when I have to sneak several miles with them.”\n\n\t“This iron box wasn’t exactly light, either,” Pria agreed. “I’m glad we were on our way out so I could use those knock-out darts. They’re light, and easy to levitate through a gap in someone’s armor, but you’ve only got a few minutes before someone notices that half the sentries aren’t moving anymore, so they’re useless on the way in.” Setting the box aside, she sat down on the bed and asked, looking curious, “And ‘bars?’ What did you find in that box?”\n\n\tThe feline joined her and reached into her shirt, pulling one of her prizes out to finally look at, “Can you test this for me? I know what it looks like, but...”\n\n\tHer own eyes wide, Pria nodded and held her hand over the metal, a visible glow extending slowly as a line that touched then penetrated the bar, and she hissed, “Damn! It’s pure alright. This energy mix is blocked by lead, and it’s not even dimming! That has to be a solid pound, right there.”\n\n\tThe tigon shook her head in wonder, “And there were twelve of the things! By my math, that’s four hundred and eighty gold nobles worth!” She frowned, “There’s no way I can break this into smaller change without suspicion... For this moment, I’m filthy rich, and can’t do a damned thing with it!”\n\n\tHer lover grinned, “You can’t, but I’m sure either Elaria or Jayrel can figure something out. The documents that were in the same box, though... there’s a good chance they’ll explain just how Lophiel came to have those bars, and that kind of thing is exactly the information we were after. We did pretty good, tonight... and, before I forget, I wanted to thank you for helping me find the second alarm. I honestly hadn’t even thought to look for that sort of thing.”\n\n\tSerra shrugged, a wry smile on her muzzle, “I ran afoul of one a lot like it, once. My first couple jobs like this in Stonecliff, I had a magical lockpick, but the third time I used it I barely escaped when it triggered a raucous screech. I’d checked the lock itself with another gadget, but that sort of detector doesn’t have to be immediately nearby. The experience as a whole was my cue to buckle down and learn to open things the hard way.” Her smile softening, she added, “And thank you for everything you did... My techniques would never have gotten us past the balcony door, and being able to find everything that was locked, hidden, or warded saved a great deal of potentially noisy searching. All other things being equal, time is a thief’s greatest enemy, and getting in and out, fast, with exactly the right loot, was invaluable.”\n\n\tThe wolfess’ nod was interrupted by a sudden yawn, ending in a snap as she shut her muzzle, blinking... “Guess our afternoon nap’s worn off,” she mused. “Just in case there’s something in place that’ll let them track this box, I’m going to run downstairs and use the short-range spellbreaker they keep for expiring official document seals, then we can get a bit more sleep. We’ll have to be up and normal-looking in time for morning court; once a break-in someplace that potentially sensitive is reported, the absence of someone like us would become very noteworthy.”\n\n\tHer friend gave a comic grimace, “Guess we’ll actually have to sleep, for once. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow night.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tOnce the sun had come up, and as the girls joined the rest of the staff for breakfast, Elaria told them with a grin, “I don’t know any of the specifics, yet... but Jayrel was practically drooling over some of the documents you brought back. I eagerly await his report, as you evidently managed to collect some very, very juicy secrets that had been so carelessly laying around.” She pointed at a teapot near their seats, “Have some of that, for now. It’s a special blend that should keep you from looking like you were up half the night.”\n\n\tPria snorted as she poured herself and her friend some of the indicated tea, “Hardly just ‘laying around’... That place was damned tight. It took both my magic and Serra’s longer experience; anyone else would never have made it through the door, and even if they managed that, that little purse was all they’d have been safe stealing. Attempting to move any of the rest would have gotten them caught, easily, after the fact.”\n\n\tThe vixen nodded soberly, “I fired up the tiny gate we’re allowed, mainly meant for obtaining royal signatures quickly, and sent the whole pile of platinum to Fariach, as selling it here would be the next best thing to suicide, as you say.” She glanced to the other Agent, “I know you didn’t get your hopes up... but I’ve got good news anyway. A solid half of the bars’ fair value, in unremarkable Drachathian coin, will be coming in the next diplomatic pouch, and every last farthing is yours to split with your accomplice. That’s actually even more fair than it sounds, since most of what you’re not getting, you’d have to pay anyway in income tax on a fortune like that, and that’s exactly how Lachier’s treasurer will treat it.”\n\n\tSerra nodded, blinking at her unexpected good fortune, “I guess I’ll be able to pay you back for that knife I’m buying!”\n\n\tBlinking a bit herself, the wolf beside her added, “If we’re splitting things, then I guess I should do the same with that purse. I only glanced through it to check for anything unusual, but it was just gold and silver, perhaps thirty or forty local monarchs and florins and as many silver pennies and marks.”\n\n\t“Maybe not a fortune, but still pretty damned good for a night’s work,” one of the legal staff chuckled across the table, and several staffers grinned as the food was carried in.\n\n\tThe meal nearly over, and thoughts of the day’s routine prominent on many expressions, one of the on-duty guards slipped in, padding up between the ambassador and her aide to murmur a quiet report. Both senior staffers looked a bit startled at whatever he’d told them, but Elaria’s eyes grew thoughtful, then determined as she nodded to herself. “Serra and Pria, get your swords, then join Meviran and me downstairs. Just for your usual honor guard roles; I don’t think you’re in trouble yet.” She smiled faintly at the way they relaxed at that clarification. “Tyron, the court wizard, is requesting entrance to the grounds, but accompanied by only one guard for his own protection and the dignity of his station. They’d have brought far more if they were going to try to extradite someone by force. As the one member of the king’s council who’s most actively spiritual, trying to keep them from stepping too hard on various churches’ toes, I’m inclined to bend the rules where he’s concerned, and grant him a relatively private meeting on our territory.”\n\n\tThe girls weren’t the only ones who needed a quick adjustment of their accessories, as the ambassador attended private meals in just the light armor she normally wore under her more formal robes with the sword-slits in the back, but it took less than ten minutes for everyone to finish their meal, complete their official attire, and gather in a meeting room almost identical to the one commandeered as a field surgery a day and a half earlier.\n\n\tTyron was already seated, his guard standing at parade rest against the wall behind him, and Elaria’s companions took up identical stances to either side of the door as she seated herself and nodded across the small table, “Good morning. Of those who I’ve met so far at court, you seem the least addicted to formality for its own sake, so why don’t we skip all that nonsense and get right to the reason for your visit?”\n\n\tThe cougar chuckled despite himself, and nodded back, “Alright, and thank you. I’m afraid I’ll have to start a bit slowly, as the situation’s somewhat muddled and no one seems to have the whole story, so I’ll have to get another piece or two from you before I know just what to ask, or even whether to ask anything else. It’s an obvious assumption that you questioned that purported spy you sent a protest about, yesterday morning. Have you determined his identity, and did he tell you anything useful?”\n\n\tElaria shook her head, “Not really... He’s obviously a fairly decent mage, though he just as obviously overestimated his own skill when it comes to sneaking through defensive wards. He could even be called ‘harmless,’ as seen after the fact, but when the alarms go off, restraint is not the first option, so he was fairly seriously injured by our guards’ immediate response. Despite immediate medical attention once he was in custody, he lost his left arm above the elbow, which he frequently mentioned as a reason not to cooperate, so all we know is that he’s a mixed-breed canine, collie being the most distinctive aspect of his features, and that the name he reluctantly gave us was Arkerel. We’d been planning to hand him over to the local constables for trial, later this very morning.”\n\n\tThe wizard shook his head, grimacing, “Sounds like Kerelar, alright.” At the curiously-tilted head across the table, he shrugged, “That’s his real name, I’m fairly certain, and he’s always thought himself far more clever than he really is. Anyone truly clever would have known better than to try to breach an embassy’s magical defenses undetected, and giving a false name that’s a twist of his own, so he can claim a slip of the tongue rather than a lie, is also just the sort of hare-brained idea he’d come up with. Regarding his injuries, he’s damned lucky just to be alive, and I’ll be making sure he knows it once he’s released, on his way to the local gaol. Assaulting your sovereign soil was arguably an act of war, and a quick and lethal response was entirely warranted, which I’ll remind the king of if I have to.” At the ambassador’s nod, he shifted the subject slightly, “His identity... is related to some other events last night, at least peripherally, because he’s the apprentice to the house wizard of one of our council representatives. That councilor... is now dead, apparently by his own hand. His office was burglarized during the night, a great deal of money and a number of documents taken, and the story I was told of his reaction to the news was... disturbing. He personally inspected the scene of the crime, observers reporting him as ‘unnaturally calm,’ then returned to his chambers. He gently dismissed the whore who’d shared his bed the night before, closed and locked the door, and a few minutes later his guards heard a brief exclamation of pain through it, then no response when they knocked. When they finally broke the door down, he was sitting on his bed, slumped over the dagger he’d driven into his own heart, with no evidence of anyone else having been present. Morning court is canceled today while our investigators look into things, but I strongly doubt they’ll find anything. I inspected his defenses myself in an attempt to determine how they’d been breached, and his house wizard is very nearly as good as I am; I can’t think of how anyone got through them without setting off an alarm in the first place, so anyone that skilled wouldn’t have left anything more than a fur or two behind, and the office has far too many visitors over the course of its regular business to catch them that way.”\n\n\tEyes artfully wide, the vixen shook her head in apparent wonder, “It can’t have been the loss of the money that triggered his reaction... Even if, for some reason, he’d kept the bulk of his liquid assets in that particular room, councilors aren’t known for being poor. Just selling a painting or two from elsewhere in the house would keep his estate running until whatever source of income he enjoyed paid its next dividend.” She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, “It has to be those documents you mentioned... The obvious inference has to be that, in the hands of a rival or such, they contained information that would be so damaging that suicide was the preferable option.”\n\n\tTyron nodded again, “That, I’m afraid, is my own conclusion as well. He was known as one of the king’s strongest supporters for...” and he coughed delicately, “an ‘unpopular policy’ that happens to directly relate to you and your mission here, and his family connections are... mildly suspect in several related ways. This entire situation could still be one huge coincidence, some master thief incidentally looting a strongbox the day after a somewhat distant association with illegal espionage comes to light, but we can’t assume anything. As at least some aspects of this mystery are of concern to your embassy and its legitimate security concerns, I’ll be doing my best to keep you informed, at least of any detail that doesn’t directly impact my nation’s security.”\n\n\tA new thought had oozed into Elaria’s mind as he spoke, and she considered it carefully, rolling the idea around, watching it, tasting it... and she found it good. Even as she reached up to her neck and started pulling off necklaces, she mused in a thoughtful tone, “I think... I’ve just gotten the sort of nudge that, as a priestess rather than ambassador, it’s my duty to listen to and follow up on. Our formal meeting is at an end. There is more I would like to discuss, though, that you will very much want to hear, but it has to be entirely off of the official record. Can you tolerate that? It’s technically a deception, I know, but it will be worth it.”\n\n\tThe cougar’s eyes were wide as she set aside her Kathallic and Roxanite pendants, and even the large, gold casting of the royal crest of Drachath, leaving only the face of Malia looking out from the backdrop of her blade dancer amulet. Without warning, he turned in his seat and gestured, his guard’s features stiffening and his eyes locking onto nothingness. “Priestess,” he murmured respectfully as he turned back, “you have my undivided attention, and that spell also wiped the last minute or so of this man’s memory. He’ll simply think he wasn’t paying attention for a moment, when I release him from it.”\n\n\tNodding in return, she glanced over her shoulder, “Serra, go visit the ‘corporal’ and bring back the most damning thing he’s got.” As the tigon simply blinked once then hurried to comply, she smiled to the wizard, “We already knew Kerelar’s name, thanks to a well-placed bribe, and, yes, we knew he worked for Lophiel, whom you were wise to not mention directly, in the hopes of catching a slip on our part. No matter how minor and ineffective the probe of our defenses was, I wanted to know who was behind the obvious sacrificial goat we’d captured, so I took several additional steps...” Glancing up as her ‘guard’ returned, Jayrel’s office just two doors away, she accepted the offered packet of parchment, glanced inside to double-check the contents, and set it on the table before continuing, “Thus, the burglary you reported wasn’t news to me, though the suicide certainly was, and we’ve got a better idea than most as to why he did it.” She slid the packet across the table to within his reach, explaining, “This was to be Lophiel’s next report to his family. Not to his brother, the duke, though it would have passed through that worthy’s hands in transit, but to his extended family... in Vivenge. It contains transcripts of confidential council meetings, reports on the private dealings of other councilors, and a few details gleaned from more embassies than just this one. In short, the contents of that packet, and other documents recovered last night, would build a very good case for high treason, against both the councilor and his brother.” Smiling, she gestured to either side behind her, “I’d like you to meet your ‘master thief,’ in the form of these two young ladies. They took anything that looked valuable, too, just to muddy the waters and make it look more like an ordinary robbery, but that also brought to light a detail that pertains to your interests, that the councilor wasn’t even working entirely from loyalty to Vivenge, either. He sent these collected reports off every two months, and in return received a one-pound bar of the purest platinum, each time. In short, he was the worst sort of traitor, loyal only to his own comfort and prosperity.”\n\n\tTyron’s expression was of growing disbelief and even pain, as if he desperately wished what she said wasn’t true, but the news jibed all too well with what he already knew. Blinking away a hint of tears, he asked quietly, “And may I have your oath to that effect?”\n\n\tThe priestess nodded, touching her amulet, “In Malia’s name, I swear that everything I told you since asking that our speech be kept off the record is true. In Her name and as your sister in Her service, I also swear that the documents before you were found in the manor office of Lophiel, in two boxes, one warded and in a mage-locked drawer of his desk, the other merely hidden and locked.”\n\n\tHer guest nodded sadly and wiped his eyes, then sighed and picked up the packet to tuck into his robe, “I’m obligated, then, to bring these directly to the Magistrate General to initiate a formal investigation for treason, then inform the king.” He glanced up at the two ‘guards’ with such surprising abilities, then back, “I’ll do my best to keep your name, and those of your staff, out of it... but Keesanrel’s already suspicious of you, and prejudiced, all for bad reasons, but they’re there. If things calm down enough for me to do so, I’d very much like to ask those young ladies how they got past such comprehensive defenses, but my oath as the king’s vassal, as well as my promise to our Lady about justice back when I became a novice, demand that I see to more important matters first.” He gestured at the guard behind him, still motionless save for breathing, “Put your necklaces back on so this fellow doesn’t notice anything when I release him in a moment... but, thank you. You’ve done my nation a great service, even if the king would vehemently disagree.”\n\nChapter 7\n\n\tSerra stepped into the lethal room of the playclub, a couple hours earlier than her last visit, but with a ‘day off’ from court’s cancellation she had time to spare. Of course, this time her lunch had been at a regular hour, delayed neither by duty or from the knowledge that it took time to kill, clean, and cook a sacrifice; showing up for supper hungry, here, was just counterproductive. Her partner in crime was, that very moment, investigating the ‘naughty’ room, and she planned to join her there once she’d checked whether... there! The vulpine couple she’d previously met was at a different table, and the vixen had doffed her skirt to better enjoy her husband’s lap and opened breeches, but they were there.\n\n\t“Out enjoying the unexpected, mmm, holiday? Hrf, we had the same... same idea,” the fox mused in greeting, a bit distracted by the curvaceous bundle in his lap, and it only got worse as she sank down far enough to engulf his knot, his head lolling back with a quiet moan.\n\n\tSerra recognized the technique; that woman wasn’t moving an inch, but her insides were giving him the most intimate of massages, a trick that took a great deal of practice and exercise. Even the tigon was still building her strength and control, there, and had nowhere near enough experience to try bringing off a man by vaginal muscles alone... but the vixen did, her mate’s moan rising to a good effort at a lupine howl.\n\n\tThe cat pulled out a chair and relaxed onto it, waiting for the pair to finish enjoying themselves, then spoke as both pairs of eyes looked to her curiously, “With the fun we had the other night, we never got around to introductions. I’m Corporal Serra, late of the Stonecliff City Guard, daughter of Count Stonecliff, and half-sister to Baron Lark’s Reach, though in this kingdom I suppose you’d call them a baron and earl respectively.”\n\n\tThe lady of the pair, still in her husband’s lap and not even having moved to pull off of his shaft, nodded, “Yours must be an... interesting noble family, city, or both, if you weren’t granted an officer’s rank just for who you’re related to. Young braggarts with far humbler connections than yours, I’ve heard boasting that they’d make captain just for signing up. In any case, to return the favor, I am Fayette, and my mate goes by Coram.”\n\n\tSerra nodded, “Thank you. And it’s... sort of the city that’s weird, but it’s my family’s fault. My father’s first wife... had some problems that spilled out over the rest of the county, and ended up being executed for treason, while his second wife, my mother, went out of her way to fix the problems the first had caused, entirely from principle. Since Stonecliff had had the reputation of being one of the least-trustworthy holdings to do business with, we’ve had to go to the opposite extreme to regain our image, and my specialty, off the record, was arranging disgraces or accidents, the latter usually fatal, for anyone who might tarnish our new reputation with their acts. It’s a good thing I didn’t mind starting at the bottom when I enlisted... My recruiter was sweating right through his armor, obviously curious as to whether I’d ask for a high rank, but knowing that if he offered one, I’d probably have to kill him... which brings us, if not exactly neatly, to the main reason for my visit.” She lifted a small, heavy coinpouch from her belt and grinned as she dropped it on the table with a clink, “Thirty florins, as agreed. I’d like to buy that deadly little beauty your husband carries.”\n\n\t“Hand it over, dear,” Fayette practically purred, leaning back to stroke her cheek along her mate’s muzzle. “You can’t tell me we can’t afford that new silk dress I want, anymore... and I’ll even be nice and keep the promise I made when I first saw it, and not wear anything under it for the first week.”\n\n\tThe fox rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he reached for the small of his back, wiggling a bit as he worked free the hook securing the sheath to his belt. He leaned forward as far as his lapmate allowed, sliding the knife across the table and dragging the coinpouch closer as he nodded, “I’ll miss that one... but I sent a letter to my father yesterday morning, assuring him I was getting a decent price for it. Whatever he has handy should arrive in two or three weeks, and he doesn’t make bad knives. His ‘low-end’ wares require at least a week of hard labor each, and I’ll be proud to wear whatever he chooses.”\n\n\tSerra had to chuckle softly, “And to think that some people think that math is boring... A few weeks to produce something that sells for more than most commoners make in several years? Normally, a blacksmith’s job isn’t particularly glamorous... but I’m guessing Fayette’s family had something of an epiphany when they sat down and calculated just how much your dad makes. Any resistance they might have had to a count’s sister marrying a ‘mere craftsman’ probably suffered a slight accident at that point.”\n\n\tNodding, Coram tilted his head, “Are you sure you’re just a corporal? You’ve just guessed the major details of my courtship, accurately I should add, from just the sketchiest of clues. That really sounds more like a sergeant’s thinking, and everyone knows they’re the ones who really run militias and armies.”\n\n\tMentioning her ‘off the record’ activities, she was starting to realize, had been a mistake, and reiterating them to emphasize that she wasn’t exactly a normal corporal was out of the question. As friendly as this couple seemed, keeping her status as an Agent a secret, even if a trainee outranked her, had been rather strongly implied recently. A moment’s thought provided an alternative answer, and she temporized as she reached to accept the knife, “Even with parental dispensation, there’s a certain pace to things in my county’s militia, and since I didn’t enlist in the consular service to begin with, the embassy is taking its cues from the rules I’m used to. In another month or two my performance will be reviewed, and if found satisfactory I’ll advance one rank, no more and no less. It’s fairly certain that I’ll be a sergeant at that point; no matter how gifted I may be, along the lines you just pointed out, my age and seniority are the real deciding factors.”\n\n\tFayette chose that moment to slip off of her husband’s lap, picking up her skirt and stepping carefully back into it, all without a hint of flashed pink from the feline’s perspective. There was one brief glimpse behind her, of dusky red as the fox refastened his breeches, but he’d almost entirely retreated into his sheath by that point. The discretion they showed raised a curious itch in Serra’s mind, but she decided to look into it later.\n\n\t“My fellow honor guard,” the tigon mused, “is also my girlfriend to some degree... and she’s waiting for me in the naughty room. Well, maybe not waiting, but she’d probably like me to join in with whoever she’s ravishing.” She tucked the knife into a belt pouch that also held a couple of wash cloths and a compactly-folded silk skirt in case her current dress got stained, then rose and offered her hand, “She does come to rooms like this one sometimes... but, with or without her, I’ll see you two again, here or in court.”\n\n\tBoth vulpines nodding and chuckling, they each gripped her hand lightly in turn then turned a speculative eye on the lines of slaves, a bit diminished since they weren’t the only courtiers with extra time on their hands, the fox murring, “So we shall, and have fun.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tAccompanied by her honor guards, each wearing the legal limit of three knives, though the new addition was shorter than custom would have allowed, Elaria drifted through the milling nobles. She paused several times as a hand raised toward her, politely answering whatever question that courtier had, but kept her general progress steadily toward the throne. The seneschal moved to intercept her as she neared, filling in for the Consular General while he was in meetings with another delegation, and she murmured quietly to him, “I wish to submit a proposed treaty to the king. It’s... pretty much identical to the one he had with Burtak, but with updated phrasings to reflect recent changes in formal language. Also included will be the results of a recent survey of our entire mutual border, confirming landmarks, lines, and crossing-points.”\n\n\tThe middle-aged wolverine nodded, “I’ll accept them in my liege’s name... but he might not be able to immediately give them the attention they deserve.” He glanced over at the cougar and his strained, pensive expression, “Our king is, quite understandably, somewhat distraught and distracted, given the events of recent days. He never suspected that Duke Urenhold, nor any member of his family or staff, could be disloyal, but the evidence that was uncovered is fairly incontrovertible. This is also, indirectly, why you’re speaking to me and not Baron Greldan, as that worthy is closeted with the ambassador from Vivenge, attempting to determine whether they knew that one of their nobles was on the receiving end of this chain of information.”\n\n\tThe princess donned a faint, calculated frown, “I understand how this sort of situation can, quite legitimately, complicate the usual pace of government and diplomacy, but that’s also related to the survey results I’m delivering. My nation shouldn’t have to invest the time and effort in ‘confirming’ such details, as if the death of our king could possibly change the course of rivers... and no matter how genuine it appears on the surface, with the long history of petty delays ending in war between our nations, this crisis’ timing has to be viewed as... suspicious.”\n\n\tShe hadn’t raised her voice from the approved volume for a ‘private’ conversation in a crowded room, but this close to the throne she hadn’t needed to. The king stiffened in his seat, his introspective expression replaced by one of anger, and he rumbled, “You think... that I’ve somehow created this situation, just to keep you from offering me a treaty? A member of my council and a personal friend of mine is dead, one of his trusted servants maimed for life at the hands of your guards, and all you can think about is accusing me of stalling?”\n\n\tGlancing up to meet his gaze, his addressing her directly having changed the legal footing of the situation entirely, Elaria shook her head, “I make no such accusations, but politics is a game of appearances. I simply state a fact, that my king and his council will have to view this situation askance. I’ve not yet received any directives to change any aspect of my mission or its policies, the confirmation of the treaty in my guard’s pouch, or one very much like it, still my only goal, but if any more ‘coincidental’ delays crop up, I’m almost certain my orders will change.”\n\n\tKeesanrel seethed inside; she was entirely correct about their countries’ mutual history and the delays his kingdom had manufactured, as well as the appearances of the situation... but, damn it, this time it wasn’t his fault! Saying so, however, by those same standards of appearances, would come across as a tacit admission of the artificial nature of all their previous negotiations. She’d definitely won this round... so he seized upon the only, tiny opening she’d left in her verbal defenses, “This is not a game... which you, personally and for Lachier, would do well to remember. I will tolerate only so much abuse, even inferred, against the dignity of this throne, and for this day you’ve reached my limit.” Glancing between his seneschal and wizard, he half-bowed, “Tyron, Yarenel... you may continue court without me. For the sake of my temper and its potential repercussions, I should retire.”\n\n\tEven as the big man gathered his personal guard and left, passing his silent wife and ignoring the murmurs rippling through his court, priestess and wizard shared a glance and a nod, the cat’s somewhat sad. He didn’t like doing this to his cousin... but he knew as well that it was necessary for the principles he held dear, and that a peaceful final outcome seemed just that little bit more likely as a result.\n\n* * *\n\n\tConversations trailed off as the ambassador stepped through the back door of the playclub’s ‘naughty’ room, though a number of moans, slurps, and lusty grunts still filled the air, from those too ‘occupied’ to pay much attention. The stage in this chamber was only token, being a place for slaves to gather and having a slightly larger featherbed on the floor than the others scattered around the large room. The tables, too, were smaller, so the vixen chose one with only a single, clothed occupant, padding over and asking politely, “Could you find another seat, please? I’ve just received a... somewhat unusual request for a meeting, and if my suspicions are at all correct, the other party will wish... well, not privacy perhaps,” and she glanced around with a smile, “but at least the closest semblance thereof to be found, here.”\n\n\tThe well-dressed bat nodded, “Of course, ma’am,” and stood, glancing around. Another table’s lone occupant, a mink, had been observing them, and batted her eyes with a shy smile, so his ears immediately perked up as he stepped around one occupied mattress toward her.\n\n\tSpeaking just loud enough to be heard from her position behind her sister, Pria asked, “What’s this about? You didn’t get a note or any sort of signal I could see, but... I felt something, just after the king left, that I’m not sure how to describe.”\n\n\tOne brow raised in mild surprise, Elaria replied, “Interesting... Your association with Roxanarra is stronger than you think, dear. Someone in that throne room prayed to Her, and She responded, relaying a simple, very humbly-phrased request for a meeting here. As a full priestess, I noticed both halves of the conversation, and I think you’ll find our visitor even more surprising than this sudden blossoming of priestly perceptions on your part.”\n\n\t“Speaking of Roxanarra and Her associated acts,” Serra murmured from the other side behind her, “I’d been meaning to mention... I think my friends in the Openheim family are under some sort of suspicion or scrutiny. Despite the nature of the room we’ve met in, they’ve been as proper and discreet as possible. I only, and briefly, saw even one hint of furless flesh when they were fucking in the chair, and that’s not easy to manage, so I don’t know why they’d bother unless it meant something to someone else. They still had public sex, and even if I missed the actual acts, Fayette has killed more than once in that room, but...”\n\n\t“But it’s worth noting if they’re going to any effort at all to reduce the number or degrees of observers’ reports,” the vixen concluded for her with a nod. “Thank you, and I’ll have the corporal look into it. Kathalla accepted her, so on at least her part we can discard the suspicion that she’s just pretending to be like us to get closer, but I’ll have to check both for hostile observation of the couple and the distant possibility of deception on the husband’s part, you understand.” The nod this fetched was a bit grudging, the tigon obviously not wanting to think ill of her new friends, but it also acknowledged that the ambassador had to be that suspicious. Elaria’s ears perked up the next moment, “Ah, our guest is arriving!” Two seconds later, the door opened.\n\n\tOne of the elite palace guards preceded the cloaked figure, another following behind, and the pair took up positions to either side of the entrance, off-hands on the hilts of their sheathed swords. The cut of their charge’s outer garment was that of any common traveler’s cloak, but it was made of pure, emerald-green satin, and as the stranger reached up to pull back the cowl, half the patrons in the room scrambled to their feet, dripping erections and all. The queen’s eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as the diamond tiara on her head, with suppressed mirth at catching so many of her courtiers trying to show proper respect under the circumstances, but she waved graciously with one paw, “Don’t let my little visit interrupt your fun, my friends...” and her eyes narrowed, “but, also, do not mention this visit to my husband. That includes you spies,” and she pointed distinctly to three figures in turn, “or, on top of formal charges for betraying a royal confidence, I’ll tell your boss just how much of your high wages and expense accounts are being used as little more than an excuse to screw slaves all day. Our king’s commands can override even my own, so I don’t expect you to lie if directly ordered to tell him where I was today, but I order you not to volunteer that information!”\n\n\tOf those gathered for fun that afternoon, it was the well-off commoners in the group who managed to most easily obey the directive to get back to what they were doing, and a few chuckles were had at the expense of three or four nobles who were having trouble getting erect again with their queen watching. All but one case of impromptu impotence, though, was cured when the queen reached Elaria’s table and slipped out of her cloak, as she’d worn little more than a very skimpy pair of underdrawers and a translucent negligee beneath it, several nobles caught staring far too long before their wives or playmates reclaimed their attention. That cougar was far more buxom than her modest court gowns had ever shown, the thin gauze doing little to obscure the perfectly-rounded orbs beneath, and nothing at all to restrain their pendulous sway as she took her seat.\n\n\t“Your Majesty,” the vixen murred respectfully, half-bowing over the table.\n\n\tHer guest chuckled throatily, shaking her head, “No... not that, not here, and not now.” One hand still holding her cloak, the other fished around in a pocket, withdrawing a necklace almost identical to one of the ambassador’s, save for its copper castings and bronze chain. “For this all-too-brief time,” she mused half-wistfully, “I’m once more just Lylae the novice, as I was a year and change ago when I came home from the temple for the winter holidays, only to catch a rather prominent eye while simply helping out in my parents’ tavern. I prayed hard, the night he proposed, and Our Bounteous Lady felt I could do some good by accepting. He’s... not the greatest of lovers in the world, and only barely listens when I voice an opinion in private, but I’ve seen more than one case when he did follow my advice even if he didn’t remember who’d given it. Thus, my sacrifice has not been in vain.”\n\n\tElaria nodded almost despite herself, “Meanwhile, you play the role of a trophy bride, never offering an opinion of your own in public, always the proper, submissive wife who keeps to her place in the background... You did so quite well, I should note. Not even my spymaster ever heard the slightest hint that you possess a functioning brain.”\n\n\tLylae smirked, “This is the first time I’ve shown it since before I’d even met the king. The wide-eyed, vapid act was always good for tips at the tavern, after all, so that was how he first saw me, and I’ve been careful to keep it up. The more important it is that I plant the seed of an idea in his head, the emptier mine seems.” Sobering visibly, she got to the point of her visit, “I came here, tonight, to give you good news and bad. I seriously doubt your nation is at risk of war any longer... and while that’s certainly good news for everyone involved, the reason is frankly terrifying. There’s a permanent truth spell on our ambassadorial meeting rooms, but the indicator is located in a spy-post within the walls. Despite direct, personal oaths to the exact opposite, it seems that Vivenge’s representative did know of Duke Urenhold’s divided loyalties, and that he did report to their official government intelligence services. Keesanrel’s original plan, now, would be tantamount to suicide; letting the empire’s troops through our territory to attack yours... would only give them two conquests for the price of one. It is very clear that we can’t trust our ‘ally.’”\n\n\tThe vixen frowned as she thought hard... As nice as it was to have her suspicions confirmed, the long-term implications were anything but pleasant. Just over twenty percent of Drachath’s foreign trade was with Atheria, and their frequent skirmishes over the centuries had been an acceptable price of doing that business. While they weren’t quite as grand as their title of ‘empire’ suggested, Vivenge was still nearly twice as big as either of their nations, with an army to match. Half-turning in her seat, she snapped her fingers, “Parchment. Now.” Serra had the right belt pouch this time, so she quickly stepped up and set out a small roll of parched hide, an even smaller bottle of ink, and an ordinary quill that had been cut in half to fit into the tiny bag. Glancing back up to the queen as she wrote, she mused, “This is a quick request for cancellation that I’d like you to give the seneschal, or the Consular General if he’s out of his meetings. A non-aggression pact isn’t enough to do either of us any good, now, but an alliance... That just may save all our hides. I have one or two ideas that I’d been holding in reserve to shorten any war between Atheria and Drachath, but they’d actually work even better against Vivenge.” Smiling faintly, she added, “And, if you’re willing to drop your act enough to pass it along, as it’s still too early to be putting it into writing... you can tell someone that Drachathian troops will not need to violate your territory to get within tactical distance of some very... sensitive portions of the empire.”\n\n\tBlinking as her hostess blew on the ink of the quick note, there was a hint of hope in the queen’s eyes for the first time that afternoon. “I’ve never studied much strategy,” she admitted as she accepted and folded the parchment, “but even I know that their bigger army can only be decisive if it’s massed against ours all at once. If, as you seem to be implying, we can hit them from two directions at once, with our massed forces, they have very little hope of completely stopping either one.”\n\n\tElaria nodded with a grim smile, “I am trained in strategy and tactics, though my military rank was one of the titles your herald was told to ignore, and if we do this right, it won’t even be a battle. It’ll be a slaughter.”\n\n\tBrows high, Lylae tried to lighten the bloodthirsty mood with a laugh and a waved arm, “We’re at the wrong end of the club for that! Let’s not put these nice people off of their fun, please.”\n\n\tThis earned a chuckle, “Oh, alright, I’ll shut up about it... For now, I need to report to my king then get together with my legal staff and start drawing up a proper treaty of alliance. For your very welcome, and very helpful news, bad as some of it may have been, please enjoy anything this club has to offer, our treat. If you paid a cover charge to get in here anonymously, it will be refunded on your way out.” She glanced over to Pria, “Go talk to the desk man and then the kitchen manager to make it so.”\n\n\tWhile the young cougar started eying a couple of well-muscled stallions in the slave lines, her expression between speculation and hunger, the wolf nodded, “Yes, ma’am,” and padded out.\n\n* * *\n\n\tLylae sat in front of the silvered glass mirror in the royal bedchamber, half-dreamily running a brush through her arms’ fur. At its quality, that mirror was worth more than its weight in gold, and it remained her personal favorite of the luxuries she’d enjoyed since marrying the king. The act she’d had to keep up kept her from the social pleasures another queen might have enjoyed, and while the food to be had was the best she’d ever tasted, she couldn’t eat much of it if she wanted to remain able to fit into her expensive wardrobe. She knew, in any case, that she’d been blessed with an unusual beauty, and enjoyed sitting here, enhancing and perfecting the base nature had laid.\n\n\tThe muffled clatter of armor as the suite’s guards snapped to attention gave her the bit of warning she needed, several seconds before the door actually opened, and she made just a few adjustments to her lounging robe so it didn’t quite cover everything it should. Though he saw her naked often enough, just like any other man her husband took any ‘forbidden’ peek that offered itself.\n\n\tFootsteps echoed faintly from the vaulted ceiling of the sitting room, but they stopped just inside of the bedchamber, only the sounds of breathing and the soft hiss of bristles through her own fur reaching her ears. Hiding a flutter of nervous foreboding, Lylae eased the chair back and stood, turning to find her husband staring silently at her. Hoping that he didn’t notice the slight delay, she donned her widest smile, “Welcome home, dear! I hope your day was nice, though everyone seemed to be worried about something...”\n\n\t“Just where were you this afternoon?” he asked without preamble, his voice unusually deep. “Your handmaiden lost track of you for several hours... and I hear those Drachathian bitches have dropped their request for a basic treaty and are going to pursue something even closer. No one has offered an explanation for their sudden shift in policy, so I’m left with the only clue I have, that a technical council member vanished for long enough... to betray me, as much as Duke Urenhold did.” He lifted his hand as her eyes widened, muzzle opening for a vacuous denial, and insisted, “It is a betrayal, if you’re encouraging that filth to cozy up to our great nation. You’ve never seemed to have a brain in your head, but you picked a very bad time to try and grow one. I can’t think of anything more incredibly stupid than what I must surmise you’re attempting.”\n\n\tDiscarding her usual ruse, the queen gave him a very sharp, shrewd look, that expression alone so out of place on her face that he started visibly. Certain that he was too shocked to interrupt her this time, she traded bluntness for bluntness, “I can think of a more stupid plan... Yours. It’s obvious even to a simpleton that Vivenge is not our friend. You call it a betrayal, but I call it doing the one thing that can save your kingdom. A duke is a traitor; that means that better than twelve percent of your army can’t be relied upon, when they’re already at an enormous disadvantage against the enemy we only just saw coming. We need allies, whether you personally like them or not!”\n\n\tKeesanrel was shaking his head as he stepped from the hardwood floor onto the carpet surrounding the bed, “I was there when we signed the treaty with Vivenge, when the emperor and I, sitting side by side, promised to defend each other’s life, land, and dignity. By that promise, I will help him root out whatever subversive elements in his government are plotting against us both, after which we can crush those annoying southerners, once and for all! That land worships a bitch-Goddess, and sends more fornicating bitches up here to beg for restraint, only how many favors do I owe them, when they’ve half corrupted my closest advisor, and have corrupted my very wife?!?”\n\n\t“Bending to reality is hardly corruption,” she shot back. “If you were any other man, you could ignore the truth as much as you wished, but the king can’t do that. Only you and Lophiel ever wanted to invade, and the rest of the council went along out of respect for you, but if you don’t act like the king you are, they’ll change their minds... and they’ll be right to.”\n\n\tAlmost explosively, the cougar took two more steps toward his wife, his hand reaching out in a hard slap that his flab only lent additional weight to, the sharp smack of impact followed by a crash as she fell against the mirror. Disbelief, more than the pain from the several places sharp glass had cut her, filled her eyes as she gazed up at the man who’d never before raised his hand to her. Deliberately turning away, he awaited the guard who’d started sprinting through the sitting room at the sound of the mirror’s demise, and calmly instructed, “Escort her out. What she does once she’s as far as the public halls is her own business, but she is not welcome in my quarters again tonight. The last thing I need... particularly now... is another bitch!”\n\nChapter 8\n\n\t“The council will come to order,” Yarenel called, somewhat needlessly as the whole group had quieted down the moment the king entered the room.\n\n\tNodding to the seneschal, the well-worn rut of formality comforting to the bruising his sensibilities had taken recently, Keesanrel claimed his seat and stated, “Old business can wait. Much more important, at the moment, is that I introduce a motion to divorce that b... my wife. I charge her with deception, with betrayal, with defeatism, and with conspiring with the enemies of the kingdom, and once she’s stripped of her title, I fully intend to prosecute her for as many of these as I can.”\n\n\tTyron raised a hand, and the king nodded, eagerly awaiting the motion’s seconding. “Those charges... seem to have little substance behind them. The fact that she’s more intelligent than you’d realized is not, itself, a deception, since I strongly doubt you ever asked her about the subject. Betrayal, defeatism, and conspiracy, too, depend entirely upon one’s perspective, given that the kingdom has no official enemies at the moment, so the only true charge you can level is that she disagreed with you, and that is not a crime, nor is it grounds for divorce, as she’s your wife, not a slave. She is quite entitled to her own opinions, and to act upon them as she sees fit so long as she breaks no actual laws.”\n\n\t“Point of order!” one of the other councilors, a drinking buddy in the king’s youth, protested. “The motion has been made, and awaits seconding; debate on its merits must wait, and arguments in favor are given precedence. In keeping with that point, I hereby second the motion offered by the king. Arguments in favor?”\n\n\tKeesanrel, who’d relaxed a bit once his bought vote started things moving the right direction, scowled again, “The charges I listed should be argument enough. That... woman has consorted with my enemies, whether or not we’ve gotten around to declaring war yet, and preached sedition against my allies, this nation’s allies, and she should be tossed penniless onto the street, or outright hung if the courts agree with me. I move that we take my cousin’s out-of-order statement as sufficient argument against, too, and put it to an immediate vote so we can focus on important matters for the rest of this morning.”\n\n\tAnother of his personal appointees nodded, “Seconded, and I’ll cast the first vote: aye!”\n\n\tOne by one, the other eight old friends repeated, “Aye!”\n\n\tThe mayor frowned as the vote reached his end of the table, the foot to the king’s head, “Nay, I have to say. Tyron had several good points.”\n\n\tNodding, the councilor for the first district agreed, “Nay.”\n\n\tSo did the other six representatives, the fifth district’s seat still vacant, and Tyron repeated himself when it was his turn.\n\n\t“The vote stands at nine for, nine against,” the king mused in a pleased rumble, “And I have my two votes to cast... I say aye, and—”\n\n\t“Point of order!” Everyone but the seneschal and wizard jumped in their seats as a feminine voice half-yelled from behind one of the room’s curtains. Lylae stepped out from hiding, her face and shoulder bandaged. There was a fury in her eyes that none had ever expected from the harmless, self-effacing woman they’d come to know, and her voice was nearly a snarl, “You forget, dear husband, that one of those votes you’ve always cast as a pair is mine! Until and unless a motion like this is carried, I am the queen, and I... say... nay!”\n\n\tNo one else seeming able to find their voice, Yarenel spoke for the record being made at the scribe’s lectern, “The final vote being ten for, ten against, the motion is not carried. Next order of business?”\n\n\tKeesanrel erupted from his seat suddenly enough to shove the heavy hardwood table back several inches, roaring as he dashed the nearest papers onto the floor with a sweep of his arm, “NO! I will not suffer this indignity! This council advises, but I am still the king, and I say this woman is not my wife! The evidence is so obvious... that I’ll be investigating each and every nay-sayer here for treason, yes, even you, cousin! As I obviously cannot trust you to work for the clear gain of my kingdom, I hereby dissolve this council, and will rule by decree!” In one more fit of pique he shoved his ornate chair over, hardwood thumping against the carpeted floor, and stormed out, only the sheer weight of the gilded doors keeping him from slamming them.\n\n\tLylae looked much less confident than she had a few moments before, and turned to Tyron to ask, “Can he do that?”\n\n\tHis quiet chuckle did much to ease her worries, “No... When this council was formed, the then-king had the right of decree, but by that right he stripped his title of it. Any major decision, including the marriage or divorce of a queen, must bear the council’s seal to have any legal force whatsoever. Let him go pester the scribes for a bit... They’ll get more practice writing, and he’ll feel like he’s ‘doing something.’ He’s harmless enough, now.”\n\n\tYarenel shook his head, one hand absently smoothing down his own raised hackles, “Harmless legally, perhaps... but not physically. The palace guard are sworn to his service, personally, and will follow just about any order short of one to fall on their swords. Come to think of it, a couple of ‘em might obey even that.”\n\n\tThe wizard nodded, “True, I hadn’t remembered that... but, still, what can he do? There’s only a company or so worth of troops in the lot.” Shrugging, he glanced around the table, “I don’t think we’re going to get much work done here... Even the smallest quorum in our bylaws still requires the king. I suggest that we take the rest of the day off, out of the palace, just in case the seneschal has a better point than I want him to about the guards.”\n\n\tMore than one of the assembled councilors said in unison, “Motion seconded and carried!” as the others simply laughed their agreement.\n\n* * *\n\n\t“... and that’s where we stand, a stalemate. Keesanrel’s still holed up in his suite, issuing decrees, which his guards carry to the scribes, the scribes give copies of to the criers, and the criers dump them in the palace refuse bin. The queen is perfectly safe here, and seems to be making up for lost time in the club downstairs. After over a year with a fat, twig-dicked husband, she’s got our best-hung stallion slave starting to complain of chafing.”\n\n\tLachier’s hearty laugh was a welcome sound, even through the slight distortion of the magical crystal, “I’m sure she’ll feel much better once she’s caught up, scars or no. Luckily, I don’t think I’m in any danger of the same kind of disappointment on Jessela’s part. Traditions be damned; I took your advice and snuck off with her for an hour, and both of us are much happier about the wedding my council wants, now. Knowing, not just hoping but knowing, that your potential spouse can please you in bed is as important as you said it was, and I honestly think we’ll have a new queen. Those few who are still resisting the notion because she’s ‘only’ an earl’s niece... will just have to live with it.”\n\n\tElaria nodded, “Good for you, and for her! Tradition has its place, but this is really something you need to know beforehand, as it can sour an arranged marriage like nothing else can. On to other topics, I’m having the staff rewrite our proposed alliance, this time without Vivenge’s special terms and phrasings, as it seems fairly likely that their rules won’t apply anymore once the dust settles. I’ll also have a request for you to pass along to the Dengarian consulate... wait a moment. Ronnel just came in, and he’s signaling extreme urgency. I’m going to drop the privacy shroud, alright?” The rapid tilting of his closed fist, up and down, was a leftover from their long-ago battle with Talaya, a signal he’d only used once more since, and that day had seen blood on her swords.\n\n\t“Definitely,” her king agreed. “If the world’s going to hell, I want to hear about it now, not from the herald for an army!”\n\n\tShe’d already twisted the crystal in question, and her husband obviously heard Lachier’s last few words so knew she could hear him now. “Keesanrel has issued another decree, but this time someone realized it was too important to just throw away. Though it lacks legal force, he’s declared all relations with Drachath dissolved, and the page who brought our copy said that more palace guards than he’d ever seen in his life were putting on armor.”\n\n\tThe distant raccoon hissed, “Shitbuckets! Ela, get your ass out of there, the embassy’s about to be attacked!”\n\n\tEven if he couldn’t see it, she shook her head vigorously, “Over my dead body! There can’t be more than a hundred of those guards, and this time I’m not using wooden swords, plus I have my guard force for backup! I will call you back, your Majesty, but for now I’m going to teach a royal asshole just what the term ‘blade dancer’ really means!” Before he could get another word out, she slapped one hand down on the crystal to end the conversation, and the other on a blood-red stone set apart from the others, the screech of a magical klaxon sounding throughout the complex. She hadn’t bothered to don her official robes in the last few days of chaotic inactivity, and didn’t stop for them now, loosening her swords in their sheaths as she stalked out of her suite toward the stairs.\n\n\tFalling in beside her, Ronnel knew better than to talk her out of personally defending the embassy. He understood honor as well as she, and rumbled instead, deliberately recalling his old dialect, “With you forever, I promised I’d be. If fall you do today, then at your side shall I fall too.”\n\n\tHis vixen nodded sharply, “We may indeed fall... but only after taking a lot of those bastards with us!”\n\n\tThe alarm she’d sounded had sent the legal writers, scribes, cooks, and other lesser functionaries scrambling for the escape tunnels, while every guard not on duty in the playclub scrambled for armor and weapons before assembling in the courtyard. Those downstairs simply locked all the doors, remaining inside to protect the patrons and the slave pens. The club was, technically, a Kathallic church; if a concentrated force attempted to breach it, She would take action, so all the mortals needed to worry about was the possibility of a few stray soldiers looking for an easier route inside.\n\n\tDistant cries of pain were already audible as the foxes rounded the last corner before the open doors; all three duty shifts of six archers each were on the wall, firing desperately at the column marching up the broadest of the streets around the embassy. The elite guards had good armor and excellent training in using their shields, and some carried crossbows as well. Their numbers had only slightly diminished as they drew near, and five figures in Drachathian uniform lay slumped on the wall or on the cobblestones where they’d fallen, four of them silent and still and the fifth moaning as the unarmed healer crouched behind a battlement in his own desperate fight to save even one life.\n\n\tA private was doing much the same thing where he’d been caught away from his weapons, but kept peeking around the stonework as he shouted reports back to his gathered comrades, “I count ninety-two... either we hit more of them than we thought or there’ve been some desertions even among the most loyal. Wait, I just caught a flash of goldish fur; Keesanrel’s in there somewhere!”\n\n\tElaria finally emerged into the sunlight and marched toward the captain of her modest force where he was organizing his squads for a layered defense of the front door, with flankers ready to slow a concentrated rush enough to be picked apart, when the rhythm of her own boots knocked loose a fragment of song in her memory... and that song grew, half-imagined instruments joining in, but something odd was going on too. The soldiers nearest her were turning and blinking, ears canted as if they could hear that phantom orchestra themselves. The song, about a long march and the courage to fight at the end of it when all one wanted was rest and the lasting peace of a crushing victory, had lyrics... and both foxes recognized the voice that began to quietly sing in their minds, one that no one could ever forget if they’d heard it even once. Malia Herself, backed by a choir of thousands of souls of brave soldiers, sang to them all, and Elaria discarded her plans of consultation and just kept marching to the beat, swords in hand.\n\n\tThe troops that had been preparing to support the mostly-decorative gate’s locking bar with their own strong arms took one look at her face and scrambled to open it instead, and she turned on one heel as she reached the street, continuing without pause toward the oncoming company of hostiles. She could hear the rest of the soldiers falling into columns behind her, six abreast, and their boots fell in perfect unison, an extra stomp every fourth beat echoing from nearby walls. Step step step STOMP, step step step STOMP, it sounded more like an army at her back than the two-score and change troops she led, usually in name only, but this day’s reality was a welcome change, and every Drachathian eye shone with a lust for glory, whether they lived to see it or not.\n\n\tThat divine voice in their minds finished the first verse, and the ambassador sang out the first line of the chorus, “A coward dies a thousand deaths...”\n\n\t“A HERO DIES BUT ONE!” the massed voices rang behind her.\n\n\t“Why did we sign up for this crap?”\n\n\t“COME ON, WE’RE HAVING FUN!”\n\n\tTwenty yards separated her from the solid-looking wall of bodies, plate armor, and shields, but even from here she could see the growing confusion, even a hint of fear, on the faces under those visors.\n\n\t“We’re far from home and on our own...”\n\n\t“WHERE WILL WE FIND A BED?”\n\n\tFifteen yards. “Nowhere! It’s not time to sleep!”\n\n\tThe roar shook the nearby windows, “IT’S TIME TO MAKE THEM DEAD!” and the column burst from a march into a charge.\n\n\tAmbassador and husband were shoulder to shoulder during that final sprint, each half-turning just before they reached the enemy, back against back. Ronnel’s foot lashed out, crashing into the breastplate of a guard that had been preparing to parry a higher sword strike and sending him falling into his comrades, limbs and weapons tangling, even as the fox seemed to melt out of the swing of the soldier he actually faced, both hands riposting, one to slam into a helmet hard enough to break the wearer’s neck even as the other open palm to his breastplate sent his body and the two guards behind him tumbling to the ground. Elaria was the more important target in her enemies’ eyes, but also far deadlier than they’d ever imagined, her motions that perfect blend between flowing, calculated grace and the speed of a striking viper. She aimed for joints, the razor edge of her swords cleaving through the slightly thinner metal there and sending arms, legs, and the occasional head flying in all directions, and the two swords she had to actually bother parrying were stopped well short of their mark, a lightning flick with her other blade following the next instant in both cases, removing the hands that had been raised against her.\n\n\tThe embassy troops followed behind and around the sides, many of them still humming along as Malia sang another verse. Their chainmail and breastplates might not have been quite as good of protection as the full plate armor the Atherians wore, but it left them marginally more maneuverable as they climbed over dead bodies and surrounded living ones; the street was only six or seven yards wide, which left room for no more than two elites on either side of the swath the couple in the middle was carving, and those singletons and pairs were quickly surrounded by three to five Drachathians, desperation writ large on their faces as swords and shields moved in defense. Occasionally, a lucky riposte got through, and a lighter-armored figure fell back, clutching a rent in mail over a wound, but the rear ranks were watching eagerly for just those sorts of gaps, another fighter always ready to step into place to continue the battle.\n\n\tA hint of tawny fur drew Elaria’s attention as another guard fell, the point of her sword having pierced right through his heavy breastplate, withdrawn faster than he could even start to fall and wedge the blade in his armor. “Ron, checkmate!” she called, then practically screamed in the cougar’s direction, “A coward dies a thousand deaths!” in sync with the chorus running through her head anew. The palace guards were growing steadily more demoralized, but they still took their duties seriously; those nearby recognized her focus and intent, and started shuffling their king farther back in the ranks, building a wall of bodies several layers deep between him and his would-be killer.\n\n\tKeesanrel wasn’t even sure what was happening anymore... By now, in his plans, he should already be in the embassy courtyard, surrounded by its dead guard force and directing the search for survivors in the building proper. He did, though, recognize the voice that yelled at him from barely three yards away, and he snarled in satisfaction as his troops seemed to surge forward. He hadn’t, himself, managed to get close enough to the front of the fighting to use the sword in his hand, and he cursed the growing wall of bodies that would probably deny him a chance at glory. Still, he had personally led this attack, rather than hiding back in the palace, and he could certainly twist that into some form of accomplishment... A hand seized his shoulder just a bit more roughly than several others had been doing, and he blinked, muttering, “Huh?” to himself as he realized that his soldiers weren’t actually progressing. In fact, none of them had taken a step forward since ten seconds after the initial clash! He was being pushed backwards, comprehension finally dawned as he found himself alone in an empty street.\n\n\tThe palace guard was still four deep between him and the embassy, but that was less than a third of their original number, a few at the very rear turning away to take up formation around him. “It’s time to run, your Majesty,” someone told him in a panting voice, and he recognized the lieutenant of the third platoon, his frazzled expression a far cry from his usual immaculate poise.\n\n\t“What about the captain? Shouldn’t we—”\n\n\t“The captain’s dead,” the wolf interrupted him, “and if we don’t retreat, we will be too! Sir... run, or I will fucking carry you! The rest of the troop can buy us enough time, but we have to go now!”\n\n\tThe king’s eyes flared with anger, “Now just see here—hurk!”\n\n\tTrue to his word and duty, the officer threw away his sword and heaved the overweight cat over his armored shoulder, adrenaline as much from anger at the stubborn fool as from the fight giving him the strength to start back down the street at a burdened sprint. He thought silent, fervent prayers for the souls of his comrades behind him, knowing that they’d do what they must and give their liege time to escape, but of the hundred-strong palace guard... only he and the other three in that defensive escort had any hope to see another day.\n\n* * *\n\n\tElaria hid the faint tremors of near-exhaustion as she settled carefully onto a bench in the courtyard, Meviran materializing out of the still-bustling crowd and drawing near. The noncombatants had been called back, and they were the ones making most of the fuss as they cleaned up bodies and parts of bodies in the street, helped bandage wounds, and generally worked on restoring the grounds to their state before that illegal decree had arrived. “So,” she asked, “what’s the damage?”\n\n\tThe mink paused to look her over, nodding to himself as he confirmed that she was unhurt, “On our side, five dead, four from the exchange of arrows and one more in the battle in the street. We’ve got nearly two dozen wounded, half of them seriously, and four limbs either severed in the fight or too damaged to save. On the other...” He shook his head, a clear wonder in his eyes, “We’ve found six survivors and brought them in for treatment, as per our policy on prisoners of war. Ninety others are dead, nearly half by your hands as no one else’s sword cuts that cleanly, and ten of them after the fact due to gut-wounds or the like, cases that no healer could save so we gave them mercy instead. Four soldiers and the king managed to escape, the blocking force having fought to the last man.”\n\n\tHis boss nodded, sighing, “I know, as I faced that last man personally... Loyal to the bitter end, however misplaced that loyalty may have been, as one would expect from the very finest of soldiers. I will pray for their souls this evening; they died as warriors, and I hope Malia or Tarragh will welcome them in the afterlife. Those six prisoners, please, treat them well. They may be our enemies, but they’ve earned our respect.”\n\n\tA brief commotion had started near the gate as she spoke, and she looked over to see her guards, blades still sheathed, pushing back against several figures attempting to gain entry, figures she recognized. This soon after an attack, standing orders prohibited foreign nationals on the grounds, but the wizard and seneschal were hardly average citizens. “Let them through,” she called above the arguing voices.\n\n\tCougar and wolverine both bowed deeply as they neared, the latter offering, “On behalf of all Atheria, I’d like to apologize for this attack. It was unjustified, unjustifiable, and in blatant violation of both kingdom law and the rules of international diplomacy. If you ask reparations for the deaths and damage done today, I will strongly suggest that the council not contest them.”\n\n\tElaria shook her head with a sad smile, “It’s clear that Atheria lost far more than Drachath, this day. Those were your finest soldiers; they fought well and honorably, at least a score of them knowingly sacrificing their lives to protect the lord they were sworn to. I urge only that their families be given full death benefits despite the king’s... departure from civilized behavior. As soon as our healer declares them fit, I will release the six prisoners we took, without criminal charges.”\n\n\tTyron nodded, one brow high, “I saw the... results of the battle on the way here, and I sent one of my own guards back to gather servants. Just cleaning up the bodies, and sorting out the pieces for proper burial, will probably take a day or two.” He glanced to his mustelid companion, “For now, we have a... proposal, that should best be made in private. I told my friend here of the ‘master thief,’ and, pending your approval, we have a mission for at least one of the pair.”\n\n\tThe vixen nodded again, pausing only to accept her swords from the corporal who’d been cleaning them and slip them back into their scabbards, “They were in the club downstairs when the fighting started, and stood guard there, but,” and she glanced pointedly to the nearest soldier, “I’m sure someone can ask Serra and Pria to join us in meeting room two shortly.”\n\n\tThe two Atherians shared another glance, this one amused, as the private blinked and nodded jerkily, “Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am!”\n\n* * *\n\n\tPria and Serra had been curious for the whole walk there, and reaching the meeting room didn’t help, both teens blinking at the sight of their boss, the mage, and the king’s chief aide, all on the same side of the table opposite two chairs clearly intended for them, and no other guards present. They had discipline enough, in any case, to keep from glancing at each other as they sat, folding their hands on the tabletop and looking attentive.\n\n\tTyron began, “The council... that is, the real council, consisting of we two here, the hereditary mayor, and the seven remaining ducal representatives, held a meeting that would have been illegal without the king and his cronies, save for some very specific provisions in our law and bylaws. Keesanrel, we all agree, has gone insane. On one level, this is perfectly understandable, as his purported allies turned out to be enemies, his hated enemies showed themselves to be our best potential friends in the world, and even his wife turned out to be something completely other than what he’d thought. Understanding, though, is not an excuse, as a proper king must be flexible, able to adapt to changing situations, and there is never a good reason for a man to strike his wife as he did. His delusional rule by decree and his paranoid lashing out against all perceived threats except the real ones could no longer be tolerated. His eldest son, the only child by his first wife, is out of reach, as our ambassador to Vivenge. As his nearest living relative here in Atheria City... I have been declared king, though I will relinquish that title to his son if he can be safely brought home.”\n\n\tJudging by the start of surprise that even her discipline couldn’t prevent in time, Tyron’s recent promotion was obviously news to even Elaria. Nodding deeply across the table, both girls acknowledged, “Your Majesty...” before the wolf tilted her head and continued, “How may we serve you?”\n\n\tAt his monarch’s sidelong glance, the wolverine spoke for him, “You can kill the bastard who currently wears the crown and deliver it to us. He’s only got four real guards left, but his council cronies have a few men of their own, and they’re all holed up in the royal wing. The regular servants stopped cleaning and cooking for them two days ago, but the wing itself was built as a final line of defense in case of trouble. It has limited entrances and a fair-sized stockpile of preserved food. Our city constables don’t have the training for the full military assault it would take to force our way in there, and calling in the official army to storm our own palace would send entirely the wrong message to our neighbors and our own citizens.”\n\n\t“At a minimum,” the cougar added, “it would be seen as a sign of severe internal weakness, and Vivenge’s troops would be on the march as soon as they got the report. We need time, to finalize an alliance with your king, to have any hope of surviving such a conflict, so we must delay it as long as possible.”\n\n\tAs the girls nodded, Elaria added in a soft, serious tone, “The alliance of which he speaks... will be a real one. For the first time in centuries, Atheria will sign a treaty with Drachath, not just our king. The fact that King Tyron and I genuinely like each other will also be a major factor, and the terms of that treaty will likely be even more generous, to both sides, than an average, basic military alliance. We will have few if any secrets from each other, girls, and its time to lay our cards on the table.”\n\n\tA bit surprised, but understanding immediately, the two ‘honor guards’ fished silvery pins out of their purses, and Pria had to smile as the other mage’s eyes widened and he shot out a half-reflexive probe to verify that the rubies were what they looked like. Serra spoke for both of them, “We’re Junior Agents for Lachier. I’ll never be a real Agent, since I don’t have any magic of my own, but my girlfriend will be once she’s fully trained. Other than the more relaxed requirements, the only other difference between us and a standard Agent is that we’re answerable to more than just the king. Army colonels, naval commodores, dukes, and,” and she shot her vulpine boss a quick grin, “ambassadors can also command us directly.”\n\n\tThe wolf had given her one quick, mildly surprised look toward the beginning of her explanation, then shrugged to herself before turning back to the Atherians, “I’m... a bit better a mage than I look. My father’s a full master, and he threw out the usual guidelines about first, second, and third tier techniques, teaching me a... ‘subtlety’ in using my limited power in ways that most students don’t even know exist until a decade or so into their training. That’s how I got through that balcony door; a remote projection where I pulled in exactly as much motion-magic as I pushed forth, enough to open the latch and deactivate the primary spell without triggering the secondary alarm. The air itself is in constant motion, a vibration that’s actually related to heat, so for one flick of a latch the room as a whole cooled several degrees.” She glanced to the side again, “My... ‘girlfriend,’ I guess that’s true enough given how often we’ve slept together, had much greater experience as a purely physical thief and assassin, and that was also a great help, as the secondary alarm was of a type she’d run afoul of but that I’d never seen.”\n\n\tThe king nodded, smiling as he was finally able to piece together the sequence of spells that had gotten them through an otherwise foolproof security system, “It sounds like you two are, indeed, the very best we could send on this job. I’ll give you as much detail as I can about the wing’s magical defenses, which I did not make but which it was my duty to maintain, and Yarenel has a map of the wing with its choke-points and escape routes noted, but we’ll be leaving the specifics entirely up to you. I don’t care how you do it, or who else in that wing dies in the process, but, in Malia’s name, I swear that we don’t want that so-called king to see another sunrise, and that you have my official blessing to kill him. No harm or other repercussions will fall upon you for your acts this night, whether you succeed or not.”\n\n\tThis sort of offer was, literally, an assassin’s dream come true, and both young ladies were grinning as they shared one-armed hugs between their seats. “Your Majesty,” Pria accepted for both of him, “you can consider that bastard as good as dead!”\n\nChapter 9\n\n\tThis was like, and yet so unlike, their last late-night outing. There were guards and constables in earshot, but those worthies were tucked into their own hiding spots in the manicured gardens surrounding the palace, ready to call out a warning or rush to the assistance of the thieves if needed. “There,” Pria whispered, “that’s probably the giant bust of Barthom II that Ty mentioned. The moonlight’s on the wrong side to read the plaque, but it’s got the right mix of energies around the base. Pass me a pack of crystals.”\n\n\tOn seeing the map, there’d obviously been very few routes to choose from, as not just the windows but the very walls were imbued with a spell that blocked all forms of line-magic, made it so much more difficult to push through a remote point that Pria’s power was literally useless, and would report an attempt at either kind of penetration. Instead, they’d decided to go in through the escape tunnels, which had their own subtle, devious enchantments, but a few hours worth of work had provided a very specialized sort of lockpick.\n\n\tThe pouch the tigon handed over contained four shards of quartz, a lump of jade, and a ball of sticky, half-dried pine sap. She broke off pieces of the latter to stick the crystals around the four corners of the engraved marble plaque at the base of the statue, then planted the jade in the very center, murmuring, “And now we wait,” as she settled back in a crouch. Earth-energies were always very subtle things, but the enchantment she’d invented was one even her father could be proud of. That jade was reading the plaque, memorizing it, and sharing its infinitesimally small power signature with the four other shards, while their own spell was kept in check simply by the central stone being ‘in line’ with them on the same plane. Once all the stones had settled down, and giving them one more moment for any changes that were too faint for even her practiced mage-sight to notice, the wolf stood and hefted her own major burden for the evening, a twenty-pound sledgehammer. Reaching out magically, she ‘grabbed’ a dome-shaped batch of air, holding it still enough that sound would not pass while keeping active magic well away from the statue itself, then simply bashed in the plaque with her hammer. Freed from the jade’s restraint as it tumbled inwards with the chunks of marble, the other four crystals instantly started projecting, if invisible to the eye, the exact earth-energy signature that the slab had had while in place. The spell that verified the tunnel exit’s ongoing integrity had been... specific, so much so as to be its own form of vulnerability, and it wouldn’t react at all to non-marble passing through its detection range. “You’re free to go in, and the other set of stones should work the same. Remember about how long I waited, but this part’s all yours.”\n\n\tNodding, Serra grabbed her into a tight hug and kissed her on the lips, murmuring, “Just in case I don’t return... but I’ll try!” then ducked into the tunnel. He very presence triggered another spell, but this one was harmless, dim crystals lighting up as she neared and passed each one, as royalty that found itself under attack couldn’t be expected to remember to bring a torch. After two turns, probably added to make it hard for enemies to guess where the exit was, even if they knew which room the tunnel had to start in, it ended with a vertical shaft, a ladder, and a somewhat decayed featherbed. She smirked to herself at that; it had been a nice enough principle, centuries ago when the palace had been built, but no one had thought to replace it as it rotted, even the molds and mildews having long since died by this point.\n\n\tAt the top of the ladder, another marble slab greeted her, and she could see the faintest hint of moonlight through it, a finger-hole for lifting the trapdoor that didn’t even have a rug over it. Any actual movement on the slab’s part would set off the alarm, so they hadn’t bothered to install any sort of lock. Moving as silently as she could, as she was also straining for any sounds or changes in light that might make it through that hole, she stuck four more crystals to the shaft corners around her, and the jade in the middle of the door, before silently counting off the seconds she’d tallied while watching Pria.\n\n\tThe exact plan of attack... had been worked out in consultation with Lylae, who’d at points shown an almost unholy glee at some of its details, but afterwards had knelt down and prayed, begging Roxanarra for Her forgiveness. This was going to be nasty... but the Goddess was still, evidently, personally miffed at the way Keesanrel had struck Her novice, several scars marring her beautiful face even after the best the embassy healer could do, as it had taken her nearly an hour to get there. The whole plan had Roxanarra’s and Kathalla’s explicit support. Finally lifting the trapdoor, and smiling at the very lack of commotion, Serra eased herself up into the shadowed corner of the room and took a moment to pull off her black dress and shoes.\n\n\tThe only sounds in the chamber were of her own breathing, and that of the figure on the bed. If any of his cronies’ loaned guards were nearby, she couldn’t hear or smell them, and she thought of her plans in detail as she padded silently toward the bed, dwelling on them, relishing them, the scent of aroused big cat gradually pervading the air. In the faint light of the half moon that reached the bed, she could see the cougar’s nose start to twitch, some level of his being realizing that she was there, and she climbed carefully in beside him, snuggling as close as she could without jostling him instantly awake.\n\n\t“Hrr... Ly... Lylae...” he rumbled, still at least three quarters asleep, and as a paw absently stroked up her lower knee, she lifted one thigh to encourage his exploring touch.\n\n\tMurmuring in her best imitation of the queen’s voice, having practiced while Pria was casting enchantments, she whispered back, “I couldn’t stay away, my love... Can you forgive me? You were so right, I was a bitch, but I’ll never leave your side again...” Her lower paw stroked up to gently scritch at his jaw, just where it met his throat, a ‘special place’ his wife had frequently used to encourage him for a second attempt, her other hand at the small of her back where a ribbon tied the sheath of her new dagger to the base of her tail.\n\n\t“Oh, love,” the cougar sighed, nuzzling forward, once again as predicted by his estranged queen... and that’s where he got his surprise. The one way Serra could not pass for Lylae in the dark was that the queen’s breasts were about twice the size of her own, perfectly respectable pair, and that cleavage had to feel wrong to the ex-king.\n\n\tAlmost as one motion, the tigon’s scritching paw gripped higher, clamping around his muzzle and bending his head back, and her knife whipped around to stab at just the point she’d felt for with her first touch, doing insignificant gross damage but slicing neatly through his vocal cords. Swiping in a curve down one side, she cut through the tendons of his shoulder and elbow, shoved him over onto his back to repeat the slash on the other side, then threw herself backwards to where she could grab his calves with one arm and hamstring him with the other.\n\n\tThat first flash of agony while only half awake had kept him from immediately struggling, and repeated, rapid cuts had served to extend his ‘distraction’ until it was too late. He couldn’t struggle anymore; his voice didn’t work, his limbs were helpless, and he could already feel his lifeblood seeping into the bed from the deep wounds. Still speaking quietly so as not to alert any guards, she straddled his hips and growled, “Your paranoid delusions are driving your kingdom to ruin, and you also did one thing I can never forgive... you hit your wife. Your councilors have already replaced you, and now, alive, you’re more trouble than you’re worth. My name is Serra, Junior Agent of Drachath, and I will be your executioner tonight.” Somehow, the erection that had grown when he’d been mistaken about her identity was still there, perhaps a bit below average, but not nearly the ‘twig’ his wife had complained of, so she shifted herself just a bit, taking him into her heat with a pleased sigh.\n\n\tKeesanrel’s muzzle worked, a faint crackle in his toneless breath as blood bubbled, but all he could whisper was, “No, you can’t,” as she very much did. That beautiful, deadly little knife slashed down once more, penetrating just beneath his sternum and slicing easily through his thick layer of fat. She took its hilt in her teeth so both hands could pull his belly wide open, and it was hard to restrain a happy squeal as she reached deeper to start yanking out intestines, kidneys, and anything else that came to hand. Once he’d been emptied enough to give her room to work with, she elbowed his bladder just for the pleasant, involuntary spurt against her cervix, then jammed her hand upwards, crushing his diaphragm in passing to instead grip his frantically-pumping heart. Fingers slipped carefully around its mass, a bit larger than average given the size of the body it had had to support, before she tore it free in one hard yank. It gave one last convulsion against her palm, and she held it directly over his face. His eyes were barely working, and there was little light to see by, but he very probably realized what the hot splatters falling onto him were in the few seconds of life he had left.\n\n\tEasing herself off of his still-firm shaft, its spines tickling delightfully at her walls on the way out, she wiped her blade on some of his clean arm-fur, sheathed it, and moved to collect the crown resting on the headboard, taking his heart with her as well as she moved to reclaim her clothes and retreat down the tunnel once more.\n\n* * *\n\n\t\n\n\t“Another perfect job, girls,” Elaria grinned at her return from the first session of morning court in nearly a week, relaxing onto a chair in the Agents’ room. “No one saw a thing, and no one heard a sound; it wasn’t until the crony bringing in his breakfast saw the shape you’d left him in, and promptly lost theirs, that the crime was discovered. The remaining elites have sworn allegiance to King Tyron I, the cronies have been banished, and our friend’s first action as king was to issue full royal pardons for both of you, stating publicly and unambiguously that it wasn’t a crime on your parts; it was an execution for his crimes against Atheria. Even if someone objects, though, his second act was to reinstate our traditional diplomatic immunity, so even a unanimous vote of the new council could, at the very most, deport you.”\n\n\tPria nodded, “That’s in keeping with his promise...” then grinned, “and, this time, we didn’t have to keep the act itself a secret, so we could actually catch up on our sleep.” She glanced to her friend, “I talked to Lylae after you, ah, had me for breakfast... She’s delighted at how you literally tore that fat fool apart, and she’ll be keeping his heart forever since I preserved it, commenting that he’d promised it to her in the marriage ceremony, but had never actually delivered until today.” The tigon bent over in her seat, laughing, and she turned back to her sister, “The former queen is still considering her options... She’s planning to offer Tyron her services, officially and in her capacity as a Roxanite novice, tonight, as a simple ‘thank you’ at a minimum. If he’s significantly more satisfying than his cousin, she’ll propose to him and, this time, be a real queen, using that fine mind of hers a bit more directly for the good of the kingdom. If not... she’ll simply return to the temple, a pleasant enough lifestyle for one with her appetites.”\n\n\tThe ambassador nodded, “Then there’s only three serious points left over from court, most of which I spent on Tyron’s dais, talking to him instead of random courtiers... First things first, he’s signed our treaty of alliance, and I’ll be forwarding it to Lachier the instant I’m done here. In short, my primary mission, and yours as Junior Agents, was not only a success, but a triumph as we’ve gotten so much more than a promise not to invade.”\n\n\tBoth sets of ears perked up at that, smiles immediately brightening their faces, but Serra’s head tilted a moment later, her muzzle dipping in a faint frown, “But that alliance is its own sort of problem, isn’t it? It carries responsibilities, and the threat Atheria will almost certainly face from Vivenge is not something we can ignore.”\n\n\tElaria nodded, her expression serious, “Exactly, and the fact that you spotted that, rather than immediately abandoning your duties to celebrate, will reflect very well on you in my report. You didn’t share Pria’s and my training with our ex-Agent father, but one of his frequent themes was ‘think of the next step!’ The second piece of news is that I’ll be requesting that a new ambassador is sent, one classically trained for the standard duties of representing our king to a friendly nation, while we will be leaving within a day or two. After a suitable delay, officially a mourning period for Keesanrel and a funeral that will remember what he did right rather than how things fell apart these last weeks, Tyron will be taking a new, hard line in his stand with Vivenge. He will formally accuse them of espionage, and will demand cessation, proof of cessation, and the prosecution of all of Duke Urenhold’s relatives whom he’s able to positively identify after going through those documents you stole and raiding the duke’s palace for more. He fully expects, after a few rounds of exchanges to convince them that he’s serious, to see the current treaty with the empire abrogated and war to be declared. We, though, will use the time this takes as a head start to travel, as there are details to my plan to surprise Vivenge that I must handle personally. Sir Ferrl might be able to pull off the same stunt, but he’s the only other person in the world with the right connections.”\n\n\tHer sister tilted her head, thinking hard... then gasped loudly, “The Vale! More specifically, the wall around the Vale! The seat of the empire’s less than forty miles from that border, but they’ve never bothered to fortify it. In fact, I think they moved the capitol there, some six or seven centuries ago, simply because it was impenetrable! If Drachath’s army is gathered there, discreetly... we can crush them while nearly their entire army’s gathering to the east!”\n\n\tThe vixen’s broad grin showed many fine, sharp teeth. “Commendations for both of you in my report, now! You got it. Not many people could convince both Lachier and Malia to follow and allow this plan, but that border is as permeable as air when my Lady of the Arts wills it so. ‘Impenetrable’ my tight pink arsehole!” It was her sister’s turn to laugh merrily, and she turned her grin on Serra, “My third piece of news is also the lightest... Your friends from Openheim were, indeed, under suspicion, but just because they were regular patrons of the playclub. The discretion you noticed was quite innocent, and for the very simple purpose of making sure that some other courtier there, it didn’t matter whom, had a worse report delivered about them on any given night. As a skilled acolyte, Tyron noticed Fayette’s new, black soul, and it’s turning out for the best. He’s asked me to ask you to ask them,” and she shared an eye-roll with the tigon at the convolution, “if they’d be his new ambassadors to Drachath, a post a Kathallic would fill better than most.”\n\n\tSerra’s eyes were very bright as she nodded eagerly, “I’ll visit the club this evening, or corner them at tomorrow’s morning court if they’re taking the night off, and relay that request as soon as possible. I’m sure they’ll agree; they already have a clear desire to look out for the interests of those they’re loyal to, Fayette will love our homeland’s playclubs, and Coram will probably agree just for the irony of a ‘mere’ blacksmith’s son going so far. His wife, naturally, will be the official ambassador, as a noble by blood, but he’ll have the same position as Ronnel, who’s not exactly useless here. He’ll also, quite possibly, convert to Kathallicism himself, as only the old king’s prejudice and its possible impact on his home-county relations stopped him when Kathalla first offered the suggestion.”\n\n\tElaria nodded, sighing as she thought of her husband, “That’s all good, and no, Ronnel’s not useless... and he’s looking forward to this trip. My father’s been taking care of our son since I got this assignment, and passing through the Vale would finally let us see him again. I’m sure he misses us... and it’s quite, quite mutual.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe description of her friends’ circumstances... was confirmed the instant Serra stepped into the club, as well as the fact that they knew the changes their new king and his policies represented. There were both foxes, nude save for jewelry this time, Fayette bent over a table, and Coram obviously, even blatantly, fucking her hard up the ass, his dusky shaft and bulging knot visible with each withdrawal before he thrust anew, and her tail well out of the way so, if only she had a better angle, the tigon would be able to see the stretched ring in question, as well as the source of several dribbles of moisture visible on the floor below. Smiling despite the seriousness of her news, at their obvious enjoyment of not having to ‘behave’ anymore, she made her way to their table and took the chair directly across from the vixen’s panting muzzle, her breasts, bare of course, half-flattened against the surface.\n\n\tFayette’s muzzle lifted in a greeting smile, but she didn’t have time to say anything before her eyes suddenly widened, a grunt of effort behind her drawing attention to her husband as he, slowly and very deliberately, forced his engorged knot against and into her already-wide anus. As her ring clamped down again, just above his sheath, she sighed happily, “Ooh... I love it when he does that, as much as it hurts at first. It makes me feel... ooh, Goddess, like a vixen!”\n\n\tThe tigon simply nodded with a smile, waiting the minute or two more it took for the fox to finish, one more peak on his wife’s part making her bosom shake against the table before he finally thrust in one last time, giving voice to his pleasure as he filled her rear with seed. “That, your Excellency, looked like fun,” she finally answered.\n\n\tStill a little foggy-minded from her pleasure and the gradually-shrinking knot and shaft still filling her, the count’s sister blinked, tilting her head, “Wha...?”\n\n\tHalf-bowing in her seat, Serra elaborated, “That will be your proper form of address, should you accept the position I’ve been asked to offer you. On the request of King Tyron I, and indirectly in the name of King Lachier II, as a Junior Agent of Drachath, I offer you the rank and role of Atherian Ambassador to Drachath.”\n\n\tShe couldn’t help but grin as both foxes stared at her, dumbstruck, though whether it was from the offer or her own rank, she couldn’t be sure... until Coram breathed huskily, “An Agent! That would certainly explain why you’re obviously far brighter than any ‘mere’ corporal! Being ‘junior’... is somewhat beside the point. Whatever the limitations, in your own way you still have the direct, personal authority of a king at need, and they don’t give that sort of rank to simpletons!”\n\n\tFayette rolled her eyes, “Except in Keesanrel’s case... He ruled adequately enough in years past, but this last batch of disasters are almost entirely his fault. At least things worked out in the end...” Blinking as she remembered a detail, she looked up at the tigon, “Didn’t our new king mention you in some sort of proclamation, in regards to the old one’s death, just this morning?”\n\n\tNodding, Serra stood for just a moment and patted the dagger both of them recognized where it was sheathed at her hip, “I won’t be here anymore, in a day or two, so there’s no point in keeping secrets... I, personally, gutted Keesanrel while he still lived, with this very blade, and it sliced through his flab like soft butter. I must thank you again, for selling it to me.”\n\n\tCoram winced, “I’m... not sure I’ll mention that to my father... Here in the city, where we saw the carnage of Kees... the old king’s unlawful attack, we understand why he had to die, but out in the holdings they’ll probably never fully believe the whole story. Other details, like the council declaring him insane, might get mixed up, so while it wasn’t really the case, as he wasn’t king anymore whether he accepted it or not, regicide isn’t something anyone would want to be involved with, even peripherally.”\n\n\tGlancing over her shoulder as she eased off of his shaft, his wife mused with a smile, “Seeing that kind of complication, and its reasons, is just the sort of perception that any ambassador can only pray for in their spouse and confidant.” She looked back to the feline, “I accept the offer you relayed, and I look forward to it.”\n\n\tNodding as the couple returned to their abandoned seats, Serra smiled as well, “I’d hoped you would. Skip morning court tomorrow, and report instead to the Consular General’s office at the same time court starts. Your credentials and a travel budget will be waiting, and he’ll brief you on any additional details of your position that you need to know.”\n\n\t“Good,” Fayette murred, then glanced around. Spotting the filly who’d earned a purple dab on her collar for swearing on her hope of Kathalla’s heaven to serve with absolute integrity, and was thus trusted to handle the club’s money, she waved her over then directed, “Bring us a fairly decent bottle of wine... We’ve got several things to celebrate tonight, and it’s worth the price.”\n\n\tThe tigon interrupted before the slave could do more than nod, “Cancel that.” She touched her staff tassel for emphasis, “Bring three glasses and the best wine the club stocks, sparkling if possible, two bottles if the vintage isn’t unique on the rack, and forget my discount as I can afford full price easily. This will probably be my last night here, at least the last one with free time, and I want to make it... memorable.”\n\n\tThe equine blinked hard, “Y-yes, ma’am!” and turned to hurry toward the kitchen.\n\n\tHis wife simply arching a brow, Coram asked, “Just how much does a ‘Junior Agent’ make, anyway? Your expressed need to save up for that knife, though I’ll admit that could have been a ruse while you were playing the part of a relatively low-paid guard corporal, and your current largess... don’t exactly mesh together.”\n\n\tSerra shrugged with a lazy grin, “Not enough for the knife or the wine... but when I’m ordered to rob a manor’s office and take anything that looks valuable, and it turns out that the treasonous councilor whose office it was had stashed twelve pounds of platinum he’d gained from his spying... well, I get to keep it, after income tax and splitting it with my girlfriend and partner in crime. A very heavy bag of Drachathian nobles arrived in the last diplomatic pouch, with my name on it.”\n\n\tFayette’s eyes were almost impossibly wide, “You did that? That’s... shit, I don’t know the coinage well enough off the top of my head, nor your exact tax rate... but even after splitting things, that has to be six to nine pounds of gold for one night’s work!”\n\n\t“Counting the purse that my girlfriend picked up,” the feline mused, “though we didn’t bother to declare that as Lachier’s treasurer was already getting enough of a completely-unplanned windfall... about eight pounds of gold for my share, all told. I can most certainly,” and she grinned, “buy my two good friends from Openheim a drink!”\n\n\tCoram grinned toothily, “That you can... and let me know if you ever want an honest-to-Goddess sword just as sweet as that knife. It would take two or three months to make and ship, and the price is so high that my da hasn’t made many of that quality in his life... but you know it’d be worth it. As a repeat customer, and a friend of his only son,” and the fox winked, “he probably wouldn’t even bill you separately for the very special scabbard a sword that sharp needs, just to sheathe it without shredding the leather.”\n\n\tSerra’s eyes closed as she shivered in her seat, a moist spot forming on her dress’ skirt at the mere thought of a sword like he’d described, and she opened them to slits as she promised, “I’ll... consider it. Assuming that you follow your wife to Fariach, I’ll know where to find you if I decide that’s what I want to spend my little fortune on, as it could also be used for a great deal of fun spread out over years in clubs like this one. I just need to figure out where my priorities lay, with so many enjoyable options ahead of me.” Half-turning in her seat, with another faint shudder as her somewhat puffed-up labia were caressed by the motion, she eyed the lines of slaves, “Speaking of... enjoyable options...”\n\n\tEven as she considered, that filly emerged from the kitchen, moving very carefully as she carried a silver tray with three glasses and two dusty bottles with labels that were clearly decades old. Even the purple dab on her collar probably wouldn’t save her if she dropped something this expensive... One glass wobbled as she slid the tray onto the table, and she breathed a sigh of relief as it stilled, then murmured softly into the tigon’s ear, “Nine nobles, two crowns, gold.”\n\n\tSerra only barely hid a wince; she knew she could afford just about any luxury for the moment, but if that’s what ‘the best’ cost, she’d better keep it a rare treat or her fortune could be gone in a week. Nodding, she fished around in her purse, only a bit heavier than usual since she’d left most of her cash in her room, and slipped the coins into that blunt-nailed hand under the edge of the table and out of sight of her friends. She still didn’t understand why, but there was something of a social convention... If something qualified for the old phrase ‘if you have to ask, you can’t afford it,’ it was considered polite not to reveal how much it did cost.\n\n\tShe didn’t know enough about wine, at her age, to divine much from sniffing the loosened cork, so she splashed just a sip worth into a glass and knocked it back... It wasn’t quite like any wine she’d ever tasted; in the terms used by some of the more snobbish courtiers she’d shared meals with, it was bold, peppery, and a bit tart, and it left her tongue feeling oddly warm, clearly stronger than her usual fare, and certainly acceptable even if it wasn’t as bubbly as she’d hoped. Nodding with approval, she filled all three glasses and looked up to see Coram, escorting a buck deer about her age, in an unmarked ring-collar, back to the table.\n\n\t“I thought we’d have our fun here,” he mused, “as the stage proper is hard to enjoy a drink on, and the bouquet of that vintage is exquisite, even from over here.”\n\n\tA new, but intimately familiar, voice intruded, “I agree.”\n\n\tSetting down her glass, the tigon spun on her seat and jumped up to hug Pria tight, “You’re here! I’m... a little surprised, but very glad to see you. Should I call for a fourth glass?”\n\n\tThe wolf shook her head with a smile, even as she pulled out a seat for herself, “Nah, I’ll just share yours. We’ve certainly exchanged spit often enough not to worry. Anyway, what I told Lachier was true, I only have part of my family’s bloodlust... but I do have some, and it’s a matter of moods. Tonight, just for the hell of it, I feel like less licking and more biting,” and her muzzle widened into a downright vicious grin.\n\n\tThe stag, standing attentively nearby, gulped visibly, and simply closed his eyes, a grimace of profound dread flickering across his features.\n\n\tPria noticed, and chuckled softly, then mused to her fellow citizens, “There are a few... pertinent details to my love life, that I haven’t mentioned or shown. All my friend has to judge by is that I’ve had exclusively female lovers since we started working together, and that I favor Roxanarra spiritually. I may prefer girls, but I certainly don’t mind men; every once in a while I hunger for the sort of stuffing that fingers or a tongue aren’t big enough for, but most hands are too big to render enjoyable. I also have a Kathallic prayer I use occasionally... It’s a rather large favor, so I save it for special occasions, and saving our home kingdom from an unwinnable war had better qualify...” She bowed her head, and murmured, “Kathalla... please gift this slave... with Pola’s Pain.”\n\n\tA spiritual chuckle reached all five gathered souls, *Of course, My dear. I’d actually grant this favor far more often than you feel worthy of asking, as Roxy enjoys it each time I do, but I value too the respect you show, never asking My aid frivolously. For that respect, I greatly value your devotion, minor as it may seem to you... and it is done. Enjoy your evening.*\n\n\tFayette blinked several times and asked, “What... is Pola’s Pain? I’m... rather extremely confused, here.” Her husband simply nodded, that same condition visible on his features.\n\n\t“It’s nothing even remotely like what it sounds,” the wolf chuckled, reaching for the tray of condiments and utensils in the middle of the table, where she fetched an ordinary dinner fork. Glancing up to the slave, she ordered firmly, “Come over here and hold out your arm.” Her expression softened just a bit, “You’re probably feeling... a bit odd, but not bad... Am I right?”\n\n\tThe buck nodded as he moved nearer, “Y... yes, Mistress. It’s almost like the one time my last owner gave me a glass of brandy, but... n-not quite.” Still a bit reluctantly, he held out his arm, eyes half-closed and a wince on his features as he braced himself.\n\n\t“What you are feeling... is those tiny aches, pains, and discomfort that come with every day of mortal life, the ones we hardly even notice. After all, we’re used to them! One very tiny, yet oh-so-profound, thing has changed, though. You’re no longer capable of feeling pain. Anything that would normally hurt... now causes a precisely-equal degree of physical pleasure, and that ‘good feeling’ that’s got you halfway out of your sheath already is those daily pains, transformed.” The slave’s blink was of disbelief instead of dread, this time, but she proved it soon enough, grabbing his wrist with one hand then stabbing the fork’s tines into his arm a good half-inch deep with the other.\n\n\tThe pointy, dusky pink that had been peeking out of his sheath swelled, a strong spurt of fluid dribbling out while it was still firming, a bit translucent for seed but the best his body could provide on almost no notice. Another, whiter dollop followed, and several sets of eyes widened with pleased anticipation as that flesh reached a smoothly-tapered eight inches, its girth still expanding slightly as it hardened. “That’s... ma’am... Mistress, this feels wonderful!”\n\n\tPria nodded with a grin as she pulled the fork free and returned it to the table, reaching instead to gather a finger-full of his fluids to lick clean. “It’s even better for a man,” she mused between licks, “as having one climax after another would normally be its own form of agony. Not this time, though... We’re going to cut you, rip you, bite out chunks of bloody flesh, and literally tear you apart... but you’ll probably be coming blood instead of seed, your shrunken balls having nothing left to give after such unimaginable pleasure, before you finally pass on to the Fanged Goddess’ heaven where you need never toil again.”\n\n\tNodding eagerly, his eyes bright, the buck carefully climbed onto the half of the table not occupied by the wine, “Ooh... thank you, Mistress, and I wish you enjoyment of all my body has to offer!”\n\nChapter 10\n\n\t“The origins of the Vivenge Empire were... a bit more tumultuous than most nations,” Elaria explained to her friends and family as they journeyed. Unlike the trip from Crown Port, they were all together in the carriage this time. Brathor, the somewhat grizzled bear at the reins, had been the senior NCO of the embassy and near retirement, but he’d fought as well as any of his troopers during the attack. The thrust that had missed his lungs by barely an inch had been a painful reminder of his own mortality, though, and he’d wanted to retire in Unicorn Vale for as long as it had been open, so the circumstances of the day had offered an opportunity he’d leapt at. “Very shortly after the Vale was created, the lord of the bordering barony killed his king and set himself up as an outright military dictator. He only needed two thirds of his standing army to guard the borders and maintain order, and even one third being free for unrestrained offensive action was a decisive advantage. Less than ten years after he’d finished conquering the lands that now make up the empire, though, his efforts to dispossess the defeated nobles backfired, and it was his turn to be assassinated. The only remnant of his dictatorship is that his name’s still on the holding of his original kingdom, roughly the size that we’d call a duchy these days, and it’s still referred to on official documents as the Maurere Military District.”\n\n\tThe other three travelers nodded, Ronnel musing, “As a serf, and well south of Dengar’s border with Vivenge, I heard very little like the history you describe... but, more than once, travelers on long journeys had much to say about the empire, mostly in terms of annoyance... except for those traveling from Vivenge, who expressed wonder and relief. Almost certainly due to its size, the empire has many more layers of administration than we’re accustomed to, with citizens having to provide documentation, submit to records checks, and the like, just as part of their daily life.”\n\n\tHis wife raised one finger in emphasis, “Exactly, but that only applies to civilian life. If they had to go through their bureaucracy to fight a war, they’d have been conquered by any passing gang of bandits long ago. Each holding of county size or larger has its own general, and they take their orders directly from the emperor, allowing for mobilization with minimal delays. Even if they’re attacked from an unexpected direction while the bulk of the army’s elsewhere, exactly as we’re planning, they have simply enormous reserve forces, though overuse thereof would severely impact their economy. You see, about two thirds of their male population serves a mandatory four-year enlistment, from ages fourteen to eighteen... unless, and this is the only reason they aren’t all soldiers, they can demonstrate a skilled vocation that service would interfere with. A far smaller percentage of the population forms the permanent army, but on very limited notice they can raise a militia that actually has some semblance of effective training. Permanent-posting local officers provide the command structure, and large stockpiles of arms at strategic locations cover the necessary equipment.”\n\n\tThe girls on the other bench shared a wincing glance, Serra looking back to comment, “That... sounds pretty hopeless, on the surface... but you did mention an economic aspect. All those farmers, carters, masons, carpenters... the people who stand at the ‘bottom’ of society, but who actually support it and make it work... they can’t risk losing them, can they?”\n\n\tThe vixen nodded, smiling grimly, “That’s half of what might make this work, right there. The other half, much like our initial plans for Atheria, is time. We’ll try to spring our trap and issue ultimatums from a position of strength before they can gather forces from a broad area. Despite its title as a military district, the capitol is actually their weakest point in terms of raw troops. It’s where most of the ‘good families’ are, and thus the source of the bulk of their officer cadets, but it also sports the highest concentration of bureaucrats. The ratio of commoners in their reserve to civil servants, the social elite, and outright aristocrats is lower there than anywhere else in the nation, and the number of surrounding, relatively defenseless farming communities is actually higher, just to feed the high-born. Their central location, with better-defended holdings on all sides except that of the Vale, is their only real protection. They could indeed raise a worthwhile force if they drafted every one of those farmers and the city’s laborers... but significant casualties among those troops would decimate the local workforce, possibly beyond recovery. Mind you, I don’t want to slaughter those kinds of troops... but if the only way to get them to recall their east-bound army is to give them a choice between putting soldiers in the vegetable fields or starving their way through an economic depression, I’ll do it.”\n\n\tHer girlfriend also looking a bit more optimistic as the hypothetical scenario was described, Pria nodded back, “As Keesanrel proved, we can’t count on a monarch being reasonable or even seeing reality objectively, but this sounds like we have an actual chance. If they choose to fight, the ‘military district’ will be left on the brink of collapse, or possibly just over it, and we shouldn’t forget the empire’s early history either. I’m sure they haven’t... One of those generals in the east, with their standing army so convenient, just might solve the problem for us, and decide that their own emperor’s throne is an easier target than going through the entire Atherian army. After all, it’s hard to love a bureaucracy, or feel great loyalty to it, and that’s the face of the empire most commonly shown to its citizenry, generals included.”\n\n\tThe ex-ambassador quirked a brow, “Now there... is something I honestly hadn’t thought of, and it’s a good idea. If we simply weaken them enough, you’re right, an internal insurgency is actually a fairly likely outcome. Such a case would also give the general-turned-emperor in question something to worry about other than us; he’d need his army right where it was, to keep order and maintain his reign until it was firmly enough established to boast a semblance of legitimacy. Thanks, sis; I’ll be keeping that in mind as the plans unfold into reality.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tElaria glanced west by the light of the rising sun, and had to take a moment from fastening her saddlebags to close her eyes and savor the memory of last night. The inn called the Rainbow Sunset had been aptly named; just east of the Vale border, and sporting a large dining balcony facing west, it was perfectly positioned to catch the fading sunlight through the shimmering ripple of Malia’s Wall. Moving as she did among the highest levels of secular and temporal power, it had been a long time since she’d felt the kind of sheer awe that view had inspired, and she and her husband had both murmured prayers of thanks to their mutual Goddess for the moving experience.\n\n\tTurning away from her horse, she nodded at the sight of her sister finishing the check for anything they might have dropped or misplaced in the carriage, then glanced to the waiting otter in rough clothing, holding out a small pouch, “Here’s one Drachathian gold crown worth of local silver and copper to feed you on the trip... and when you hand over the note I already gave you at the embassy, they’ll give you three times as much in whatever currency you desire. Just be careful with the note itself; if you break the wax, it’ll ruin the enchantment that proves it’s from me.”\n\n\tThe farmer’s son nodded, grinning, “Not a problem, ma’am; I’ll keep it inside. With only th’ one horse, it’ll prob’ly take me jus’ over a week, then two more fer th’ hike back, but won’t my da be surprised when I come back wit’ enough cash t’ get those two plow-horses we need, wit’ somethin’ left over t’ buy my girl a pretty.” At her nod of agreement, he climbed up onto the driver’s bench and took up the reins, a light flick and a gentle tug urging the horse into a slow turn back toward the rising sun.\n\n\tSix horses had been overkill for pulling the well-built carriage, but it left the family, their friend, and their guide free to ride on when the road ran out, while leaving one for the trip back to Atheria City. The bear still looked a bit uncomfortable in the saddle, as he’d been born a far cry from the landed (meaning mounted) nobility and had spent his career in the infantry, rarely having anything to do with cavalry. Since she was the only one still standing around, Elaria nodded to herself and climbed into her own saddle, “Let’s go, folks. We’ll probably need to camp tonight, but the unicorn villages won’t be much farther.”\n\n\tThe end of the town’s road was marked by a small guardpost, an apparent oddity until the vixen tried leading her party past it. “Hold!” a surprised voice yelled from inside, and a moment later a white fox scrambled out, still adjusting his sword belt and badge. White in more ways than one; he seemed to glow faintly from within, and Elaria’s eyes flicked past his junior lieutenant’s bars to fasten on the bronze casting of an open hand, symbol of an acolyte of Shattrathin. “Pardon, ma’am,” he said more normally, “but I can’t let you pass. The barrier up ahead would stop you soon enough, but it would kill that cat with you, and a couple of other souls in your group are also at risk... I think. I must admit I haven’t ever seen anyone quite like you or that wolf before.”\n\n\tSmiling, the priestess took one hand off the reins to tug open the neck of her traveling cloak, and she did her best to keep from smirking as the man’s eyes widened at her collection of necklaces. “You do well to at least warn us, Lieutenant,” she replied, “but there are exceptions to every rule. I’ve not yet asked Her specifically... but this won’t be the first time Malia has let me through Her wall. That same time I passed, a Kathallic every bit as devout as my companion was equally welcome. You see, I grew up in Unicorn Vale, and my first visit was before the border-crossing in Chraf even existed. We’re... expected.”\n\n\tThe fox blinked, “Before? That was nearly twenty... oh, Gods! A vixen and a Kathallic? That would make Sir Ferrl, Vengeance of the Horned Ones, your father! That story was part of my classes on inter-faith relations!” He managed to recover some of his aplomb as he snapped to attention, then bowed shallowly, “Though I never thought to meet someone so famous... you, if anyone, have every right to travel this way, and I apologize for delaying your journey.”\n\n\tSeveral of her companions chuckling softly, she sketched a salute as she nodded, “Like I said, you’re only doing your duty, and it’s a good and necessary one too. Good watch to you, Lieutenant,” then nudged her horse into a walk toward that many-hued barrier in the distance.\n\n* * *\n\n\tThe border-crossing had involved a wry comment from Malia about assumptions, but Her tone had been amused, with an underlying sense of determination. The Goddess of the Arts valued justice, and years of covert planning culminating in an unprovoked invasion wasn’t something She’d care to see come to pass. It wasn’t the sort of thing a God would oppose directly, being a strictly mortal problem, but that didn’t mean She wouldn’t help one of Her mortals when they set out to do something about it.\n\n\tBrathor was waiting for her, an odd look on his face, when Elaria crawled out of the small tent she’d shared with her husband; last night had been warm enough, but a light rain had also fallen. “What is it?” she asked.\n\n\t“We’re not alone, ma’am,” the bear began, obviously at something of a loss for words. “Far from it... When I’m on deployment, I’m never comfortable without a quick scouting foray in the morning, and when I climbed that hill ahead of us... are you sure the Drachathian army is still a duchy away? Because there’s a pretty major encampment over there. They’ve got sentries of their own, so I didn’t stick around for a precise count, but it’s more tents than I’ve ever seen in one place!”\n\n\tBlinking away the last hints of sleep, she immediately changed her mental ‘hat’ to that of the army colonel she’d rarely needed to act as, “Girls! Armor up and get your swords. Ronnel, ready the horses to run if we have to. Leave the tents; if this is a friendly force we’ll have time to pack them up, but if not they’ll only slow us down. Brathor, show me!” The small camp was very suddenly a buzz of activity, and she grabbed one of her own swords, still in her short nightgown and barefoot, as she followed the sergeant up the hill.\n\n\tThe ground was still soft from the rain, and the hill wasn’t very steep; both soldiers moved almost silently, though as they climbed the noise of an army having breakfast gradually grew. The bear pointed, and the vixen nodded wordlessly, heading for the indicated bushes where the land dipped slightly, then hunkered down without a thought about the satin she was muddying and crawled the rest of the way to peek through...\n\n\t“Brathor, you’re a fine soldier, but this time you’re an idiot,” she hissed after one glance. “I know it’s hard to make out details from this distance, but didn’t you notice that every single person in that camp has white fur? It’s the unicorns!”\n\n\tThe sergeant blinked, then grimaced, abashed, “I... didn’t think of that, ma’am. I was too overwhelmed by the size of the force; there have to be two thousand troops there!”\n\n\tChuckling as she backed out of the bushes, Elaria could only nod, “That there are... Regular militia and Elite, that’s the entire army of the Vale. In any case, they already know we’re here. The Elite scouts wouldn’t leave a hill like this unchecked, and we’d never have seen a hint of them. I did see, though, that the commander’s tent is on our side of the camp, rather than in the middle, and I recognize that coat of arms. Long ears, a scrotum, and a boot; that’s General Dame Julara down there, their commander in chief. Come on, let’s go tell the others not to worry.”\n\n\tProperly dressed and packed this time, the five travelers rode up the hill and over, the colonel in the lead. Even the well-traveled vixen had to hide a blink of surprise at their reception, though. The sentries should have called out the moment they saw anyone; instead, each one, as they caught sight of the party, stopped their patrol to instead stand at attention, silently watching. A few faint murmurs were heard, spreading the word, and soldier after soldier climbed out of their tents, lining the ‘streets’ of the small tent city, all rigidly erect and looking on with respect. The two young rabbits flanking the commander’s tent flap, the only colored fur seen so far, stood identically, and finally Dame Julara herself emerged, her hand beating Elaria’s to a salute. “Dame,” she acknowledged as they finally reined in within earshot.\n\n\t“Dame,” her fellow Maliite knight nodded.\n\n\tThe middle-aged rabbit moved closer, her stride slow, almost formal, then spoke again, “Colonel Dame Elaria... please dismount, though you needn’t kneel.” When the vixen was standing just out of arm’s reach, she went on, “I received word of a... rather uneven fight, though the direction of advantage was other than expected. One hundred fine soldiers in full plate, outnumbering your force by over two to one, yet they were annihilated, exactly forty-one falling to your blades, with eight more fatalities by your husband’s bare hands and far lighter casualties among your troops than anyone could ever expect. You are, without a doubt, the finest warrior I have ever met or will ever meet, and by the standards of the Elite you should have my rank...” and her expression softened at the pained, half-panicked wince this elicited, and she hastened to assure her, “but you’d not accept it, and rightly so. For administrative reasons if nothing else, I must continue to command this army that I personally dragged out of the dark ages. Nonetheless, your prowess must be honored, and I promote you at this time to brigadier general and name you second in command of the New Vale Militia, in person or by proxy at your whim, as even I would never dare to give you another actual order.”\n\n\tThe new general certainly hadn’t expected anything like this when she’d woken up... but a decade and change of formal situations managed to substitute for a prepared speech, and she nodded again, “I can only thank you for the honor you’ve shown me... and, at least for the near future, I will not delegate my command to a proxy.” She looked around at the assembled army and raised her voice, “The palace guards whom I fought, the elite of their own land, were excellent soldiers... but never have I seen better troops than those of Unicorn Vale! It would be my honor to lead the way as either a show of force to remind an entire empire that justice and fair play matter... or to crush their capitol as a painful and deserved object lesson if no other option remains. I was born in Drachath, and the armies of my homeland will be here soon, but there is no other force I would rather take into battle than the one right here!”\n\n\tSeveral unicorns in the rear ranks started cheering at that, quickly quieted by stern looks from their officers, but Julara overrode them, turning to face the massed warriors and shout, “Hail, General Elaria!”\n\n\t“Hail!” the army yelled back as one.\n\n\tTurning back to the newcomers, the rabbit waited for their ears to perk back up after being flattened by sheer volume, and looked up at the dark-furred fox, “Ronnel, priest of Malia... please dismount as well, approach, and kneel. You may think that you played a relatively minor role in your wife’s mission to Atheria, but it has not gone unnoticed.”\n\n\tBlinking, the fox scrambled down and glanced at his vixen... who simply nodded with an encouraging smile. Sinking to one knee, he dipped his head respectfully, “Ma’am...”\n\n\tDrawing her sword, the knight took one more step forward and touched the blade to his shoulder, “For your faith, for your support and useful suggestions, for your prowess, and for a fearless stand against an unjust attack with neither armor nor weapons to aid you...” and the steel kissed his shoulder opposite, “I dub you Sir Ronnel of the Maliite Order, the Swordless Knight!” Sheathing her sword, she reached down to pull him up by his hand, “Rise, Sir Ronnel!”\n\n\tThis time, no one bothered to hush the soldiers when they started cheering.\n\n* * *\n\n\t“The cart was the trickiest part of the plan,” Julara concluded her tale, “but it was worth the effort to design and build. It looked just like any other prisoner transport, but the bars were on hinges and we didn’t bother giving it a roof. All those bandits saw was a caravan like any other, with a few slaves along with the export goods they’d come to steal, and only the four obvious guards they expected. It was... your kind of fight, since for obvious reasons the ‘slaves’ had to be naked, but there were plenty of weapons in the bed of that cart out of sight.” She snorted around a smile, “My guess that the common folk, thieves included, had never heard the entire story about Ferrl’s triumph proved accurate. They simply didn’t realize that any ‘unicorn slave’ except Ria had to be a fake. They attacked, the cart walls came down, and that filly who’d enlisted as the first female besides myself in the militia’s history had just passed her lieutenant exam in the Elite the week before. She and five good studs made mincemeat out of the gang, and the few who survived to run ran into four platoons of regulars she’d had sweeping around the sides of the route at a distance. We lined the road from Chraf with their heads, and haven’t had a problem with bandits since.”\n\n\tHer other companions chuckling along, Elaria nodded, “The scale may have been smaller, but that’s the sort of object lesson we’re on our way to deliver now, and it’s an effective one. I’m glad to hear you’ve had more than paperwork and drill to keep you occupied, regardless.”\n\n\tThe rabbit smirked, and gestured to the fawn and white figures riding to either side as her honor guard, “I’ve also had the twins to keep life interesting... Things may not have worked out with their father, since he lusted after my muscles but actually only wanted a housewife, my duties souring things... but they’re growing up into fine soldiers, and I’m proud of them.”\n\n\tThe vixen nodded again with a sigh, “I have a son too, these days... and I miss his playful scamper, his surprising questions, even the ear-piercing squeal when he gets a note wrong on his piccolo... but we’re almost to Silkmane, and the embassy’s not far beyond. My whole family, except my brother the new proxy earl, is there. It hasn’t quite been a month since I’ve seen them, but it feels like years.”\n\n\t“Hoofstomp has certainly grown since we were first escorted into it, those years ago,” the commander chuckled, “but its change from a farming village to the national hub of trade, to say nothing of hosting three embassies, works in our favor this time. Other towns have taken up the yoke of food production, so the old fields will be a perfect place to gather our armies for the final march. Lachier modified your proposed plan somewhat since you left Atheria City... There’d already been a hefty mobilization in Northlook, they and Rajai’s local troops moving at a forced march, so the first few battalions are already here, with brigades not far behind. Soldiers in Gatuque, Crisom, and Fariach are spreading out behind them, to maintain Drachath’s security while roughly thirty percent of the standing army is elsewhere. That’ll give us, oh, maybe forty thousand soldiers in total, including this motley lot behind us.” One of the marching company commanders snorted behind her, and she grinned over her shoulder before continuing, “We’ve drafted a few farmers to set up facilities for about ten thousand troops, and scouts have already crossed the northern border, other labor cadres ready to build four main camps on Vivenge’s soil where they won’t be immediately discovered, and we’ll send each group along as the local muster-point fills up.”\n\n\tSerra shook her head in mild wonder and commented, “This is... a lot more complicated than I ever really thought about, the term ‘army’ having been just an abstract. I take back every bad thing I ever said about the ‘parchment-shufflers’ in my own city militia. The logistics of a mobilization this size have to be horrendous, and I can only respect the soldiers who only command a desk, but who coordinate movement orders, arrange supply trains, and all the other million and one details it takes to keep a massive force fed, mobile, and healthy.”\n\n\t“Just one more of the many things you’re learning on this trip,” Elaria agreed with a sidelong glance, then looked back to her commander, “Four groups sounds good. We can keep enough distance between them to supplement the supply trains with foraging, including farm raids to prove we’re serious. I think we should split up the Vale’s troops to match, too. One short battalion for each of Drachath’s reinforced brigades, out in front as a visible sign of Malia’s tacit support, and we’ll give each of them a few of the Elite to serve as covert scouts and possibly assassinate a commander or two in a surgical night-raid... but I want most of the Elite at my own back. We should be able to manage two full companies, if the roster’s anything like I remember it.”\n\n\tJulara nodded firmly, “That’s a very sound plan, Brigadier. The Elite currently consists of three companies divided into six platoons each, and we’ll trade out two platoons with regulars, making a short battalion with a special forces element in each group. The exact mix of ranks will be a bit non-standard, but you probably already knew that. Orders from you, regarding just how the troops in question are to be employed, should smooth things over with more conventional generals and colonels, since I seem to recall the king forwarding a message to your father, to the effect that the overall battle plan is to be yours no matter how strange it may seem. Magic or no, you’re the de facto Agent on the scene, so like your role as ambassador, your words are Lachier’s.”\n\n\tPria interrupted their shared nods and almost bloodthirsty grins to point out, “Silkmane’s coming into view now... and I see steam rising from around several large wagons. I think it’s time to halt the column and have lunch.”\n\n\tMore than one belly in the group rumbled, and Julara called over her shoulder, “Lieutenant Colonel Lindren! Deploy by companies for a brief halt. Get a latrine trench dug downwind, and send a platoon to each wagon at a time. It’s time to eat!”\n\nChapter 11\n\n\tA crystalline chime jogged Elaria out of her dreams, a warm body nestled against her side, and she savored its closeness before the sound repeated a bit louder. Sighing, she carefully levered herself away from her husband, sitting at the small folding desk in the command tent and picking up the large piece of quartz that had been ringing. A glance through the tent flap showed that it was almost, but not quite, dawn, but Fariach was far enough east for the sun to be up there. Sure enough, as she set the crystal in its ornate base with several other stones and the sounds of breathing behind her faded, Lachier’s voice spoke within the privacy shroud, “I know I probably woke you, Ela...” and she had to smile. Other than her father, given her various ranks and titles, he was the only man in the world with the rank and sheer balls to use her old slave name, and enough of a friend that she didn’t mind in the least. “I haven’t gotten much rest, myself. I was up half the night in polite argument with the Vivenge consulate, and spent the other half surrounded by bodyguards inside their embassy while I spoke to the emperor himself. Officially, they don’t believe a word of it, and they’re not even consistent in their disbelief. Drachath and Atheria were so close to being at each others’ throats that we couldn’t be allies now. We killed their king, so we can’t be allies now. The council can’t simply pick and choose a new king, so Tyron can’t possibly ratify a treaty and, you guessed it, we can’t be allies now. There’s no clear route between us and their capitol, so our ‘threat’ is without substance. My hint that Dengar would let our troops through their territory as a return favor for not raising a stink over Talaya was simply and flatly ignored. The Atherian army has to be massed at the south to invade us, and they don’t know how we talked someone into building ‘fake’ army camps along the northern border, but our threat is still without substance. If Keesanrel III is, indeed, dead, then his son Keesanrel IV, currently confined to the Atherian embassy in Maurere, must be the legitimate king, and if we do invade they’ll kill him.”\n\n\tThe vixen’s muzzle worked, somewhere between amusement and disgust, “By now, their own spies have to be reporting that the Atherians are marching north; if they were as ready to move as they’d need to be to invade us, they’re at least halfway to the northern border by now. That completely aside, if our threats are so empty, why would they need to make one of their own against the ‘legitimate’ king?”\n\n\tHer liege’s voice was whimsical as he agreed, “I did mention a certain lack of consistency, didn’t I? I tried to make exactly those points to the emperor, but he called off the meeting, claiming it was so far past midnight that he was in no fit state to make binding statements about imperial policy. I, though, am still awake enough to understand what’s behind all of these excuses and conflicting positions. Ela... they’re scared. We, as a nation, have always been fairly reliably honest in our relations, and they have to know that Tyron’s demonstrated a similar bent in stark contrast to Atheria’s history. I never actually said we were routing soldiers through Dengar, but they’re probably reinforcing that border anyway, which might take some of the heat off of you when you launch your little surprise. Tyron’s scouts indicate that the army north of them is spreading out... They’d been one mass before, for a simple march straight through to Drachath, but it’s obvious they’re taking the ‘threat’ seriously no matter the official position, and preparing for a broad front where both sides will attack any point that seems weak.”\n\n\tNodding even if he couldn’t see it, his ex-ambassador reported, “We’re still waiting on a battalion or two from the east end of Northlook, but my father reported that they’ve entered the Vale and should be here within two more days. We’ll give them one more day to rest after the march, which is about the time that our stockpiles will start running out and we’d have to raid and forage anyway, as the ongoing supply trains have to be limited to avoid discovery. Since you were able to keep our actual route a secret, we haven’t seen anyone except a noble’s hunting party, and that was at a distance from our well-hidden sentry perimeter; all four camps are still covert and secure.”\n\n\tShe got the impression that the king had nodded too, his voice grim as he agreed, “Good. At noon of that third day, I will deliver a formal declaration of war to the consulate, and I’ll let Tyron know to repudiate his mutual defense treaty one hour earlier, and I officially release you and order you to begin operations on the fourth morning from this one. Don’t ignore targets of opportunity, but your goal is the capture or destruction of the city of Maurere, and I’d take it kindly if you could avoid the mass slaughter of civilians or any other atrocities.”\n\n\t“And what will our new ally’s timing be like?”\n\n\t“Officially,” the ‘coon replied, a hint of amusement reentering his tone, “Atheria and Vivenge are still on the footing of friendly powers. Tyron has that edict of renunciation I mentioned ready and approved by his council, to be issued whenever he deems fit, but he’ll try to stretch out the formal accusations and denials out long enough, even without a treaty, for word of your attack to reach the east. While we, as the more distant party, can’t harbor any realistic territorial ambitions, my fellow king and I agree that Vivenge deserves a bit more than a bloody nose for this whole business of attempting to manipulate and then conquer both of our kingdoms. At the first sign of demoralization or other trouble across his northern border, his entire army will simultaneously attack along the whole front, with the goal of nipping off a county or two of territory to permanently annex.”\n\n\tIt was Elaria’s turn for a grim smile, sharp canines peeking out from her lips, “Good for him. Ambition on behalf of one’s kingdom is not, by itself, a bad thing, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to go about it. Let’s hope Keesanrel IV, if he survives this, can learn the difference. For now, your Majesty, it looks like my husband is waking up, so I should get with my fellow brigadiers and coordinate for four days from now.”\n\n\t“Thank you, Ela. For everything.”\n\n* * *\n\n\t“You can’t be serious about this!” the immaculately-groomed lion in imperial robes and a heavy crown insisted. More than just voices were being exchanged this time; at the emperor’s request, the imperial archmage had worked hard overnight, and both crowned heads could see and address each other through the smallish circles of glass that had been exchanged by diplomatic gate. “We don’t even share a border; how could you even think to declare war, with no hope of carrying it out?!?”\n\n\t“I’m as serious as the heart attack which killed my father, Surianel,” Lachier replied. “My forces are already in place, four full brigades counting the entirety of our second ally’s army. It’s not just Tyron and I who have a stake in this, you know. The reason your spies haven’t been able to report conclusively on my troop movements is that we’ve taken the one route you never thought you could be attacked from. The army co-mingled with mine... consists of unicorns.” He glanced at a multi-chambered hourglass to confirm the time, then smiled benignly, “Now should be late enough... Look out of the southeast window of your suite, your Imperial Majesty. You should see smoke rising... from the farms around your city. The farmers should be alive, unless some foolishly tried to resist, and well-kept as prisoners of war, but their produce and livestock are now my army’s property.”\n\n\tThe emperor blinked helplessly at the darkened sky he could see from where he sat that very moment... then half-screamed, “Get me my generals! The city’s under attack!” even as he grabbed the magical disc and threw it to the floor to shatter into a hundred pieces.\n\n* * *\n\n\t\n\n\tThe city of Maurere had been built to impress visitors with its sheer, imperial magnificence. The avenues were broad, often meeting in public squares with huge, ornate fountains. Toward the center of town, tall buildings were limited in frequency so almost every street had a view of the majesty of the palace. The outer walls were high and thick, and the gates ornately decorated... but both had missed the minor point of being militarily significant. A walkway along the battlements was all they offered, less than a hundred desperate archers raining arrows on the four approaching columns from behind the shelter of blocks of stone, but the bulk of the invading forces had shields, held overhead, those in the front ranks holding larger ones in both hands. Occasionally an arrow or bolt would find a gap and a soldier would fall, but there were always more to take their place, and lucky shots with crossbows from between shields were taking a marginally greater toll on the defenders, the pale gold stone streaked in several places with blood. If the city had ever been designed for serious defense, those walls would be hollow, with frequent firing slits through which far more archers could fire from a position of safety. The gates, too, showed their budget-conscious construction as the front ranks dissolved into a charge, dodging amidst the hovels of those too poor to live within the walls and attacking with axes, which bit deep into the light, well-preserved pine that supported the gilded imperial crest. It would have cost a fortune, for each gate, to transport, assemble, and reliably hinge enough tons of hardwood to mount a credible defense, and the much softer reality gave way within five minutes, ragged holes chipped out over, and then through, maple locking bars.\n\n\tElaria seethed inside at being unable to lead the invasion as personally as she’d hoped... Julara had reminded her, and Lachier had confirmed it, that a general’s duty was to command, not to personally fight alongside their troops. An honor guard of Elite unicorns surrounded her mobile command post, kept just out of arrow-shot and moving in small leaps as her front line advanced, and runners with tower shields held overhead came and went. “Second brigade reports breach of the south gate!” one yelled as he neared.\n\n\tThe vixen nodded and snapped to the nearest fresh messenger, “Tell them to hug the walls while they file through in unit order. We haven’t seen any oil or pitch pots yet, so that will keep them safest from arrows, and tell them to spread out to all streets. Brigade, regiment, battalion, company, platoon, squad; an even split at every intersection, kill anyone with a weapon in hand, but accept surrenders or I’ll have the offending unit flayed!”\n\n\tThe runner, a unicorn this time and strong enough for heavy armor in addition to his shield, saluted, “Yes, ma’am!” and dashed off.\n\n\tAnother one popped up almost immediately, “Fourth brigade reports breach of the east gate!”\n\n\tElaria repeated herself to the next available troop, then stepped up to the two behind him, “You two, get to the first and third brigades! Tell them to circle around and join their nearer comrades; I want to leave the north and west gates free for anyone who’d rather run than fight.” She ignored the salutes, already turning to a fourth runner, “Make sure the prison camp is ready. The company commanders know to stop when they reach the palace walls, and it won’t be long before I move to phase two and the guards and staff will need to be ready.”\n\n\tThe expected flow of the battle was interrupted by the next message, “Second brigade, second regiment, first battalion, third company reports defectors. They’ve had plenty of outright surrenders, but two platoons of city militia want to join our side!”\n\n\t“Message to commanding officer, third company, first battalion, second regiment, second brigade,” she snapped to an earlier runner who’d caught his breath and rejoined the line. “Kill them.”\n\n\tThe soldier blinked, a bit shocked, then saluted and ran off.\n\n\tRonnel looked a question at her, and she answered it with a sad sigh, “Battlefield defections... can never be trusted. They’ve shown what kind of soldiers they are just by offering, and even if they’re sincere it’s the wrong mentality for any troop I want to command. In all likelihood, they aren’t sincere, and it’s some clever lieutenant’s idea of a good way to get deep enough behind our lines to do some serious damage, and we can’t have that either.”\n\n\tHer husband nodded, “I... understand. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but this is no duel with rules and honor. This is war, and you’d be derelict in your duty if you weren’t as hard and cold as it takes to win with minimum loss of life.”\n\n\tElaria simply nodded, blinked away a stray tear, then turned her attention back to the next runner who was rushing toward her.\n\n* * *\n\n\tTwo Junior Agents, the former ambassador, her husband, and half a dozen members of the New Vale Militia Elite walked down the deserted street, hands near their weapons and eyes alert for soldiers or even panicked citizens who might be intent on an ambush. Each alley they passed brought a rush of noise; crying children, sobbing mothers, and the grim, half-numb tread of their brothers and husbands, carrying only what they’d been able to grab on no notice while marching down adjacent avenues lined with cold-faced invaders. Whether they believed it or not, a hot, nutritious meal and as much comfort as could be offered under the circumstances awaited them at the prison camp, but all they knew this moment was that their city had been invaded despite imperial assurances of safety, and conquered in what seemed like an unimaginably short time. Here and there lines of soldiers with buckets worked on dousing the flames of battle; fire had not been used as a weapon this time, but panicked commoners could be careless with lamps, candles, and hearths, and one squad per company had come prepared to make use of the public fountains and wells as soon as the fighting died down.\n\n\tThe group rounded another corner, and Elaria had to smile to herself at the structure coming into view. The walls around this small complex were a bit more properly made, spearmen patrolling the battlements while hard-eyed archers peered through narrow slits, arrows at the ready. “Hello, the embassy!” she called as she neared. “I am Brigadier General Dame Elaria of Drachath... Is the ambassador still safe?”\n\n\tOne of the doors in the stubby towers flanking the gate opened, and a cougar in the same armor as the rest of the guards stepped out onto the wall’s walkway, calling back, “I am he... and you have fifteen seconds to prove your identity or my archers will shoot.”\n\n\tThe vixen blinked once, then hastened to reply, “I swear by Malia, Roxanarra, and Kathalla that I am who I claimed to be.”\n\n\tA few more of those precious seconds ticked by as the cat awaited evidence of divine retribution... then nodded, “Well met, then, Dame Elaria. I have heard... interesting tales about your time in my homeland, but I can bear you no rancor for them. Reports from several different sources, many of whom rarely agree, made it clear enough; my father was insane, and brought his fate upon himself.”\n\n\tRelieved for more reason than one, Elaria continued, “Tyron will be pleased that you survived, as he doesn’t want the crown that is yours by right of inheritance, and my own king will be pleased at your grasp of pragmatic reason that your father seemed to lose hold of in his final days. I will not ask for entry at this time, nor demand that you leave your sovereign territory; it is enough for my comfort simply that you live and are not excessively ill-disposed toward the way events have unfolded. I journey now toward the palace... The common citizens of Maurere are presently detained, but will be released once my business there is done, either the emperor’s unconditional surrender, or the reduction of the seat of his power to flaming rubble. My catapults are ready, stones and firepots alike, so please be prepared for a lot of very loud noise about twenty minutes from now if it proves necessary.”\n\n\tKeesanrel shook his head, eyes wide, “I... strongly doubt that you will get the surrender you ask for. This is but one city in an entire empire; he still has vast armies, which you’ve barely scratched, and he knows it.”\n\n\tThe general smirked grimly, “I share your estimation of the man, but honor demands that I extend him the option. If he declines it as we both expect, then the armies he’s summoned will return to find the city almost intact, most of its population unhurt and with their possessions unplundered, but the palace and central government simply gone, while my army will begin its march of retreat before the sun sets this very day, back across Malia’s Wall where no hostile force may follow. I invite you, and any of your staff or guard who wish to accompany you, to follow the same way, as we anticipate a certain amount of... domestic upheaval, during which I can make no promises about your safety nor the sanctity of your embassy. It will be some time before they have a government with which to conduct formal relations, and you still have a crown waiting for you at home.”\n\n\tThe uncrowned king nodded slowly as he considered, then again more firmly, “I accept your offer on behalf of my entire delegation, for we are your allies, and after as stinging a blow as you have dealt, and will still deal, today, we cannot rely upon the conventions of diplomacy for our safety. We shall pack everything vital, destroy what must not fall into unfriendly hands, and be on the march to join your forces within an hour.”\n\n* * *\n\n\tSurianel wrung his hands as he paced helplessly back and forth in his bedchamber, his collared concubines watching him nervously. This was unheard-of! Attacking a city, any city, conquering it, and retreating, all on the same day?!? The demand that he surrender his entire empire to a force his armies could crush like a bug was unbearable! That force, though, was here, while his army was several hundred leagues away. Already, the nearest garrisons were drafting and arming those who’d completed their mandatory terms, but they couldn’t be here for another day and a half, even at a forced march that the peasants probably couldn’t keep up anyway... and the ten minutes he’d been given to decide were almost up.\n\n\tNo, he corrected that thought, not almost, as a dot rose into the sky above his once-fine city’s walls, followed by more. Those dots grew, time itself seeming to slow as he stared, unable to do anything, even to look away. Quarter-ton boulders grew larger and larger as they neared, the first muffled booms of impact more felt through the floor than heard, and a few moments later a lucky shot crashed through the column between two windows with unimaginable force. Two of his playthings splashed, reduced to little more than a red paste across the floor, the walls, and the faces of their fellow concubines, but the emperor had no time to mourn. Following the boulders, from the same catapults and on the same trajectories, a second wave of missiles rose from beyond the walls, ones that trailed fire like comets behind them. Five hundred pounds of pitch and naphtha were overkill, for one middle-aged lion and the three surviving girls in translucent silks... but they did the job.\n\n* * *\n\n\tForty thousand soldiers marched southeast toward the distant, rainbow shimmer of Malia’s Wall and safety, followed by wagons of looted foodstuffs, the groaning wounded, and nearly three hundred dead, half of them unicorns. In the middle of that slow-moving mass, a smaller party paused at the top of a hill, turning to take one last look at the magnificent city with the cloud of oily black smoke rising from its very center.\n\n\t“I can still hardly believe it,” Keesanrel IV murmured just loud enough to be heard over the steady march of feet to either side. “When I first heard of Duke Urenhold’s treachery, and just which nation was behind it, I wistfully dreamed of such a sight... but this is no dream. The emperor, his personal guard, every one of his chief bureaucrats, and a vast quantity of the records and documents so vital to an ongoing dynasty... are simply gone, having paid a fair price for what they tried to do to my nation. Yesterday I was just an ambassador, struggling to find some negotiated settlement short of war. Today, I suppose I’m a refugee... but within a few weeks, I will be a king, decades before I ever expected to inherit.”\n\n\tElaria nudged her horse closer to his and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Not so long ago, I, too, was an ambassador struggling for peace... but that is a struggle which should only be pursued so far. By my commanders’ best estimates, somewhere between three and four thousand people have died in this conflict. If they are the last, if the generals at your northern border can be convinced that restoring their empire is more important than following the ambitions of a dead man, then it will have all been worth it. Our dream of a negotiated, diplomatic settlement was unrealistic, given Surianel’s intentions to betray you, and trying too hard would have killed far more people in the long run as we settled into a full-scale border war. I honestly think we’ve done the very best that we could reasonably hope for.”\n\n\tThe cougar could only nod, and he lifted his chin with new steel in his eyes as he turned away for the last time and nudged his mount into a walk. “On a somewhat more pleasant subject... what became of Lylae? I’m not much older than she is, after all, and it would be... nice to see her when she’s not legally my mother.”\n\n\t“You’re too late on that score, I’m afraid,” his new friend chuckled. “She seduced Tyron and, since he proved much more pleasant in bed than her ex-husband, promptly married him. She’s actually very bright and perceptive; hell, the fact that she managed to hide just how bright she was from the old king for so long should give you a good idea how smart she really is! She’s proving to be a very good queen, but will cede that title to your own consort when you’re crowned. Tyron, incidentally, strongly urges that you appoint her to the council, as she’s proven quite useful for her insight as to how any particular law or decree will affect the low-born, or the churches, having recently been promoted to the rank of acolyte in Roxanarra’s faith.”\n\n\tKeesanrel blinked hard, “She’s Roxanite? Sheesh... that cousin of mine is one lucky bastard. I simply thought she was a tavern wench who got lucky, both for marrying into nobility and for being blessed with... well, you’ve seen her!”\n\n\tBoth of the Agents giggling merrily, Elaria nodded, “That I have, and I can only agree.” At a faint cough behind her, she rolled her eyes heavenwards and said with amused exasperation, “Alright, I’ll ask him!” and fixed the somewhat confused cat with a firm look, “Since you’ve just implied that you don’t have a consort... well, one of my honor guards would like to offer, and since she’s a count’s daughter your council shouldn’t object too much. I know her fur’s a bit confusing, but for the record she’s a tigon, a crossbreed sired by a tiger upon a lioness, and she stands a good chance of being fertile with almost any of what we call ‘big cats,’ cougars included. Her breasts may not be as big as Lylae’s, but she’s not exactly ugly, and she’s certainly interested.”\n\n\tThe prospective king blinked, then glanced back over his shoulder, looking the armored teen up and down... then jerked in place as his memory made a connection, “That’s Serra, isn’t it? She matches the description on a royal pardon I got an information copy of... a pardon for regicide.”\n\n\tSerra looked a bit abashed as she spoke up, “Well, yeah... I did kill your father, but it wasn’t really anything personal. Well, almost; I really didn’t like the way he hit Lylae. Still, I rather enjoyed his spines for the brief time they were in me, and you’ve got almost as much muscle as he had fat. I’ve been having too much fun playing around to seriously consider settling down, before now, but if I were to settle on someone... Crowns aside, you’re quite simply my type.” The wolf riding alongside her pouted cutely, and she glanced over with a smile, “Well, one of my types... If you do turn out to want me, I’d have to ask that we get married in the Roxanite tradition, because I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up girls yet.”\n\n\tKeesanrel nodded slowly as he considered the unexpected offer, then glanced pointedly around, “I can’t say yea or nay right now, nor even tonight... Let’s wait ‘til we’re not in the middle of an army on the march, then... well, I’m not king yet, so in theory I’m free to dabble as I please. I would, indeed, like to share a bed with you sometime, as you’re lithe, strong, and altogether lovely, but that will have to wait ‘til we have a bed, not a sleeproll in a tent.”\n\n\t“Five or six years ago,” Elaria chimed in, “the very first temple to someone other than Malia was raised in the Vale... and it’s to Roxanarra. As Her priestess, I can see to it that you get a very comfortable bed indeed, on our way through Silkmane.”\n\nChapter 12\n\n\tHis embassy guards and staff having set up a comfortable camp just outside of the village, a small horde of unicorns immediately descending with steaming dishes that far surpassed the expected travel rations, Keesanrel climbed down from the saddle at the stable just across from the most impressive building he’d ever seen, Vivenge’s imperial palace included. It wasn’t just the size that caused that judgment; rather, the entire structure was effectively a statue, a nude, impossibly buxom vixen rising sixty feet into the air while seated on an ornate throne, and that throne itself was very deep, forming a four-story building, a bit wider than most shops or houses but extending a solid city block back between the adjacent structures. The statue’s legs were spread, and a long staircase of polished marble rose up between them, the main entrance in the expected, obscenely-detailed spot. “That,” he breathed to the man and three ladies he was with, “is what I call a temple!”\n\n\t“Unicorns are damned good at what they do,” Elaria agreed. “In fact, that’s actually two temples. There’s a back door, you see, with a discreet pair of steel fangs above it. Relatively few unicorns are of that faith, but Kathalla played a large part in laying the foundation for the prosperity the Vale currently enjoys, so Her sisters allowed a small shrine and playroom where anyone who’s likely to take offense would already be offended, so it’s entirely their loss.”\n\n\tThe rugged cat nodding and still eying the huge carving’s details, Serra mentioned a bit uncomfortably, “That’s... actually my religion, I suppose I should mention. For just a night of fun in bed, it shouldn’t even matter, but I don’t want to ruin my chances with you by starting things off on a deceptive footing. In fact, I should probably also tell you that I’m a Junior Agent of Drachath. I’ll never go any higher, as I’m no mage, but... there you have it, my only two big, bad secrets.”\n\n\tKeesanrel turned to look at her anew, blinking... “If we do get together, you’ll have to give that job up... Drachath and Atheria may be on fairly cordial terms right now, but there’s no telling how long it will last, and potential conflicts of interest must be avoided. Still, you wouldn’t be any sort of Agent unless you had a rather unusual set of very high skills, and no king can afford to turn up his nose at such. With the appropriate oaths, should we prove compatible, I’d be quite obligated to beg you to accept a similar position on Atheria’s behalf.”\n\n\tPria giggled merrily, “That would be... unique. The queen herself, a burglar and assassin? Not many nations can claim the like, even with all of history to draw from!”\n\n\t“It would certainly lead to a remarkably well-behaved kingdom,” the tigon mused. “Back in my hometown, I specialized in arranging rather... messy accidents for anyone who worked contrary to our goals and reputation. Duke Urenhold is currently in custody awaiting trial for treason, but if this were Stonecliff, he’d never live to see a magistrate. I’d probably fake an ‘escape attempt,’ and pass him through the bars of his cell window, one small piece at a time.”\n\n\tKeesanrel arched a brow, his muzzle slowly spreading into a smile, “Do you have to go straight back to Drachath? I’d be happy to provide you with maps, a good horse, and a heavy purse of gold if you could do exactly that... I don’t take kindly to treason on any day, but the way he was trying to set us up for conquest just plain pisses me off.”\n\n\t“I’d have to get Lachier’s permission... We still have the communication crystal he sent into battle, but I’d rather not bother with it tonight. It’s much more pressing a matter that we find as good a meal as your cohorts are enjoying in their camp, and that you make one simple decision for the rest of the evening... Which temple should we go to?”\n\n\tThe cougar blinked yet again, then laughed in spite of himself at how odd his recent life had been, one surprise after another. “Let’s find a meal... then try the back door,” he finally decided. “You’ve shared several rather personal secrets with me, so I suppose I should return the favor. I’ve always had certain... urges, that I’ve done my best to suppress since they’re ‘unbecoming of a king,’ even if I wasn’t expecting to be such for many more years. There was even a bit of a scandal, when I was fourteen, involving a baron’s niece and my ‘failure’ to properly restrain my instincts, when I bit her scruff hard enough to draw blood. The taste, on top of the lust of the moment... that was the best climax I’ve ever had, though she needed a healer afterwards. I’m finally going to be a king, so propriety and appearances will be even more important... but not for another week at the very least, and that’s assuming a fast carriage awaits on the other side of the border. After so many years of denying my deepest nature, and with the prospect of even more ahead of me... tonight, I’d love to indulge myself just one last time.”\n\n\tDrawing near, Serra wrapped her arms around one of his, nestling his bicep in her leather-armored cleavage as she nuzzled his shoulder, “It might not be official yet... but I think, for the rest of our trip, I’ll treat you like the king you’re to be. In many ways, I already respect you very nearly as much as I do Lachier... your Majesty.”\n\n\t‘Her’ king, however unofficially, slipped his arm around her waist, but just a tiny bit too far down and back, effectively cupping the edge of her ass rather than her strictly-proper hip. “Let’s... go eat, my dear.” With her head on his shoulder the whole walk to the town’s lone inn, from whose kitchen most of the embassy’s meal had emerged, she could feel and hear his faint, constant purr.\n\n\tWell-fed and content despite a lack of meat, which wouldn’t hurt the carnivores for the few days it took to pass through the Vale, Serra and Keesanrel stepped through the back door of the temple, the tigon unsurprised to find a shallow landing and a set of stairs leading deep underground. “This is pretty standard for an actual place of worship,” she told her date. “The temples of Kathalla you’ll find above ground in kingdoms that permit them... are the next best thing to fakes. They’re mainly used for tame enough sermons, except on official, nation-wide holidays when religion as a whole is granted greater indulgence than usual. The real fun tends to occur in underground ‘playclubs,’ that only the faithful know how to find, except in Atheria City where it’s a major attraction of the Drachathian embassy.” Opening the door at the bottom of the stairs, she peered around the chapel, lit only by two small oil lamps, and called, “Hello?”\n\n\tA surprised, “Oh!” echoed down a hallway, further muffled by its black curtain, and a few moments later the cloth was pushed aside by a unicorn mare just a bit older than either of her visitors, dressed as any other temple-keeper the tigon had seen except that her cowl was down, probably because her horn got in the way. “Welcome to the House of the Fanged One!” she greeted them in a bright voice. “My name is Berria... Did you come for a sermon, or to play? I get so few visitors that I don’t even bother to schedule a regular service, but whatever you desire, I can probably improvise!”\n\n\tThe cougar chuckled, “I can understand that... To answer your question, my friend and I would have joined the rest of our party upstairs, and we’ll probably engage in some similar activities down here, but I’d hoped to taste blood at some point as well, without it being hers. To return your courteous introduction as well, my date is Serra, a Junior Agent of Drachath, similar to the Sir Ferrl you’ve probably heard stories about, and once a few formalities are out of the way, I will be Keesanrel IV, King of Atheria.”\n\n\tThe priestess’ eyes were very wide by the time he finished, and she curtsied deeply, “My humble temple is beyond honored, your Majesty. It’s... tricky to get slaves at all out here, so I keep one male and one female, with a wait of several days if one is killed, but it’s been a week since one of the Kathallics in Hoofstomp came by so we’re as ready to please as we ever are.”\n\n\tNodding, the king glanced at his date then decided, “My prospective lover here has admitted to being thoroughly bisexual... but I can’t make anything close to the same claim. Fetch the female, please, and please let me know whether your visitors ‘play’ on the altar there, or if there’s another room for such. The male, you might want to send off to whatever contact handles new purchases, as I doubt his fellow slave will live to see another sunrise.”\n\n\t“Speaking of purchases,” Serra interrupted, reaching for her coinpouch and grinning up at her friend, “Duke Urenhold’s brother was rich. Then his office was ‘mysteriously’ burglarized, and now I’m rich.” She fished out three Drachathian gold nobles and held them out to the filly, “This should cover the replacement you’ll soon need.”\n\n\tNodding, the unicorn accepted the coins and dropped them into a pocket of her robe, “That it will, and a bit more besides. Even with only three mouths to feed, and the same volunteers as help with Roxanarra’s temple handling maintenance and repair, outright donations are fairly rare, and just that much more appreciated for it.” Glancing to the other feline, she smiled, “To answer your question, your Majesty, this basement has the same square footage as the temple above, so we’ve plenty of rooms for a variety of purposes... My quarters, those for slaves and larger than we’ve ever needed, an excellent kitchen, lodging for more priests if we ever need it, and three chambers for sacrifices. One with a stage and pews for shows that’s never seen use, and two more, both with dining tables, one with a bed enchanted to resist stains, and the other with several bondage racks.”\n\n\tNodding, the cougar replied promptly, “The one with the bed should do nicely.”\n\n\tThe filly having simply nodded back and gestured for them to follow as she pulled the curtain aside again, Serra clarified, “Just in case you missed the implication about a kitchen and dining tables... it’s something of a tradition to eat the slaves when we’re done, if only to reduce what needs to be disposed of, and to render it less recognizable as the remains of a sapient biped. As well-seasoned as it was, that vegetarian dinner we had doesn’t have to be our last meal of the evening.”\n\n\t“Sex... blood... and some properly filling meat,” he mused. “This night just keeps getting better and better.”\n\n\tFlashing the pair a surprisingly vicious grin for its blunt teeth, the priestess gestured toward a door, “Step inside and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly with your... meal,” and they all grinned a bit wider at that, “and send her roommate off on an errand as suggested.”\n\n\tTo the cougar’s very pleased surprise, his date didn’t immediately sit when she reached one of the room’s three medium-sized, round tables. Instead, she set about undoing the straps and buckles of her thick leather armor, letting the front, back, and skirt fall without a trace of modesty, and she hadn’t worn a thing beneath them. She flashed him a low-browed smile as she sat to start working off her boots, her raised and bent leg offering a tantalizing glimpse between her thighs, and purred, “It’s neither a rule nor an explicit tradition... but not many people bother with clothes in a Kathallic playclub. It’s hardly an issue at one as ill-attended as this one, but normally you tell patrons from prey simply by the collars or their lack. I’ve never been to a playclub that wasn’t adequately heated, or cooled at the height of summer, so why let anything get in the way of my fun?”\n\n\tKeesanrel shut his mouth with a soft snap, and took a moment to wipe a fleck of drool off of his chin. “I can’t fault your logic,” he agreed as he started working free the ties of his doublet and the blouse beneath, “and I definitely won’t complain about the view! Dame Elaria calling you ‘not ugly’ was... something of an understatement. You have the lines and fur of a pure lioness, but those dark brown stripes lend an... exotic touch I’ve never quite seen the like of. Unless the council raises an objection I cannot dismiss, or unless you find the life of a queen too stifling during your more formal appearances, at this point I’m finding your proposal very, very attractive.”\n\n\tSerra had to duplicate his jaw-snap and drool-wipe as he pulled off his blouse, “Damn... that loose cloth didn’t do justice to your pecs! I’d thought that uniform I first saw you in was a statement of humility... but, no, you could hold your own with trained soldiers, strength-wise. I hope your duties as king still let you take time for exercise, above and beyond what you’ll get in bed with me, because you couldn’t be farther from that tub of lard I eviscerated. Even if you were a stable’s dung-sweeper, I’d want to bed a body like that!”\n\n\tHer words were lent an extra bit of truth by the faint but growing scent of her arousal, and he kept the corner of an eye on her as he dropped his belt and slid down his pantaloons. He was only half erect but already firming up, and he hid a smirk at the way her eyes suddenly brightened. He’d never before had reason to see his father naked, much less aroused, but had heard certain rumors from maids who’d found themselves alone with their king, and it was satisfying to know that he hadn’t inherited that deficiency from the man.\n\n\tThe felines were eying the bed speculatively, but before either could voice a suggestion the door opened again, Berria entering with a chinchilla following at the prescribed pace and a half behind. The rodent’s large eyes were wide with more than a hint of fear as she spotted the obvious carnivores, but the very fact that they were as naked as she, save of course for her red collar, lent a gleam of anticipation as well, as to her mind they’d not have bothered to disrobe if simple slaughter were her fate. “This is Jae,” the unicorn introduced her charge. “She’s an average domestic with token training in pleasure, but she went unsold for several auctions in a row, simply for being offered toward the end when most serious buyers had already found someone to fit their needs.”\n\n\tBoth cats nodded, the male tilting his head in brief thought before suggesting, “Jae... please lay down in the middle of the bed. My prospective fiancée, or so I’m led to believe, would probably enjoy licking you while I take her from behind. The honored priestess,” and he sketched an abbreviated bow to the mare, “can either watch or enjoy your oral efforts, whichever fits her desires better. This is the first time for me, where any spilled blood will be something other than an accident, so I make no claims or decisions how your end may come... but, for honesty’s sake, I must say that I strongly doubt you’ll survive the night.”\n\n\tEven as the slave moved to obey, Serra smirked at her date and knelt down to her discarded armor, “I have an idea on that front... Tell me, your Majesty, what do you think of this?” and held out her folded steel dagger, balanced non-threateningly on her palm.\n\n\tThe king’s eyes widened briefly, then shut even as his cock twitched, “That... is beautiful! I’ve seen my share of well-made, ornate blades, and just as many simple, functional ones, but that, there, is the best of both worlds. So simple... yet so thin, so elegant...”\n\n\tHis date chuckled, “It’s also, I should note, the knife that killed your father. Well, cut him open anyway; he’d have died eventually from it, but my tearing out his heart with my bare hand sped things along nicely.”\n\n\tKeesanrel shook his head, opening his eyes as he laughed softly, “A better death than an insane wife-beater deserved, I say. What I can’t say, though, is that I’ve ever seen a sharper-looking blade. Whatever you do to yon chinchilla with it shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as she’s looking afraid of.”\n\n\tThe tigon glanced over to where the rodent was laying on the bed, in the middle as directed and with her legs spread, but her throat was working visibly as she tried to swallow her fear. “Dear,” she half-purred, “don’t worry so much. Yes, you will hurt and you will die, but there will be pleasure, too, and unless I’m so far gone as to forget my prayer of dedication, you’ll emerge into an afterlife with your memories intact. Your body will die tonight, but you won’t.” She barely managed to hide a wide-eyed look of surprise, the next moment... and even for that, she had help. There was a second presence behind her eyes, and she got the strong impression that no prayers were actually needed. Kathalla Herself was with her, mentally, and very nearly as eager to begin the festivities as she.\n\n\tThere had definitely been enough talk, so she wasted no more time, padding over to the bed and kneeling down to rest her elbows comfortably on the mattress with her knife set conveniently to one side. The rodent before her still didn’t look particularly happy... but the puffiness and faint hint of fresh moisture at her sex didn’t exactly shout disinterest, either. Leaning just a bit farther forward, Serra stretched her tongue out to brush just its thin, almost rasp-free tip up the length of the folds before her. The second such stroke elicited a quiet, pleased sigh higher on the bed, and the legs flanking her face shifted, spreading just a bit more to welcome her touch. Even as she moved with the suggestion, finally bringing her rasps into play against that sweet, salty flesh, she felt another pair of calves brush her own, and the next moment the pointy tip of Keesanrel’s cock was brushing up and down between her rumpcheeks, just barely touching her own lips at its lowest point. The suggestion was obvious, and quite welcome, but she hadn’t remembered to use the privy before this visit. ‘Crud,’ she thought. ‘Kathalla... could You...?’\n\n\t*Of course, My dear,* that presence in her mind replied, and the next moment the faint pressure in her bowels disappeared.\n\n\t“Kees...” she purred, still close enough to her own ‘meal’ that her breath made the slave squirm a bit. “Go ahead... I’m clean.”\n\n\tThat pointy tip dipped down one more time, parting her lips and swirling around the outer reaches of her depths, obviously gathering moisture as its owner mused, “Gods... you’re the first girl I’ve had who didn’t freak out at the mere suggestion, or whom I didn’t have to practically beg to try it...” Strong hands gripped and spread her rumpcheeks, and a point of coolness touched the puckered flesh between, quickly graduating into a steady pressure that parted and stretched her ring, and she lost her own lapping rhythm for a moment as she consciously relaxed and welcomed him in.\n\n\tLifting her head, Serra took a moment to splay the slave’s lips with one hand and slip two fingers of the other in, pressing gently until they were well-moistened by the walls around them, then starting a steady rhythm of thrusts, fingertips curling upwards at the end of each, just to hold the rodent’s attention as she mused to the man behind her, “I may be... ooh, young, but my mother actively, mmm, taught me about all sorts of things, once she was sure I’d, oh yeah, I’d inherited her libido... Just keep doing that, your Majesty, and, mmm, please, just a bit more of a tug on the outstroke, so your spines hit my ring...”\n\n\tHis reply was lost in the sudden squeal that erupted when she dove back in to wrap her lips around the chinchilla’s hood, her tongue lapping hard and directly at the rigid nubbin therein. She continued to suckle, licking just around the edges after that one intense stroke, as she worked a third finger in beside the other two, and the slave beat her to climax by five seconds. That spined shaft filling her rear teasing the inner edges of her stretched anus delightfully with dozens of tiny, sharp, flexible points was enough, and droplets of rodentine fluids flew as her head whipped up and she yowled.\n\n\tKeesanrel had been near his own peak when the slave’s squeal added a sympathetic pleasure to his own, and the sudden clenching of the ring and passage around his manhood were enough if he let them... and he did, his own, low growl of ecstasy filling the room’s heated air even as his seed filled that warm, slick hindside. His eyes fluttered open again at the sensation of Serra pulling gently off of his shaft, a pleased hiss marking the passage of his spines, and his gaze had to follow hers as she looked past him with both brows high. There on one of the chairs was the half-forgotten priestess, the bottom of her robe bunched up around snow-white thighs as she masturbated, her eyes tightly shut as she finally joined her guests in climax with a loud nicker.\n\n\tThe tigon chuckled throatily, “You might want to open your eyes, Berria... It’s time for the next step,” even as she picked up her knife. Jae’s eyes were closed too, her pert breasts rising and falling as her breathing gradually returned to normal, clearly savoring the afterglow of her pleasure. Once her prospective mate and the unicorn were both watching, Serra waited just another second for the slave’s belly to dip with another inhalation, and her hand moved like a blur, ending with the blade hovering between dusky pink nipples, a single drop of blood at its tip. The rodent’s huge eyes fluttered open as she felt something, the swirled steel too sharp for instant pain... but the moment her diaphragm relaxed to exhale, she screamed, her belly suddenly afire as the clean cut split open, entrails glistening before disappearing behind a layer of blood.\n\n\tBerria’s eyes closed back to slits, a shiver running from hooves to horn as she savored the sight no one else in her entire species, to the best of her knowledge, enjoyed, and her voice was husky as she murmured, “Excellent cut, ma’am, for placement and timing alike.”\n\n\tSerra nodded with a toothy grin, “I’m rather proud of it, thanks...” then glanced up, “Kees? As useful as that slash will be to clean her for our late-night snack, I don’t intend to make her suffer through complete disembowelment...” Straightening, she fluidly slid onto the bed to one side and cupped Jae’s chin, lifting it to bare her throat as her other hand worked the collar off, “If you care to... finish her, and satisfy your taste for blood at the same time.”\n\n\tThe chinchilla’s big eyes widened further as she cried, but the part of her mind still working realized that it would mean a quick end to her agony, and she forced her way past the pain to half-whimper, “P-please... Master...”\n\n\tChuckling softly to himself, the cougar nodded as he climbed onto the other side of the bed from his lover, “Alright, to both of you. If anyone wants to pray about this sacrifice, now would be a good time,” and leaned down, jaws opening wide. Those sharp feline teeth half-enfolded the rodent’s whole neck, and he bit down slowly, but very hard, tearing and crushing well past the first spurt from ripped jugulars, then simply chewed the big bite of raw meat and fur as jets of hot crimson splattered against his muzzle. Swallowing, he indulged in just a slurping lick or two at the liquid bounty before him, then sat up with a very red, very satisfied smile as he watched the shuddering form slowly grow still.\n\n\tA thought that was not quite her own prompted Serra, and as she started lengthening the cut on the corpse’s belly to properly clean her, she mused conversationally, “I did not, as it turned out, need to pray for dedication tonight... because Kathalla has been with me since Jae climbed onto the bed, watching through my eyes. I get the very strong impression that She’s interested in having two royal lines among Her faithful. The already-generous alliance shared by Drachath and Atheria could work even better, and far longer, if you and Lachier have that in common. All She asks is that you tell Her you’re Hers, and in the future you occasionally have a little more fun like we just did.” She lifted a bloody finger as his eyes widened, “I assure you, She doesn’t make this kind of request frivolously, or blindly to the possible complications. You’re probably thinking of all the people who’d object, possibly even to the point of trying to have you killed, or that your priestly cousin might refuse to relinquish the crown when he sees your soul... She’s already considered all of that, and it will work out.”\n\n\tThe cougar shook his head, in wonder rather than denial, “That much, I know... No God or Goddess makes promises They can’t keep. With that sort of guarantee, and with how much I enjoyed my ‘self-indulgence,’ what else can I really say? Kathalla, I am Yours, though I can make no such promises about my dynasty as a whole. Any children I have with Your beautiful follower here will be free to make their own decisions, though I still heartily thank You for the offer that counters my earlier disappointment that tonight would be the last time I got to do something like this.”\n\n\tThe sense of a presence in Serra’s mind faded, even as the Goddess’ voice resonated against three souls, *Those are, to put it most simply, some of the reasons I chose to ask you. I’d prefer to be served by a good king, with a fine mind of his own, as well as one who’d genuinely enjoy that service... and I’d have warned off My devotee were you to be a bad husband or a bad father. Carry on in My service and with My blessing.*\n\n\tHis now-official fiancée grinned as she started pulling intestines into a pile, “Looks like you’ve got yourself a queen, my muscular lover... Now, even if it’s just a means to the end of our upcoming snack, playing with this girl’s guts is making me horny all over again, so why don’t you crawl behind me and get a little practice in making those babies you’ll raise so well? It’s still two months ‘til my cycle and our need to decide whether or not it’s time for an heir, but I can’t help noticing that the taste of blood got you hard again, and it’d be a shame to waste it.”\n\n\tSparing a moment to shoot an amused look at the giggling priestess, Keesanrel nodded as he crawled around the pool of blood surrounding Jae’s head, “Hike that tail up, dear, because here I come.”\n\nEpilogue\n\n\tLachier shook his head as he watched the two felines, one crowned and cloaked, the other in the sparkling tiara of a queen, and murmured to the ladies on either side of him, “What am I going to tell her parents? Sure, in one sense this couldn’t be anything but good news... but they thought she’d just be gone for a few months, then return, more experienced and a bit wealthier perhaps, but still...” His entire corner of the throne room, full of pews as it doubled as a chapel for the special occasion, was an almost solid mass of soldiers, though they represented less than a quarter of the escort that had seen him safely from Northlook to Atheria.\n\n\tThe ‘coon next to him shook her head with a giggle, “Just tell them the same thing I told my mother when she wore out my patience and I blurted out the truth... She’s found a man who’s a great fuck and happens to be rich, too. That shut up Miss Prissy Pants quick enough, but from what I’ve heard of Verona she’d get a good laugh out of it instead.”\n\n\t“Jessela is right about the countess,” Elaria quietly mused from the other side, then grinned, “and about you, too, your Majesty. I know we only screwed twice, but I enjoyed both times. In any case, I’ll have a bit of explaining to do to my father when I head back to pick up my son. Pria wants to stick around, to become a full-fledged Agent of Atheria as well as Serra’s live-in girlfriend. They were planning... there! Did you hear what Tyron just asked her? It was almost exactly the usual, local phrasing, but he left out just two words that would have been an oath of monogamy. Our Goddess chose very wisely, encouraging those two to get together.”\n\n\tThe king nodded, smiling, “Wise in so many ways... The historical ‘bad joke’ of our international relations... can now be history, and stay that way. It should be centuries before we have to worry about our northeast border’s security, which is a good thing since I’ve been hearing some disturbing noises out of Letarr recently.” He glanced over at the vixen, “Care for another ambassadorial post? After the rather amazing job you did at this one, you have to be the first one I ask, but it’s still your choice.”\n\n\t“Only if the situation’s presently stable enough that Rellan would be safe coming along,” she replied immediately. “I am not going anywhere else without my son!”\n\n\tHe nodded again, his expression serious, “I understand... and I apologize for the time you’ve had to spend apart from him. The ‘crisis,’ this time, is mostly economic, as they’re protesting the perfectly legitimate, and honestly very low, customs duties on Vale goods that pass through Drachath on their way south. The only violence any of the current consular corps expects is along the lines of commerce raiding, crown-sponsored but officially disavowed ‘bandits’ and the like.”\n\n\tThis fetched an amused smile, “Vivenge may have the same ‘complaint’ when the dust finally settles... Their generals are still bickering over who gets to be the new emperor, and there’ve been several pitched battles around Maurere, ones that did even more damage than my little visit. You see, we’re about to lose our exclusive access, as Malia’s allowing another opening in Her wall, roughly the same place I crossed it. That little town with the inn that boasted such an amazing sunset will soon blossom at least as much as Chraf did, and Silkmane is already working on new construction to handle the increased commerce and tourism.”\n\n\tLachier frowned briefly, but started to nod as he actually thought it through, “That... actually doesn’t sound bad. We’re losing only one of the four borders we were ‘exclusive’ for, and it might prove decisive in Letarr. If you wait until they finally, explicitly complain about us ‘hogging’ trade with the Vale, you can spring this new arrangement on them. Atheria may be our ally, but they’re still a different kingdom. We won’t see a farthing from goods going directly to them anymore, or to Vivenge when things finally calm down. If Keesanrel’s even remotely as good a king as he’d have to be for Kathalla to choose him, the duties the empire pays will be fairly high, that being an accepted form of punishment so soon after hostilities, and the difference between what Vivenge and Letarr are paying is just one more arrow in your diplomatic quiver.”\n\n\tJessela nudged his side with her elbow, “They’re exchanging rings... and there’s the kiss! Oh, my, and what a kiss it is! Come on, we’ll need to go back to the suite to change for the reception. I believe you’ll enjoy it far more than most formal parties, my love...”\n\n\tThe raccoon’s eyes blinked in confusion under his crown, and he glanced over at a knowing chuckle from his ambassador. “She’s right, your Majesty,” Elaria assured him. “The ‘reception’ will be more like an orgy, as it’s being held in all three rooms of the playclub under the embassy. Even in the merely ‘naughty’ room, refreshments will be served that the more squeamish of the courtiers will be better off not asking about. This morning was the last sunrise a full dozen slaves ever saw.”\n\n\tThe king blinked once more, then shook his head with a grin, “I wouldn’t miss that for the world! I’ve been so bloody busy that I haven’t been to a playclub, or even enjoyed a disposable plaything in private, since before my coronation. Kathalla hasn’t complained... but if I miss this She would, and rightly so.”\n\nThe End\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Fantasie Eviscerotique

Episode 4

by

Adrian VanWormer (Kathalla at FA and IB)

Prologue

\tThe countess nodded to the young badger who was still putting the finishing touches on her oversized sleeproll, “That looks comfortable enough, Mavlan.  You needn’t aim for perfection in a bed I’ll only be using for one night, no matter what you said about redressing the balance between a chore that helps a whole temple and the many smaller tasks of seeing to my comfort.  I’ve been making this trip for eight years in a row, and you’re the closest to a ‘servant’ I’ve ever brought along.  I’m not so decrepit yet that I can’t set up my own camp!”

\tThe slimly-stocky lad shrugged, smiling faintly despite the mild reprimand, “I promised my grand-uncle I’d work as hard here as I do at our Lady’s shrine... and I intend to keep that promise, though having you as a traveling companion makes that difficult.  You can afford too many travel conveniences, and who you are very much eases our way when we’re in a town.  I have to actively look for things to do to keep my word, milady, and my word is even more important to me than lawful obedience to the wishes of an earldom’s heiress.”

\tElaria sighed, smiling some herself, “Duty and adherence to one’s word are all well and good... but, please, try to consider reality a bit more when giving that word!  We’re traveling.  That, by definition, means there won’t ever be quite as much time for chores, lessons, or practice than when settled comfortably in the middle of a major city.  Speaking of practice, though, try to sleep lightly toward morning...  I want you up as soon as the sky starts getting light, to set out our light-crystals, build up the fire to cook breakfast, then wake me to spar before it’s quite dawn.  You’re finally starting to show the potential Brettan guessed at, and we can keep working on that while still getting an early start.”  She glanced to one side, then, and her smile spread into a grin, “Still... keep ‘holding to your word’ anyway, as it seems to be setting a very good example for my son.”

\tBlinking, Mavlan turned the way she’d glanced, then barked a laugh as he watched the foxcub spread a sleeping pad over a lumpy-looking collection of small pine boughs... sideways.  “It’s nice to see you want to help, Rellan...  Here, let me show you how to do it right; you’ve got the basics down, but there’s more to making a comfortable bed than just piling up types of padding.  Watch now, you do it like this...”

\tRonnel stepped over from where he’d been seeing to the horses’ comfort and slipped an arm around his wife’s waist, then nuzzled her ear before murmuring, “It’s never too early to instill the notion of doing things well in a child... well, almost.  I suppose this really is the first year that he’s been big enough to help out.”

\t“The difference between ages four and five can be significant, yes,” the vixen agreed, then gave another toothy grin.  “Want to check our friend’s work for lumps while he’s getting them out of his own bed?”

\tThis earned a chuckle with just a hint of lust echoing in its depths, before all four faces looked up curiously at a call from the road, “Hello, the camp!”

\tA few glances were shared among the travelers, then Elaria, as putative leader of the group even if they were traveling anything but formally, called back, “If you come in peace, stranger, enter freely and share our fire.  If not, you’d best find another group of travelers or a camp of your own, as a blade dancer is a rather poor choice to practice banditry upon.”  The cadence of her words took on a more rhythmic quality toward the end, as she mentally prepared herself for her special form of combat, should it prove needed.

\tLeaves crunched and twigs snapped as a single horse drew nearer at a slow walk, and both adults in the party relaxed as the firelight glinted on the silver trim of a dark purple uniform.  That uniform’s owner had a chuckle in his voice as he replied, “The courier service would take things... badly if I started molesting random citizens on the road.  Hmm... blade dancer?”  He peered through the sparse intervening branches as he neared, then brightened, “Countess Gatuque!  I consider it fortuitous that it’s your camp I found.  I carry dire news to Earl Wheathaven and your own father, and any other noble I meet is also entitled to hear.”

\tThe vixen’s eyes narrowed as she finally got a good look at the mounted panther, spotting the black satin band around his right bicep, and she blinked away tears at the sudden stab of loss within...  Turning back to her family and companion, she murmured, “I only met him a few times... but Burtak was a good king.  Only for him, though, would his officials wear mourning black...”  She glanced back to the courier, “What happened?”

\tThe liveried young man nodded at her surmise, “Yes, the king is dead...  He was planning to retire in just a couple more years when he turned seventy, but he still liked his little entertainments.  His heart gave out while he was sandwiched between a couple of amorous slavegirls; they called the guards instantly, and there was a healer only a few rooms away, but... there was nothing to do.  It was very quick, and while painful he probably didn’t suffer much, but Burtak IV is with Kathalla now.  Every ruling lord and any of their family who wish to attend are commanded to Fariach, first for the funeral and then to witness the coronation of King Lachier II and to swear fealty to him.”

\tRonnel blinked, then shook himself...  Even after nearly nine years as her husband, the former serf was still occasionally surprised by the details of his wife’s rank.  As a farmer, and only marginally separated from outright slavery, he’d never much cared who sat on any kingdom’s throne.  Which ordinary citizen owned his particular plot of land and those bound to it had much more of an impact on his early life, and occasionally some act or decree of the local baron might have meant something to him... but that was before he’d won the heart of a countess.  “Your brother’s birthday... eclipsed, will be,” he finally mused, his years of practice in Drachath’s dialect momentarily forgotten in the wake of this news.

\tElaria nodded grimly, “Indeed... but I doubt he’ll complain of boredom as a result.  This is actually quite convenient timing, all told, as we’ll be able to manage the transition from my being proxy countess to his being proxy earl directly with Lachier, once things have calmed down from the funeral and coronation.”

\tRonnel smiled as he mused, “You’ll still be my strong princess, in any case, and you’ll have one less job to do.  The prospect of more free time to spend in your company... is something I can only look forward to.”

\tThe vixen’s teeth flashed in the light of the campfire as she grinned, “Well, maybe not only my company...  I know you don’t give much thought to your Roxanite novitiate, but it exists, and you could very well become Her acolyte if we get that much more time to practice.”

\tHer husband blinked, then shrugged, “Becoming a junior priest of Malia, back when Rellan was still in diapers, was a satisfying cap to my ecclesiastic career.  Do I really need any more rank?”

\tThe princess shrugged back with a faint smile, “It couldn’t hurt...  With Gerial taking over my job in the city, we’ll need to decide just what to do with the next part of our lives, and where.  Whatever choice we make, rank is just one more resource, and the principle of maximizing that sort of thing when faced with an uncertain future is only the course of wisdom.”  She turned back to the courier with a gesture toward Mavlan, “You’re welcome to join us tonight.  We’ll be rising before dawn for some of the training I promised this young fellow’s family, and I’ll be picking up our rather leisurely pace afterward, but I’ll understand if you gallop on ahead; the funeral is, almost certainly, scheduled with the optimum speed of yourself and your brothers in service kept in mind, and we’re at very nearly the farthest reaches of that service.  Time is... understandably tight, I know.”

\t“Momma?  Do we need another bed fer th’kitty guy?” her son asked in his piping voice.

\tEla smiled fondly as she shook her head, “No... the couriers have good equipment that’s very fast to set out.  You just finish helping Mavlan get the lumps out of his, then you can cuddle up with us.”  She started untying the laces of her sturdy traveling clothes as she padded toward her bedroll, musing in the panther’s direction, “It’s my hope that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable... but, as you probably know since you recognized one of my titles, Ronnel and I both hold Roxanite rank... and we’re foxes.  Even with our son in the same bed, we’re going to share at least a little love before sleep, tonight.”

\tThe courier blinked once, then grinned a bit foolishly as she peeled her blouse off, his eyes fixed on the sizable breasts that were bobbing as they half-fell from the cloth’s grip, “You won’t hear any complaints from me, milady... and, unless you or your husband object, I think I can get quite a few free drinks from my tavern buddies on the way back from this trip, for describing the rather lovely, and exquisitely vixenish, countess I had the privilege of seeing naked along the way.”

\tThe vixen in question blinked once, then laughed and reached for her breeches’ ties, “Oh, I don’t mind that in the slightest...  Hell, wait a moment in the morning and I’ll even give you evidence to support your story.  I’ve got a few extra handkerchiefs and scarves I can spare, and I’ll happily give you one for a souvenir, well-impregnated by my most intimate, personal scents.  You royal messenger types work hard, and you deserve a bit of fun and the occasional entertaining story for your efforts.”

\tRonnel sat on the edge of the bedroll to work his own boots off, shaking his head with a grin, “I have no problem with that...  My wife’s body and scent are her own, to share with whom she wishes; only her heart is mine to claim.”

\tFinally bothering to dismount, the courier picked a tree with plenty of low-hanging branches and led his horse toward it, stealing a glance back just in time to watch the princess, tail high and facing away from him, bend down to pull down her pants, the firelight glinting temptingly on fur-shadowed hints of pink flesh, obviously already moist with anticipation.  “Mmm... vixen,” he mumbled to himself after a sniff at the air, then reached for his gear to settle in for this rather unusual night.

Chapter 1

\t“Why are we still here, Momma?  This place was neat at first, but I been bored for days!”

\tElaria smiled mentally at the irony as her son reminded her, yet again, of the breadth of the gap between his language skills and the way she’d talked at the same age... but kept her outer expression attentive as she answered him, “I know you’re bored...  Other than when the minstrels are playing, I am too, enough to envy Mavlan for getting to continue onwards to train with Julara instead of me.  I almost wish I’d brought my cello along; joining them would be at least a bit of fun we could have... but we need to wait here.  All the earls and barons and counts are coming, and some of them have farther to go than others.  When they’re all here, though, we’ll go to the palace basement and step through a magical gate, and we’ll suddenly be halfway across the kingdom!  One more, and we’ll be at the other end entirely, and you’ll get to see the king’s palace, which is even ‘neater’ than the duke’s!”

\tRellan nodded solemnly, “Grampa’s an earl... is he coming?  If he is, why couldn’t we wait with him?  I wanted to see Unca Gerial’s birthday party...”

\t“Everyone should be here within another day or two,” the countess assured him, one hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder, “including Ferrl and Gerial.  Your uncle’s birthday is today, actually...  Life isn’t always fair, and this is one of those times; even once he’s here, we’ll be too busy to celebrate right away, but I’m sure we can have a party a little late, once things calm down.”  She looked up at the sound of the guest suite’s door opening, and the fond smile she’d had for her son returned as her husband entered, just as loving but with a hint of lust flickering deep in her eyes.

\tThe darker fox arched one brow as he took in his family’s pose, “Rellan’s tail had been a bit low since this morning...  I take it he’s admitted to the boredom he’d been trying to hide?”  His son flushed, eliciting a gentle chuckle from both parents as Ela nodded.  Crossing the room to join them, Ronnel knelt down and reached into a large belt pouch, “You’ve been very good about not complaining, son... but I know how hard waiting can be, when there’s almost nothing to do, so I decided to do something about it,” and he extracted a slim black case about eight inches long.  “You’ve always seemed to like music, and I’ve seen the way you watch us when your mother and I are the ones playing... so I got you this,” and he opened it to reveal, resting in the formed depressions of red velvet within, the two halves of a piccolo.

\tHis wife’s eyes widened for just a moment, “So that’s why you asked for the gold stash...  That looks like a fine instrument, and it’s certainly the right size for his hands!”

\tRellan reached out with one careful hand, running his fingertips over the finely-wrought buttons and valves, “Ooh... thank you, Daddy!  You’re right, I’ve wanted to make music too, but Momma’s cello’s just so big!”

\tClosing the case again, the fox handed it to his son then stood, musing affectionately, “I’m glad you like it...  It won’t be easy to learn, and you’ll need to practice a lot, but the flute player in the duke’s orchestra has already agreed to teach you the basics.  He’s waiting for us now; supper’s in just a couple more hours, but that’s long enough, since your lips will get tired quickly until you’ve had some of that practice I was talking about.”

\t“You two have fun,” Elaria told them, “and I’ll just work on a little writing ‘til dinner.  And, Ronnel dear?”  She waited for him to look up, then smiled broadly, “I’d like to congratulate you...  That piccolo’s no tin whistle, and I know it can’t have been cheap... but it was worth it.  You’ve occasionally had a few qualms about spending money, quite understandable with your humble beginnings, but I’m glad you were able to overcome them for our son’s sake.”

\tHer husband’s ears dipped slightly, but he was smiling as he nodded back, “Fancy instruments are, by any measure, a luxury... but they repay us in joy, which none can put a price on.  I’ll see you at the meal, love.”

* * *

\tThe notes of the piccolo were clear and sweet... for a certain percentage of ‘clear,’ and with a parent’s view of ‘sweet,’ despite the slow, careful fingering as Rellan worked his way up a basic eight-note scale, managing to reach the high note with only two serious fumblings with the valves.  His parents shared a glance, wordlessly agreeing that he really wasn’t all that bad for this only being his second practice session, but they were, for their own ears’ sakes, looking forward to him getting significantly better.  The young fox lowered his instrument and grimaced, his lips working as he tried to confirm that they were still attached, and his normal voice was just a bit mushy-sounding as he commented, “Numb.”

\tRonnel nodded, hopefully not too quickly, “Then that’s enough for this morning...  I’m sure none of us wants a repeat of the slight sloppiness at last night’s dinner, so let’s just give your mouth a chance to recover before lunch, shall we?  How about some more usual lessons, instead...”

\tHis wife and son both nodded back, Ela commenting, “That’s a good plan.  In fact, rather than reading along with me out loud, why don’t I just read to you while your eyes follow along?  That way we—”  She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and reflexively touched the dagger tucked into the back of her dress’ sash before rising to answer it.  She had no genuine fear of attack in the middle of a duke’s palace, but there were too many noble guests at the moment to provide official guards for all of them, and she had, two or three times, been all but ambushed by those seeking to learn just how good a blade dancer could be.  None had survived to appreciate the lesson.

\tHer foot well braced and her knee poised to block a suddenly-bashed-in door, she opened it just enough to peek out of, then flung it wide with a happy squeal, “Daddy!”  The figure on the other side of the doorway was almost too wide to pass through it without turning but, even in early middle age, almost none of his bulk was fat.

\t“Grandpa Ferrl!” Rellan chimed in an instant later, scrambling off of the bed.  His mother had already leaped up to hug the big wolf’s chest, so the cub contented himself with a hug-assault on a convenient pair of knees once he’d nosed his way past the bottom hem of her skirt.

\tFor his part, Ronnel just shared a smile and a nod through the air over his wife’s shoulder, beckoning for the rest of his extended family to enter once the more enthusiastic greetings had died down.  Once the earl, his wife, and his three natural children were seated around the room, the fox mused, “Your group is among the last expected to arrive...  Have you heard of any others we’re still waiting on, or anything about when they plan to have us move?”

\tFerrl nodded solemnly, though his expression’s seriousness suffered a wince at the shrill tweet his youngest son managed to produce while examining his grandchild’s new instrument.  Lirdon may have been the fox’s technical uncle, but he was still only three years older and no more expert than the cub at music.  “We’re not quite the last,” he finally answered, “but there’s only one more count’s party to wait on, and they’re expected within the next hour or two, which means we at least have time for lunch.  The mages are still balancing power pools against demand, so they can’t say whether we’ll be routed through Gatuque or Northlook, nor the exact moment of our departure as they’ll probably send us through on the very heels of another group so the Fariach gate only has to be opened once.  Still, I’ve been told to be prepared to leave in the early to mid afternoon.”

\tElaria smiled, tilting her head toward the youngsters who were still chattering away at what passed for news among the very young, “That’s good, as your grandcub’s been nearing the limits of our ability to keep him distracted and reasonably happy.  Or, he was until Ronnel bought that piccolo, but it’s too early to say just how long that could have held him...”  She turned to face her brother, “He really wanted to attend your party, Ger.  Anyway... happy birthday, even if we’ve known for years just what I’d be giving you for a ‘present.’”

\tThe teenaged wolf shrugged, “Your job... or one of them, and probably the most boring of the lot in your book.  Still... I’m looking forward to it.  I actually enjoyed my visit last winter, sitting in on the petitions, and discussing our options even though the final decision was yours.  It made me feel... involved, like I was doing something to help the people our family effectively rules.”

\tPria spoke up beside him, “That trip was fun for me, too... though in a completely different way, and I’m pretty sure I still can’t tell you just what I was up to with that mouse.”

\tThe earl chuckled, “No, I suppose you can’t... but Ela and I have both figured it out, and we approve.  Diral may be getting a bit long in the tooth to be running around at night like you were, but he’s still one of the best in the business.  If you do well enough at the sort of things he’s getting too old for, a few years from now Lachier just might offer you his job, and I don’t think any of us would consider that a bad thing.”

\t“Speak for yourself,” Danara grumbled, “as you and our daughters seem to consider it some sort of state secret just what his job is.”

\tHer husband nodded, acknowledging her point, but also, from his expression, considering something...  He cast one glance at the cubs, the only ones in the room who he considered likely to repeat random comments to the wrong ears, but they were both distracted with comparing the small knives they owned.  Looking back to his family, Ferrl kept his voice fairly low as he mused, “In a way, his job is a secret of sorts... as mine was, when I had the same one.”  Comprehension immediately dawned in his bitch’s eyes, and it only took Ronnel and Gerial another moment each to make the connection, and he slapped his thighs to punctuate a change of subject, “Anyway... it’s just about time to eat, and then we’re off to Fariach!  Lirdon, Rellan!  Put those away and get washed up, and we’ll head down to the dining room.  The usual courtiers probably won’t be there, just the nearby barons and their families, but we’re second only to the Duke and Earl of Rajai in rank, so we’d better be on the guest list!”

* * *

\tThe ‘gate’ took the form of a broad arch set against a wall, both common stone, and a pair of tapered, polished obelisks of black basalt, sunk into the floor to either side.  Flanking those were several medium-large alcoves holding guards, with narrow entrances, walls that could be used for cover, and long racks of loaded crossbows that could be grabbed at need.  This, the wizardly earl explained to his family as they joined the milling crowd of nobles that was gathering, was because the magical structures involved were attuned to the other gates in the kingdom most naturally, but could, with enough effort, be linked to a hostile gate as well.  It would be expensive in terms of magical power, but less expensive by far than creating a new gate from scratch to emerge at an arbitrary point.  Each gate, however, had its own magical signature that could not be duplicated, and the on-duty wizard would know whether or not a forming connection was one they were familiar with, well before it actually opened, giving them time to warn the soldiers to take action.

\tThose soldiers, today, were much more concerned with keeping order than defending from a sudden attack, though.  They picked up dropped toys to hand back to children, kept curious teens out of their weapon stockpiles, and generally tried to keep the peace as impatient nobles asked yet again when they’d be moving, despite the constraints having been explained to them already.  Several times.

\tFinally, the robed court wizard raised his hand, and the various murmurs of conversation faded.  “They’re just about ready in Northlook,” he called.  “Please do not rush, but don’t dawdle either.  You’ll come out in a chamber much like this one, but you’ll see another open gate, and we ask that you proceed immediately through that one as well.  We hope to get all of you through both of them within two minutes of this one opening, but the other one will have been open for longer already, getting Northlook’s lesser nobles through to Fariach, and we have only so much stored power to work with.  We can promise you two minutes, but probably not three, and anyone who dallies overlong will probably be stuck in the eastern duchy until they can buy a horse.  For that reason, families who wish to remain together are instructed to hold hands, or to carry anyone under the age of ten.  The gate-crossing will be... mildly disorienting to most, and moreso to anyone prone to motion sickness, but the effect will fade quickly once you’re through.”

\tOf those who had previous experience with gates, a few were nodding but most looked impatient to be on their way.  The other two thirds of the assembled nobles, however, were divided between paying close attention and looking worried, even frightened.  Mothers hugged their children tighter, and lovers’ hands sought each other out to squeeze comfortingly.  Ferrl’s party was among the first in line near the arch, more from the way they’d already kept their cubs under control and their general disinclination to bother the busy guards than from their rank.  “Inner eyes closed, dear,” he commented as he spotted his younger daughter peering intently at the gate.  She grimaced at him, and he shook his head, “I’m serious.  Even the wizard opening the thing will be working ‘blind;’ there’ll be far too much magic flying around to safely look at it, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

\t“Alright,” Pria agreed, “but you owe me a better explanation of how these things work, especially if what you say is true and the wizard in charge can’t even watch his own weave forming.”  Her eyes widened at a flare few of the others could see, and she quickly damped down her arcane perceptions, as the pulse of power flowing from the two obelisks into the archway was clearly everything her father had described, and already building sharply in strength.

\tMost of the rest of the crowd, naturally enough, had no idea anything was happening until their view of the stone on the far side of the arch vanished, replaced by a matte blackness, which held steady for a few seconds before brightening into the view of a similar room with different guards.  “Alright everyone,” the senior lieutenant in charge of the assembled guards called, “start moving!  If anyone stumbles, one of the helpful soldiers in Northlook will pick them up; just concentrate on moving your own two feet!”

\tAny further instructions or reminders were lost to Ferrl and his family as he led them unflinchingly through the portal, sight and sound replaced with silent darkness for the instant of transition where several hundred miles had been magically abolished, only to return before worry could set in with the Northlook guards urging them to move along to the second gate.  The room beyond that one was even bigger, the backsides of the previous batch of nobles visible as they were led away and the nearer walls lined with at least two dozen servants, each holding up a sign with the name of a holding.

\tAfter a brief glance to make sure his family had followed along without mishap, the earl led them toward the figure under the ‘Gatuque’ placard, only to pause and blink at the feline in her mid teens that was holding it, as her leather armor was a far cry from the formal livery everyone else nearby was wearing, even with the sheaths and scabbards tucked into every available strap hanging loose and empty.  “You,” he rumbled, “are no servant.”

\tThe girl negligently dropped her sign to one side, boot-heels clicking as she snapped to attention and saluted, “Corporal Serra of the Stonecliff City Guard, at your service, sir!  You’re something of a legend in my unit, from long before my time when you blew our captain to bits, and I really wanted to meet you!”

\tFerrl blinked, then shook his head to clear it, “This can’t be a coincidence...” and leaned a little closer, nostrils flaring as he sorted her scent out from the milling crowd...  To his family’s surprise, he whooped loudly and grabbed her up in a tight hug, swinging her bodily around.

\tDanara was first to recover, snapping her fingers as she realized, “You’re that Serra!  Verona’s youngest daughter!  It’s been years since we’ve gotten a letter about you...”

\tThe young tigon was grinning as she hugged the much larger wolf back, and she nodded over his shoulder, “Momma told me I wouldn’t be able to fool you guys... but it was fun trying!  C’mon, you big lug, put me down and I’ll show you all to your guest suite.  You’re getting the rooms meant for the Duke of Fariach, built back when that was still a separate title from the king’s, as the prince still considers you among his best and most reliable friends.”

\tStill grinning, the earl nodded as he set her gently down, giving an extra pat to smooth down her skirt with the hand that wasn’t holding a small, sharp dagger...  “I’m going to have to talk with whoever succeeded Bakar, as you’d never have snuck this past that ermine when he was in charge.”

\tHer expression serious, Serra nodded, “I’d been planning to reveal that to the new captain myself...  Our prince will need the best protection he can get once he’s crowned, as there’s always someone looking to find a new monarch off balance and vulnerable, and even this chaotic mess shouldn’t have been enough for me to sneak a weapon in like I did.”  Turning her renewed grin on the rest of the wolves and foxes, she jerked her head toward the far end of the gate hall, almost empty now as the other families had simply followed their servants without any sort of reunion to distract them, “C’mon, I still really do need to get you all settled, then we’ll just see if I can weasel my way out of gaol time for what I just pulled.”

\tThe retired Agent shook his head with a chuckle as he patted her shoulder, “It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to spot, even with a little magic...  That strap and sheath I felt were fuzzy, so I can only assume they matched your own fur, and everything was high enough that the hilt’s sticky and probably smells interesting.  I’ll just have to remind the captain of your father’s first wife, and that one can’t assume a woman’s innocence, or even show her due respect, when the safety of the kingdom’s on the line.”

* * *

\tThe red and pink glow in the eastern sky seemed to catch fire as the sun peeked over the horizon.  It was a perfect spring morning, a warm, salty breeze blowing in from the sea and only enough clouds visible to contribute to the beautifully-colored sunrise.  Audience Square was packed with chairs, pews, and benches, the motley collection gathered from every conceivable source to accommodate the hundreds of nobles, and at least a thousand common citizens stood shoulder to shoulder behind them.  The shadow of the palace’s high walls edged lower as the sun crept higher, a single beam of light edged in rainbows after passing through two crystal-paned windows finally falling upon the black-robed form of the high priestess, her arms raised as she chanted a benediction, and the still form of King Burtak IV on the slab before her, dressed in his finest robes but with his crown resting on a cushion to one side.

\tAs the priestess’ blessing concluded, two more forms stepped out of the shadows behind her, the young slavegirls who’d shared their monarch’s final moments padding solemnly forward, each with a small wooden bowl cupped in her hands.  Turning to face them, the elderly vulpine asked, “Do you two truly wish to join your old Master in the Fanged One’s heaven?”

\tBoth of the nude teens nodded, the vixen of the pair answering first, “Yes, Mistress.  I miss him already, and beg leave to be with him forever.”

\tThe doe opposite her nodded as well, “Please, Mistress.  He was the sweetest, kindest man I ever knew, and no matter how busy he got with matters of state, he always found time to play with us.  I only wish I could have saved him in the end...”

\tThe priestess nodded, “I can see the truth of your words, mirrored in your souls... and I promise you that Kathalla is waiting in Her realm to welcome you.  You may drink.”

\tCareful not to spill any, the two slaves were nonetheless eager as they lifted the bowls to their muzzles, though the deer grimaced at the bitter taste.  They’d barely lowered the dishes when their powerful contents took effect, the wood clattering as it fell first from the vulpine’s fingers, and both bodies crumpled to the platform’s stones in near unison.  Both girls convulsed where they lay, but the spasms passed quickly, and they were dead and still within twenty seconds of the first sips of poison.

\tTurning back to the silently-watching crowd, the high priestess spoke again, “Thus we seek to give our departed friend some of the love and companionship he knew in life, earned in life.  The years the man before you held the throne were well spent, and Drachath prospered!”  She had to pause, then, at a spontaneous cheer from the commoners in the back ranks, though several of the nobles took it up as well even as they dabbed at misty eyes with whatever kerchiefs were handy.  “From the Northlook Incursion the very year he was crowned,” she continued as those cheering paused for breath, “to the defeat of the Black Gulf Pirates barely a month gone, Burtak IV ruled wisely and well.  Many people, including those here today, helped him, but the crucial decisions were always his as king, and it was in his name that each of you made your own contribution to this mighty land we love.  His rest is well and truly deserved, and I would like at this time, as a member of his advisory council, to move to enter him into his bloodline’s records as Burtak the Great!  It is a scant honor for one departed, but equally the least we can do to acknowledge...”

\tShe had to break off again, since a rising, rhythmic chant had started at the back of the square, and it grew as more voices took it up, drowning out her elegy...

\t“Bur-TAK!  Bur-TAK!  Bur-TAK!”

\tThe priestess, for all her bias against malekind, could only smile, wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, and join in the chant in full agreement.

\tOn another plane of existence entirely, a much younger-looking raccoon looked on, a broad smile on his muzzle...  “I can’t believe it... did I really mean that much to those people?”

\tHis Goddess laid Her black hand on his shoulder as She nodded, “Yes, you did.  Your son’s going to have a lot to live up to...”

\t“But I can’t take all the credit!” he insisted.  “The Incursion was stopped by my Agents, and that clever captain I had to posthumously promote is the one who lured the pirates to their doom, only to lose his own life in the decisive battle... and what of Kia and Ren?  I can’t believe they just willingly died for me!”

\tKathalla chuckled softly, pulling at the shoulder in Her grasp to point out a pair of approaching, nebulous figures to one side, blurred outlines sharpening as they neared into the forms of the two girls in question, “Your subordinates did what they did in your name... and your final lovers obeyed you more out of love than from the detail that you owned them.  Don’t second-guess the adulation and adoration that others feel you deserve, for it is theirs alone to give.  Also, kindly remember that you’re now dead, and these things are no longer yours to worry about.  As I told your father, grandfather, and back along your family’s line from the first Duke of Fariach, you’ll only fret over things you can’t change if you remain focused on the world you’ve left behind.  That, in My opinion, is a waste of a perfectly good afterlife, and you have many friends here who’d rather have your attention.”

\tThe approaching slaves paused, blinking, as their transition completed, looking themselves over...  Ren, after a glance at her vulpine ‘sister,’ touched her own throat, clearly surprised to feel it without a collar for the first time since her childhood.  Kia was looking around, and grabbed the doe’s arm as she pointed excitedly ahead.  “Burty!” they cried in unison, and covered the last few spiritual yards at a run.

\tSuddenly smothered in soft fur and round breasts, the former king saw the wisdom in his Goddess’ words, and mumbled an incoherent agreement as he hugged his girls tight.  There were, indeed, better things to spend his afterlife upon than worry.

Chapter 2

\tFerrl paused in the small buffer-chamber, both doors open, to let the halberd-wielding guard precede him, two more having relieved the usual man at the top of the stairs and a fourth lingering behind the rest of his family.  “It’s clear, sir,” his fellow wolf reported, and he nodded as he led the rest of the procession into the playclub.  Only a few large candles were lit, this early in the morning, but the helpful soldier was already working on spreading those flames to increase the lighting.

\tGerial was keeping Rellan and Lirdon occupied at the palace, and Danara was out shopping for a few things for her mother, leaving Ferrl, Pria, Elaria, and Ronnel free to attend this meeting with as much secrecy as they could manage.  The sheer number of nobles visiting, their families crowding the streets wherever there was entertainment to be found, helped; one more group with guards wasn’t nearly as attention-worthy as it would have been in quieter times.  Even as the family settled around one of the large tables, the ‘fourth guard’ set ‘his’ halberd aside, then took a seat as well.  That large and muscular form rippled for a moment, seeming to shrink in place, and Serra set the keystone of the illusion down next to the unlit lantern, seeming perfectly at ease while effectively nude save for the straps connecting the crystals that had disguised her on the way here.

\tThe earl glanced over to the real guard, who was double-checking that the playroom and kitchen doors were locked, and rumbled, “I think it’s about time.”

\tThat wolf nodded, “Almost.  I’ll send the signal just as soon as I’ve checked the stage, sir.”

\tThis earned a nod in return, and a warning glance toward Pria, who grimaced even as she nodded too, then shut her eyes tightly with a grumbled comment about gates.  Unlike the initial blackness of the portals joining the duchies, everyone could see the glowing rectangle near one wall as the signal was sent and received, but it lasted only long enough for a distant guard to glance through and a robed form to cross over at a near-run.  Straightening, then, Lachier padded calmly over for the last few steps, and sank into the seat that Ferrl had pulled out for him.  “I’m starting to understand why my father left the palace as infrequently as he did,” the ‘coon mused.  “The hoops we had to jump through, just to secure a little visit with my friends at a known safe location, would be nothing compared to the hassle if I’d tried to get here through the streets.”

\tSeveral of those friends chuckled in understanding, though Elaria couldn’t help but ask, “Did you bring it?”

\tThe prince’s muzzle quirked in a half-exasperated grin as he pulled a long, narrow iron box from under his robe and set it on the table, “Yes, yes, I’ve got it right here... though I’m still curious as to why you asked my father to set up this account in the first place, and some of the donations have come from the damnedest sources.  My sister literally fainted when we opened a diplomatic pouch from the Herd Chieftain of the Vale and diamonds poured out!”

\tThe vixen grinned as she took charge of the box, “Then it worked...  My thought was that the best way to transport a fortune in gemstones was to simply make it look like something else.  Just another pouch in the courier’s bag, no fanfare or fuss.”

\tLachier nodded, “I’m not sure I’ve got the guts to gamble like that... but it worked this time, true enough.  Dani loves the earrings she had made from the stones the chief’s note said we could keep.  Anyway... I mainly wanted to talk to all of you because of my upcoming coronation... but probably not for the reasons you’d expect.  You’ll recall, before the crowd drowned her out, that the priestess mentioned the Northlook Incursion?”

\tEvery head nodded around the table, Ferrl rumbling, “That was also covered in the historical portion of my Agent training... and I recall that it wasn’t the first one.”

\tThe raccoon grimaced, “Historically, it’s getting to be almost a bad joke...  Out of curiosity, I had one of the court scholars do some research and provide an analysis... and, in my family’s history, fifty-six percent of our coronations were immediately followed by an invasion from Atheria, with whom we’ve had non-aggression treaties the entire time.  Despite this, they’ve never actually broken a single agreement with us.”  He raised a hand as several of his guests opened their mouths to protest that combination’s impossibility, “Hear me out!  The reason these haven’t been violations... is that they’ve never signed a treaty with our kingdom, or even dynasty; they’ve all been with the kings themselves!  That’s why, even before my coronation, I want to move as quickly as possible to get an ambassadorial delegation up to them, a new one since our current consuls’ recognition died with Burtak.  We need to either reestablish that pact, or get warning that a fresh invasion is on the way before it actually arrives; I’m already mustering troops to defend the border, but I’d really rather not have to if it’s at all avoidable.”

\t“The way I remember my history lesson,” Ferrl interjected when his liege-to-be paused, “is that your father didn’t waste any time either...  He had a fresh delegation off within a week of being crowned, and negotiations seemed to be going fine.  There were simply some... understandable, or at least cleverly explained, delays before the final signing, and in that brief time they mobilized their forces, confining the negotiators to the embassy in perfect accordance with established international custom just as the first unfriendly boot crossed the border.  Thus, in my opinion, that warning you just hoped for might take a bit of doing...  We’ll need to find out the truth no matter the smiles and reassurances we’re greeted with, given their track record.”

\tThe prince nodded with a sigh, “That’s exactly it... and why I want you folks on your way before my coronation, if possible.”  He turned to smile at the vixen he’d once enjoyed in that very club, possibly even the same seat she was in now, “Ela... I’ve consulted with my legal counsel, and we’ve come up with a phrasing to relinquish your title and grant it to your brother, even if I’m not officially your liege yet, that will carry on once I’m crowned.  You’ll still legally be your father’s firstborn, though, which is why I was considering you as my Atherian ambassador.”

\tThe proxy countess blinked, then nodded, “My husband and I had been speculating on just what we’d do once I wasn’t bound to Gatuque anymore... and this certainly sounds like a challenge.  Get up there, fast, and get a decent treaty negotiated and signed before they can invade, with a bit of risk and intrigue on the side...”  She glanced to her left, “Do you think we could pull it off, dear?”

\tRonnel shook his head, hands held helplessly wide, “I haven’t got a clue...  By the prince’s words, they don’t always invade, but I’ve personally seen just what your family’s ties to the unicorns has meant for local economies.  That, I must suspect, would make us an even more tempting target than usual.  Were I in your liege’s place, I’d make but a token effort, sending someone I wouldn’t mind losing to try for the treaty, but otherwise assume that war is inevitable and prepare accordingly.”

\tLachier leaned back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his muzzle with a wince, “Believe me, that same course has occurred to me... and I very much wish I could take it.  I have to try as hard as I can to avoid conflict, though, due to relatively recent developments...  The Vivenge Empire, north of the Vale, went one step beyond non-aggression with Atheria, signing a mutual defense pact some five years ago.  Now, the Atherian crown does have a reputation for honesty and fair play in its diplomacy, within strict limits such as only invading during lapses in formal relations, but that just means we run a bigger risk then ever.  You see, any border war involves at least a little bit of mutual penetration, and they could ‘fairly’ pull one very dirty trick, and agree to the treaty with us while even one of our troops is in their territory.  That’s all it would take to bring Vivenge’s massive army in on their side, with us as the treaty-breakers, and Drachath... would be no more within two years.  My generals have gamed it out repeatedly; even if we can expose that sort of legal trickery for what it is, and the Warkin joined us en masse in the name of justice, Fariach would be a flaming ruin no later than my thirty-eighth birthday.”

\tSilence descended on the gathering as they each absorbed the convoluted implications of the situation...  Finally, Serra mused half-wistfully, “My mother always told me that the little plots and intrigues in Stonecliff were simple compared to what she’d seen here.  I... I guess I finally believe her.  This is a fucking mess!”

\tHer king-to-be gave a pained laugh, “That, as they say in simpler climes, is tellin’ it like it is...”  More seriously in tone, though his half-grin remained a tad mischievous, he continued, “That’s also why you are here, though...”  His smile broadened at her surprised blink, and he went on, “You, I’ve heard, are one sneaky little bitch.  The knife you smuggled in just to twit my guard captain’s nose is only the latest of your antics, according to the very entertaining letters your parents occasionally sent me.  My father and I couldn’t stop laughing for nearly an hour after hearing of the way you got that mason’s deliberately substandard stone swapped with the order to remodel his own home...  It was his first time trying that trick, and also the last; we especially loved how you painted ‘go figure’ on the other side of the rock that killed him.  With preemptive strikes like that, we weren’t even remotely surprised when, just last winter, a routine check by an Agent reported that Stonecliff had the lowest rate of corruption in the entire kingdom!”

\tThe tigon was staring at tabletop, blushing, as she mumbled back, “I... almost screwed that one up.  Daddy had to quietly bribe two workers who saw me near the quarry office to testify that they couldn’t make out even the species of the figure they’d seen, when I honestly hadn’t noticed them at all, and there weren’t many other cats in town who matched the description in their original, conveniently ‘lost’ report.”

\tLachier shook his head, “For your age and experience, that was still a beautifully executed stunt.  The general public still has no idea who was behind that death, and several others, and they’ve actually taken to calling it ‘Hypalia’s Curse,’ though not anywhere your family would ever hear.  It’s growing into an outright legend, that anyone who doesn’t play fair in their business dealings in Stonecliff will come to a nasty, messy end, but Bromirin and Verona have made sure that we, in my family, know exactly what’s actually going on, in case you did get caught and needed a royal pardon.”

\tFerrl had to chuckle, “That sounds almost like Diral’s old hobby...  He never could pass up a chance to arrange an accident for someone who deserved it.”  He paused, and glanced to the prince, “What ever became of my old comrade, anyway?”

\tThe ‘coon looked around, his expression serious, “This doesn’t leave this room, people...”  Only when he’d gotten a nod of agreement from everyone did he continue, grinning again, “He’s the new captain of the surviving Black Gulf Pirates, but they won’t be such for long.  The crown is subsidizing a few merchants to sell to him cheaply, and buy at an excessive price, to vastly inflate the profits when the pirates take on a cargo ‘for cover.’  They’ll think it’s just part of a scam to get into a port and escape with information on fat targets... but those targets won’t be nearly as lucrative as expected.  Some day soon, they’re going to look at how much more money they’re making as traders, and probably give piracy up as a bad idea.”

\tSerra’s eyes were very bright as she visualized the described scenario, “Dayuhm, you guys play for the big prizes here in Fariach!  That scheme makes mine look downright amateurish!”

\t“Which, as I was saying before, brings us back to the reason you were invited,” Lachier mused.  Reaching under his robe again, he fished around in a vest pocket, then dropped two glints of silver and red on the table.  “Serra, daughter of Bromirin and Verona, and Pria, daughter of Sir Ferrl and Danara... I have an offer for you two.  You’ve probably never even heard of the position, because we had a little trouble with the logistics... but it still officially exists.  I’d like to make you both Junior Agents of the kingdom, and part of the ambassadorial party.  I’m hoping that your ages will help people underestimate you, once you reach Atheria, making you some of the best spies I could possibly send.”

\tWolf and tigon blinked in unison, the former darting an accusing glance at her father.

\tFerrl nodded, unrepentant, “Yes, I knew he was going to make that offer.  I know you wanted to be a ‘real’ Agent, but there’s no time for the testing and any extra training you might need if we’re going to get you on your way north soon enough to do some good.”

\t“In one sense,” Lachier pointed out, “these are real Agent badges, only the metal differing.  That problem I mentioned was that we couldn’t come up with a second signature spell for those rubies, so there’s no difference in how Stones of Validation react to them.  If you accept, I’ll need an oath in the name of your favorite deity that you won’t have these pins gilded, because if you did, there’d be no telling you from any other Agent as far as the rest of the kingdom knows.”

\tSerra reached out with a trembling hand to pick up one of the badges, eyes wide with wonder as she half-purred, “I never imagined an offer like this... but I accept, oh Goddess I accept!  By Kathalla and in Her name, I swear I won’t gild this!  Thank you, your Highness!”

\tPria looked a bit more hesitant, accepting the pin readily enough, but it was the club itself she cast a nervous glance around...  “I hate to admit this, here, but... well, I seem to have inherited only a fraction of my family’s bloodlust.  If we’re talking about favorites, though, I do swear by Roxanarra that I won’t gild my badge.  I do follow Kathalla, too, so it’ll be legal to make me an Agent if things work out later, but... not quite as enthusiastically.”  Relaxing somewhat once her father and liege nodded their acceptance, she grinned to her older sister, “It’s all your fault...  You kept your promise to me when I turned twelve, and taught me just what it was like to bed a girl... and I liked it.  A lot.”

\tThis fetched a dreamy-eyed giggle from Elaria, “So that’s why you’ve made it our annual ‘present’ for both of our birthdays... and why you’ve gotten so much better yourself, every year.  I can’t say I’m sorry.”

\tThe lone feline of the crowd arched a brow, giving the other girl her age a speculative look, “Ooh... and we’ll be on this mission together...  We’re going to have to talk about this, later.  As you can probably guess from my mother’s old reputation, I was raised with more... diverse tastes than most girls, too.”

\tPria, in response, simply stuck her long, broad tongue out, and flicked the tip teasingly.

\tNudging his chair back, Lachier stood, “Then it’s settled...  I’ll be crowned in four days, the next official restday after the funeral, but I want Elaria, Pria, Serra, and anyone else who you feel should go along on my fastest ship with tomorrow’s morning tide.”

\tRonnel raised his hand, “I’ll be accompanying my wife.  Whether we bring our son or not... we’ll discuss in the day we have left.  There is, after all, some degree of danger, and potential situations in which we’ll be required to be unarmed.  My bare-handed techniques, then, would be a potentially decisive asset, and I must insist on offering.”

\tThe ‘coon nodded, “That’s entirely up to her, as I declare her the ambassador right this moment.  Just keep in mind that the ship can only hold a dozen passengers at most, and they’d have to leave some crew behind for that, so the more people you take, the more work you’ll have to help with on the way.  For now, I’ve spent as much time here as I can get away with; there’s a dozen things that will require my immediate and urgent attention, the moment I show my face in the palace again.”  He rolled his eyes, “Just what, I don’t know... but there’s always something absolutely vital these days...  Good luck, my friends.”

\tFerrl rose as well, offering his hand... then pulled his old friend into a quick, hard hug.  “I’ll have to get back to my own embassy soon,” he rumbled, “but thank you for your time.  I miss just hanging out like we did as teens, rare as that was...”

\tThe prince sighed, “And I miss having you as an Agent...  You were just starting to feel like an anchor my father and I could depend on; give you the job, and we’d never have to worry about it again... and then he retired you.  Still, I have faith that your daughters will prove just as reliable... old friend.”  Without another word, and showing no shame at the tears in his eyes, he turned back toward the point where the temporary gate was re-forming, and back to duty.

* * *

\tAs an ambassador, Elaria had the right to a personal guard no matter where she went... and, just this once, she was happy to ‘abuse’ some aspect of her power to minimize any delays in the one thing she absolutely had to do while in Fariach.  It had been planned for nearly two years, and the fact that she’d be rushed onto a boat the next day was no reason to call it off.  Six big men in plate armor and palace-livery surcoats accompanied her toward the blocky structure that was her goal, two peeling off to flank its main entrance while the others accompanied her inside.  She didn’t envy the ones outside, as the afternoon sun would turn their suits into portable ovens, but none of them had so much as winced when she’d told them her plans.  Those without a firm sense of duty, or those likely to complain at the first hint of discomfort, never made it past basic training in the palace guard.

\tThe white mink behind the counter looked to be in her early twenties, probably the daughter or niece of the last holder of that post the countess had known, and she was clearly more than a bit startled as the guards took up positions at all four corners of the room.  It was only as the vixen in the middle drew near that she managed to squeak, “Name?”

\t“Elaria.”

\tThe answer didn’t mean anything in the younger woman’s mind, but its prompt delivery helped remind her of her routine, and her voice was much steadier as she asked, “Rank?”

\t“Princess, proxy countess, ambassador, blade dancer, army colonel, knight of Malia, champion of Malia, senior priestess of Malia, priestess of Roxanarra, and itinerant high priestess of Kathalla.”

\tThe mink had been blinking by the third title, and it just got worse as the list went on and on, and she cringed at the emphasis on the last one.  It was all she could do to keep from running and instead stammer, “T-type and n-n-number of purchase?”

\tElaria’s reply came in the form of a piece of parchment set on the desk, a copy of the slave house’s own breeding records, with one name circled in fresh red ink, “You may wish to fetch your boss... as it’s my intention to purchase every... last... one of my relatives whom you have in stock, right down to the brooders and studs.  I wasn’t always, you see, a princess, and the name on this sheet was mine.”

\tThe poor girl could only stare in horror at the document, then fearfully at the heavily-armed guards and her customer’s own sheathed swords, before reaching for the far right bell-pull and yanking for all she was worth, something snapping in the system at her third tug and several feet of rope spilling free into her hands.

\t“H-he’ll be right here, ma’am!  I mean your Grace.  Highness?  Your Worship?!?”

\tEla relented enough to smile, “Shhh... don’t worry.  I said buy, not forcibly emancipate!  We won’t have any trouble unless your manager refuses the sale, and then only with him.  I’m sure that if I start having my men behead the upper ranks, we’ll get someone willing to sell to me long before we get to you.”

\tThe reassurance did little to ease the woman’s shivering, and she clung to the counter with both hands as she awaited the man she’d called for, eyes darting wildly between the ominously-still guards and the door to the upper levels.  That door finally opened, and a grossly obese bear squeezed through, still struggling to fasten his breeches after one of his ‘quality assurance’ sessions had been so loudly interrupted by the bell.  He paused at the sight of what seemed like a small army in the confined space of the entryway, and just held his pants up manually as he asked, “What’s all the fuss, Grella?”

\tThe countess held up her parchment again before the mink could answer, “I wish to purchase an entire product line... the one I came from.”

\tBarely glancing at the document, the manager shook his head firmly, “Sorry, we’re sold out of that one.”

\tAs her ‘customer’ merely frowned, the secretary half-squealed, “Sir!  She’s a high priestess!  You can’t lie to her!”

\t“Of course he can,” the vixen countered as she reached over her shoulder with her free hand, “but only once.”  The man barely had time to blink; an instant and a silvery blur later, her arm was at full extension to one side, the sword it held bloodied, and the bear sank to his knees then toppled over, his head rolling free as he struck the floor.  She gave the blade a flick to clear its blood groove, and calmly addressed the girl again, “Please pull the second bell.  Gently this time.”

\tThe mink swallowed visibly, then gave a shaky nod and obeyed.  The gilded iron filigree that separated her from the customer side of the counter had never looked so fragile as when that curved sword gleamed red...

\t“Didn’t Harjal just...” a middle-aged, but fit, badger was asking when he entered, only to freeze at the sight of the man in question, in two pieces, and the enormous puddle of blood around him.  Moving very slowly and carefully, he completed his stride and closed the door, shrewd eyes drifting between guards, the swordswoman, and his employee.  “What’s going on here?” he asked, quietly.

\tAt Elaria’s nod in her direction, the mink spoke up, “Sir... this woman’s a princess, and a high priestess... but also one our own products, long ago.  She’s asked to buy the rest of her family, but Har... Harjal told her we didn’t have any, without even checking!  Three seconds after he lied to her, she k-killed him.”

\tThe house’s second in command shook his head with a sigh, “That bear always did have more balls than brains...  I assume, your Highness, that the parchment in your hand describes your lineage?”

\tElaria took a moment to wipe her sword on her hip and sheathe it before nodding, offering the document once more, “Yes.  I was born into one of your prime pleasure lines, bought at age six, and from there my life got... interesting.  I hold no grudge against Owned Elegance, despite present appearances, but I really would like to buy my relatives, and I’ll pay you even more than the small fortune they’re worth.  You see, in the western half of the kingdom, and a bit of Dengar as well, the Roxanite temples have had a decline in applicants the last few years.  I will, of course, be freeing all of the foxes and vixens I buy here today... but I know, from my own experience, just how much we like what we were bred for, so those who choose to can still do what they enjoy, but for a Goddess rather than a Master.”

\tThe badger was looking shrewd again, “And you want only the ones we have here?  You won’t go chopping up more of our staff if, say, we spend some of that fortune on buying back others who’ve already been sold, so we can keep the breed up?”

\tHis ex-product smiled, “That... is actually a very wise move for you to make.  No, I have no objection, and it isn’t my intent to permanently deprive O.E. of a profitable product line.  My biggest motivation... is faith, and wanting to do right by one of the churches I serve.  I know how good my breed is, and they’ll make excellent Roxanite priests and priestesses!”

\tThis fetched a rueful shake of the head and a chuckle, “Indeed...  Alright, let’s discuss this like rational people,” and he stepped around the puddle of blood, toward the farther of the benches for customers to wait on.  Patting the seat beside him in invitation, he asked, “Just how much are you offering?  We don’t normally sell our breeding stock, I’m sure you know, but if the price is right I have to at least consider it...”

\tElaria glanced to one of her guards and snapped her fingers before following, taking a moment to wipe her boots on the carpet once she’d left the crimson pool that had spread over them.  In response, the soldier clanked over, pulling the same iron box Lachier had given her out of a large belt pouch and passing it over.  “Don’t say no too quickly,” she cautioned as she opened the lid to show two long rows of tightly-packed gold nobles, “as that’s just the appetizer.  Give me a moment to get the second compartment open.”  The coins butted up against the edge of the box at one end, but ended several inches before the other, and it was there that she struggled with a stiff latch before sliding the secondary lid open.  Diamonds large and small sparkled in the lamplight, some nearly an inch in diameter.

\tThe badger’s calm demeanor cracked as the gems came into view, and he couldn’t help but whistle, eyes wide, “That... those have to be worth more than we make in a year!  I... I can see that we’re going to have to sell those very carefully, only a few at a time and over a wide area, or we’ll glut the market.  I’m almost afraid to ask where you got that many...”

\tThe princess shrugged, “Oh, that’s no secret...  Officially, they’re an offering of thanks from the nation of Unicorn Vale, to Malia, for opening Her wall and letting my family in... that is, the one that adopted me after I was bought, not the ‘family’ I’m here to buy.  They were also something of a surplus to begin with, as they didn’t want to ruin any markets either by selling too many of their gems too fast...  Malia’s church, though, particularly in the Vale where almost everyone’s a member, has no use for the donation.  Malia was happy to give away something She didn’t need, when Her sister did.  The gold, in contrast, is from Roxanite temples and enclaves, large and small, rich and poor.  Everyone contributed a little, and from farthings on up the trickling donations were consolidated until they reached the total you see here.”

\tWith one more wondering shake of his head, the man looked up, “You, your Highness, have a deal.  Two of our brood-vixens just littered, so counting the cubs we have at least twenty of your kin here.  The youngest, of course, haven’t even begun training, but your line is one that’s consistently improved with each generation, and I’m sure they’ll have every bit of the libido and enthusiasm you expect.”  He glanced over toward the desk, “Grella?  You’ve just earned a bonus for staying on duty in a literally terrifying situation.  Five of these nobles are yours, and I guess one or two of the smaller diamonds if you want to make jewelry with them.  Please ring for someone to fetch a few domestics from the basement to clean up the mess in here and bring up the spare carpet.  I’ll be escorting this fine lady upstairs, to gather up her purchase.”

\tManaging the first smile to grace her muzzle since her workplace’s invasion, the mink nodded and gave the second-left-most bell-pull a quick tug, “Yes, sir!”

Chapter 3

\tPria blinked, then did her best to hide a grin, as Serra came down the stairs of the inn, eyes still half-closed but the rest of her drawn unerringly toward the table and the scents of the food thereon.  “I take it you’re finally recovered from the voyage?” she asked as the tigon sat.

\tThe armored feline nodded vigorously, wasting no time as she grabbed a plate and fork and started spearing chops, sausages, strips of bacon, and a pair of buttered rolls, “Goddesses... I hope I never have to take another trip like that!  I do well enough on a fishing boat on a lake... but I didn’t really think about what it meant, that we were on the fastest ship in Lachier’s entire navy!  Two days... to pass the entire coasts of Fariach and Northlook by, and another hundred miles to Crown Port, with a ‘minor’ storm in the middle!  I’m just glad the actual capitol’s inland; without this last leg of the journey, I’d have been in sorry shape indeed to show up at the palace.”

\tHer lupine friend nodded, “The captain did say that he’d never seen a lubber quite as seasick as you got, and I overheard the mate hoping that none of the fish choked on the toeclaws you’d obviously heaved up.  Anyway, we’re back on dry land to stay, now, and we should be in Atheria City in time for lunch thanks to the carriage and good horses the former ambassador thought to send ahead.  As we speak, Lachier’s coronation is probably proceeding, so the timing worked out just about perfectly.  The Atherians know our traditions as well as we do, and if we’d gotten here any faster they’d probably quibble over our credentials being in the name of someone who wasn’t quite a king yet.”

\tSerra nodded as she chewed...  On the ship, she’d sworn she’d never eat another bite, but her appetite had returned with a vengeance that scoffed at that feeble oath.  Shrugging, she swallowed and grimaced, “Technicalities...  Those seem to be the national fetish, here.  Sure, I suppose it’s theoretically possible for Danique to have her brother assassinated then blackmail the advisory council into naming her queen in the space of an hour, but that’s a damned long shot of a ‘maybe’ to base international relations on!  Why can’t anyone see ‘close enough’ as just that?”

\tAcross the table, Elaria chuckled, “Welcome to high-stakes diplomacy, dear...  These tiny-seeming points of fact and speculation are, indeed, important all out of any sensible proportion.  In any case, Kathalla would have told us if anything had happened to interfere with the coronation, and Dani would be the last person to do that sort of thing.  She... has her own fetishes, which I directly participated in, decades back, and ascending the throne would put far too big a crimp in her love life for her to ever bother.  Now, eat well, but carefully; if you stuff yourself too quickly you may just end up losing it again, but I still want us to be on our way in twenty or thirty minutes.”  Pausing only to stuff half a sausage into a roll and take a bite, the vixen glanced to the armored elk just finishing his own breakfast at the foot of the table, a question in her eyes.

\tThe soldier nodded, understanding, and confirmed, “Everything’s still green, ma’am.  At a trot, we should make the city within three hours, and it’s a restday, so all the market traffic was either yesterday or around dawn this morning for fresh produce.  You haven’t broken the speed limit yet, and I’ll swear to the gate guards that I personally saw you step off of that Drachathian ship under official flags.”  He tilted an ear toward the feline, “I agree with your own guard, that the niggling little points the upper brass fuss over can be silly... but that’s why I agreed to tag along.  I don’t want a war any more than the next trooper, so we need to get you to where you can prevent one as fast as possible, and I’m happy to help.”

\tRonnel pushed his plate away and brushed away a few crumbs before nodding, “We’re glad to have you along, Sergeant.  I, for one, wouldn’t have known that driving a carriage at a gallop would have only served to slow us by means of being arrested...  Your local knowledge of just which of these ‘niggling’ points are sore ones has probably saved us several days of avoidable delays.”

\tThe Atherian solder nodded, though he wouldn’t quite meet the fox’s gaze.  He’d thought the man’s wife had been joking when she promised a blowjob in return for his help... and still hadn’t quite recovered his full aplomb after being proven, however pleasantly, wrong.

* * *

\tThe usual murmur of conversations faded somewhat as the huge, ornate doors swung open, and the herald, robe glinting with sewn-on jewels and his heavily gilded staff thumping on the carpet, called out, “Dame Elaria, Priestess of All Goddesses, Ex-Regent of the Earldom of Gatuque, duly appointed Ambassador Apparent of Drachath, approaches to seek recognition and accreditation!”

\tThe vixen’s two ‘guards’ kept their expressions carefully neutral at that rather abbreviated list of titles, the best they’d managed to haggle out after nearly twenty minutes of excessively polite argument with the herald.  There were fewer slaves in Atheria than Drachath, limited to specific family lines, but no legal procedure for freeing them, so the ambassador’s birth necessitated a number of compromises.  The ‘regency,’ for example; that was a post that could, theoretically, have been filled by a commoner, and the closest relationship to her real titles they could use.  Her knighthood and ecclesiastic ranks had both been earned from recognized religious authorities, bypassing the hierarchy of secular nobility entirely, so they still applied, but it was a sure thing that no official of this court would ever call her a princess except, possibly, as a sneered point of diplomatic insult.  Serra and Pria were, of course, unarmed, and Ronnel had been firmly denied access to the throne room at this delicate juncture...  Until the embassy had been formally recognized, neither spouse nor honor guard had any of their usual rights.

\tThe middle-aged cougar at the other end of the room turned away from his teenaged wife and stood, raising a hand, and even the whispers between his assorted courtiers faded entirely.  “Why,” he asked, “is this woman allowed into our presence wearing those swords on her back?”

\tElaria spoke up for herself, calling upon her choral practice to project a clear, ringing voice, “Your Majesty, I tell you the same thing I told your guards...  One of these swords is of the finest mortal craftsmanship in the world, while the other is a duplicate, particle for particle, forged by a Goddess.  Even I don’t know which is which, as the original was in my room when Malia made the second as a birthday present.  You’re free to confiscate one and put the other in a temple as befits a holy relic, but it’s your own soul you’d be risking on the flip of the proverbial coin.  It would, I think, be far easier to simply treat these blades as my right as a knight, and be done with it.”

\tThe cat’s eyes had widened slightly at her claims, but he controlled his expression quickly enough, nodding regally as she fell silent, “I can see why my functionaries... deferred that decision.  May I have your oath, then, as a knight and priestess, that you won’t use those blades in this room?”

\t“By Malia, by Roxanarra, and by Kathalla, I swear not to draw steel save in direct defense of my person in this chamber,” she replied solemnly.

\tQuirking a brow, the king nodded once more and relaxed back onto his throne, “You show wisdom, at this point in time, by making no mention of defending your kingdom in that oath...  I accept it, then, and you may approach to present your credentials.”

\tSeveral of the watching guards relaxed as the small party resumed its procession down the central carpet, not the least of which were the Drachathians.  The two young women had spotted the loophole in that oath even if the king had missed it; if trouble erupted, they could each grab a sword off of their boss’ back even if she couldn’t.  Fortunately, that briefly-tense moment seemed to have slipped completely into the usual formalities, Elaria handing her thick sheaf of signed and sealed parchment to the king’s seneschal, who proceeded to read aloud the names, descriptions, roles, and requested rights of every member of the embassy, from ambassador to châtelaine.

\tWhen the lengthy recitation had concluded, the monarch stood a second time and declaimed, “Your embassy is in good order by the standards of years past, but the more recent alliance between Mighty Atheria and Unconquered Vivenge has altered those standards somewhat...  We no longer offer diplomatic immunity to any embassy’s honor guards.  You, as ambassador, and your immediate family still enjoy that protection, but we are aware of your... questionable adoption, and the fact that one of your guards is considered your sister in Drachath.  By local law, only your husband falls under the appropriate definition.  We wish to offer no insult by this reduction in traditional ambassadorial prerogatives, though, so in partial compensation, while still meeting our own treaty obligations, I offer your embassy guards the legal status of Atherian citizens for the duration of their residence and duties here.  They shall still be subject to all applicable laws and restrictions, but without the additional rules and limitations normally faced by foreign nationals within our borders, and your embassy grounds themselves remain Drachathian territory.  Can you accept these limitations?”

\tRaising one hand for just a moment’s delay, Elaria stepped back and whispered to her two companions, “That means you’ll be able to wear knives, at least...  Memorize the length of what the courtiers have in their belts, as it’s most likely a legal limit, and when we get to the embassy, find someone who knows if there’s a limit to number as well.  Many of the boots here are suspiciously stiff-sided, so it’s more than one.”  At a pair of quick, silent nods, she turned back to the king, raising her voice again, “Your Majesty, my staff and I are able to accept these new rules, and we will abide by them, with our thanks for your obvious efforts to find a compromise that won’t leave us defenseless in a strange land.”

\tOne more nod from the heavy-set feline was forthcoming, “Then I, Keesanrel III, do formally recognize and greet you as ambassador of his Majesty, Lachier II of Drachath.  With our agreed-upon alterations regarding immunity, I accept your credentials as they stand, and direct that my clerks prepare a revised official roster for the embassy for your approval no later than tomorrow morning.”

\tEven as two pairs of boot heels clicked behind her, the girls snapping to attention, Elaria simply smiled and bowed deeply, as the confirmation of her status immediately reduced her freedom to speak.  Her muzzle was now Lachier’s, legally, and, outside of the embassy walls, she’d be generally expected to keep it shut unless in a formal meeting with Keesanrel’s representatives.

* * *

\tKeesanrel let the servant help him out of his heavy state robes, then took a seat and waited for the door to close before turning to his court wizard, “So, Tyron... are they what they seem to be?”

\tThe younger cougar, incidentally the king’s own first cousin, nodded as he grabbed a decanter of wine and two goblets from the small room’s sideboard, “On the surface, yes; an ambassador and two young guards.  Below that, though...”  He reached up to touch the small, bronze, feline face dangling from the silver chain around his neck, “Their souls are... intriguing.  That girl who looks like a striped lioness is the simplest, being a pure and devout Kathallic as we might expect, but the young bitch is oddly mottled, as if she serves the Fanged One as an afterthought.  The ambassador herself... is even worse, her spirit as complicated as a calico’s fur.  On a marginally more mundane level, the wolf’s a minor mage, barely trained and with the potential for mastery only if she studies hard ‘til middle age, but the only actual magic I could sense was on the order of low-powered signature spells, in the credential documents and at two more points, as best I could tell within each of the guards’ vaginas.  They look too young to be Agents, but if they’d hidden badges up there it’d account for what I’d sensed.”

\tThe king frowned faintly as he reached out to accept one of the goblets his cousin had filled, “They’re too young, right, but only one of them is any sort of mage, and it takes at least a little of that talent to be an effective Agent...  If we’d been able to prepare a proper reception at the port, I’d have had them searched, yes, even there, to clear this mystery up, but it’s too late now.  Blast it, how did they get here so fast?!?”

\tTyron shook his head with a sympathetic smile, “By studying history, my liege.  Particularly with how prosperous their country’s been in recent years, they have to know we’re considering an invasion, so they pulled out all the stops.  Unfortunately, we’ve never passed any laws regarding post-dating official documents...  Lachier’s signature, even if he wasn’t king yet, counts on their credentials since he’s king now.”

\tKeesanrel downed another gulp of wine, sighing as he eased further back into the high-backed chair’s soft cushions, always grateful for the relaxation to be found in the ruby liquid after even an ordinary day of court, “So we’ve got two, potentially very dangerous children, with some sort of official standing even if it’s not full Agency, and an ex-slave who, by all accounts, has had carnal knowledge of every species on two legs, assuming for the moment that the slut stopped there.  Is Lachier fucking insane?!?  He has to know how precarious a position he and his whole kingdom are in; you’d think he’d send someone experienced, someone competent!”

\tHis cousin blinked, struggling to keep a reflexive scowl off his muzzle since he knew full well that his king actually meant the one thing he hadn’t said, ‘someone male,’ and said instead, “My liege... don’t underestimate who he did send.  The ambassador’s father is personally responsible for Unicorn Vale being opened to outsiders for the first time in a thousand years, and she was with him when it happened.  One of the guards is his own natural daughter, too, and the other’s mother may have been even more of a ‘slut,’ but she personally managed to turn an entire, ailing county around, and she didn’t do it by spreading her legs.  In any case, please keep your speculations regarding the embassy’s collective love life to yourself, as they are on good, speaking terms with several deities.  If we’d had this conversation in public, you’d have at least two of the kingdom’s high priests questioning your fitness to rule.”

\tThe older cougar winced faintly, then knocked back the rest of his wine and reached across the table for the decanter, pouring a refill, “Damnit... you’re right, as usual, my friend.  It’s... hard, cursed hard, to let some of those details pass without comment, but I’ll try to lose myself in the usual dance of half-truth and delay while our troops muster and train up.  Unless something completely unexpected occurs, we will invade, though now I’m seriously considering only a shallow bridgehead into Northlook, then cutting across to their duchy of Rajai...  It’s a long way to their capitol, but not quite so long to the entrance to the Vale, and if we seize that strongly enough, possibly cutting off their northern holdings entirely, all the way to Dengar...”

\tTyron forced his expression to remain neutral as he agreed blandly, “Economically speaking, that would probably be our best option.”  ‘... if we’re stupid-greedy enough to attack in the first bloody place!’ he added to himself.

* * *

\tThe very similar, if larger, meeting taking place at that moment in the Drachathian embassy was made more formal by the presence of the last ambassador’s chief aide, at least at one end of the dining room’s long table.  At the other, though, protocol was being lightly shattered by Pria’s and Serra’s occasional gasps and giggles.  They were trying to pay attention, true, but it was a little difficult while distracted by their little game of trying to fish each others’ badges out of their ‘hiding spots.’

\t“... so I went through the archives, and compiled a list of every single official inquiry, debated point of protocol, or other delaying tactic that they’d used in the past,” that aide reported.  “The most effective of these, previously, was a demand to survey our official borders and make sure that all the landmarks were still in place, and that neither side was encroaching unlawfully...  As a matter of routine, your predecessor double-checked exactly those details every five years.  The latest survey’s about two years old, but the results of a fresh one should be arriving within a week, or as little as three days if we’re exceptionally lucky, since we’d registered a standing order with the border garrisons’ engineering corps to confirm all the details previously quibbled over the moment Burtak died.”

\tElaria nodded, “Thank you, Meviran; that’s an excellent precaution, and I’ll be keeping an eye out for the report in the diplomatic pouch if we manage to make it a week without war.”

\tThe white mink gave a nod that left the impression he’d bowed, then went on, “The stickiest point in the job ahead of you is the mutual protocol clauses in their treaty with Vivenge...  While, in principle, standardizing these sorts of things across nations and legal systems is a good thing, we weren’t included in the initial sharing, and they’ve refused to release the exact text of their treaty thus far.  I’ve managed to... ‘acquire’ transcripts of almost every session of their high magistrates’ courts that dealt with disputes between parties of differing nationalities, and my analysts think they’ve identified several of the newer definitions and standards in use, but at least one pair of these transcripts are mutually contradictory.  Those particular cases are relatively minor, both dealing with customs inspections and what does and does not need to be declared, and I suspect that the differing final judgments represent the biases of the individual magistrates, despite their oath of neutrality.  Still, I have someone keeping an eye out for a tie-breaking decision we can refine our information with.”

\tHis new boss nodded with a faint frown, “I think I’ll make that the central point of my first official meeting...  They cannot seriously expect us to work in the dark; if they won’t give us a copy of the treaty, or at least a list of all legal definitions that are defined or changed in it, then I’ll have to interpret their refusal as a rejection of our embassy itself and any formal relations with Drachath.”  Several of the aide’s assistants blinked at that, though Meviran himself managed to look unruffled, and she smiled grimly, “I’m almost certain they’ll fold... because they’ll lose all possibility of support from Vivenge if they don’t.  I will sever all relations and withdraw the embassy entirely, and their hypothetical plan to invoke the mutual defense clauses of their existing treaty requires that they have something with us, for us to take the blame for breaking!  This whole issue of definitions, too, is a twofold weapon against us, both in debating wordings simply to delay us, and to possibly slip a term into the new treaty I’m supposed to seek that doesn’t mean quite the same thing to both sides.  I refuse to operate in ignorance, and if they try to make me, they’ll regret it.”

\tThe mink hid a shiver at her implacable tone; he’d worried, briefly, that sending someone other than a ‘pure’ Kathallic might saddle him with a weakling, someone too much in love with the notions of compromise and coexistence to take a hard line, but that was most definitely not the case with the new ambassador.  Glancing down at the notes he rarely needed, just to order his reeling thoughts, he went on, “Last on the list of things I was directed to bring to your attention is the religious aspect...”  He had to fight an amused smile, then, at how quickly Elaria’s ears perked up.  “Atheria officially supports the deities of light, but the... degree of that support has lessened recently.  Specifically, certain traditional protections or special rights are no longer provided by the legal system.  Molinden’s divinity is not recognized at all, even partially as in our kingdom where we call Him a demigod, despite direct communication from the ‘old’ pantheon confirming that he exists, and was created as a joint project between Shattrathin and Karnaal to encourage moderation among merchants, being neither too greedy nor stupidly generous.  Thus, His followers and clergy receive no official benefit from their devotion.  Tarragh’s Warkin, in a distantly-related issue, no longer enjoy any exemption whatsoever to where citizens can or cannot legally go armed or armored.  The dark Gods, of course, get the really smelly end of the stick: no temples, and zero protection.  Simple identification as one of Their followers is enough to warrant an investigation, including search of property, and sacrificing anyone but an owned slave to Kathalla will get you arrested and formally tried for murder.  There’s been some effort to repeal the Roxanites’ exemption from prostitution-related licensing and tariffs, but they saw it coming and started offering free or discounted services to select officials, by some of their very best practicing clergy, then simply pointed out that they’d be unable to continue that sort of thing if the proposed restrictions went into law.  Needless to say, that motion is currently quite, quite stalled.”

\tElaria smiled, sighing a bit, “I wish I could solve my problems the same way...  The king here is on his third wife, and clearly chose her for reasons other than her brain, suggesting the possibility of leading him around by his balls... but, alas.”

\tSerra took Pria’s badge out of her mouth and handed it back before commenting, “I’m the queen’s age and close enough in species...  Hell, with my mix I could probably bear the man an heir.  He’s a bit chubby for my tastes, but if seduction ever seems like a viable option, just let me know.”

\tThe aide frowned slightly, but the ambassador nodded, “I’ll keep your offer in mind, dear.  Probably not for the king... but I can’t be the only one of us to have noticed that the court wizard’s Maliite, even if he’s only got an acolyte’s pendant.  He’s younger and thinner, too, and reputed to have influence with the king...  He’d be the most likely prospect for such a ploy, rather than risk charges of conspiring to entangle the monarch himself in an infidelity scandal.”  She glanced back to Meviran, “Oh, don’t look so worried...  I’m not about to try seducing my way to a treaty, but we’ve got to keep our options open.  In the right circumstance, this is no different than the bribes you handed out for those court transcripts, save for the nature of the currency in use.  Now... if there’s nothing else you need to brief us all on, it’s just about time for supper, which I’ll take in my office while I browse my predecessor’s notes and private files.  Just let me know when you can arrange an official meeting for me, and I’ll proceed as I’ve outlined then.”

\t“As you wish, Ambassador,” her aide nodded, then withdrew, his staff trailing behind.

\tSerra glanced over as soon as the door clicked shut, “Alright, puppy, I’m sure you’ve sucked out all the flavor by now...  Could I have my badge back?  I’ll need to stash it safely before I change out of this uniform and look into the embassy’s most popular attraction; that’s where I want my dinner, since it’s here...”

\tRonnel and Pria both blinked, looking confused, so Ela filled them in with a chuckle, “It’s simple, almost obvious, when you think about it...  As Meviran just explained, there are no temples to the dark Gods in this country, at least not obvious ones... and this complex is Drachathian territory, so our rules apply, not theirs.  Where else do you think the local faithful would put a Kathallic playclub?  It’s actually more public than the ones back home; everyone knows it’s here, and we don’t turn away the Godless.  It does a lot more business in renting slaves for simple sex, or for people who want to beat someone up without consequences even if they’d never kill anyone, too.  The ambassadorial guard already stationed here doubles as peace-keepers and bouncers there, with several ‘main’ rooms depending on the degree of play folks are looking for...  It’s not surprising, really, that this is one embassy that’s never needed a budget sent from Fariach.  There are more than enough Atherians with money and a taste for the exotic to support us.”

\tPria giggled faintly, then shook her head, “It sounds like a fun place, but I think I’ll pass, myself.  Related to that, though, I wanted to ask... did you get the sleeping arrangements straightened out?”

\tSerra answered for her, “Yes, we’ve got the same room... and it’s got a climbable window and is connected to the escape tunnels.  We can sneak out at need easily enough... and I’ll join you there once I’ve had my fun, then probably ravish you for dessert.”

\tThe wolf nodded, licking her muzzle, “I’m looking forward to that...  The last time I got to lick a girl who’d just been worked up at one of those clubs,” and she grinned broadly across the table at her older sister, “I nearly drowned.  There’s not much else that can soak a Kathallic’s underdrawers like one of those places!”

\tElaria simply smirked back, “I remember that night... though I dare you to name a single time you’ve ever caught me wearing underdrawers.  Still and all, I’d just held down a stallion while Pola gutted him, then I got to do the same to her!  You know how much I like that sort of thing, and your muzzle buried in me was the perfect cap to the evening.”

\tOnce various naughty giggles, and a few snickers from the regular guards, had died down, Ronnel asked his wife, “And what should I do this evening, my love?”

\tThe vixen sobered and grimaced, “Just stay nearby and on call to keep me sane.  Half the troubles we’ve discussed tonight are technically secrets, and I expect to find even more in the confidential, eyes-only files of the embassy.  I’ll read as much as I can stomach at a go... at which time I expect to need your warm, solid embrace as my anchor in a world gone mad.”

\tHer fox’s eyes softened as he simply gazed at her for a long moment, then nodded, “Always, love, and you don’t even have to ask.”

Chapter 4

\tSerra finished the short walk between the embassy’s two arched entryways, both flanked by watchful guards but, unlike the main entrance’s courtyard, the second arch was the top of a covered staircase leading down.  Her Junior Agent pin was half-hidden by folds of her light sun dress, her embassy staff tassel more blatant on her right shoulder, those and the belt supporting her coinpouch the only clothes she’d bothered with, her feet bare.  A story and a half down, she opened the door inset with the steel fangs of Kathalla’s ‘casual’ mark, to find herself in an alcove set into a lateral hallway.

\t“Naughty, violent, or lethal?” the bored-looking wolf sitting at a desk with a cashbox asked.  He’d probably been there since the club opened at noon, and it showed.

\t“Lethal, I hope, but not until I get the rundown on this club,” she replied, leaning against the desk.  “I only just got here, with Princess Elaria’s party, and I need to know... well, everything!  What’s the cover charge, what are the fines for excess killing, do you want Atherian or Drachathian coin...”

\tThe desk man blinked, straightening up in his seat, then shook his head, “You’re staff... more than that, I’m guessing you’re part of the ambassador’s private council, not one of our consular-service regulars!  If you’d asked anyone upstairs, they’d have told you; the facilities and entertainments here are simply a perk of your job, and you can do whatever you please.”

\tSerra blinked, then shivered in pleased surprise, “Oh, my... and here I’d been worrying about burning through the allowance my folks sent me to Fariach with too quickly!  Still... how’s the slave supply?  As much as I’d love to literally bathe in blood, I don’t want to inconvenience the regular staff here with such slaughter that the pens are emptied overnight...”

\tThe wolf chuckled, “You could, though...  We hunt for the best bargains where looks and ability are concerned, for the ‘naughty’ room, but the club itself is a standing threat to ensure good behavior among local slaves.  The ones here for beatings or worse... were sold to us very cheaply by their owners, specifically as a punishment.  There’s actually a waiting list for those purchases, dozens available at need unless they amend their behavior enough to be taken off of it.”

\t“And what of collars?” the tigon inquired.  “Do the standards differ here compared to a Drachathian playclub, regarding just who one should or shouldn’t take liberties with?”

\tThis earned a low chuckle, “We’ve got a few of the types you’re used to that’ve been smuggled in, and they’ve got the color-coded collars and clasps you’re used to... but Atherian slaves are fitted with a solid iron ring collar before they’re a year old, tied on ‘til their heads are too big to get it off over.  If one proves particularly useful, we add a dab of black or purple paint to it, but the rest you can consider as disposable as any red.  If you take a black and someone bitches, well, that’d be three silver pennies local, or two Drachathian silver half-crowns, after your staff discount.”

\tSerra couldn’t help but purr as she nodded, “That... I can afford.  I think I’m going to enjoy this...”

\tThe wolf nodded back with a grin, then sobered and pointed, “That, though... you’ll want to take off your badge while you’re here.  The tassel’s enough as far as identification goes, where our staff are concerned, but a surprising number of local courtiers are regulars here.  If you’re seen with that, you’ll come under intense, official scrutiny, and every last word or act will be reported to the king’s spymaster.”

\t“Damn,” the tigon admitted as she unpinned her badge to bury at the bottom of her pouch, “I hadn’t thought of that, even after being told how popular this place was...  I’ll probably be dodging spies anyway, just for arriving in the princess’ company, but there’s no sense in making it worse.  Thank you for the advice and information... now, where can I go make a mess with someone’s internal organs?”

\tThe man grinned again and jerked a thumb, “Left end of the hall, and have fun!”

\tSerra was moving even as she grinned back over her shoulder, “Oh, I shall!  And thank you!”  A single teardrop of blood-red, polished stone was inset into the door there, and she idly guessed that the others were most likely decorated with a fist and some depiction of genitals respectively, but she didn’t let speculation keep her from opening it and stepping in.  Her thighs were already damp with anticipation... and the sight that greeted her failed completely to disappoint.

\tHalf of the large room was taken up by a raised, varnished pine platform, both edges occupied by uneven lines of nervously-waiting slaves.  The far wall held shelves of tools and toys, ranging from blades and bludgeons to manacles and ropes, and naked forms in collars splashed with black or, in just one or two cases, purple were occupied either mopping up three distinct patches of blood, one with a length of intestine still awaiting cleanup, or dragging a burly bull’s corpse toward a rear door.  Better than half of the patrons were only identifiable by their lack of collars, bundles of clothes tucked under most of the six large tables on the lower half of the room.  The meals visible looked ordinary enough, though it was anyone’s guess where the meat had come from, and a few of the patrons were clearly enjoying the raw, severed limbs of some biped, seasoned by bottles and shakers on a small tray in the middle of each table, clearly offering much more variety than the usual salt and pepper.

\tPicking a table with only two current occupants, both dressed and enjoying a meal, the tigon padded over and inquired, “Mind if I sit here?  Or, rather, leave my dress here while I pick a ‘playmate’ of my own to... invite to supper?”

\tThe lady of the vulpine couple, both looking to be in their mid-twenties, merely snickered, while her companion replied, “Not at all, lovely kitten...  This is the busiest time of night for this room, and neither of us expected to have the table to ourselves all evening.”

\tSerra nodded, then blinked, tilting her head, “I... think I’ve seen you before.  Weren’t you two on the left side of the king’s court, when I arrived with Ambassador Elaria earlier?”

\tBoth foxes nodded, the vixen musing, “Yes, you did...  We’re sister and brother-in-law to Count Openheim, respectively, and we keep an eye on the political situation for him while he attends to his holding’s affairs.  These are, of course, rather momentous times for such, given how frequently our countries have had short wars following the death of one of your kings... but we’re both hoping, for my brother’s sake, that such can be avoided this time.  The winter was rather hard this year, and we’ll have trouble supporting the troops our king will rightfully demand for another such battle, at least ‘til the spring harvest comes in.”

\tEven as she set aside her tassel, belt, and purse, the tigon nodded, “That’s what we’re here to prevent... if we can.  Every Atherian native I’ve met has been against war, but Drachath’s ties to Unicorn Vale have to be tempting to any monarch.  We’ll do everything we can to prevent conflict, but if Keesanrel’s got his mind made up, well...”

\tBoth vulpines nodded, looking like they’d bitten into something sour.

\tThe vixen’s expression, at least, grew much less unpleasant as the feline pulled her dress up and off, dropping it just under the table as she looked over the assembled slaves, and she mused quietly, “Do you two have any suggestions?  This is my first night in town, and I’ve no experience at all with the local breeding lines...”

\tHis wife busy licking her lips as she looked up and down the teen’s lithe body, the male mused, “Those lines have been established for centuries, matings arranged in a constant effort to improve them... so I’d have to say they’re all roughly equal by now.  Just pick whoever matches your appetites, for taste and lust alike.”

\tShe’d been far too sick to even consider intimacy on the journey here, so the only thing Serra really knew about Pria was that she liked girls... so she decided right then not to come home smelling or tasting like a man.  The nearest slave on the right side of the room that shared her table was a female mouse about her age, so she made her mental decision along with a physical nod, “Alright...  I’ll be back as soon as I’ve made a proper mess of that one there.”

\tThe vixen snickered, and her mate muttered something about getting to watch a ‘real Kathallic’ for a change.

\tSeveral of the waiting slaves tensed as, at the corners of their downcast gazes, an obvious carnivore strode firmly and directly up to the stage, some slumping a bit, others donning facial expressions, whatever best matched the image of ‘not worth choosing’ in their particular minds.  It took them another moment, though, to realize that the figure had stopped at the very end, and the mouse there let her gaze rise carefully higher... then dropped it with a hard wince as she confirmed that she was the one the newcomer was staring at.  “May... may I help you, Mistress?” she managed to force out.

\t“Yes, and I’m not going to lie to you... you are going to die tonight.  Such will, however, be a more pleasant experience than you can currently believe.  My current streak stands at five slaves in a row with an echo of pleasure still on their dead faces, and as a matter of personal pride I’ll do my best to make it six.  Hell, Kathalla told me that the third of those was actually disappointed to wind up in Her heaven, asking if she could please go right back for just a bit more licking...”

\tThe rodent blinked, her gaze nearly meeting her Mistress’ from sheer surprise until she wrenched it back down, and she could only shake her head in wonder, “That’s... better than I hoped for, when I was sent here, ma’am.  How would you like to begin?”

\tGlancing around, Serra admitted, “That’s actually a pretty good question...  Normally I’d have more furniture available to work with, as Drachathian clubs don’t have this one’s level of specialization, the rooms meant for several degrees of play.  While I’m working out the mechanics of it all, why don’t you tell me how you came to be here?  This is mostly just my own curiosity speaking, but I really do want to know what your ‘crime’ was.”

\tThis fetched a bitter grimace, “I was bought for both domestic chores and pleasure, for my owner and his teenaged son.  I followed every order I was given, be it immediate or ongoing, so he should have made it a standing order if he wanted me to share his double standard.  I had no reason to disobey, when his twelve-year-old daughter ordered me into her bed, and she certainly enjoyed herself... until her second peak’s cry caught his attention, and here I am.  I think he charged the club half a copper for me; I was just doing my job, but he was seriously pissed, and obviously couldn’t take it out on his ‘precious, innocent baby.’”

\tThe tigon gave a snort of unleavened disgust, “Bastard...  Babies grow up, and all the wishful thinking in the world won’t change that.”  She gave the slave a comforting pat on the shoulder, then a light tug in the same spot, “Come back to my table, then.  The chair there should suffice while you give me a taste of what his daughter enjoyed, as you’re obviously good with your tongue if you managed to make a virgin, or someone close to it, that happy before getting caught.”

\tHer prospective lover rolled her eyes as she followed obediently behind, “She wasn’t, and that was probably my biggest mistake, mentioning it while I was trying to explain.  There wasn’t even a shred of hymen left, as a finger or two might have left behind; I had her spread enough to see that much at least, and I only tongued the outer reaches anyway.  Someone, either a boy or the girl herself if she’d learned to masturbate frequently, got there first.”

\tSerra nodded as she reached the table, pulled her chair out a bit more, and sat down with her rump on the very edge, providing easy access to her own, already-moist folds as she spread her legs, “Sometimes I forget just how lucky I was to have been raised by an open-minded father and a downright promiscuous mother.  I was about twelve, myself, when Momma taught me how to give a stallion a blowjob without getting trampled.  Now, you kneel down here and show me what that tongue of yours can do.  Mine, and its rasps, will return the favor soon enough!”

\tEven as she knelt, the slave nodded with a wide smile at the irony, “Lucky indeed!  For the here and now, though,” and she leaned closer, eyes closing as she sniffed deeply, “let’s see if you taste as good as she did, which was almost worth my punishment, to be honest...”  Her slim tongue slipped out as she neared, brushing first against the dampened fur to either side; other than that daughter, she hadn’t had a woman to please since the days of her own training when she’d bunked in the all-female quarters at the slavers’, her sisters-in-service rarely sleeping alone unless some mistake on their part resulted in their being ordered to.  She tended to start slowly, there, as much for the goal of teasing her playmates with a slow build-up, usually resulting in an even more intense final release, as to test her own self-restraint, as she’d been criticized more than once by her teachers for diving in too enthusiastically.  The growing hint of a rumbling purr in this evening’s lover’s breath, as she drew nearer to bare, sensitive flesh with each lap, set her mind firmly into the well-worn rut of habit, not even the promise that she’d die tonight infringing on her enjoyment as she finally brought her fingers up to spread the feline’s mound and lap at the saltier, muskier residues between inner labia and outer.  She could feel her own sex swelling at the intense flavors of those deep crevasses, so frequently missed by daily groomings and only reached by long soaks in a proper bathtub, but the sweetness of fresh tigon-juice held its own temptation too, and she wasted no time in spreading those petals even further, lapping directly between the parted folds’ full length, the pleased yip that escaped above as she only barely missed her Mistress’ clit providing all the encouragement she needed to keep going.

\t“I can’t believe it...” the fox at another seat remarked, still blinking.  “You walked right up to her and said you were going to kill her, and here she is, licking like you were any other lover in the world!  If it weren’t a recipe for a cramped face, she’d be smiling!”

\tSerra’s giggle broke off almost immediately in a husky gasp as that tongue flicked her hood on the way back down, too, and her back arched against the chair as she spread her legs even wider, nodding shakily toward the other citizen, “I a-always keep my promises... no m-matter how, ooh... how good a lover she may be.”

\tThat lover took a moment to flatten her whiskers to her muzzle, then press its upper half in as deep as she could, tongue still teasing around the lower folds she’d spread for a long moment, gathering and swallowing the juices that puddled there before they could trickle over the edge.  Pulling back just a bit, then, she eased three slim, tight-grouped fingers inwards instead, rocking them gently back and forth as they sank gradually deeper, their short fur like a softer version of a feline’s tongue-rasps as it stroked the snug, moist passage’s walls, and she didn’t bother to open her eyes as she mused, “She promised me the best death I could hope for, sir.  I’m to be sacrificed, not just killed for fun, so this isn’t the last time I’ll get to do this after all.  What does my soul care, that my body will be bloody meat?”

\tHer husband simply shaking his head in wonder, the vixen smirked from where she leaned, getting the best view that she could, and murred, “A good question, indeed...  I kind of feel guilty, now, that the fellow I killed for dinner couldn’t enjoy the same fate.”

\t*There is, of course, a very simple solution to that lament, for future kills,* a chilling, disembodied voice mused to all four souls.

\tBoth Atherians’ eyes widened, and the slave couldn’t help but shiver, though she focused on her task again soon enough, curling her fingers upwards even as her tongue delved gradually, testingly lower...  A single, half-moaning grunt of encouragement answered the question her caress implied, so she followed through with her own suggestion, her tongue finding and probing the tighter, crinkled ring below, swirling over it in tiny circles to the sound of a happy feline sigh.

\tThe lady fox glanced over to her mate; the divine suggestion seemed obvious, after the fact, but she wanted to be sure...

\tEasily guessing the question in her eyes, he thought for another moment himself, then nodded, “I probably shouldn’t, since I run into the priests of our brother’s holding too often... but you may if you want to, dear.”

\tGrinning, the vixen glanced heavenwards and murmured, “Kathalla... I would indeed like to be Yours.”

\t*And so you are, My dear,* the Goddess replied.

\tSome part of Serra’s mind noticed the unplanned religious shift going on at her table, satisfaction at having helped her Goddess gain a new convert briefly coming to the fore of her consciousness, but the talented slave between her thighs demanded far more of her attention, her head tossed back and a long yowl drowning out the room’s other conversations as that pointy tongue finally penetrated her nether ring, pleasure wracking her body in a protracted shiver as her passage clenched around the invading fingers.  The slave had obviously picked up a few, very specific tricks before being bought for exclusively male use; those fingertips kept pressing up against the sensitive pad of her Mistress’ pubic bone, while their backs and knuckles filled the lower edge of her passage, staying well away from her clit, even as that rounded tongue curled at the tip, stroking and tugging at the inside of the ring it penetrated, both serving to prolong the spasms of pleasure to a point that nearly set records in the teen’s experience.  When her panting moans finally started to fade, the tremors of flesh quieting, the mouse eased her fingers gently outwards, her tongue retreating to lap instead at the wet fur of her smiling muzzle as she finally opened her eyes.

\tThe tigon glanced down between her thighs, reflex and training keeping the slave from meeting her gaze at first, until she remembered that she no longer had anything to lose, and her expression gained a hint of defiant pride as she stared firmly back up.  Reaching down to stroke gentle claws through the rodent’s headfur, Serra smiled back, “You are very good at that, I must agree.  A few, a very few, of my former lovers could claim equal skill... and only my own mother, the biggest slut in Fariach before she met my dad, ever made me feel better.  I suspect that you’ll be annoyingly popular in the afterlife, once word gets around, with never a free moment to yourself.  Hell, you may end up choosing to reincarnate just to get away from those clamoring for your attention!”

\tThe slave giggled, shaking her head, “Not for a few years, I hope...  Would you like some more, now, Mistress?”

\tSerra shook her head, still smiling, “No... I’ll get plenty more of that in my bedroom after dinner.  Just climb up on the table with your knees hanging off the edge, for now,” and she glanced to her companions, “and, if you don’t mind, could one of you go borrow a knife for me?  Folded steel, if they’ve got any, but as sharp as you can find regardless.  Any cut will hurt, but a fine edge will do less to distract her from my own efforts to return that recent favor.”

\tTo her mild surprise, both vulpines simply smirked, neither of them moving to rise, the male instead reaching between the chair and his back.  The dagger he drew there bore the trademark swirls on its six-inch blade, save for the very edge where it shone almost like a mirror, clearly sharp enough to shave off someone’s fur with, and he slid it across the table toward where the rodent was getting settled without a word.

\t“Goddess...” the cat swore softly.  “If the smith who made that is anywhere near here... I have got to get one like it.  I can’t remember ever lusting after a weapon this much, even though I know I can’t afford it myself, but I’m sure the ambassador will front me as many months’ pay as it takes, for a blade like that.”

\tThe noble shook his head with a chuckle, “It was made by my father back in Openheim, I’m sorry to say.  He’s the best smith in the holding, and it was the muscles and tone I developed assisting him that first caught the eye of the pretty young thing I ended up marrying.  Your job here at the embassy would almost certainly preclude traveling that far to get another for yourself... though, now that I think about it, I could get one easily enough in a few weeks by courier.  My da would skin me alive with the replacement if I just gave it away, though; he was never one to budge by a farthing from what he knew his blades were worth.  If you could come up with, say, thirty florins, or twenty Drachathian gold nobles I think it works out to, then I’d be happy to let you keep this one.  I know you’ll use it well.”

\tSerra winced a bit, “Literally worth more than its weight in gold... but that’s a more than fair price for a blade like this one.  I’ll see what I can do, and soon.  I’ll check in here every evening at about this time once I have the money, and for tonight you have my profound thanks for even temporary use of this little beauty.”  Even as the vulpines nodded at her sensible proposal, a whiff of fresh mouse-musk reached her nostrils, and she looked back to her lover to be greeted by the sight of a splayed, glistening sex.  Sparing only the briefest, smiling glance at the eyes watching hers between the teen’s nipples, she scooted her chair forward and leaned in.

\tThe slave let her eyes sink closed and her head roll back, her shiver of anticipation almost immediately stilled as the first touch of that broad, raspy tongue elicited a jerking twitch and a moaned squeak.  Her Mistress, obviously, recognized how worked-up and ready she was, so wasn’t bothering to start slow; instead, she lapped firmly up the length of her puffy petals, bristles stark against the sensitive flesh, the curve of her tongue just concave enough to both enfold those lips and miss the faint protrusion of her clit above, though the very tips of those rasps brushed her hood with each stroke.  Her fists clenching against the table top with each lick, the rodent’s squeaks evolved quickly into full-throated moans, and her first peak was upon her in barely over a minute.  Her eyes flew open even as she squealed; that lover was not slowing down to let her pleasure pass, instead choosing that moment to ease one slick finger into her ass with a firm thrust, even as two sharp teeth closed gently upon the core of her pleasure, pain battling with ecstasy as both seemed to suffuse her every nerve from the growing pressure of those two points, her climax somehow lengthened and made all the more intense by the sharpness of near-agony, her hips rising involuntarily to press eagerly back against that half-cruel assault.  Vision only grudgingly returned, another minute later; her eyes had been open the whole time, but unseeing as sensations of unprecedented intensity dominated her mind.  “M... Mistress!” she finally managed in a ragged gasp.  “That was... was...”

\tSerra paused from licking her muzzlefur as she grinned, the tip of one tooth faintly pink from where she’d finally broken the skin of that clit, her finger still caressing gently within the slave’s rectum, “I know, dear.  I learned that trick by having it used on me, after all.”

\tHalf-rising to one elbow, the mouse kept panting as she looked between her lover and the blade still sitting on the table next to her, “I... I don’t think anything still in store for my mortal life will be able to compare to how that felt.  That life...”  She swallowed once, then continued more firmly, “That life is yours, whenever you choose to take it.  I’m ready,” before relaxing back down.

\tThe tigon nodded as she stood, nudging her seat back with her legs, and withdrew her finger just enough to join it with a second, the pair twisting as she caught the slave’s hood in the web of her thumb.  “I thank you for your praise,” she rumbled with quiet honesty as her hand simply tensed and relaxed, a subtle massage that started her lover’s pleasure on its upward journey anew, though still blended with pain given her remaining sensitivity.  “Your life, however, is not mine,” and she took the hilt of that fine dagger in her free hand.  “It is Kathalla’s!”

\tThe mingled pleasure and discomfort at her groin was still growing as those words sank in, just as the first severe pain of the razor-sharp point piercing her skin made itself known... right above her heart.  With slow strength, the fine steel was pressed right through her breastbone, a gasped breath emerging as a protracted scream that was not entirely of agony, even as she felt the flutter of her own, racing heart against the cold metal.  Pain like none she’d ever known marked the final penetration, warmth filling her chest and a strange pressure squeezing her lungs as her lifeblood was released within her, and she managed a half-gurgled, “Yes!!!” as her vision started to dim.  Distantly, she could feel her sex and ass spasming against and around her Mistress’ paw, and she simply relished the flood of pure sensation for as long as her dwindling consciousness could hold onto it.

\tWhen those pert, perfect breasts finally stilled, Serra pulled the dagger free and wiped it clean on white fur before offering it back to its owner with a smile.  The fox’s gaze was respectful as he accepted and sheathed the blade, “I stand by everything I said, this night.  It was an unusual, stimulating, and gratifying experience to see you in action, and when you can afford it, this knife will see far better use than I’ve ever made of it.”

\t*That it will,* Kathalla’s voice reached the trio before Serra could do more than open her muzzle to reply.  She shut it with a snap as her Goddess continued, *Little Fran asked Me to relay her thanks.  Her death was everything she’d been promised, and more than she could ever believe, so she hopes her body satisfies when you turn it into meat.*

\tThe tigon chuckled, “Fran?  Good...  It’ll be nice to have a name to associate with this evening’s very pleasant memories.  Please tell her, my Goddess, that I’ll ask the kitchen to save her collar when they’ve cut off her head, and I’ll have her name engraved on it as I keep it as a memento forever.”

\t*I’ll let her know,* the Fanged One replied, *once I can get her attention.  Your last three sacrifices, as a group, have just found her, and are badgering her for any new tricks or techniques she might have learned at your hands, so it might be a while.*

\tAcross the table, the newest Kathallic shook her head with a laugh, looking over the corpse’s pain- and pleasure-wracked face once more, “And thus she’s gone... but only to us, and I have to envy the ‘life’ she now leads.”  Glancing up, she grinned, “It will take time and practice, my Goddess... but I’ll strive to live up to the wonderful example Your cat here provided.”

Chapter 5

\tElaria blinked as the last two members of her staff finally joined the rest, breakfast already halfway through for most, and frowned at the lingering scents they brought with them, “Pria and Serra... you two have got to stop treating this like a vacation, even in ‘private’ and outside of working hours.  What you do in your own quarters after dark is your own concern, but you two represent Lachier, in more ways than one!  Your play yesterday I could forgive since we’d only just arrived and hadn’t settled in, but showing up late this morning and smelling of sex is simply unacceptable; if this happens again, I’ll dock you half a month’s wages, and a third time will see you on a boat headed home, along with the melted metal and broken gems of your badges.  The king may have appointed you, but I do have the authority to fire you if you can’t maintain the dignity of your jobs.”

\tThe two teens shared an abashed glance, then nodded, Pria replying, “I... we’re sorry.  It’s just that this has felt like a vacation so far, with a little play-acting on the side.  I didn’t even know we got wages; the allowance still in my purse, I believed, was exactly that, which only added to the holiday mood.”

\tThe ambassador blinked with a bit of surprise herself, then nodded, her tone much gentler as she replied, “I guess we did rush up here a little too quickly to actually teach you otherwise...  My earlier warning still stands, but I’ll see to it that you both get a copy of the embassy guards’ code of conduct, as well as the pay you really should have gotten before we even set sail.  As Junior Agents, you make exactly half as much as an Agent trainee, which is to say three nobles a month for a stipend, and five nobles for mission funds when you’re deployed.”

\tBoth girls blinking a bit as well, Serra asked, “Could I get my eight nobles as twelve florins, though?  Along with my allowance, that puts me halfway to the price of a beautiful folded steel knife I met and used last night... and its current owner would probably be more comfortable if he didn’t fall under suspicion for having a large amount of foreign gold on him.”

\tSomewhat surprised by the change of subject, Elaria nodded again, “We can do that...  You imply that the blade in question is worth at least twenty nobles, so I’m curious to see it too.  Who’s selling it?”

\tThe tigon shrugged, smiling, “A nice gentleman fox, brother-in-law to a count, who shared my table at the club last night.  I think he’s a potential ally; he doesn’t want war either, and he approved when his wife converted to Kathallicism then and there, at Her suggestion and after the example I’d set.  And, yes, the knife’s worth it; my ‘test’ was a slow thrust through bone, that any lesser blade would have bent or broken under.”

\tThe ambassador nodded more slowly as she considered that, “Doubly an ally, then... as our Goddess would not have gone recruiting among a family likely to betray us.  Even if you were just there for some good, innocent fun,” and she grinned at the snorted laugh this elicited from several points around the table, “you did very well to make that kind of acquaintance.  If you see him again and he offers names or introductions for others disposed toward our political position, please, cultivate them and report to me afterwards.”

\t“Yes, ma’am,” came the reply, followed by a grin, “and I’m looking forward to it.  His wife, the actual noble by blood of the couple, is a vixen your age, and there was much licking of lips amidst heated looks on her part.  She obviously wants to sleep with me, and her husband’s far more amused than possessive over it.  He’s pretty good-looking, too, so I won’t object if they want to share me some evening.  I told them I’d start checking for them at the club nightly, once I’ve scrounged up the price of that knife.”

\tElaria nodded firmly, “Good.  Let’s give them two or three days just so nothing looks suspicious, then I’ll loan you the rest of the money myself.”  She glanced over for Ronnel, “For the rest of this morning... your suggestion, last night, turned out to have much merit, once I’d slept on it like I said I would.  After we’ve eaten, I’d like you to help me write that letter, and Pria can deliver it as soon as she’s bathed.”  At her sister’s questioning look, she continued, “It’s about those definitions I mentioned yesterday and the hard line I’ll be taking.  The situation’s actually even more complex than I first thought, with fewer real options, now that I realize that it’s a morally unjust act on the part of the government to conceal that information.  My oath of knighthood demands that I do something, but most ways of going about it would come across as a direct threat in Keesanrel’s eyes, and I’d rather at least start negotiations on a... marginally more amiable footing.  You just eat and wash up, and I’ll give you the details when I have them.”

\t“Yes, ma’am,” the wolf nodded obediently.

* * *

\tThe king was already frowning as he stepped into the small, private dining chamber rather than joining the noon meal he normally took with his court, and asked as soon as he’d settled into the chair across from his cousin, “Your note sounded fairly serious...  What is this about?”

\t“It’s about that suggestion of the councilor for the fifth district that you adopted so enthusiastically,” Tyron replied, “the one concerning keeping details of our treaty with Vivenge a secret.  I’d like you to think about that for a moment, not from the perspective of diplomacy and the ‘dirty tricks’ that tend to go without comment therein, but from the standpoint of basic justice.  Would you, or would you not, call that policy completely ‘just?’”

\tKeesanrel’s frown deepened as he considered, then shrugged, “Well, no, to be completely honest it’s not.  It’s justifiable, on the principle of confidentiality, but the advantage it gives us in being able to customize other treaties in our favor is... a bit unfair, I’ll admit.  Still, just like you said, it’s the next best thing to ‘business as usual’ on the international level, so I wasn’t planning to change that policy any time soon.”  Toward the end of his reply, the king pulled his plate closer and started loading it with a few choice tidbits from the dishes between the two cougars; morning court had run a bit over its usual time, from various courtiers consulting with the recent addition to their number, asking about Lachier’s position on sundry matters of trade that meant something to the families they represented.

\tNodding as he helped pour the wine, the wizard elaborated, “Well, I got a letter this morning that cast the situation in a new light.  Not ‘new’ chronologically, but rather a point of view that had always existed but could cause a great deal of trouble if it were pointed out to others.  You see, Malia’s entire chivalric order is sworn to justice, and if one of Her knights realizes that you’re enforcing an unjust policy, they will have literally no choice but to confront you about it.  In fact, one such knight already has noticed, and for that same sense of justice she’s giving you a fair chance to change your mind on your own.”

\tHis cousin blinked, swallowed the bite he’d been chewing, and scowled fiercely, “She?  I have a shrewd notion of just which ‘knight’ you’re talking about, and she’s in no position to make demands!  I still have veto power on the question list for any meeting, and I’m not going to throw away this useful a diplomatic weapon.  Unless she wants to make a fool of herself by bringing it up when it’s not on any schedule, or be deported for spreading the word in public, she’ll just have to accept our position and like it!”

\tTrying not to sigh, Tyron shook his head, “She can’t let it lie, your Majesty!  Her oath of knighthood predates this post by nearly a decade, and supersedes her secular oath of office.  Yes, just to make sure we’re all on the same page, I am talking about Dame Elaria, and the letter her sister delivered was written on sovereign ground and dispatched under her personal seal, not her official one, as is entirely proper.  She can, and there are no grounds for objection here, send another just as easily... to the temple in town, to other churches elsewhere... or to the second-in-command of your palace guard, who took the same oath that she did.  She’s trying to give you a graceful way out, but if you choose to ignore it, you’d better quadruple the troops you keep around you, as every Maliite knight in four nations will be dropping by to convince you otherwise, at sword-point if needed.  You may have told your herald to strip her of every title he could get away with, but you can’t pretend that the other ones don’t exist; if she cares to exert it, in her own way she has more power and influence than you do.  She’s made no threats and broken no laws, but she’s also not going to betray a Goddess just because you’re feeling put-upon.”

\tThe juicy, flavorful chicken in his muzzle seemed bland and too dry to swallow, of a sudden, but the king forced it down anyway, “Then how do we respond?  I’ve always known you were brighter than me, Ty, which is why I value your advice...  Do we discredit her?  Restrict her personal communications?  Ask for a different ambassador?  There’s got to be a way we can do this without just giving in like spineless cowards and handing them the treaty I told the empire’s man would stay safe.”

\t“The point that I’ve been trying to get across,” the younger cat sighed, “is that we can’t win this one.  She hasn’t asked for a copy of the treaty, just a list of terms and definitions that are changed therein, or in other words that we give up the ‘weapon’ that you yourself know is unfair and unjust.  Any other option... would see you dead within a fortnight, and it will almost certainly be the hand of an Atherian which kills you, one who’s never even met anyone from Drachath.  There is no conspiracy, merely a factual situation that a certain segment of our population would be obligated to do something about.”  More gently, he urged, “Please... just give her the list.  She’s willing to keep this entire discussion out of the public record, so you won’t lose a single scrap of face over it... but if you don’t, your reputation or that of the kingdom will be among the least of your concerns.”

\tKeesanrel pushed his plate away, his fierce appetite having vanished and the few bites he’d managed sitting like lead in his stomach.  “Tyron...” he finally murmured, staring down at the hands clenched in his lap, “is it really that bad?  Are there any options for me other than humiliation, however personal and discreet, or death?”

\tThe wizard shook his head sadly, “Not really... unless you want to denounce all current treaties, abandon hope for any others in the future, purge the devout from your guard and army entirely, and spend the rest of your life maintaining martial law and watching for assassins.  That, I’m afraid, is the only third option I can come up with, and it would do none of us any good.”

\tHis cousin, friend, and advisor could see just how hard it was to admit any sort of defeat, but the older man finally sighed and muttered, “Give her the list.  I’m not hungry anymore,” before rising, picking up his wineglass, and making his way out.

* * *

\tElaria shot a pleased smile over toward the two girls joining the rest of the embassy staff for dinner, on time and in proper uniform.  It seemed that the one warning had been plenty.  “This afternoon’s meeting went pretty much as expected,” she told her aide as servants started carrying in steaming dishes.  “The city’s baron, though he seems to prefer the title ‘mayor’ despite it being hereditary, and I simply stated our ‘positions’ for the record.”  She grimaced a bit, “As important as it was, diplomatically, I privately felt like we were wasting our breath on both sides.  I read that speech I’d been given about our two nations’ long history as if we’d always been bosom buddies, pretended we’d never had a war, and expressed my desire for a non-aggression pact and possible trade-related treaties as if they were completely new ideas, then he waxed eloquent on the same topics, in damned near the same words.  As expected, no mention at all was made of the list Tyron gave me after lunch.”

\tThe mink nodded, “No surprises, then, except for how you managed to get that list so quickly.  The next step on the mayor’s part, assuming he follows previous patterns, is at least two days of ‘consulting with his government.’  Meanwhile, our legal staff,” and he nodded toward that quarter of the table, “is studying the new definitions intently, and playing with phrasings to see if any of the new terms are particularly tricky when two or three of them are in the same sentence.  They’re also writing a duplicate of our last treaty, with just a few substitutions now that we’re all speaking the same language, on the off chance they try to surprise us with an immediate request for a formal proposal, and that should be done by tonight, but the complete analysis of all ramifications of the new terms will take at least a few days.”

\tHis boss nodded back, “Good, then the day hasn’t been wasted.  I’ll ‘consult’ as well, just summarizing our progress to date, or lack thereof, back to the capitol tomorrow morning.  That list is, indeed, progress, so I should let them—wait, what’s that sound?”

\tThe bottom-most crystal of the dining room’s chandelier was casting a red glow of its own atop its usual gleam, and a sustained, crystalline chime was growing in volume.  The aide frowned, “That’s the embassy defenses, telling us someone is trying to push a remote sensory perception spell through our wards.  They probably won’t succeed, and with this warning we’re not about to continue discussing sensitive business.”

\tElaria nodded sharply, and barked across the table, “Pria!  Find them!”

\tThe wolf was already out of her seat and running for the hall, pulling a ‘decorative’ curtain aside and scrambling up the ladder it hid.  More magic made her fur stand on end as she passed into the tiny, windowed turret sticking out of the roof, but that was the border of the defenses; without them in the way to block her own mage-sight, she peered intently around...  Soldiers were already boiling out of the main building and up the stairs to the wall’s battlements, some still struggling to don pieces of armor; the alarm in the dining room wasn’t the only one that had gone off.  They could not, though, see the faint trace of magic she’d spotted, so she opened one of the windows and yelled, “Archers!  Target!” then pointed at an unlit window across the street, a bright line of harmless light-magic sent toward it the next instant.

\tThe half-dozen troops with bows immediately followed her signal, and six arrows tipped with broad, man-killing war heads shattered the glass almost as one, the traces of the spying spell vanishing immediately as the mage was either struck or just startled out of their concentration.  A heavy armor squad marched out of the gate toward the same building, swords drawn, and Pria let herself relax, only then noticing the pounding of her own heart.  This had been exactly what her father had trained her for, magically; she’d never have his sheer power, but he’d done his best to teach her the subtleties of using what she had effectively... only, this time it had been real.  The soldiers would handle the pursuit and arrest, she knew, so she closed her eyes, slowing her breathing and willing the trembling in her hands to still, then carefully made her way back down the cupola’s ladder.

\tHer sister was waiting at the bottom, and nodded, “You found them.”  Since the chandelier wasn’t screaming anymore, it wasn’t a question.

\tPria swallowed hard as she nodded back, “Just across the street...  Line-magic, as our courtyard’s a bit too broad for a remote-point projection, at least for anyone weaker than an archmage or a large, coordinated group.  The troops are raiding the building now, to see who the archers shot or surprised.”

\tRecognizing the signs, the vixen stepped closer to pull her sibling into a tight hug, murmuring, “Shh... it’s over, and you did great.  I know exactly what you’re feeling, as I did a decade ago in Winter Wreath.  Your first real fight is always the hardest... but remember, you didn’t freeze up or balk, and you did do every last inch of your duty.”  She kissed the girl’s gray cheekruff, “Thank you!”

\tBehind them, the mustelid aide asked, “Now that things are settled, or will be once our guards finish investigating, how would you like to respond, Ambassador?  This counts as an attack on the embassy, as our information is considered as diplomatically ‘sacred’ as our lives or property.”

\tReleasing the wolf whose pulse had finally returned to normal, Elaria grimaced, “This was pretty damned feeble and ineffective for an ‘attack,’ Meviran...  It was stopped roughly forty seconds after the first hint of an alarm.  Issue a protest for the ‘indignity of the assault,’ but have our most junior legal writer do it, and give it to the couriers with the usual morning mail unless some idiot on the other side tries protesting property damage or injury sooner.  Also, offer to pay the building owner for their window repairs, and take the money from the embassy maintenance budget.  Unless someone forces the issue, I want to treat this whole thing as an incident so minor as to be beneath my official persona’s notice.”

\tThe mink was definitely starting to like his new boss’ style, and hid a smile behind his usual formal expression as he bowed, “As you wish, Ambassador.”

\tBack to Pria, she continued, “Let’s go downstairs and see who or what the guards drag back.  Depending on who they turn out to be, and their connections, I may have to change my mind on how to handle this.”

* * *

\tThe embassy’s healer was in attendance as two guards carried their prisoner into one of the small meeting rooms on the ground floor.  Pria raised a hand in offering, and he nodded, letting her step up and grip his shoulder to start feeding him energy.  The canid in his early twenties that the guards laid down on the table had been struck twice on the same arm, wrist and elbow joints shattered and bleeding badly.  That bleeding was already slowing as the healer worked, but he glanced up to comment, “I’m not going to be able to save the arm.  These sorts of injuries have to be treated very soon or the ligaments will never work again, and we’d need more healers and more mages to do it fast enough.  I’ll need a blade, the sharper the better.”

\tNodding, Elaria drew one of the swords she never took off except for bed, “I’ll do it.  Above or below the elbow?”

\tFishing a short leather thong out of his robe’s pocket, the medic tied it off just above the broken joint and answered, “Right below that, but give me a moment to fuse his bicep or it’ll be slithering around loose.  Can’t save that tendon either, I’m afraid.”  His eyes closed as he concentrated anew, even as he straightened the arm out along the table... and at his quiet, “Now,” the tip of that sword flashed down, cleaving through flesh and bone to wedge itself half an inch deep in the wood.

\tThe half-conscious dog screamed, and the healer’s hand moved to his forehead, forcing his mind down into sleep.

\t“He needs rest,” the doctor mused as he stood.  “I know you’ll want to question him, but shock and blood loss would make that difficult.  You’d get few answers if any before he died...  If you can wait six hours, though, he’ll be in much better shape.”

\tElaria nodded as she finished cleaning her sword, and sheathed it.  “He can have the whole night, for all I care.  On my authority, he stands convicted of attempted espionage against Drachathian territory, and he won’t be leaving any time soon.  Take good care of him, and someone can talk to him after breakfast.”  She glanced to the senior of the two guards still present, “Once his stump’s bandaged, search his clothes and the room he was in, and deliver anything significant to my suite in the morning.  For tonight, put him in the guest room with the barred windows and the lock on the outside; he hasn’t, yet, earned the discomfort of our basement cell.  Naturally enough, under no circumstances is he permitted outside of our walls and legal territory.”

\t“Understood, ma’am,” the stocky wolf nodded.

\tBack in the dining room, half-empty as those not directly involved in the emergency had finished their meal, the ambassador resumed her seat at the head of the table, grimacing a bit at the cooled and congealed gravy around her sliced beef.  “I’ve had worse,” she muttered, and dug in anyway.

\tAfter a shared glance with Serra, Ronnel asked, “Is there anything we should know about?  Matters are, at least to some degree, obviously settled now that you’re back, but we can’t help being curious.”

\tHis vixen swallowed and smiled warmly, “Nothing yet...  We have one prisoner, who was injured fairly severely, but he’ll live.  Questioning him and his possessions can wait ‘til morning.  Until then, you know as much as I do.”  Tilting her head as she gathered another bite on her fork, she mused with a glance to the wolf who was also retaking her seat, “We have the rest of the night to ourselves... but I’d like to invite my sister to join us, love, as both reward for her actions and comfort for their slight trauma.”

\tTheir tigon friend looked a bit disappointed at her implied exclusion, but shrugged with a resigned smile, “You folks are a family...  I’ll find some way to keep myself occupied tonight.”

\tRonnel nodded with a soft chuckle, “Indeed we are... but perhaps we can work something out that includes you, some other eve.  We only met you a week or so ago, after all.  Just be patient, kitten.”

Chapter 6

\tElaria paused at the door to her ‘honor guard’s quarters, hand raised to knock, when she heard a muffled squeal, followed by a breathy moan.  Officially, she had to disapprove... but it was the girls’ lunch break, and it certainly sounded like eating was going on.  Of a sort.  Chuckling to herself, she knocked anyway and called, “It’s me.”

\t“Come... come in!”

\tOpening the door just enough to quickly slip inside, before any sounds or scents could escape, the vixen shut it again and had to smile at the sight of her sister, on the bed with her armor-skirt inverted and a pair of feline ears poking up between her thighs.  “One more peak, kids, then I’ve got a job for you,” she told them around a grin as she took a seat.

\tPria looked a bit disappointed at that, but only until Serra’s next lick, the bitch’s head lolling back with a groan.  She’d been fairly close before the interruption, and the brief break from stimulation was somehow making the renewal even more enjoyable; she closed her eyes to better enjoy the sparks behind them as that raspy tongue delved deep, pressing hard against the upper reaches of her passage as it withdrew, even as the short fur of the tigon’s lips teased and titillated around her hood.  Three more such long, deep caresses were offered, her spine arching and her breasts quivering atop her chest as tension rose, and her breath caught as the tongue withdrew entirely, lips closing gently around the core of her pleasure and just suckling, flesh against flesh with no rasps or even furs between... and she was there!  The watching vixen mentally blessed the building’s thick walls and well-made windows, knowing that that howl of pure lust wouldn’t travel far, her own loins twitching in sympathy as she watched her sister’s pleasure-wracked face.

\tTo Elaria’s surprise, at least, as soon as the girls had parted and passed a towel around, a quick, simple wipe left both thighs and muzzle completely dry and clean.  While this certainly meant she wouldn’t have to chastise either one for their grooming, she couldn’t think of how it was physically possible, and she looked a question at the pair...

\t“Magic,” Pria answered with a grin, still panting faintly, “and you’re probably wondering how I maintained my concentration to keep even a weak physical shield around our fur...  Frankly, I didn’t.  It’s something Daddy and I worked out; just like a stone, the very air can hold an enchantment, if not for nearly as long, and the power and focus were just left floating around while we played.”

\tNodding, the vixen got to the point that had brought her here, “Hopefully it didn’t take enough energy to tire you out, because tonight you two have a mission.”  Both Agents’ expressions immediately grew serious, and she continued, “The man we caught last night carried no identification and gave us a false name, and his description wasn’t in any of our records as he’s an extremely small fish in the local power structures...  He also had the sense not to write down any names; the paper he’d prepared to transcribe our private conversations onto, had his spell made it past the wards, was addressed only to ‘my lord.’  He made one, tiny slip, though, and gave his real name to the owner of the rental offices across the street, and I had the sergeant who paid for the broken window do his math ‘wrong’ when converting national currencies, giving him Drachathian coin worth just over twice the Atherian price requested, the result of adding fifty percent twice.  That owner, just as accidentally, let his tenant’s name slip, with good excuses in place should anyone try to charge him with accepting foreign bribes.  We’re officially accepting the false name, and will be releasing our prisoner to local authorities after one more day of holding him on medical grounds, but we do know that he’s the apprentice of the house mage of Lophiel, councilor for the fifth district.  His real name, at least, was in the files on the local political elite, included as a matter of principle.”

\tSerra lifted a hand and, at her boss’ raised brow, asked, “What’s with these ‘districts,’ anyway?  It sounds like something you’d see in a republic, not a monarchy...”

\t“It’s not just their international relations that have been occasionally iffy, here in Atheria,” the ambassador replied.  “A couple centuries back, the representatives of the eight duchies got into a bit more plotting than the crown really liked... so the king at the time pulled a fast one in return.  Ostensibly for efficiency, he divided the capitol itself into eight districts and put the ducal representatives in charge of administrating them.  Keeping an eye on their families’ interests had left them with entirely too much time for scheming, which these new duties cut into enough that the crown was able to keep control, while the families themselves initially saw only the small percentage of tax revenues they’d be getting to keep, and jumped at the chance for ‘free money.’  These days, those administrators make up the king’s advisory council along with the baron who officially runs the city, and have voting rights on any new law or policy issue, but the king himself keeps two votes, and the right to appoint anyone, and any number of anyones, as additional council members.  Naturally enough, those councilors owing their positions to his patronage means that, on any important vote, Keesanrel will almost automatically get his own way.”

\tPria snorted, “Sounds like a typical noble’s definition of a ‘balance of power.’  As in, nothing of the sort.”

\tElaria shrugged, “Hey, he is the king, and things work about the same with our own Lachier, just not as... tangled.  In any case, as this system applies to our current situation, the fifth district belongs to the Duchy of Urenhold, in the far northeast of the country.  They have a great deal of trade with Vivenge, by land and sea alike, and most of the family was from that empire as of two generations ago.  They’d be the least affected by a war between our nations in terms of impacting local economies and workforces, and they’ve got enough fingers in the arms trade to actually profit from it.  Thus, your mission tonight will be to break into Lophiel’s manor house office if you can.  We’ve got a waxing moon, but it’s barely a quarter strong at the moment, and it should be fairly overcast... practically perfect conditions.  Make it look like a burglary, meaning I want you to take anything that looks valuable, but your main goal is to look for anything that looks like secure documents.  Locked drawers or any sort of strongbox; if steps have been taken to protect something, we want it.  If we can find proof of a conflict of interest, anything that clearly benefits Vivenge more than Atheria, it could prove very useful when and if our other negotiations hit a snag.”

\tHer sister nodded, “I understand.  There will probably be defenses in place, but I’m guessing that our biggest priority is to not get caught, so I’ll do my best but call things off if there’s no way through ‘em.”

\t“Exactly.  We’d like to prove that they’re working against the king, but we can’t afford to face the same charge, so you two be damned careful.  Your lives and our king’s negotiating position are both more important than that proof you’re after.”  At two more solemn nods, she smiled, “Now, you two go talk to Jayrel, that ‘corporal’ who has his own office near the barracks.  He’s actually a colonel by rank, and in charge of our local covert operations, so he can get you some dark clothes with plenty of pockets.”

\t“Among other things,” Serra added.  “Maps would be nice, as we haven’t exactly had time to explore the city.”

\tElaria nodded, “I’m sure he’ll have everything ready in time, since he presided over the interrogation this morning and we discussed your mission before I came here.  Now, you two catch a nap at some point, as your target is known to be up working ‘til midnight or later with his various duties, so you’ll need to visit even later, and even Diral’s tea isn’t enough this time.”

* * *

\tThe maps ‘Corporal’ Jayrel had provided for their study had amazed both young ladies, since they were far more than just diagrams of the city streets.  They’d also been marked with patrol routes of the city guard, color-coded for frequency over various times of day and night, and even the street lamps and their effective ranges were noted, so they’d been able to choose those alleys which offered the best concealment, and when one patrolman passed, they knew exactly how long they had before the next.  For being in a strange city, and risking arrest simply for being out of the district they had any official business in, it was remarkably easy to get as far as the brick wall surrounding the manor house, and they crept through the narrow band of shadow left by the lanterns mounted along the guards’ walkway.  Not far from the wing that was their goal, teeth shone briefly in the darkness in a shared grin as they both heard...  Instead of the steady, booted tread of an alert sentry, faint snores came from directly above them, and they wasted no time in scrambling up the wall and over, past the slumbering form that would probably have some very hard questions to answer the next morning.

\tCloser to the building proper, Serra let her friend take the lead, as this was the part where they were most likely to run into hostile magic.  She had to admire the way the young wolf moved; she eased smoothly into each motion, never jerking from stillness to speed in a way that would catch the eye, even a cat’s night vision only barely able to keep track of her at close range.  The guards along the wall came within four yards of the balcony they were aiming for, but at that range they’d have to know exactly what they were looking for to spot either of the dark-clad figures.

\tThe duo crouching to either side of that balcony’s door, Pria breathed softly, “Idiots...  This is one of the better alarm wards I’ve ever seen, but it only works on mundane tools or portable magic devices used by a non-mage.  The field’s a perfect plane, and anything going through it would set it off, but it’s linked to the latch to turn it off, and there’s nothing to block a remote projection.  Even I can manage six inches and a line from within!  Spot for me, please?”

\t“Alright,” the tigon nodded in the darkness, “but double-check!  There could be a backup that senses any change in magical ambiance inside, and your remote line could trigger something like that.”

\tEven as she turned to watch the sentries, she heard a soft gasp, “Shit!  You’re right!  Gonna have to push and pull at the same time, that spell looks sensitive... but it stops just before the door, just so the alarms won’t set each other off.”

\tTwo guards were marching directly away, and it was a third’s turn to peer intently out into the night, so Serra hissed, “Now!” and kept even closer watch in case a head turned unexpectedly... but the situation held for the long moment it took, a faint click and a quick tug on her sleeve telling her when to turn and slip through the barely-open door.

\t“Latch it,” Pria instructed, “as at least one of those guards is carrying something magical.  If it’s a simple detector that he uses to periodically check that the wards are up, we’re screwed as long as this one’s down.”  The cat nodded as she fastened the latch, feeling the faint hum as the arcane defenses were restored, and ducked to one side, out of view from the door’s glass to wait patiently.  Peering around the utter blackness, the wolf murmured, “Right wall, middle, four feet up, there’s a hollow behind a painting with a steel box, locked, no spells.  Lower left desk drawer, it’s got a signature-stone lock.  Front half of the drawer has papers, back half has another locked box, smallish and warded.  Both top drawers have dense metal and hints of crystal, looks like coins and jewelry.”

\tNodding as she moved to carefully, silently lift down the painting, Serra whispered, “I’ll pick this.  Can you bypass the other lock?”

\tA barely-audible chuckle floated through the air, “No, but someone got ripped off on this desk.  The top and drawer-fronts are oak, I can tell just from the scent, but the frame’s cunningly-stained pine.  We’ll save that for last in case someone’s got sharp ears; I can break it fairly quietly, but that ambiance-spell won’t let me muffle it.”

\tSerra laughed quietly to herself, even as she slipped her tension bar into the lock and started probing for tumblers with the pick in her other hand, “Good plan.  Remember our cover, and just empty those top drawers into your pockets while I work.”

\tThe lock finally clicked and turned under her touch, and she cupped the back of the lid to better control her lift, the motion needing to be smooth and angle-neutral when her nose was certain that the hinges hadn’t been oiled recently.  Her fingertips reported several bundles of parchment and a folder of loose sheets, each quietly slipped into a black bag, then her eyes widened at the feel of several long, smooth metal bars, slightly heavier for their size than even gold when she carefully lifted one free.  She couldn’t be certain until she got them back to where she could examine them in good light, but it certainly felt like it was a small fortune in platinum that she was lifting out piece by piece, slipping the bars into individually padded pockets inside her shirt.  Pulling the drawstring closed on the bag of documents, she slung it over her shoulder and turned toward her accomplice to whisper, “Done here.”

\t“I got a purse out of one drawer, but the rest turned out to be badges awaiting signature spells, nothing better than semiprecious stones and thin gilding,” Pria reported, disgust audible in her tone.  “Open another bag and hold it for me...  Assume someone hears and that we have less than a minute after I break the lock; I’ll load the papers as quickly as I can, and we’ll take the second box whole to deal with at our leisure, somewhere that setting off its alarm won’t matter.  I’ll need to pour some power into the air as we leave, as much as is in the spell that’s leaving with us, and that will be fairly tricky, but it shouldn’t dissipate enough to register for at least an hour.”

\tThe tigon nodded in the dark, “Bag’s ready, just under the desk’s top.  I can see the nearest guard from here, just about to turn... there!  Now or never, lover!”

* * *

\tSerra’s breath and heartbeat finally slowed to normal as she closed the trapdoor in her shared room from the escape tunnel they’d come home through, “Whew...  That wasn’t my first break-in, but I was usually only after a document or two.  Two bags of paper and parchment and those heavy bars I found add up, when I have to sneak several miles with them.”

\t“This iron box wasn’t exactly light, either,” Pria agreed.  “I’m glad we were on our way out so I could use those knock-out darts.  They’re light, and easy to levitate through a gap in someone’s armor, but you’ve only got a few minutes before someone notices that half the sentries aren’t moving anymore, so they’re useless on the way in.”  Setting the box aside, she sat down on the bed and asked, looking curious, “And ‘bars?’  What did you find in that box?”

\tThe feline joined her and reached into her shirt, pulling one of her prizes out to finally look at, “Can you test this for me?  I know what it looks like, but...”

\tHer own eyes wide, Pria nodded and held her hand over the metal, a visible glow extending slowly as a line that touched then penetrated the bar, and she hissed, “Damn!  It’s pure alright.  This energy mix is blocked by lead, and it’s not even dimming!  That has to be a solid pound, right there.”

\tThe tigon shook her head in wonder, “And there were twelve of the things!  By my math, that’s four hundred and eighty gold nobles worth!”  She frowned, “There’s no way I can break this into smaller change without suspicion...  For this moment, I’m filthy rich, and can’t do a damned thing with it!”

\tHer lover grinned, “You can’t, but I’m sure either Elaria or Jayrel can figure something out.  The documents that were in the same box, though... there’s a good chance they’ll explain just how Lophiel came to have those bars, and that kind of thing is exactly the information we were after.  We did pretty good, tonight... and, before I forget, I wanted to thank you for helping me find the second alarm.  I honestly hadn’t even thought to look for that sort of thing.”

\tSerra shrugged, a wry smile on her muzzle, “I ran afoul of one a lot like it, once.  My first couple jobs like this in Stonecliff, I had a magical lockpick, but the third time I used it I barely escaped when it triggered a raucous screech.  I’d checked the lock itself with another gadget, but that sort of detector doesn’t have to be immediately nearby.  The experience as a whole was my cue to buckle down and learn to open things the hard way.”  Her smile softening, she added, “And thank you for everything you did...  My techniques would never have gotten us past the balcony door, and being able to find everything that was locked, hidden, or warded saved a great deal of potentially noisy searching.  All other things being equal, time is a thief’s greatest enemy, and getting in and out, fast, with exactly the right loot, was invaluable.”

\tThe wolfess’ nod was interrupted by a sudden yawn, ending in a snap as she shut her muzzle, blinking...  “Guess our afternoon nap’s worn off,” she mused.  “Just in case there’s something in place that’ll let them track this box, I’m going to run downstairs and use the short-range spellbreaker they keep for expiring official document seals, then we can get a bit more sleep.  We’ll have to be up and normal-looking in time for morning court; once a break-in someplace that potentially sensitive is reported, the absence of someone like us would become very noteworthy.”

\tHer friend gave a comic grimace, “Guess we’ll actually have to sleep, for once.  Oh well, there’s always tomorrow night.”

* * *

\tOnce the sun had come up, and as the girls joined the rest of the staff for breakfast, Elaria told them with a grin, “I don’t know any of the specifics, yet... but Jayrel was practically drooling over some of the documents you brought back.  I eagerly await his report, as you evidently managed to collect some very, very juicy secrets that had been so carelessly laying around.”  She pointed at a teapot near their seats, “Have some of that, for now.  It’s a special blend that should keep you from looking like you were up half the night.”

\tPria snorted as she poured herself and her friend some of the indicated tea, “Hardly just ‘laying around’...  That place was damned tight.  It took both my magic and Serra’s longer experience; anyone else would never have made it through the door, and even if they managed that, that little purse was all they’d have been safe stealing.  Attempting to move any of the rest would have gotten them caught, easily, after the fact.”

\tThe vixen nodded soberly, “I fired up the tiny gate we’re allowed, mainly meant for obtaining royal signatures quickly, and sent the whole pile of platinum to Fariach, as selling it here would be the next best thing to suicide, as you say.”  She glanced to the other Agent, “I know you didn’t get your hopes up... but I’ve got good news anyway.  A solid half of the bars’ fair value, in unremarkable Drachathian coin, will be coming in the next diplomatic pouch, and every last farthing is yours to split with your accomplice.  That’s actually even more fair than it sounds, since most of what you’re not getting, you’d have to pay anyway in income tax on a fortune like that, and that’s exactly how Lachier’s treasurer will treat it.”

\tSerra nodded, blinking at her unexpected good fortune, “I guess I’ll be able to pay you back for that knife I’m buying!”

\tBlinking a bit herself, the wolf beside her added, “If we’re splitting things, then I guess I should do the same with that purse.  I only glanced through it to check for anything unusual, but it was just gold and silver, perhaps thirty or forty local monarchs and florins and as many silver pennies and marks.”

\t“Maybe not a fortune, but still pretty damned good for a night’s work,” one of the legal staff chuckled across the table, and several staffers grinned as the food was carried in.

\tThe meal nearly over, and thoughts of the day’s routine prominent on many expressions, one of the on-duty guards slipped in, padding up between the ambassador and her aide to murmur a quiet report.  Both senior staffers looked a bit startled at whatever he’d told them, but Elaria’s eyes grew thoughtful, then determined as she nodded to herself.  “Serra and Pria, get your swords, then join Meviran and me downstairs.  Just for your usual honor guard roles; I don’t think you’re in trouble yet.”  She smiled faintly at the way they relaxed at that clarification.  “Tyron, the court wizard, is requesting entrance to the grounds, but accompanied by only one guard for his own protection and the dignity of his station.  They’d have brought far more if they were going to try to extradite someone by force.  As the one member of the king’s council who’s most actively spiritual, trying to keep them from stepping too hard on various churches’ toes, I’m inclined to bend the rules where he’s concerned, and grant him a relatively private meeting on our territory.”

\tThe girls weren’t the only ones who needed a quick adjustment of their accessories, as the ambassador attended private meals in just the light armor she normally wore under her more formal robes with the sword-slits in the back, but it took less than ten minutes for everyone to finish their meal, complete their official attire, and gather in a meeting room almost identical to the one commandeered as a field surgery a day and a half earlier.

\tTyron was already seated, his guard standing at parade rest against the wall behind him, and Elaria’s companions took up identical stances to either side of the door as she seated herself and nodded across the small table, “Good morning.  Of those who I’ve met so far at court, you seem the least addicted to formality for its own sake, so why don’t we skip all that nonsense and get right to the reason for your visit?”

\tThe cougar chuckled despite himself, and nodded back, “Alright, and thank you.  I’m afraid I’ll have to start a bit slowly, as the situation’s somewhat muddled and no one seems to have the whole story, so I’ll have to get another piece or two from you before I know just what to ask, or even whether to ask anything else.  It’s an obvious assumption that you questioned that purported spy you sent a protest about, yesterday morning.  Have you determined his identity, and did he tell you anything useful?”

\tElaria shook her head, “Not really...  He’s obviously a fairly decent mage, though he just as obviously overestimated his own skill when it comes to sneaking through defensive wards.  He could even be called ‘harmless,’ as seen after the fact, but when the alarms go off, restraint is not the first option, so he was fairly seriously injured by our guards’ immediate response.  Despite immediate medical attention once he was in custody, he lost his left arm above the elbow, which he frequently mentioned as a reason not to cooperate, so all we know is that he’s a mixed-breed canine, collie being the most distinctive aspect of his features, and that the name he reluctantly gave us was Arkerel.  We’d been planning to hand him over to the local constables for trial, later this very morning.”

\tThe wizard shook his head, grimacing, “Sounds like Kerelar, alright.”  At the curiously-tilted head across the table, he shrugged, “That’s his real name, I’m fairly certain, and he’s always thought himself far more clever than he really is.  Anyone truly clever would have known better than to try to breach an embassy’s magical defenses undetected, and giving a false name that’s a twist of his own, so he can claim a slip of the tongue rather than a lie, is also just the sort of hare-brained idea he’d come up with.  Regarding his injuries, he’s damned lucky just to be alive, and I’ll be making sure he knows it once he’s released, on his way to the local gaol.  Assaulting your sovereign soil was arguably an act of war, and a quick and lethal response was entirely warranted, which I’ll remind the king of if I have to.”  At the ambassador’s nod, he shifted the subject slightly, “His identity... is related to some other events last night, at least peripherally, because he’s the apprentice to the house wizard of one of our council representatives.  That councilor... is now dead, apparently by his own hand.  His office was burglarized during the night, a great deal of money and a number of documents taken, and the story I was told of his reaction to the news was... disturbing.  He personally inspected the scene of the crime, observers reporting him as ‘unnaturally calm,’ then returned to his chambers.  He gently dismissed the whore who’d shared his bed the night before, closed and locked the door, and a few minutes later his guards heard a brief exclamation of pain through it, then no response when they knocked.  When they finally broke the door down, he was sitting on his bed, slumped over the dagger he’d driven into his own heart, with no evidence of anyone else having been present.  Morning court is canceled today while our investigators look into things, but I strongly doubt they’ll find anything.  I inspected his defenses myself in an attempt to determine how they’d been breached, and his house wizard is very nearly as good as I am; I can’t think of how anyone got through them without setting off an alarm in the first place, so anyone that skilled wouldn’t have left anything more than a fur or two behind, and the office has far too many visitors over the course of its regular business to catch them that way.”

\tEyes artfully wide, the vixen shook her head in apparent wonder, “It can’t have been the loss of the money that triggered his reaction...  Even if, for some reason, he’d kept the bulk of his liquid assets in that particular room, councilors aren’t known for being poor.  Just selling a painting or two from elsewhere in the house would keep his estate running until whatever source of income he enjoyed paid its next dividend.”  She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, “It has to be those documents you mentioned...  The obvious inference has to be that, in the hands of a rival or such, they contained information that would be so damaging that suicide was the preferable option.”

\tTyron nodded again, “That, I’m afraid, is my own conclusion as well.  He was known as one of the king’s strongest supporters for...” and he coughed delicately, “an ‘unpopular policy’ that happens to directly relate to you and your mission here, and his family connections are... mildly suspect in several related ways.  This entire situation could still be one huge coincidence, some master thief incidentally looting a strongbox the day after a somewhat distant association with illegal espionage comes to light, but we can’t assume anything.  As at least some aspects of this mystery are of concern to your embassy and its legitimate security concerns, I’ll be doing my best to keep you informed, at least of any detail that doesn’t directly impact my nation’s security.”

\tA new thought had oozed into Elaria’s mind as he spoke, and she considered it carefully, rolling the idea around, watching it, tasting it... and she found it good.  Even as she reached up to her neck and started pulling off necklaces, she mused in a thoughtful tone, “I think... I’ve just gotten the sort of nudge that, as a priestess rather than ambassador, it’s my duty to listen to and follow up on.  Our formal meeting is at an end.  There is more I would like to discuss, though, that you will very much want to hear, but it has to be entirely off of the official record.  Can you tolerate that?  It’s technically a deception, I know, but it will be worth it.”

\tThe cougar’s eyes were wide as she set aside her Kathallic and Roxanite pendants, and even the large, gold casting of the royal crest of Drachath, leaving only the face of Malia looking out from the backdrop of her blade dancer amulet.  Without warning, he turned in his seat and gestured, his guard’s features stiffening and his eyes locking onto nothingness.  “Priestess,” he murmured respectfully as he turned back, “you have my undivided attention, and that spell also wiped the last minute or so of this man’s memory.  He’ll simply think he wasn’t paying attention for a moment, when I release him from it.”

\tNodding in return, she glanced over her shoulder, “Serra, go visit the ‘corporal’ and bring back the most damning thing he’s got.”  As the tigon simply blinked once then hurried to comply, she smiled to the wizard, “We already knew Kerelar’s name, thanks to a well-placed bribe, and, yes, we knew he worked for Lophiel, whom you were wise to not mention directly, in the hopes of catching a slip on our part.  No matter how minor and ineffective the probe of our defenses was, I wanted to know who was behind the obvious sacrificial goat we’d captured, so I took several additional steps...”  Glancing up as her ‘guard’ returned, Jayrel’s office just two doors away, she accepted the offered packet of parchment, glanced inside to double-check the contents, and set it on the table before continuing, “Thus, the burglary you reported wasn’t news to me, though the suicide certainly was, and we’ve got a better idea than most as to why he did it.”  She slid the packet across the table to within his reach, explaining, “This was to be Lophiel’s next report to his family.  Not to his brother, the duke, though it would have passed through that worthy’s hands in transit, but to his extended family... in Vivenge.  It contains transcripts of confidential council meetings, reports on the private dealings of other councilors, and a few details gleaned from more embassies than just this one.  In short, the contents of that packet, and other documents recovered last night, would build a very good case for high treason, against both the councilor and his brother.”  Smiling, she gestured to either side behind her, “I’d like you to meet your ‘master thief,’ in the form of these two young ladies.  They took anything that looked valuable, too, just to muddy the waters and make it look more like an ordinary robbery, but that also brought to light a detail that pertains to your interests, that the councilor wasn’t even working entirely from loyalty to Vivenge, either.  He sent these collected reports off every two months, and in return received a one-pound bar of the purest platinum, each time.  In short, he was the worst sort of traitor, loyal only to his own comfort and prosperity.”

\tTyron’s expression was of growing disbelief and even pain, as if he desperately wished what she said wasn’t true, but the news jibed all too well with what he already knew.  Blinking away a hint of tears, he asked quietly, “And may I have your oath to that effect?”

\tThe priestess nodded, touching her amulet, “In Malia’s name, I swear that everything I told you since asking that our speech be kept off the record is true.  In Her name and as your sister in Her service, I also swear that the documents before you were found in the manor office of Lophiel, in two boxes, one warded and in a mage-locked drawer of his desk, the other merely hidden and locked.”

\tHer guest nodded sadly and wiped his eyes, then sighed and picked up the packet to tuck into his robe, “I’m obligated, then, to bring these directly to the Magistrate General to initiate a formal investigation for treason, then inform the king.”  He glanced up at the two ‘guards’ with such surprising abilities, then back, “I’ll do my best to keep your name, and those of your staff, out of it... but Keesanrel’s already suspicious of you, and prejudiced, all for bad reasons, but they’re there.  If things calm down enough for me to do so, I’d very much like to ask those young ladies how they got past such comprehensive defenses, but my oath as the king’s vassal, as well as my promise to our Lady about justice back when I became a novice, demand that I see to more important matters first.”  He gestured at the guard behind him, still motionless save for breathing, “Put your necklaces back on so this fellow doesn’t notice anything when I release him in a moment... but, thank you.  You’ve done my nation a great service, even if the king would vehemently disagree.”

Chapter 7

\tSerra stepped into the lethal room of the playclub, a couple hours earlier than her last visit, but with a ‘day off’ from court’s cancellation she had time to spare.  Of course, this time her lunch had been at a regular hour, delayed neither by duty or from the knowledge that it took time to kill, clean, and cook a sacrifice; showing up for supper hungry, here, was just counterproductive.  Her partner in crime was, that very moment, investigating the ‘naughty’ room, and she planned to join her there once she’d checked whether... there!  The vulpine couple she’d previously met was at a different table, and the vixen had doffed her skirt to better enjoy her husband’s lap and opened breeches, but they were there.

\t“Out enjoying the unexpected, mmm, holiday?  Hrf, we had the same... same idea,” the fox mused in greeting, a bit distracted by the curvaceous bundle in his lap, and it only got worse as she sank down far enough to engulf his knot, his head lolling back with a quiet moan.

\tSerra recognized the technique; that woman wasn’t moving an inch, but her insides were giving him the most intimate of massages, a trick that took a great deal of practice and exercise.  Even the tigon was still building her strength and control, there, and had nowhere near enough experience to try bringing off a man by vaginal muscles alone... but the vixen did, her mate’s moan rising to a good effort at a lupine howl.

\tThe cat pulled out a chair and relaxed onto it, waiting for the pair to finish enjoying themselves, then spoke as both pairs of eyes looked to her curiously, “With the fun we had the other night, we never got around to introductions.  I’m Corporal Serra, late of the Stonecliff City Guard, daughter of Count Stonecliff, and half-sister to Baron Lark’s Reach, though in this kingdom I suppose you’d call them a baron and earl respectively.”

\tThe lady of the pair, still in her husband’s lap and not even having moved to pull off of his shaft, nodded, “Yours must be an... interesting noble family, city, or both, if you weren’t granted an officer’s rank just for who you’re related to.  Young braggarts with far humbler connections than yours, I’ve heard boasting that they’d make captain just for signing up.  In any case, to return the favor, I am Fayette, and my mate goes by Coram.”

\tSerra nodded, “Thank you.  And it’s... sort of the city that’s weird, but it’s my family’s fault.  My father’s first wife... had some problems that spilled out over the rest of the county, and ended up being executed for treason, while his second wife, my mother, went out of her way to fix the problems the first had caused, entirely from principle.  Since Stonecliff had had the reputation of being one of the least-trustworthy holdings to do business with, we’ve had to go to the opposite extreme to regain our image, and my specialty, off the record, was arranging disgraces or accidents, the latter usually fatal, for anyone who might tarnish our new reputation with their acts.  It’s a good thing I didn’t mind starting at the bottom when I enlisted...  My recruiter was sweating right through his armor, obviously curious as to whether I’d ask for a high rank, but knowing that if he offered one, I’d probably have to kill him... which brings us, if not exactly neatly, to the main reason for my visit.”  She lifted a small, heavy coinpouch from her belt and grinned as she dropped it on the table with a clink, “Thirty florins, as agreed.  I’d like to buy that deadly little beauty your husband carries.”

\t“Hand it over, dear,” Fayette practically purred, leaning back to stroke her cheek along her mate’s muzzle.  “You can’t tell me we can’t afford that new silk dress I want, anymore... and I’ll even be nice and keep the promise I made when I first saw it, and not wear anything under it for the first week.”

\tThe fox rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he reached for the small of his back, wiggling a bit as he worked free the hook securing the sheath to his belt.  He leaned forward as far as his lapmate allowed, sliding the knife across the table and dragging the coinpouch closer as he nodded, “I’ll miss that one... but I sent a letter to my father yesterday morning, assuring him I was getting a decent price for it.  Whatever he has handy should arrive in two or three weeks, and he doesn’t make bad knives.  His ‘low-end’ wares require at least a week of hard labor each, and I’ll be proud to wear whatever he chooses.”

\tSerra had to chuckle softly, “And to think that some people think that math is boring...  A few weeks to produce something that sells for more than most commoners make in several years?  Normally, a blacksmith’s job isn’t particularly glamorous... but I’m guessing Fayette’s family had something of an epiphany when they sat down and calculated just how much your dad makes.  Any resistance they might have had to a count’s sister marrying a ‘mere craftsman’ probably suffered a slight accident at that point.”

\tNodding, Coram tilted his head, “Are you sure you’re just a corporal?  You’ve just guessed the major details of my courtship, accurately I should add, from just the sketchiest of clues.  That really sounds more like a sergeant’s thinking, and everyone knows they’re the ones who really run militias and armies.”

\tMentioning her ‘off the record’ activities, she was starting to realize, had been a mistake, and reiterating them to emphasize that she wasn’t exactly a normal corporal was out of the question.  As friendly as this couple seemed, keeping her status as an Agent a secret, even if a trainee outranked her, had been rather strongly implied recently.  A moment’s thought provided an alternative answer, and she temporized as she reached to accept the knife, “Even with parental dispensation, there’s a certain pace to things in my county’s militia, and since I didn’t enlist in the consular service to begin with, the embassy is taking its cues from the rules I’m used to.  In another month or two my performance will be reviewed, and if found satisfactory I’ll advance one rank, no more and no less.  It’s fairly certain that I’ll be a sergeant at that point; no matter how gifted I may be, along the lines you just pointed out, my age and seniority are the real deciding factors.”

\tFayette chose that moment to slip off of her husband’s lap, picking up her skirt and stepping carefully back into it, all without a hint of flashed pink from the feline’s perspective.  There was one brief glimpse behind her, of dusky red as the fox refastened his breeches, but he’d almost entirely retreated into his sheath by that point.  The discretion they showed raised a curious itch in Serra’s mind, but she decided to look into it later.

\t“My fellow honor guard,” the tigon mused, “is also my girlfriend to some degree... and she’s waiting for me in the naughty room.  Well, maybe not waiting, but she’d probably like me to join in with whoever she’s ravishing.”  She tucked the knife into a belt pouch that also held a couple of wash cloths and a compactly-folded silk skirt in case her current dress got stained, then rose and offered her hand, “She does come to rooms like this one sometimes... but, with or without her, I’ll see you two again, here or in court.”

\tBoth vulpines nodding and chuckling, they each gripped her hand lightly in turn then turned a speculative eye on the lines of slaves, a bit diminished since they weren’t the only courtiers with extra time on their hands, the fox murring, “So we shall, and have fun.”

* * *

\tAccompanied by her honor guards, each wearing the legal limit of three knives, though the new addition was shorter than custom would have allowed, Elaria drifted through the milling nobles.  She paused several times as a hand raised toward her, politely answering whatever question that courtier had, but kept her general progress steadily toward the throne.  The seneschal moved to intercept her as she neared, filling in for the Consular General while he was in meetings with another delegation, and she murmured quietly to him, “I wish to submit a proposed treaty to the king.  It’s... pretty much identical to the one he had with Burtak, but with updated phrasings to reflect recent changes in formal language.  Also included will be the results of a recent survey of our entire mutual border, confirming landmarks, lines, and crossing-points.”

\tThe middle-aged wolverine nodded, “I’ll accept them in my liege’s name... but he might not be able to immediately give them the attention they deserve.”  He glanced over at the cougar and his strained, pensive expression, “Our king is, quite understandably, somewhat distraught and distracted, given the events of recent days.  He never suspected that Duke Urenhold, nor any member of his family or staff, could be disloyal, but the evidence that was uncovered is fairly incontrovertible.  This is also, indirectly, why you’re speaking to me and not Baron Greldan, as that worthy is closeted with the ambassador from Vivenge, attempting to determine whether they knew that one of their nobles was on the receiving end of this chain of information.”

\tThe princess donned a faint, calculated frown, “I understand how this sort of situation can, quite legitimately, complicate the usual pace of government and diplomacy, but that’s also related to the survey results I’m delivering.  My nation shouldn’t have to invest the time and effort in ‘confirming’ such details, as if the death of our king could possibly change the course of rivers... and no matter how genuine it appears on the surface, with the long history of petty delays ending in war between our nations, this crisis’ timing has to be viewed as... suspicious.”

\tShe hadn’t raised her voice from the approved volume for a ‘private’ conversation in a crowded room, but this close to the throne she hadn’t needed to.  The king stiffened in his seat, his introspective expression replaced by one of anger, and he rumbled, “You think... that I’ve somehow created this situation, just to keep you from offering me a treaty?  A member of my council and a personal friend of mine is dead, one of his trusted servants maimed for life at the hands of your guards, and all you can think about is accusing me of stalling?”

\tGlancing up to meet his gaze, his addressing her directly having changed the legal footing of the situation entirely, Elaria shook her head, “I make no such accusations, but politics is a game of appearances.  I simply state a fact, that my king and his council will have to view this situation askance.  I’ve not yet received any directives to change any aspect of my mission or its policies, the confirmation of the treaty in my guard’s pouch, or one very much like it, still my only goal, but if any more ‘coincidental’ delays crop up, I’m almost certain my orders will change.”

\tKeesanrel seethed inside; she was entirely correct about their countries’ mutual history and the delays his kingdom had manufactured, as well as the appearances of the situation... but, damn it, this time it wasn’t his fault!  Saying so, however, by those same standards of appearances, would come across as a tacit admission of the artificial nature of all their previous negotiations.  She’d definitely won this round... so he seized upon the only, tiny opening she’d left in her verbal defenses, “This is not a game... which you, personally and for Lachier, would do well to remember.  I will tolerate only so much abuse, even inferred, against the dignity of this throne, and for this day you’ve reached my limit.”  Glancing between his seneschal and wizard, he half-bowed, “Tyron, Yarenel... you may continue court without me.  For the sake of my temper and its potential repercussions, I should retire.”

\tEven as the big man gathered his personal guard and left, passing his silent wife and ignoring the murmurs rippling through his court, priestess and wizard shared a glance and a nod, the cat’s somewhat sad.  He didn’t like doing this to his cousin... but he knew as well that it was necessary for the principles he held dear, and that a peaceful final outcome seemed just that little bit more likely as a result.

* * *

\tConversations trailed off as the ambassador stepped through the back door of the playclub’s ‘naughty’ room, though a number of moans, slurps, and lusty grunts still filled the air, from those too ‘occupied’ to pay much attention.  The stage in this chamber was only token, being a place for slaves to gather and having a slightly larger featherbed on the floor than the others scattered around the large room.  The tables, too, were smaller, so the vixen chose one with only a single, clothed occupant, padding over and asking politely, “Could you find another seat, please?  I’ve just received a... somewhat unusual request for a meeting, and if my suspicions are at all correct, the other party will wish... well, not privacy perhaps,” and she glanced around with a smile, “but at least the closest semblance thereof to be found, here.”

\tThe well-dressed bat nodded, “Of course, ma’am,” and stood, glancing around.  Another table’s lone occupant, a mink, had been observing them, and batted her eyes with a shy smile, so his ears immediately perked up as he stepped around one occupied mattress toward her.

\tSpeaking just loud enough to be heard from her position behind her sister, Pria asked, “What’s this about?  You didn’t get a note or any sort of signal I could see, but... I felt something, just after the king left, that I’m not sure how to describe.”

\tOne brow raised in mild surprise, Elaria replied, “Interesting...  Your association with Roxanarra is stronger than you think, dear.  Someone in that throne room prayed to Her, and She responded, relaying a simple, very humbly-phrased request for a meeting here.  As a full priestess, I noticed both halves of the conversation, and I think you’ll find our visitor even more surprising than this sudden blossoming of priestly perceptions on your part.”

\t“Speaking of Roxanarra and Her associated acts,” Serra murmured from the other side behind her, “I’d been meaning to mention...  I think my friends in the Openheim family are under some sort of suspicion or scrutiny.  Despite the nature of the room we’ve met in, they’ve been as proper and discreet as possible.  I only, and briefly, saw even one hint of furless flesh when they were fucking in the chair, and that’s not easy to manage, so I don’t know why they’d bother unless it meant something to someone else.  They still had public sex, and even if I missed the actual acts, Fayette has killed more than once in that room, but...”

\t“But it’s worth noting if they’re going to any effort at all to reduce the number or degrees of observers’ reports,” the vixen concluded for her with a nod.  “Thank you, and I’ll have the corporal look into it.  Kathalla accepted her, so on at least her part we can discard the suspicion that she’s just pretending to be like us to get closer, but I’ll have to check both for hostile observation of the couple and the distant possibility of deception on the husband’s part, you understand.”  The nod this fetched was a bit grudging, the tigon obviously not wanting to think ill of her new friends, but it also acknowledged that the ambassador had to be that suspicious.  Elaria’s ears perked up the next moment, “Ah, our guest is arriving!”  Two seconds later, the door opened.

\tOne of the elite palace guards preceded the cloaked figure, another following behind, and the pair took up positions to either side of the entrance, off-hands on the hilts of their sheathed swords.  The cut of their charge’s outer garment was that of any common traveler’s cloak, but it was made of pure, emerald-green satin, and as the stranger reached up to pull back the cowl, half the patrons in the room scrambled to their feet, dripping erections and all.  The queen’s eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as the diamond tiara on her head, with suppressed mirth at catching so many of her courtiers trying to show proper respect under the circumstances, but she waved graciously with one paw, “Don’t let my little visit interrupt your fun, my friends...” and her eyes narrowed, “but, also, do not mention this visit to my husband.  That includes you spies,” and she pointed distinctly to three figures in turn, “or, on top of formal charges for betraying a royal confidence, I’ll tell your boss just how much of your high wages and expense accounts are being used as little more than an excuse to screw slaves all day.  Our king’s commands can override even my own, so I don’t expect you to lie if directly ordered to tell him where I was today, but I order you not to volunteer that information!”

\tOf those gathered for fun that afternoon, it was the well-off commoners in the group who managed to most easily obey the directive to get back to what they were doing, and a few chuckles were had at the expense of three or four nobles who were having trouble getting erect again with their queen watching.  All but one case of impromptu impotence, though, was cured when the queen reached Elaria’s table and slipped out of her cloak, as she’d worn little more than a very skimpy pair of underdrawers and a translucent negligee beneath it, several nobles caught staring far too long before their wives or playmates reclaimed their attention.  That cougar was far more buxom than her modest court gowns had ever shown, the thin gauze doing little to obscure the perfectly-rounded orbs beneath, and nothing at all to restrain their pendulous sway as she took her seat.

\t“Your Majesty,” the vixen murred respectfully, half-bowing over the table.

\tHer guest chuckled throatily, shaking her head, “No... not that, not here, and not now.”  One hand still holding her cloak, the other fished around in a pocket, withdrawing a necklace almost identical to one of the ambassador’s, save for its copper castings and bronze chain.  “For this all-too-brief time,” she mused half-wistfully, “I’m once more just Lylae the novice, as I was a year and change ago when I came home from the temple for the winter holidays, only to catch a rather prominent eye while simply helping out in my parents’ tavern.  I prayed hard, the night he proposed, and Our Bounteous Lady felt I could do some good by accepting.  He’s... not the greatest of lovers in the world, and only barely listens when I voice an opinion in private, but I’ve seen more than one case when he did follow my advice even if he didn’t remember who’d given it.  Thus, my sacrifice has not been in vain.”

\tElaria nodded almost despite herself, “Meanwhile, you play the role of a trophy bride, never offering an opinion of your own in public, always the proper, submissive wife who keeps to her place in the background...  You did so quite well, I should note.  Not even my spymaster ever heard the slightest hint that you possess a functioning brain.”

\tLylae smirked, “This is the first time I’ve shown it since before I’d even met the king.  The wide-eyed, vapid act was always good for tips at the tavern, after all, so that was how he first saw me, and I’ve been careful to keep it up.  The more important it is that I plant the seed of an idea in his head, the emptier mine seems.”  Sobering visibly, she got to the point of her visit, “I came here, tonight, to give you good news and bad.  I seriously doubt your nation is at risk of war any longer... and while that’s certainly good news for everyone involved, the reason is frankly terrifying.  There’s a permanent truth spell on our ambassadorial meeting rooms, but the indicator is located in a spy-post within the walls.  Despite direct, personal oaths to the exact opposite, it seems that Vivenge’s representative did know of Duke Urenhold’s divided loyalties, and that he did report to their official government intelligence services.  Keesanrel’s original plan, now, would be tantamount to suicide; letting the empire’s troops through our territory to attack yours... would only give them two conquests for the price of one.  It is very clear that we can’t trust our ‘ally.’”

\tThe vixen frowned as she thought hard...  As nice as it was to have her suspicions confirmed, the long-term implications were anything but pleasant.  Just over twenty percent of Drachath’s foreign trade was with Atheria, and their frequent skirmishes over the centuries had been an acceptable price of doing that business.  While they weren’t quite as grand as their title of ‘empire’ suggested, Vivenge was still nearly twice as big as either of their nations, with an army to match.  Half-turning in her seat, she snapped her fingers, “Parchment.  Now.”  Serra had the right belt pouch this time, so she quickly stepped up and set out a small roll of parched hide, an even smaller bottle of ink, and an ordinary quill that had been cut in half to fit into the tiny bag.  Glancing back up to the queen as she wrote, she mused, “This is a quick request for cancellation that I’d like you to give the seneschal, or the Consular General if he’s out of his meetings.  A non-aggression pact isn’t enough to do either of us any good, now, but an alliance...  That just may save all our hides.  I have one or two ideas that I’d been holding in reserve to shorten any war between Atheria and Drachath, but they’d actually work even better against Vivenge.”  Smiling faintly, she added, “And, if you’re willing to drop your act enough to pass it along, as it’s still too early to be putting it into writing... you can tell someone that Drachathian troops will not need to violate your territory to get within tactical distance of some very... sensitive portions of the empire.”

\tBlinking as her hostess blew on the ink of the quick note, there was a hint of hope in the queen’s eyes for the first time that afternoon.  “I’ve never studied much strategy,” she admitted as she accepted and folded the parchment, “but even I know that their bigger army can only be decisive if it’s massed against ours all at once.  If, as you seem to be implying, we can hit them from two directions at once, with our massed forces, they have very little hope of completely stopping either one.”

\tElaria nodded with a grim smile, “I am trained in strategy and tactics, though my military rank was one of the titles your herald was told to ignore, and if we do this right, it won’t even be a battle.  It’ll be a slaughter.”

\tBrows high, Lylae tried to lighten the bloodthirsty mood with a laugh and a waved arm, “We’re at the wrong end of the club for that!  Let’s not put these nice people off of their fun, please.”

\tThis earned a chuckle, “Oh, alright, I’ll shut up about it...  For now, I need to report to my king then get together with my legal staff and start drawing up a proper treaty of alliance.  For your very welcome, and very helpful news, bad as some of it may have been, please enjoy anything this club has to offer, our treat.  If you paid a cover charge to get in here anonymously, it will be refunded on your way out.”  She glanced over to Pria, “Go talk to the desk man and then the kitchen manager to make it so.”

\tWhile the young cougar started eying a couple of well-muscled stallions in the slave lines, her expression between speculation and hunger, the wolf nodded, “Yes, ma’am,” and padded out.

* * *

\tLylae sat in front of the silvered glass mirror in the royal bedchamber, half-dreamily running a brush through her arms’ fur.  At its quality, that mirror was worth more than its weight in gold, and it remained her personal favorite of the luxuries she’d enjoyed since marrying the king.  The act she’d had to keep up kept her from the social pleasures another queen might have enjoyed, and while the food to be had was the best she’d ever tasted, she couldn’t eat much of it if she wanted to remain able to fit into her expensive wardrobe.  She knew, in any case, that she’d been blessed with an unusual beauty, and enjoyed sitting here, enhancing and perfecting the base nature had laid.

\tThe muffled clatter of armor as the suite’s guards snapped to attention gave her the bit of warning she needed, several seconds before the door actually opened, and she made just a few adjustments to her lounging robe so it didn’t quite cover everything it should.  Though he saw her naked often enough, just like any other man her husband took any ‘forbidden’ peek that offered itself.

\tFootsteps echoed faintly from the vaulted ceiling of the sitting room, but they stopped just inside of the bedchamber, only the sounds of breathing and the soft hiss of bristles through her own fur reaching her ears.  Hiding a flutter of nervous foreboding, Lylae eased the chair back and stood, turning to find her husband staring silently at her.  Hoping that he didn’t notice the slight delay, she donned her widest smile, “Welcome home, dear!  I hope your day was nice, though everyone seemed to be worried about something...”

\t“Just where were you this afternoon?” he asked without preamble, his voice unusually deep.  “Your handmaiden lost track of you for several hours... and I hear those Drachathian bitches have dropped their request for a basic treaty and are going to pursue something even closer.  No one has offered an explanation for their sudden shift in policy, so I’m left with the only clue I have, that a technical council member vanished for long enough... to betray me, as much as Duke Urenhold did.”  He lifted his hand as her eyes widened, muzzle opening for a vacuous denial, and insisted, “It is a betrayal, if you’re encouraging that filth to cozy up to our great nation.  You’ve never seemed to have a brain in your head, but you picked a very bad time to try and grow one.  I can’t think of anything more incredibly stupid than what I must surmise you’re attempting.”

\tDiscarding her usual ruse, the queen gave him a very sharp, shrewd look, that expression alone so out of place on her face that he started visibly.  Certain that he was too shocked to interrupt her this time, she traded bluntness for bluntness, “I can think of a more stupid plan...  Yours.  It’s obvious even to a simpleton that Vivenge is not our friend.  You call it a betrayal, but I call it doing the one thing that can save your kingdom.  A duke is a traitor; that means that better than twelve percent of your army can’t be relied upon, when they’re already at an enormous disadvantage against the enemy we only just saw coming.  We need allies, whether you personally like them or not!”

\tKeesanrel was shaking his head as he stepped from the hardwood floor onto the carpet surrounding the bed, “I was there when we signed the treaty with Vivenge, when the emperor and I, sitting side by side, promised to defend each other’s life, land, and dignity.  By that promise, I will help him root out whatever subversive elements in his government are plotting against us both, after which we can crush those annoying southerners, once and for all!  That land worships a bitch-Goddess, and sends more fornicating bitches up here to beg for restraint, only how many favors do I owe them, when they’ve half corrupted my closest advisor, and have corrupted my very wife?!?”

\t“Bending to reality is hardly corruption,” she shot back.  “If you were any other man, you could ignore the truth as much as you wished, but the king can’t do that.  Only you and Lophiel ever wanted to invade, and the rest of the council went along out of respect for you, but if you don’t act like the king you are, they’ll change their minds... and they’ll be right to.”

\tAlmost explosively, the cougar took two more steps toward his wife, his hand reaching out in a hard slap that his flab only lent additional weight to, the sharp smack of impact followed by a crash as she fell against the mirror.  Disbelief, more than the pain from the several places sharp glass had cut her, filled her eyes as she gazed up at the man who’d never before raised his hand to her.  Deliberately turning away, he awaited the guard who’d started sprinting through the sitting room at the sound of the mirror’s demise, and calmly instructed, “Escort her out.  What she does once she’s as far as the public halls is her own business, but she is not welcome in my quarters again tonight.  The last thing I need... particularly now... is another bitch!”

Chapter 8

\t“The council will come to order,” Yarenel called, somewhat needlessly as the whole group had quieted down the moment the king entered the room.

\tNodding to the seneschal, the well-worn rut of formality comforting to the bruising his sensibilities had taken recently, Keesanrel claimed his seat and stated, “Old business can wait.  Much more important, at the moment, is that I introduce a motion to divorce that b... my wife.  I charge her with deception, with betrayal, with defeatism, and with conspiring with the enemies of the kingdom, and once she’s stripped of her title, I fully intend to prosecute her for as many of these as I can.”

\tTyron raised a hand, and the king nodded, eagerly awaiting the motion’s seconding.  “Those charges... seem to have little substance behind them.  The fact that she’s more intelligent than you’d realized is not, itself, a deception, since I strongly doubt you ever asked her about the subject.  Betrayal, defeatism, and conspiracy, too, depend entirely upon one’s perspective, given that the kingdom has no official enemies at the moment, so the only true charge you can level is that she disagreed with you, and that is not a crime, nor is it grounds for divorce, as she’s your wife, not a slave.  She is quite entitled to her own opinions, and to act upon them as she sees fit so long as she breaks no actual laws.”

\t“Point of order!” one of the other councilors, a drinking buddy in the king’s youth, protested.  “The motion has been made, and awaits seconding; debate on its merits must wait, and arguments in favor are given precedence.  In keeping with that point, I hereby second the motion offered by the king.  Arguments in favor?”

\tKeesanrel, who’d relaxed a bit once his bought vote started things moving the right direction, scowled again, “The charges I listed should be argument enough.  That... woman has consorted with my enemies, whether or not we’ve gotten around to declaring war yet, and preached sedition against my allies, this nation’s allies, and she should be tossed penniless onto the street, or outright hung if the courts agree with me.  I move that we take my cousin’s out-of-order statement as sufficient argument against, too, and put it to an immediate vote so we can focus on important matters for the rest of this morning.”

\tAnother of his personal appointees nodded, “Seconded, and I’ll cast the first vote: aye!”

\tOne by one, the other eight old friends repeated, “Aye!”

\tThe mayor frowned as the vote reached his end of the table, the foot to the king’s head, “Nay, I have to say.  Tyron had several good points.”

\tNodding, the councilor for the first district agreed, “Nay.”

\tSo did the other six representatives, the fifth district’s seat still vacant, and Tyron repeated himself when it was his turn.

\t“The vote stands at nine for, nine against,” the king mused in a pleased rumble, “And I have my two votes to cast...  I say aye, and—”

\t“Point of order!”  Everyone but the seneschal and wizard jumped in their seats as a feminine voice half-yelled from behind one of the room’s curtains.  Lylae stepped out from hiding, her face and shoulder bandaged.  There was a fury in her eyes that none had ever expected from the harmless, self-effacing woman they’d come to know, and her voice was nearly a snarl, “You forget, dear husband, that one of those votes you’ve always cast as a pair is mine!  Until and unless a motion like this is carried, I am the queen, and I... say... nay!”

\tNo one else seeming able to find their voice, Yarenel spoke for the record being made at the scribe’s lectern, “The final vote being ten for, ten against, the motion is not carried.  Next order of business?”

\tKeesanrel erupted from his seat suddenly enough to shove the heavy hardwood table back several inches, roaring as he dashed the nearest papers onto the floor with a sweep of his arm, “NO!  I will not suffer this indignity!  This council advises, but I am still the king, and I say this woman is not my wife!  The evidence is so obvious... that I’ll be investigating each and every nay-sayer here for treason, yes, even you, cousin!  As I obviously cannot trust you to work for the clear gain of my kingdom, I hereby dissolve this council, and will rule by decree!”  In one more fit of pique he shoved his ornate chair over, hardwood thumping against the carpeted floor, and stormed out, only the sheer weight of the gilded doors keeping him from slamming them.

\tLylae looked much less confident than she had a few moments before, and turned to Tyron to ask, “Can he do that?”

\tHis quiet chuckle did much to ease her worries, “No...  When this council was formed, the then-king had the right of decree, but by that right he stripped his title of it.  Any major decision, including the marriage or divorce of a queen, must bear the council’s seal to have any legal force whatsoever.  Let him go pester the scribes for a bit...  They’ll get more practice writing, and he’ll feel like he’s ‘doing something.’  He’s harmless enough, now.”

\tYarenel shook his head, one hand absently smoothing down his own raised hackles, “Harmless legally, perhaps... but not physically.  The palace guard are sworn to his service, personally, and will follow just about any order short of one to fall on their swords.  Come to think of it, a couple of ‘em might obey even that.”

\tThe wizard nodded, “True, I hadn’t remembered that... but, still, what can he do?  There’s only a company or so worth of troops in the lot.”  Shrugging, he glanced around the table, “I don’t think we’re going to get much work done here...  Even the smallest quorum in our bylaws still requires the king.  I suggest that we take the rest of the day off, out of the palace, just in case the seneschal has a better point than I want him to about the guards.”

\tMore than one of the assembled councilors said in unison, “Motion seconded and carried!” as the others simply laughed their agreement.

* * *

\t“... and that’s where we stand, a stalemate.  Keesanrel’s still holed up in his suite, issuing decrees, which his guards carry to the scribes, the scribes give copies of to the criers, and the criers dump them in the palace refuse bin.  The queen is perfectly safe here, and seems to be making up for lost time in the club downstairs.  After over a year with a fat, twig-dicked husband, she’s got our best-hung stallion slave starting to complain of chafing.”

\tLachier’s hearty laugh was a welcome sound, even through the slight distortion of the magical crystal, “I’m sure she’ll feel much better once she’s caught up, scars or no.  Luckily, I don’t think I’m in any danger of the same kind of disappointment on Jessela’s part.  Traditions be damned; I took your advice and snuck off with her for an hour, and both of us are much happier about the wedding my council wants, now.  Knowing, not just hoping but knowing, that your potential spouse can please you in bed is as important as you said it was, and I honestly think we’ll have a new queen.  Those few who are still resisting the notion because she’s ‘only’ an earl’s niece... will just have to live with it.”

\tElaria nodded, “Good for you, and for her!  Tradition has its place, but this is really something you need to know beforehand, as it can sour an arranged marriage like nothing else can.  On to other topics, I’m having the staff rewrite our proposed alliance, this time without Vivenge’s special terms and phrasings, as it seems fairly likely that their rules won’t apply anymore once the dust settles.  I’ll also have a request for you to pass along to the Dengarian consulate... wait a moment.  Ronnel just came in, and he’s signaling extreme urgency.  I’m going to drop the privacy shroud, alright?”  The rapid tilting of his closed fist, up and down, was a leftover from their long-ago battle with Talaya, a signal he’d only used once more since, and that day had seen blood on her swords.

\t“Definitely,” her king agreed.  “If the world’s going to hell, I want to hear about it now, not from the herald for an army!”

\tShe’d already twisted the crystal in question, and her husband obviously heard Lachier’s last few words so knew she could hear him now.  “Keesanrel has issued another decree, but this time someone realized it was too important to just throw away.  Though it lacks legal force, he’s declared all relations with Drachath dissolved, and the page who brought our copy said that more palace guards than he’d ever seen in his life were putting on armor.”

\tThe distant raccoon hissed, “Shitbuckets!  Ela, get your ass out of there, the embassy’s about to be attacked!”

\tEven if he couldn’t see it, she shook her head vigorously, “Over my dead body!  There can’t be more than a hundred of those guards, and this time I’m not using wooden swords, plus I have my guard force for backup!  I will call you back, your Majesty, but for now I’m going to teach a royal asshole just what the term ‘blade dancer’ really means!”  Before he could get another word out, she slapped one hand down on the crystal to end the conversation, and the other on a blood-red stone set apart from the others, the screech of a magical klaxon sounding throughout the complex.  She hadn’t bothered to don her official robes in the last few days of chaotic inactivity, and didn’t stop for them now, loosening her swords in their sheaths as she stalked out of her suite toward the stairs.

\tFalling in beside her, Ronnel knew better than to talk her out of personally defending the embassy.  He understood honor as well as she, and rumbled instead, deliberately recalling his old dialect, “With you forever, I promised I’d be.  If fall you do today, then at your side shall I fall too.”

\tHis vixen nodded sharply, “We may indeed fall... but only after taking a lot of those bastards with us!”

\tThe alarm she’d sounded had sent the legal writers, scribes, cooks, and other lesser functionaries scrambling for the escape tunnels, while every guard not on duty in the playclub scrambled for armor and weapons before assembling in the courtyard.  Those downstairs simply locked all the doors, remaining inside to protect the patrons and the slave pens.  The club was, technically, a Kathallic church; if a concentrated force attempted to breach it, She would take action, so all the mortals needed to worry about was the possibility of a few stray soldiers looking for an easier route inside.

\tDistant cries of pain were already audible as the foxes rounded the last corner before the open doors; all three duty shifts of six archers each were on the wall, firing desperately at the column marching up the broadest of the streets around the embassy.  The elite guards had good armor and excellent training in using their shields, and some carried crossbows as well.  Their numbers had only slightly diminished as they drew near, and five figures in Drachathian uniform lay slumped on the wall or on the cobblestones where they’d fallen, four of them silent and still and the fifth moaning as the unarmed healer crouched behind a battlement in his own desperate fight to save even one life.

\tA private was doing much the same thing where he’d been caught away from his weapons, but kept peeking around the stonework as he shouted reports back to his gathered comrades, “I count ninety-two... either we hit more of them than we thought or there’ve been some desertions even among the most loyal.  Wait, I just caught a flash of goldish fur; Keesanrel’s in there somewhere!”

\tElaria finally emerged into the sunlight and marched toward the captain of her modest force where he was organizing his squads for a layered defense of the front door, with flankers ready to slow a concentrated rush enough to be picked apart, when the rhythm of her own boots knocked loose a fragment of song in her memory... and that song grew, half-imagined instruments joining in, but something odd was going on too.  The soldiers nearest her were turning and blinking, ears canted as if they could hear that phantom orchestra themselves.  The song, about a long march and the courage to fight at the end of it when all one wanted was rest and the lasting peace of a crushing victory, had lyrics... and both foxes recognized the voice that began to quietly sing in their minds, one that no one could ever forget if they’d heard it even once.  Malia Herself, backed by a choir of thousands of souls of brave soldiers, sang to them all, and Elaria discarded her plans of consultation and just kept marching to the beat, swords in hand.

\tThe troops that had been preparing to support the mostly-decorative gate’s locking bar with their own strong arms took one look at her face and scrambled to open it instead, and she turned on one heel as she reached the street, continuing without pause toward the oncoming company of hostiles.  She could hear the rest of the soldiers falling into columns behind her, six abreast, and their boots fell in perfect unison, an extra stomp every fourth beat echoing from nearby walls.  Step step step STOMP, step step step STOMP, it sounded more like an army at her back than the two-score and change troops she led, usually in name only, but this day’s reality was a welcome change, and every Drachathian eye shone with a lust for glory, whether they lived to see it or not.

\tThat divine voice in their minds finished the first verse, and the ambassador sang out the first line of the chorus, “A coward dies a thousand deaths...”

\t“A HERO DIES BUT ONE!” the massed voices rang behind her.

\t“Why did we sign up for this crap?”

\t“COME ON, WE’RE HAVING FUN!”

\tTwenty yards separated her from the solid-looking wall of bodies, plate armor, and shields, but even from here she could see the growing confusion, even a hint of fear, on the faces under those visors.

\t“We’re far from home and on our own...”

\t“WHERE WILL WE FIND A BED?”

\tFifteen yards.  “Nowhere!  It’s not time to sleep!”

\tThe roar shook the nearby windows, “IT’S TIME TO MAKE THEM DEAD!” and the column burst from a march into a charge.

\tAmbassador and husband were shoulder to shoulder during that final sprint, each half-turning just before they reached the enemy, back against back.  Ronnel’s foot lashed out, crashing into the breastplate of a guard that had been preparing to parry a higher sword strike and sending him falling into his comrades, limbs and weapons tangling, even as the fox seemed to melt out of the swing of the soldier he actually faced, both hands riposting, one to slam into a helmet hard enough to break the wearer’s neck even as the other open palm to his breastplate sent his body and the two guards behind him tumbling to the ground.  Elaria was the more important target in her enemies’ eyes, but also far deadlier than they’d ever imagined, her motions that perfect blend between flowing, calculated grace and the speed of a striking viper.  She aimed for joints, the razor edge of her swords cleaving through the slightly thinner metal there and sending arms, legs, and the occasional head flying in all directions, and the two swords she had to actually bother parrying were stopped well short of their mark, a lightning flick with her other blade following the next instant in both cases, removing the hands that had been raised against her.

\tThe embassy troops followed behind and around the sides, many of them still humming along as Malia sang another verse.  Their chainmail and breastplates might not have been quite as good of protection as the full plate armor the Atherians wore, but it left them marginally more maneuverable as they climbed over dead bodies and surrounded living ones; the street was only six or seven yards wide, which left room for no more than two elites on either side of the swath the couple in the middle was carving, and those singletons and pairs were quickly surrounded by three to five Drachathians, desperation writ large on their faces as swords and shields moved in defense.  Occasionally, a lucky riposte got through, and a lighter-armored figure fell back, clutching a rent in mail over a wound, but the rear ranks were watching eagerly for just those sorts of gaps, another fighter always ready to step into place to continue the battle.

\tA hint of tawny fur drew Elaria’s attention as another guard fell, the point of her sword having pierced right through his heavy breastplate, withdrawn faster than he could even start to fall and wedge the blade in his armor.  “Ron, checkmate!” she called, then practically screamed in the cougar’s direction, “A coward dies a thousand deaths!” in sync with the chorus running through her head anew.  The palace guards were growing steadily more demoralized, but they still took their duties seriously; those nearby recognized her focus and intent, and started shuffling their king farther back in the ranks, building a wall of bodies several layers deep between him and his would-be killer.

\tKeesanrel wasn’t even sure what was happening anymore...  By now, in his plans, he should already be in the embassy courtyard, surrounded by its dead guard force and directing the search for survivors in the building proper.  He did, though, recognize the voice that yelled at him from barely three yards away, and he snarled in satisfaction as his troops seemed to surge forward.  He hadn’t, himself, managed to get close enough to the front of the fighting to use the sword in his hand, and he cursed the growing wall of bodies that would probably deny him a chance at glory.  Still, he had personally led this attack, rather than hiding back in the palace, and he could certainly twist that into some form of accomplishment...  A hand seized his shoulder just a bit more roughly than several others had been doing, and he blinked, muttering, “Huh?” to himself as he realized that his soldiers weren’t actually progressing.  In fact, none of them had taken a step forward since ten seconds after the initial clash!  He was being pushed backwards, comprehension finally dawned as he found himself alone in an empty street.

\tThe palace guard was still four deep between him and the embassy, but that was less than a third of their original number, a few at the very rear turning away to take up formation around him.  “It’s time to run, your Majesty,” someone told him in a panting voice, and he recognized the lieutenant of the third platoon, his frazzled expression a far cry from his usual immaculate poise.

\t“What about the captain?  Shouldn’t we—”

\t“The captain’s dead,” the wolf interrupted him, “and if we don’t retreat, we will be too!  Sir... run, or I will fucking carry you!  The rest of the troop can buy us enough time, but we have to go now!”

\tThe king’s eyes flared with anger, “Now just see here—hurk!”

\tTrue to his word and duty, the officer threw away his sword and heaved the overweight cat over his armored shoulder, adrenaline as much from anger at the stubborn fool as from the fight giving him the strength to start back down the street at a burdened sprint.  He thought silent, fervent prayers for the souls of his comrades behind him, knowing that they’d do what they must and give their liege time to escape, but of the hundred-strong palace guard... only he and the other three in that defensive escort had any hope to see another day.

* * *

\tElaria hid the faint tremors of near-exhaustion as she settled carefully onto a bench in the courtyard, Meviran materializing out of the still-bustling crowd and drawing near.  The noncombatants had been called back, and they were the ones making most of the fuss as they cleaned up bodies and parts of bodies in the street, helped bandage wounds, and generally worked on restoring the grounds to their state before that illegal decree had arrived.  “So,” she asked, “what’s the damage?”

\tThe mink paused to look her over, nodding to himself as he confirmed that she was unhurt, “On our side, five dead, four from the exchange of arrows and one more in the battle in the street.  We’ve got nearly two dozen wounded, half of them seriously, and four limbs either severed in the fight or too damaged to save.  On the other...”  He shook his head, a clear wonder in his eyes, “We’ve found six survivors and brought them in for treatment, as per our policy on prisoners of war.  Ninety others are dead, nearly half by your hands as no one else’s sword cuts that cleanly, and ten of them after the fact due to gut-wounds or the like, cases that no healer could save so we gave them mercy instead.  Four soldiers and the king managed to escape, the blocking force having fought to the last man.”

\tHis boss nodded, sighing, “I know, as I faced that last man personally...  Loyal to the bitter end, however misplaced that loyalty may have been, as one would expect from the very finest of soldiers.  I will pray for their souls this evening; they died as warriors, and I hope Malia or Tarragh will welcome them in the afterlife.  Those six prisoners, please, treat them well.  They may be our enemies, but they’ve earned our respect.”

\tA brief commotion had started near the gate as she spoke, and she looked over to see her guards, blades still sheathed, pushing back against several figures attempting to gain entry, figures she recognized.  This soon after an attack, standing orders prohibited foreign nationals on the grounds, but the wizard and seneschal were hardly average citizens.  “Let them through,” she called above the arguing voices.

\tCougar and wolverine both bowed deeply as they neared, the latter offering, “On behalf of all Atheria, I’d like to apologize for this attack.  It was unjustified, unjustifiable, and in blatant violation of both kingdom law and the rules of international diplomacy.  If you ask reparations for the deaths and damage done today, I will strongly suggest that the council not contest them.”

\tElaria shook her head with a sad smile, “It’s clear that Atheria lost far more than Drachath, this day.  Those were your finest soldiers; they fought well and honorably, at least a score of them knowingly sacrificing their lives to protect the lord they were sworn to.  I urge only that their families be given full death benefits despite the king’s... departure from civilized behavior.  As soon as our healer declares them fit, I will release the six prisoners we took, without criminal charges.”

\tTyron nodded, one brow high, “I saw the... results of the battle on the way here, and I sent one of my own guards back to gather servants.  Just cleaning up the bodies, and sorting out the pieces for proper burial, will probably take a day or two.”  He glanced to his mustelid companion, “For now, we have a... proposal, that should best be made in private.  I told my friend here of the ‘master thief,’ and, pending your approval, we have a mission for at least one of the pair.”

\tThe vixen nodded again, pausing only to accept her swords from the corporal who’d been cleaning them and slip them back into their scabbards, “They were in the club downstairs when the fighting started, and stood guard there, but,” and she glanced pointedly to the nearest soldier, “I’m sure someone can ask Serra and Pria to join us in meeting room two shortly.”

\tThe two Atherians shared another glance, this one amused, as the private blinked and nodded jerkily, “Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am!”

* * *

\tPria and Serra had been curious for the whole walk there, and reaching the meeting room didn’t help, both teens blinking at the sight of their boss, the mage, and the king’s chief aide, all on the same side of the table opposite two chairs clearly intended for them, and no other guards present.  They had discipline enough, in any case, to keep from glancing at each other as they sat, folding their hands on the tabletop and looking attentive.

\tTyron began, “The council... that is, the real council, consisting of we two here, the hereditary mayor, and the seven remaining ducal representatives, held a meeting that would have been illegal without the king and his cronies, save for some very specific provisions in our law and bylaws.  Keesanrel, we all agree, has gone insane.  On one level, this is perfectly understandable, as his purported allies turned out to be enemies, his hated enemies showed themselves to be our best potential friends in the world, and even his wife turned out to be something completely other than what he’d thought.  Understanding, though, is not an excuse, as a proper king must be flexible, able to adapt to changing situations, and there is never a good reason for a man to strike his wife as he did.  His delusional rule by decree and his paranoid lashing out against all perceived threats except the real ones could no longer be tolerated.  His eldest son, the only child by his first wife, is out of reach, as our ambassador to Vivenge.  As his nearest living relative here in Atheria City... I have been declared king, though I will relinquish that title to his son if he can be safely brought home.”

\tJudging by the start of surprise that even her discipline couldn’t prevent in time, Tyron’s recent promotion was obviously news to even Elaria.  Nodding deeply across the table, both girls acknowledged, “Your Majesty...” before the wolf tilted her head and continued, “How may we serve you?”

\tAt his monarch’s sidelong glance, the wolverine spoke for him, “You can kill the bastard who currently wears the crown and deliver it to us.  He’s only got four real guards left, but his council cronies have a few men of their own, and they’re all holed up in the royal wing.  The regular servants stopped cleaning and cooking for them two days ago, but the wing itself was built as a final line of defense in case of trouble.  It has limited entrances and a fair-sized stockpile of preserved food.  Our city constables don’t have the training for the full military assault it would take to force our way in there, and calling in the official army to storm our own palace would send entirely the wrong message to our neighbors and our own citizens.”

\t“At a minimum,” the cougar added, “it would be seen as a sign of severe internal weakness, and Vivenge’s troops would be on the march as soon as they got the report.  We need time, to finalize an alliance with your king, to have any hope of surviving such a conflict, so we must delay it as long as possible.”

\tAs the girls nodded, Elaria added in a soft, serious tone, “The alliance of which he speaks... will be a real one.  For the first time in centuries, Atheria will sign a treaty with Drachath, not just our king.  The fact that King Tyron and I genuinely like each other will also be a major factor, and the terms of that treaty will likely be even more generous, to both sides, than an average, basic military alliance.  We will have few if any secrets from each other, girls, and its time to lay our cards on the table.”

\tA bit surprised, but understanding immediately, the two ‘honor guards’ fished silvery pins out of their purses, and Pria had to smile as the other mage’s eyes widened and he shot out a half-reflexive probe to verify that the rubies were what they looked like.  Serra spoke for both of them, “We’re Junior Agents for Lachier.  I’ll never be a real Agent, since I don’t have any magic of my own, but my girlfriend will be once she’s fully trained.  Other than the more relaxed requirements, the only other difference between us and a standard Agent is that we’re answerable to more than just the king.  Army colonels, naval commodores, dukes, and,” and she shot her vulpine boss a quick grin, “ambassadors can also command us directly.”

\tThe wolf had given her one quick, mildly surprised look toward the beginning of her explanation, then shrugged to herself before turning back to the Atherians, “I’m... a bit better a mage than I look.  My father’s a full master, and he threw out the usual guidelines about first, second, and third tier techniques, teaching me a... ‘subtlety’ in using my limited power in ways that most students don’t even know exist until a decade or so into their training.  That’s how I got through that balcony door; a remote projection where I pulled in exactly as much motion-magic as I pushed forth, enough to open the latch and deactivate the primary spell without triggering the secondary alarm.  The air itself is in constant motion, a vibration that’s actually related to heat, so for one flick of a latch the room as a whole cooled several degrees.”  She glanced to the side again, “My... ‘girlfriend,’ I guess that’s true enough given how often we’ve slept together, had much greater experience as a purely physical thief and assassin, and that was also a great help, as the secondary alarm was of a type she’d run afoul of but that I’d never seen.”

\tThe king nodded, smiling as he was finally able to piece together the sequence of spells that had gotten them through an otherwise foolproof security system, “It sounds like you two are, indeed, the very best we could send on this job.  I’ll give you as much detail as I can about the wing’s magical defenses, which I did not make but which it was my duty to maintain, and Yarenel has a map of the wing with its choke-points and escape routes noted, but we’ll be leaving the specifics entirely up to you.  I don’t care how you do it, or who else in that wing dies in the process, but, in Malia’s name, I swear that we don’t want that so-called king to see another sunrise, and that you have my official blessing to kill him.  No harm or other repercussions will fall upon you for your acts this night, whether you succeed or not.”

\tThis sort of offer was, literally, an assassin’s dream come true, and both young ladies were grinning as they shared one-armed hugs between their seats.  “Your Majesty,” Pria accepted for both of him, “you can consider that bastard as good as dead!”

Chapter 9

\tThis was like, and yet so unlike, their last late-night outing.  There were guards and constables in earshot, but those worthies were tucked into their own hiding spots in the manicured gardens surrounding the palace, ready to call out a warning or rush to the assistance of the thieves if needed.  “There,” Pria whispered, “that’s probably the giant bust of Barthom II that Ty mentioned.  The moonlight’s on the wrong side to read the plaque, but it’s got the right mix of energies around the base.  Pass me a pack of crystals.”

\tOn seeing the map, there’d obviously been very few routes to choose from, as not just the windows but the very walls were imbued with a spell that blocked all forms of line-magic, made it so much more difficult to push through a remote point that Pria’s power was literally useless, and would report an attempt at either kind of penetration.  Instead, they’d decided to go in through the escape tunnels, which had their own subtle, devious enchantments, but a few hours worth of work had provided a very specialized sort of lockpick.

\tThe pouch the tigon handed over contained four shards of quartz, a lump of jade, and a ball of sticky, half-dried pine sap.  She broke off pieces of the latter to stick the crystals around the four corners of the engraved marble plaque at the base of the statue, then planted the jade in the very center, murmuring, “And now we wait,” as she settled back in a crouch.  Earth-energies were always very subtle things, but the enchantment she’d invented was one even her father could be proud of.  That jade was reading the plaque, memorizing it, and sharing its infinitesimally small power signature with the four other shards, while their own spell was kept in check simply by the central stone being ‘in line’ with them on the same plane.  Once all the stones had settled down, and giving them one more moment for any changes that were too faint for even her practiced mage-sight to notice, the wolf stood and hefted her own major burden for the evening, a twenty-pound sledgehammer.  Reaching out magically, she ‘grabbed’ a dome-shaped batch of air, holding it still enough that sound would not pass while keeping active magic well away from the statue itself, then simply bashed in the plaque with her hammer.  Freed from the jade’s restraint as it tumbled inwards with the chunks of marble, the other four crystals instantly started projecting, if invisible to the eye, the exact earth-energy signature that the slab had had while in place.  The spell that verified the tunnel exit’s ongoing integrity had been... specific, so much so as to be its own form of vulnerability, and it wouldn’t react at all to non-marble passing through its detection range.  “You’re free to go in, and the other set of stones should work the same.  Remember about how long I waited, but this part’s all yours.”

\tNodding, Serra grabbed her into a tight hug and kissed her on the lips, murmuring, “Just in case I don’t return... but I’ll try!” then ducked into the tunnel.  He very presence triggered another spell, but this one was harmless, dim crystals lighting up as she neared and passed each one, as royalty that found itself under attack couldn’t be expected to remember to bring a torch.  After two turns, probably added to make it hard for enemies to guess where the exit was, even if they knew which room the tunnel had to start in, it ended with a vertical shaft, a ladder, and a somewhat decayed featherbed.  She smirked to herself at that; it had been a nice enough principle, centuries ago when the palace had been built, but no one had thought to replace it as it rotted, even the molds and mildews having long since died by this point.

\tAt the top of the ladder, another marble slab greeted her, and she could see the faintest hint of moonlight through it, a finger-hole for lifting the trapdoor that didn’t even have a rug over it.  Any actual movement on the slab’s part would set off the alarm, so they hadn’t bothered to install any sort of lock.  Moving as silently as she could, as she was also straining for any sounds or changes in light that might make it through that hole, she stuck four more crystals to the shaft corners around her, and the jade in the middle of the door, before silently counting off the seconds she’d tallied while watching Pria.

\tThe exact plan of attack... had been worked out in consultation with Lylae, who’d at points shown an almost unholy glee at some of its details, but afterwards had knelt down and prayed, begging Roxanarra for Her forgiveness.  This was going to be nasty... but the Goddess was still, evidently, personally miffed at the way Keesanrel had struck Her novice, several scars marring her beautiful face even after the best the embassy healer could do, as it had taken her nearly an hour to get there.  The whole plan had Roxanarra’s and Kathalla’s explicit support.  Finally lifting the trapdoor, and smiling at the very lack of commotion, Serra eased herself up into the shadowed corner of the room and took a moment to pull off her black dress and shoes.

\tThe only sounds in the chamber were of her own breathing, and that of the figure on the bed.  If any of his cronies’ loaned guards were nearby, she couldn’t hear or smell them, and she thought of her plans in detail as she padded silently toward the bed, dwelling on them, relishing them, the scent of aroused big cat gradually pervading the air.  In the faint light of the half moon that reached the bed, she could see the cougar’s nose start to twitch, some level of his being realizing that she was there, and she climbed carefully in beside him, snuggling as close as she could without jostling him instantly awake.

\t“Hrr... Ly... Lylae...” he rumbled, still at least three quarters asleep, and as a paw absently stroked up her lower knee, she lifted one thigh to encourage his exploring touch.

\tMurmuring in her best imitation of the queen’s voice, having practiced while Pria was casting enchantments, she whispered back, “I couldn’t stay away, my love...  Can you forgive me?  You were so right, I was a bitch, but I’ll never leave your side again...”  Her lower paw stroked up to gently scritch at his jaw, just where it met his throat, a ‘special place’ his wife had frequently used to encourage him for a second attempt, her other hand at the small of her back where a ribbon tied the sheath of her new dagger to the base of her tail.

\t“Oh, love,” the cougar sighed, nuzzling forward, once again as predicted by his estranged queen... and that’s where he got his surprise.  The one way Serra could not pass for Lylae in the dark was that the queen’s breasts were about twice the size of her own, perfectly respectable pair, and that cleavage had to feel wrong to the ex-king.

\tAlmost as one motion, the tigon’s scritching paw gripped higher, clamping around his muzzle and bending his head back, and her knife whipped around to stab at just the point she’d felt for with her first touch, doing insignificant gross damage but slicing neatly through his vocal cords.  Swiping in a curve down one side, she cut through the tendons of his shoulder and elbow, shoved him over onto his back to repeat the slash on the other side, then threw herself backwards to where she could grab his calves with one arm and hamstring him with the other.

\tThat first flash of agony while only half awake had kept him from immediately struggling, and repeated, rapid cuts had served to extend his ‘distraction’ until it was too late.  He couldn’t struggle anymore; his voice didn’t work, his limbs were helpless, and he could already feel his lifeblood seeping into the bed from the deep wounds.  Still speaking quietly so as not to alert any guards, she straddled his hips and growled, “Your paranoid delusions are driving your kingdom to ruin, and you also did one thing I can never forgive... you hit your wife.  Your councilors have already replaced you, and now, alive, you’re more trouble than you’re worth.  My name is Serra, Junior Agent of Drachath, and I will be your executioner tonight.”  Somehow, the erection that had grown when he’d been mistaken about her identity was still there, perhaps a bit below average, but not nearly the ‘twig’ his wife had complained of, so she shifted herself just a bit, taking him into her heat with a pleased sigh.

\tKeesanrel’s muzzle worked, a faint crackle in his toneless breath as blood bubbled, but all he could whisper was, “No, you can’t,” as she very much did.  That beautiful, deadly little knife slashed down once more, penetrating just beneath his sternum and slicing easily through his thick layer of fat.  She took its hilt in her teeth so both hands could pull his belly wide open, and it was hard to restrain a happy squeal as she reached deeper to start yanking out intestines, kidneys, and anything else that came to hand.  Once he’d been emptied enough to give her room to work with, she elbowed his bladder just for the pleasant, involuntary spurt against her cervix, then jammed her hand upwards, crushing his diaphragm in passing to instead grip his frantically-pumping heart.  Fingers slipped carefully around its mass, a bit larger than average given the size of the body it had had to support, before she tore it free in one hard yank.  It gave one last convulsion against her palm, and she held it directly over his face.  His eyes were barely working, and there was little light to see by, but he very probably realized what the hot splatters falling onto him were in the few seconds of life he had left.

\tEasing herself off of his still-firm shaft, its spines tickling delightfully at her walls on the way out, she wiped her blade on some of his clean arm-fur, sheathed it, and moved to collect the crown resting on the headboard, taking his heart with her as well as she moved to reclaim her clothes and retreat down the tunnel once more.

* * *

\t

\t“Another perfect job, girls,” Elaria grinned at her return from the first session of morning court in nearly a week, relaxing onto a chair in the Agents’ room.  “No one saw a thing, and no one heard a sound; it wasn’t until the crony bringing in his breakfast saw the shape you’d left him in, and promptly lost theirs, that the crime was discovered.  The remaining elites have sworn allegiance to King Tyron I, the cronies have been banished, and our friend’s first action as king was to issue full royal pardons for both of you, stating publicly and unambiguously that it wasn’t a crime on your parts; it was an execution for his crimes against Atheria.  Even if someone objects, though, his second act was to reinstate our traditional diplomatic immunity, so even a unanimous vote of the new council could, at the very most, deport you.”

\tPria nodded, “That’s in keeping with his promise...” then grinned, “and, this time, we didn’t have to keep the act itself a secret, so we could actually catch up on our sleep.”  She glanced to her friend, “I talked to Lylae after you, ah, had me for breakfast...  She’s delighted at how you literally tore that fat fool apart, and she’ll be keeping his heart forever since I preserved it, commenting that he’d promised it to her in the marriage ceremony, but had never actually delivered until today.”  The tigon bent over in her seat, laughing, and she turned back to her sister, “The former queen is still considering her options...  She’s planning to offer Tyron her services, officially and in her capacity as a Roxanite novice, tonight, as a simple ‘thank you’ at a minimum.  If he’s significantly more satisfying than his cousin, she’ll propose to him and, this time, be a real queen, using that fine mind of hers a bit more directly for the good of the kingdom.  If not... she’ll simply return to the temple, a pleasant enough lifestyle for one with her appetites.”

\tThe ambassador nodded, “Then there’s only three serious points left over from court, most of which I spent on Tyron’s dais, talking to him instead of random courtiers...  First things first, he’s signed our treaty of alliance, and I’ll be forwarding it to Lachier the instant I’m done here.  In short, my primary mission, and yours as Junior Agents, was not only a success, but a triumph as we’ve gotten so much more than a promise not to invade.”

\tBoth sets of ears perked up at that, smiles immediately brightening their faces, but Serra’s head tilted a moment later, her muzzle dipping in a faint frown, “But that alliance is its own sort of problem, isn’t it?  It carries responsibilities, and the threat Atheria will almost certainly face from Vivenge is not something we can ignore.”

\tElaria nodded, her expression serious, “Exactly, and the fact that you spotted that, rather than immediately abandoning your duties to celebrate, will reflect very well on you in my report.  You didn’t share Pria’s and my training with our ex-Agent father, but one of his frequent themes was ‘think of the next step!’  The second piece of news is that I’ll be requesting that a new ambassador is sent, one classically trained for the standard duties of representing our king to a friendly nation, while we will be leaving within a day or two.  After a suitable delay, officially a mourning period for Keesanrel and a funeral that will remember what he did right rather than how things fell apart these last weeks, Tyron will be taking a new, hard line in his stand with Vivenge.  He will formally accuse them of espionage, and will demand cessation, proof of cessation, and the prosecution of all of Duke Urenhold’s relatives whom he’s able to positively identify after going through those documents you stole and raiding the duke’s palace for more.  He fully expects, after a few rounds of exchanges to convince them that he’s serious, to see the current treaty with the empire abrogated and war to be declared.  We, though, will use the time this takes as a head start to travel, as there are details to my plan to surprise Vivenge that I must handle personally.  Sir Ferrl might be able to pull off the same stunt, but he’s the only other person in the world with the right connections.”

\tHer sister tilted her head, thinking hard... then gasped loudly, “The Vale!  More specifically, the wall around the Vale!  The seat of the empire’s less than forty miles from that border, but they’ve never bothered to fortify it.  In fact, I think they moved the capitol there, some six or seven centuries ago, simply because it was impenetrable!  If Drachath’s army is gathered there, discreetly... we can crush them while nearly their entire army’s gathering to the east!”

\tThe vixen’s broad grin showed many fine, sharp teeth.  “Commendations for both of you in my report, now!  You got it.  Not many people could convince both Lachier and Malia to follow and allow this plan, but that border is as permeable as air when my Lady of the Arts wills it so.  ‘Impenetrable’ my tight pink arsehole!”  It was her sister’s turn to laugh merrily, and she turned her grin on Serra, “My third piece of news is also the lightest...  Your friends from Openheim were, indeed, under suspicion, but just because they were regular patrons of the playclub.  The discretion you noticed was quite innocent, and for the very simple purpose of making sure that some other courtier there, it didn’t matter whom, had a worse report delivered about them on any given night.  As a skilled acolyte, Tyron noticed Fayette’s new, black soul, and it’s turning out for the best.  He’s asked me to ask you to ask them,” and she shared an eye-roll with the tigon at the convolution, “if they’d be his new ambassadors to Drachath, a post a Kathallic would fill better than most.”

\tSerra’s eyes were very bright as she nodded eagerly, “I’ll visit the club this evening, or corner them at tomorrow’s morning court if they’re taking the night off, and relay that request as soon as possible.  I’m sure they’ll agree; they already have a clear desire to look out for the interests of those they’re loyal to, Fayette will love our homeland’s playclubs, and Coram will probably agree just for the irony of a ‘mere’ blacksmith’s son going so far.  His wife, naturally, will be the official ambassador, as a noble by blood, but he’ll have the same position as Ronnel, who’s not exactly useless here.  He’ll also, quite possibly, convert to Kathallicism himself, as only the old king’s prejudice and its possible impact on his home-county relations stopped him when Kathalla first offered the suggestion.”

\tElaria nodded, sighing as she thought of her husband, “That’s all good, and no, Ronnel’s not useless... and he’s looking forward to this trip.  My father’s been taking care of our son since I got this assignment, and passing through the Vale would finally let us see him again.  I’m sure he misses us... and it’s quite, quite mutual.”

* * *

\tThe description of her friends’ circumstances... was confirmed the instant Serra stepped into the club, as well as the fact that they knew the changes their new king and his policies represented.  There were both foxes, nude save for jewelry this time, Fayette bent over a table, and Coram obviously, even blatantly, fucking her hard up the ass, his dusky shaft and bulging knot visible with each withdrawal before he thrust anew, and her tail well out of the way so, if only she had a better angle, the tigon would be able to see the stretched ring in question, as well as the source of several dribbles of moisture visible on the floor below.  Smiling despite the seriousness of her news, at their obvious enjoyment of not having to ‘behave’ anymore, she made her way to their table and took the chair directly across from the vixen’s panting muzzle, her breasts, bare of course, half-flattened against the surface.

\tFayette’s muzzle lifted in a greeting smile, but she didn’t have time to say anything before her eyes suddenly widened, a grunt of effort behind her drawing attention to her husband as he, slowly and very deliberately, forced his engorged knot against and into her already-wide anus.  As her ring clamped down again, just above his sheath, she sighed happily, “Ooh...  I love it when he does that, as much as it hurts at first.  It makes me feel... ooh, Goddess, like a vixen!”

\tThe tigon simply nodded with a smile, waiting the minute or two more it took for the fox to finish, one more peak on his wife’s part making her bosom shake against the table before he finally thrust in one last time, giving voice to his pleasure as he filled her rear with seed.  “That, your Excellency, looked like fun,” she finally answered.

\tStill a little foggy-minded from her pleasure and the gradually-shrinking knot and shaft still filling her, the count’s sister blinked, tilting her head, “Wha...?”

\tHalf-bowing in her seat, Serra elaborated, “That will be your proper form of address, should you accept the position I’ve been asked to offer you.  On the request of King Tyron I, and indirectly in the name of King Lachier II, as a Junior Agent of Drachath, I offer you the rank and role of Atherian Ambassador to Drachath.”

\tShe couldn’t help but grin as both foxes stared at her, dumbstruck, though whether it was from the offer or her own rank, she couldn’t be sure... until Coram breathed huskily, “An Agent!  That would certainly explain why you’re obviously far brighter than any ‘mere’ corporal!  Being ‘junior’... is somewhat beside the point.  Whatever the limitations, in your own way you still have the direct, personal authority of a king at need, and they don’t give that sort of rank to simpletons!”

\tFayette rolled her eyes, “Except in Keesanrel’s case...  He ruled adequately enough in years past, but this last batch of disasters are almost entirely his fault.  At least things worked out in the end...”  Blinking as she remembered a detail, she looked up at the tigon, “Didn’t our new king mention you in some sort of proclamation, in regards to the old one’s death, just this morning?”

\tNodding, Serra stood for just a moment and patted the dagger both of them recognized where it was sheathed at her hip, “I won’t be here anymore, in a day or two, so there’s no point in keeping secrets...  I, personally, gutted Keesanrel while he still lived, with this very blade, and it sliced through his flab like soft butter.  I must thank you again, for selling it to me.”

\tCoram winced, “I’m... not sure I’ll mention that to my father...  Here in the city, where we saw the carnage of Kees... the old king’s unlawful attack, we understand why he had to die, but out in the holdings they’ll probably never fully believe the whole story.  Other details, like the council declaring him insane, might get mixed up, so while it wasn’t really the case, as he wasn’t king anymore whether he accepted it or not, regicide isn’t something anyone would want to be involved with, even peripherally.”

\tGlancing over her shoulder as she eased off of his shaft, his wife mused with a smile, “Seeing that kind of complication, and its reasons, is just the sort of perception that any ambassador can only pray for in their spouse and confidant.”  She looked back to the feline, “I accept the offer you relayed, and I look forward to it.”

\tNodding as the couple returned to their abandoned seats, Serra smiled as well, “I’d hoped you would.  Skip morning court tomorrow, and report instead to the Consular General’s office at the same time court starts.  Your credentials and a travel budget will be waiting, and he’ll brief you on any additional details of your position that you need to know.”

\t“Good,” Fayette murred, then glanced around.  Spotting the filly who’d earned a purple dab on her collar for swearing on her hope of Kathalla’s heaven to serve with absolute integrity, and was thus trusted to handle the club’s money, she waved her over then directed, “Bring us a fairly decent bottle of wine...  We’ve got several things to celebrate tonight, and it’s worth the price.”

\tThe tigon interrupted before the slave could do more than nod, “Cancel that.”  She touched her staff tassel for emphasis, “Bring three glasses and the best wine the club stocks, sparkling if possible, two bottles if the vintage isn’t unique on the rack, and forget my discount as I can afford full price easily.  This will probably be my last night here, at least the last one with free time, and I want to make it... memorable.”

\tThe equine blinked hard, “Y-yes, ma’am!” and turned to hurry toward the kitchen.

\tHis wife simply arching a brow, Coram asked, “Just how much does a ‘Junior Agent’ make, anyway?  Your expressed need to save up for that knife, though I’ll admit that could have been a ruse while you were playing the part of a relatively low-paid guard corporal, and your current largess... don’t exactly mesh together.”

\tSerra shrugged with a lazy grin, “Not enough for the knife or the wine... but when I’m ordered to rob a manor’s office and take anything that looks valuable, and it turns out that the treasonous councilor whose office it was had stashed twelve pounds of platinum he’d gained from his spying... well, I get to keep it, after income tax and splitting it with my girlfriend and partner in crime.  A very heavy bag of Drachathian nobles arrived in the last diplomatic pouch, with my name on it.”

\tFayette’s eyes were almost impossibly wide, “You did that?  That’s... shit, I don’t know the coinage well enough off the top of my head, nor your exact tax rate... but even after splitting things, that has to be six to nine pounds of gold for one night’s work!”

\t“Counting the purse that my girlfriend picked up,” the feline mused, “though we didn’t bother to declare that as Lachier’s treasurer was already getting enough of a completely-unplanned windfall... about eight pounds of gold for my share, all told.  I can most certainly,” and she grinned, “buy my two good friends from Openheim a drink!”

\tCoram grinned toothily, “That you can... and let me know if you ever want an honest-to-Goddess sword just as sweet as that knife.  It would take two or three months to make and ship, and the price is so high that my da hasn’t made many of that quality in his life... but you know it’d be worth it.  As a repeat customer, and a friend of his only son,” and the fox winked, “he probably wouldn’t even bill you separately for the very special scabbard a sword that sharp needs, just to sheathe it without shredding the leather.”

\tSerra’s eyes closed as she shivered in her seat, a moist spot forming on her dress’ skirt at the mere thought of a sword like he’d described, and she opened them to slits as she promised, “I’ll... consider it.  Assuming that you follow your wife to Fariach, I’ll know where to find you if I decide that’s what I want to spend my little fortune on, as it could also be used for a great deal of fun spread out over years in clubs like this one.  I just need to figure out where my priorities lay, with so many enjoyable options ahead of me.”  Half-turning in her seat, with another faint shudder as her somewhat puffed-up labia were caressed by the motion, she eyed the lines of slaves, “Speaking of... enjoyable options...”

\tEven as she considered, that filly emerged from the kitchen, moving very carefully as she carried a silver tray with three glasses and two dusty bottles with labels that were clearly decades old.  Even the purple dab on her collar probably wouldn’t save her if she dropped something this expensive...  One glass wobbled as she slid the tray onto the table, and she breathed a sigh of relief as it stilled, then murmured softly into the tigon’s ear, “Nine nobles, two crowns, gold.”

\tSerra only barely hid a wince; she knew she could afford just about any luxury for the moment, but if that’s what ‘the best’ cost, she’d better keep it a rare treat or her fortune could be gone in a week.  Nodding, she fished around in her purse, only a bit heavier than usual since she’d left most of her cash in her room, and slipped the coins into that blunt-nailed hand under the edge of the table and out of sight of her friends.  She still didn’t understand why, but there was something of a social convention...  If something qualified for the old phrase ‘if you have to ask, you can’t afford it,’ it was considered polite not to reveal how much it did cost.

\tShe didn’t know enough about wine, at her age, to divine much from sniffing the loosened cork, so she splashed just a sip worth into a glass and knocked it back...  It wasn’t quite like any wine she’d ever tasted; in the terms used by some of the more snobbish courtiers she’d shared meals with, it was bold, peppery, and a bit tart, and it left her tongue feeling oddly warm, clearly stronger than her usual fare, and certainly acceptable even if it wasn’t as bubbly as she’d hoped.  Nodding with approval, she filled all three glasses and looked up to see Coram, escorting a buck deer about her age, in an unmarked ring-collar, back to the table.

\t“I thought we’d have our fun here,” he mused, “as the stage proper is hard to enjoy a drink on, and the bouquet of that vintage is exquisite, even from over here.”

\tA new, but intimately familiar, voice intruded, “I agree.”

\tSetting down her glass, the tigon spun on her seat and jumped up to hug Pria tight, “You’re here!  I’m... a little surprised, but very glad to see you.  Should I call for a fourth glass?”

\tThe wolf shook her head with a smile, even as she pulled out a seat for herself, “Nah, I’ll just share yours.  We’ve certainly exchanged spit often enough not to worry.  Anyway, what I told Lachier was true, I only have part of my family’s bloodlust... but I do have some, and it’s a matter of moods.  Tonight, just for the hell of it, I feel like less licking and more biting,” and her muzzle widened into a downright vicious grin.

\tThe stag, standing attentively nearby, gulped visibly, and simply closed his eyes, a grimace of profound dread flickering across his features.

\tPria noticed, and chuckled softly, then mused to her fellow citizens, “There are a few... pertinent details to my love life, that I haven’t mentioned or shown.  All my friend has to judge by is that I’ve had exclusively female lovers since we started working together, and that I favor Roxanarra spiritually.  I may prefer girls, but I certainly don’t mind men; every once in a while I hunger for the sort of stuffing that fingers or a tongue aren’t big enough for, but most hands are too big to render enjoyable.  I also have a Kathallic prayer I use occasionally...  It’s a rather large favor, so I save it for special occasions, and saving our home kingdom from an unwinnable war had better qualify...”  She bowed her head, and murmured, “Kathalla... please gift this slave... with Pola’s Pain.”

\tA spiritual chuckle reached all five gathered souls, *Of course, My dear.  I’d actually grant this favor far more often than you feel worthy of asking, as Roxy enjoys it each time I do, but I value too the respect you show, never asking My aid frivolously.  For that respect, I greatly value your devotion, minor as it may seem to you... and it is done.  Enjoy your evening.*

\tFayette blinked several times and asked, “What... is Pola’s Pain?  I’m... rather extremely confused, here.”  Her husband simply nodded, that same condition visible on his features.

\t“It’s nothing even remotely like what it sounds,” the wolf chuckled, reaching for the tray of condiments and utensils in the middle of the table, where she fetched an ordinary dinner fork.  Glancing up to the slave, she ordered firmly, “Come over here and hold out your arm.”  Her expression softened just a bit, “You’re probably feeling... a bit odd, but not bad...  Am I right?”

\tThe buck nodded as he moved nearer, “Y... yes, Mistress.  It’s almost like the one time my last owner gave me a glass of brandy, but... n-not quite.”  Still a bit reluctantly, he held out his arm, eyes half-closed and a wince on his features as he braced himself.

\t“What you are feeling... is those tiny aches, pains, and discomfort that come with every day of mortal life, the ones we hardly even notice.  After all, we’re used to them!  One very tiny, yet oh-so-profound, thing has changed, though.  You’re no longer capable of feeling pain.  Anything that would normally hurt... now causes a precisely-equal degree of physical pleasure, and that ‘good feeling’ that’s got you halfway out of your sheath already is those daily pains, transformed.”  The slave’s blink was of disbelief instead of dread, this time, but she proved it soon enough, grabbing his wrist with one hand then stabbing the fork’s tines into his arm a good half-inch deep with the other.

\tThe pointy, dusky pink that had been peeking out of his sheath swelled, a strong spurt of fluid dribbling out while it was still firming, a bit translucent for seed but the best his body could provide on almost no notice.  Another, whiter dollop followed, and several sets of eyes widened with pleased anticipation as that flesh reached a smoothly-tapered eight inches, its girth still expanding slightly as it hardened.  “That’s... ma’am... Mistress, this feels wonderful!”

\tPria nodded with a grin as she pulled the fork free and returned it to the table, reaching instead to gather a finger-full of his fluids to lick clean.  “It’s even better for a man,” she mused between licks, “as having one climax after another would normally be its own form of agony.  Not this time, though...  We’re going to cut you, rip you, bite out chunks of bloody flesh, and literally tear you apart... but you’ll probably be coming blood instead of seed, your shrunken balls having nothing left to give after such unimaginable pleasure, before you finally pass on to the Fanged Goddess’ heaven where you need never toil again.”

\tNodding eagerly, his eyes bright, the buck carefully climbed onto the half of the table not occupied by the wine, “Ooh... thank you, Mistress, and I wish you enjoyment of all my body has to offer!”

Chapter 10

\t“The origins of the Vivenge Empire were... a bit more tumultuous than most nations,” Elaria explained to her friends and family as they journeyed.  Unlike the trip from Crown Port, they were all together in the carriage this time.  Brathor, the somewhat grizzled bear at the reins, had been the senior NCO of the embassy and near retirement, but he’d fought as well as any of his troopers during the attack.  The thrust that had missed his lungs by barely an inch had been a painful reminder of his own mortality, though, and he’d wanted to retire in Unicorn Vale for as long as it had been open, so the circumstances of the day had offered an opportunity he’d leapt at.  “Very shortly after the Vale was created, the lord of the bordering barony killed his king and set himself up as an outright military dictator.  He only needed two thirds of his standing army to guard the borders and maintain order, and even one third being free for unrestrained offensive action was a decisive advantage.  Less than ten years after he’d finished conquering the lands that now make up the empire, though, his efforts to dispossess the defeated nobles backfired, and it was his turn to be assassinated.  The only remnant of his dictatorship is that his name’s still on the holding of his original kingdom, roughly the size that we’d call a duchy these days, and it’s still referred to on official documents as the Maurere Military District.”

\tThe other three travelers nodded, Ronnel musing, “As a serf, and well south of Dengar’s border with Vivenge, I heard very little like the history you describe... but, more than once, travelers on long journeys had much to say about the empire, mostly in terms of annoyance... except for those traveling from Vivenge, who expressed wonder and relief.  Almost certainly due to its size, the empire has many more layers of administration than we’re accustomed to, with citizens having to provide documentation, submit to records checks, and the like, just as part of their daily life.”

\tHis wife raised one finger in emphasis, “Exactly, but that only applies to civilian life.  If they had to go through their bureaucracy to fight a war, they’d have been conquered by any passing gang of bandits long ago.  Each holding of county size or larger has its own general, and they take their orders directly from the emperor, allowing for mobilization with minimal delays.  Even if they’re attacked from an unexpected direction while the bulk of the army’s elsewhere, exactly as we’re planning, they have simply enormous reserve forces, though overuse thereof would severely impact their economy.  You see, about two thirds of their male population serves a mandatory four-year enlistment, from ages fourteen to eighteen... unless, and this is the only reason they aren’t all soldiers, they can demonstrate a skilled vocation that service would interfere with.  A far smaller percentage of the population forms the permanent army, but on very limited notice they can raise a militia that actually has some semblance of effective training.  Permanent-posting local officers provide the command structure, and large stockpiles of arms at strategic locations cover the necessary equipment.”

\tThe girls on the other bench shared a wincing glance, Serra looking back to comment, “That... sounds pretty hopeless, on the surface... but you did mention an economic aspect.  All those farmers, carters, masons, carpenters... the people who stand at the ‘bottom’ of society, but who actually support it and make it work... they can’t risk losing them, can they?”

\tThe vixen nodded, smiling grimly, “That’s half of what might make this work, right there.  The other half, much like our initial plans for Atheria, is time.  We’ll try to spring our trap and issue ultimatums from a position of strength before they can gather forces from a broad area.  Despite its title as a military district, the capitol is actually their weakest point in terms of raw troops.  It’s where most of the ‘good families’ are, and thus the source of the bulk of their officer cadets, but it also sports the highest concentration of bureaucrats.  The ratio of commoners in their reserve to civil servants, the social elite, and outright aristocrats is lower there than anywhere else in the nation, and the number of surrounding, relatively defenseless farming communities is actually higher, just to feed the high-born.  Their central location, with better-defended holdings on all sides except that of the Vale, is their only real protection.  They could indeed raise a worthwhile force if they drafted every one of those farmers and the city’s laborers... but significant casualties among those troops would decimate the local workforce, possibly beyond recovery.  Mind you, I don’t want to slaughter those kinds of troops... but if the only way to get them to recall their east-bound army is to give them a choice between putting soldiers in the vegetable fields or starving their way through an economic depression, I’ll do it.”

\tHer girlfriend also looking a bit more optimistic as the hypothetical scenario was described, Pria nodded back, “As Keesanrel proved, we can’t count on a monarch being reasonable or even seeing reality objectively, but this sounds like we have an actual chance.  If they choose to fight, the ‘military district’ will be left on the brink of collapse, or possibly just over it, and we shouldn’t forget the empire’s early history either.  I’m sure they haven’t...  One of those generals in the east, with their standing army so convenient, just might solve the problem for us, and decide that their own emperor’s throne is an easier target than going through the entire Atherian army.  After all, it’s hard to love a bureaucracy, or feel great loyalty to it, and that’s the face of the empire most commonly shown to its citizenry, generals included.”

\tThe ex-ambassador quirked a brow, “Now there... is something I honestly hadn’t thought of, and it’s a good idea.  If we simply weaken them enough, you’re right, an internal insurgency is actually a fairly likely outcome.  Such a case would also give the general-turned-emperor in question something to worry about other than us; he’d need his army right where it was, to keep order and maintain his reign until it was firmly enough established to boast a semblance of legitimacy.  Thanks, sis; I’ll be keeping that in mind as the plans unfold into reality.”

* * *

\tElaria glanced west by the light of the rising sun, and had to take a moment from fastening her saddlebags to close her eyes and savor the memory of last night.  The inn called the Rainbow Sunset had been aptly named; just east of the Vale border, and sporting a large dining balcony facing west, it was perfectly positioned to catch the fading sunlight through the shimmering ripple of Malia’s Wall.  Moving as she did among the highest levels of secular and temporal power, it had been a long time since she’d felt the kind of sheer awe that view had inspired, and she and her husband had both murmured prayers of thanks to their mutual Goddess for the moving experience.

\tTurning away from her horse, she nodded at the sight of her sister finishing the check for anything they might have dropped or misplaced in the carriage, then glanced to the waiting otter in rough clothing, holding out a small pouch, “Here’s one Drachathian gold crown worth of local silver and copper to feed you on the trip... and when you hand over the note I already gave you at the embassy, they’ll give you three times as much in whatever currency you desire.  Just be careful with the note itself; if you break the wax, it’ll ruin the enchantment that proves it’s from me.”

\tThe farmer’s son nodded, grinning, “Not a problem, ma’am; I’ll keep it inside.  With only th’ one horse, it’ll prob’ly take me jus’ over a week, then two more fer th’ hike back, but won’t my da be surprised when I come back wit’ enough cash t’ get those two plow-horses we need, wit’ somethin’ left over t’ buy my girl a pretty.”  At her nod of agreement, he climbed up onto the driver’s bench and took up the reins, a light flick and a gentle tug urging the horse into a slow turn back toward the rising sun.

\tSix horses had been overkill for pulling the well-built carriage, but it left the family, their friend, and their guide free to ride on when the road ran out, while leaving one for the trip back to Atheria City.  The bear still looked a bit uncomfortable in the saddle, as he’d been born a far cry from the landed (meaning mounted) nobility and had spent his career in the infantry, rarely having anything to do with cavalry.  Since she was the only one still standing around, Elaria nodded to herself and climbed into her own saddle, “Let’s go, folks.  We’ll probably need to camp tonight, but the unicorn villages won’t be much farther.”

\tThe end of the town’s road was marked by a small guardpost, an apparent oddity until the vixen tried leading her party past it.  “Hold!” a surprised voice yelled from inside, and a moment later a white fox scrambled out, still adjusting his sword belt and badge.  White in more ways than one; he seemed to glow faintly from within, and Elaria’s eyes flicked past his junior lieutenant’s bars to fasten on the bronze casting of an open hand, symbol of an acolyte of Shattrathin.  “Pardon, ma’am,” he said more normally, “but I can’t let you pass.  The barrier up ahead would stop you soon enough, but it would kill that cat with you, and a couple of other souls in your group are also at risk... I think.  I must admit I haven’t ever seen anyone quite like you or that wolf before.”

\tSmiling, the priestess took one hand off the reins to tug open the neck of her traveling cloak, and she did her best to keep from smirking as the man’s eyes widened at her collection of necklaces.  “You do well to at least warn us, Lieutenant,” she replied, “but there are exceptions to every rule.  I’ve not yet asked Her specifically... but this won’t be the first time Malia has let me through Her wall.  That same time I passed, a Kathallic every bit as devout as my companion was equally welcome.  You see, I grew up in Unicorn Vale, and my first visit was before the border-crossing in Chraf even existed.  We’re... expected.”

\tThe fox blinked, “Before?  That was nearly twenty... oh, Gods!  A vixen and a Kathallic?  That would make Sir Ferrl, Vengeance of the Horned Ones, your father!  That story was part of my classes on inter-faith relations!”  He managed to recover some of his aplomb as he snapped to attention, then bowed shallowly, “Though I never thought to meet someone so famous... you, if anyone, have every right to travel this way, and I apologize for delaying your journey.”

\tSeveral of her companions chuckling softly, she sketched a salute as she nodded, “Like I said, you’re only doing your duty, and it’s a good and necessary one too.  Good watch to you, Lieutenant,” then nudged her horse into a walk toward that many-hued barrier in the distance.

* * *

\tThe border-crossing had involved a wry comment from Malia about assumptions, but Her tone had been amused, with an underlying sense of determination.  The Goddess of the Arts valued justice, and years of covert planning culminating in an unprovoked invasion wasn’t something She’d care to see come to pass.  It wasn’t the sort of thing a God would oppose directly, being a strictly mortal problem, but that didn’t mean She wouldn’t help one of Her mortals when they set out to do something about it.

\tBrathor was waiting for her, an odd look on his face, when Elaria crawled out of the small tent she’d shared with her husband; last night had been warm enough, but a light rain had also fallen.  “What is it?” she asked.

\t“We’re not alone, ma’am,” the bear began, obviously at something of a loss for words.  “Far from it...  When I’m on deployment, I’m never comfortable without a quick scouting foray in the morning, and when I climbed that hill ahead of us... are you sure the Drachathian army is still a duchy away?  Because there’s a pretty major encampment over there.  They’ve got sentries of their own, so I didn’t stick around for a precise count, but it’s more tents than I’ve ever seen in one place!”

\tBlinking away the last hints of sleep, she immediately changed her mental ‘hat’ to that of the army colonel she’d rarely needed to act as, “Girls!  Armor up and get your swords.  Ronnel, ready the horses to run if we have to.  Leave the tents; if this is a friendly force we’ll have time to pack them up, but if not they’ll only slow us down.  Brathor, show me!”  The small camp was very suddenly a buzz of activity, and she grabbed one of her own swords, still in her short nightgown and barefoot, as she followed the sergeant up the hill.

\tThe ground was still soft from the rain, and the hill wasn’t very steep; both soldiers moved almost silently, though as they climbed the noise of an army having breakfast gradually grew.  The bear pointed, and the vixen nodded wordlessly, heading for the indicated bushes where the land dipped slightly, then hunkered down without a thought about the satin she was muddying and crawled the rest of the way to peek through...

\t“Brathor, you’re a fine soldier, but this time you’re an idiot,” she hissed after one glance.  “I know it’s hard to make out details from this distance, but didn’t you notice that every single person in that camp has white fur?  It’s the unicorns!”

\tThe sergeant blinked, then grimaced, abashed, “I... didn’t think of that, ma’am.  I was too overwhelmed by the size of the force; there have to be two thousand troops there!”

\tChuckling as she backed out of the bushes, Elaria could only nod, “That there are...  Regular militia and Elite, that’s the entire army of the Vale.  In any case, they already know we’re here.  The Elite scouts wouldn’t leave a hill like this unchecked, and we’d never have seen a hint of them.  I did see, though, that the commander’s tent is on our side of the camp, rather than in the middle, and I recognize that coat of arms.  Long ears, a scrotum, and a boot; that’s General Dame Julara down there, their commander in chief.  Come on, let’s go tell the others not to worry.”

\tProperly dressed and packed this time, the five travelers rode up the hill and over, the colonel in the lead.  Even the well-traveled vixen had to hide a blink of surprise at their reception, though.  The sentries should have called out the moment they saw anyone; instead, each one, as they caught sight of the party, stopped their patrol to instead stand at attention, silently watching.  A few faint murmurs were heard, spreading the word, and soldier after soldier climbed out of their tents, lining the ‘streets’ of the small tent city, all rigidly erect and looking on with respect.  The two young rabbits flanking the commander’s tent flap, the only colored fur seen so far, stood identically, and finally Dame Julara herself emerged, her hand beating Elaria’s to a salute.  “Dame,” she acknowledged as they finally reined in within earshot.

\t“Dame,” her fellow Maliite knight nodded.

\tThe middle-aged rabbit moved closer, her stride slow, almost formal, then spoke again, “Colonel Dame Elaria... please dismount, though you needn’t kneel.”  When the vixen was standing just out of arm’s reach, she went on, “I received word of a... rather uneven fight, though the direction of advantage was other than expected.  One hundred fine soldiers in full plate, outnumbering your force by over two to one, yet they were annihilated, exactly forty-one falling to your blades, with eight more fatalities by your husband’s bare hands and far lighter casualties among your troops than anyone could ever expect.  You are, without a doubt, the finest warrior I have ever met or will ever meet, and by the standards of the Elite you should have my rank...” and her expression softened at the pained, half-panicked wince this elicited, and she hastened to assure her, “but you’d not accept it, and rightly so.  For administrative reasons if nothing else, I must continue to command this army that I personally dragged out of the dark ages.  Nonetheless, your prowess must be honored, and I promote you at this time to brigadier general and name you second in command of the New Vale Militia, in person or by proxy at your whim, as even I would never dare to give you another actual order.”

\tThe new general certainly hadn’t expected anything like this when she’d woken up... but a decade and change of formal situations managed to substitute for a prepared speech, and she nodded again, “I can only thank you for the honor you’ve shown me... and, at least for the near future, I will not delegate my command to a proxy.”  She looked around at the assembled army and raised her voice, “The palace guards whom I fought, the elite of their own land, were excellent soldiers... but never have I seen better troops than those of Unicorn Vale!  It would be my honor to lead the way as either a show of force to remind an entire empire that justice and fair play matter... or to crush their capitol as a painful and deserved object lesson if no other option remains.  I was born in Drachath, and the armies of my homeland will be here soon, but there is no other force I would rather take into battle than the one right here!”

\tSeveral unicorns in the rear ranks started cheering at that, quickly quieted by stern looks from their officers, but Julara overrode them, turning to face the massed warriors and shout, “Hail, General Elaria!”

\t“Hail!” the army yelled back as one.

\tTurning back to the newcomers, the rabbit waited for their ears to perk back up after being flattened by sheer volume, and looked up at the dark-furred fox, “Ronnel, priest of Malia... please dismount as well, approach, and kneel.  You may think that you played a relatively minor role in your wife’s mission to Atheria, but it has not gone unnoticed.”

\tBlinking, the fox scrambled down and glanced at his vixen... who simply nodded with an encouraging smile.  Sinking to one knee, he dipped his head respectfully, “Ma’am...”

\tDrawing her sword, the knight took one more step forward and touched the blade to his shoulder, “For your faith, for your support and useful suggestions, for your prowess, and for a fearless stand against an unjust attack with neither armor nor weapons to aid you...” and the steel kissed his shoulder opposite, “I dub you Sir Ronnel of the Maliite Order, the Swordless Knight!”  Sheathing her sword, she reached down to pull him up by his hand, “Rise, Sir Ronnel!”

\tThis time, no one bothered to hush the soldiers when they started cheering.

* * *

\t“The cart was the trickiest part of the plan,” Julara concluded her tale, “but it was worth the effort to design and build.  It looked just like any other prisoner transport, but the bars were on hinges and we didn’t bother giving it a roof.  All those bandits saw was a caravan like any other, with a few slaves along with the export goods they’d come to steal, and only the four obvious guards they expected.  It was... your kind of fight, since for obvious reasons the ‘slaves’ had to be naked, but there were plenty of weapons in the bed of that cart out of sight.”  She snorted around a smile, “My guess that the common folk, thieves included, had never heard the entire story about Ferrl’s triumph proved accurate.  They simply didn’t realize that any ‘unicorn slave’ except Ria had to be a fake.  They attacked, the cart walls came down, and that filly who’d enlisted as the first female besides myself in the militia’s history had just passed her lieutenant exam in the Elite the week before.  She and five good studs made mincemeat out of the gang, and the few who survived to run ran into four platoons of regulars she’d had sweeping around the sides of the route at a distance.  We lined the road from Chraf with their heads, and haven’t had a problem with bandits since.”

\tHer other companions chuckling along, Elaria nodded, “The scale may have been smaller, but that’s the sort of object lesson we’re on our way to deliver now, and it’s an effective one.  I’m glad to hear you’ve had more than paperwork and drill to keep you occupied, regardless.”

\tThe rabbit smirked, and gestured to the fawn and white figures riding to either side as her honor guard, “I’ve also had the twins to keep life interesting...  Things may not have worked out with their father, since he lusted after my muscles but actually only wanted a housewife, my duties souring things... but they’re growing up into fine soldiers, and I’m proud of them.”

\tThe vixen nodded again with a sigh, “I have a son too, these days... and I miss his playful scamper, his surprising questions, even the ear-piercing squeal when he gets a note wrong on his piccolo... but we’re almost to Silkmane, and the embassy’s not far beyond.  My whole family, except my brother the new proxy earl, is there.  It hasn’t quite been a month since I’ve seen them, but it feels like years.”

\t“Hoofstomp has certainly grown since we were first escorted into it, those years ago,” the commander chuckled, “but its change from a farming village to the national hub of trade, to say nothing of hosting three embassies, works in our favor this time.  Other towns have taken up the yoke of food production, so the old fields will be a perfect place to gather our armies for the final march.  Lachier modified your proposed plan somewhat since you left Atheria City...  There’d already been a hefty mobilization in Northlook, they and Rajai’s local troops moving at a forced march, so the first few battalions are already here, with brigades not far behind.  Soldiers in Gatuque, Crisom, and Fariach are spreading out behind them, to maintain Drachath’s security while roughly thirty percent of the standing army is elsewhere.  That’ll give us, oh, maybe forty thousand soldiers in total, including this motley lot behind us.”  One of the marching company commanders snorted behind her, and she grinned over her shoulder before continuing, “We’ve drafted a few farmers to set up facilities for about ten thousand troops, and scouts have already crossed the northern border, other labor cadres ready to build four main camps on Vivenge’s soil where they won’t be immediately discovered, and we’ll send each group along as the local muster-point fills up.”

\tSerra shook her head in mild wonder and commented, “This is... a lot more complicated than I ever really thought about, the term ‘army’ having been just an abstract.  I take back every bad thing I ever said about the ‘parchment-shufflers’ in my own city militia.  The logistics of a mobilization this size have to be horrendous, and I can only respect the soldiers who only command a desk, but who coordinate movement orders, arrange supply trains, and all the other million and one details it takes to keep a massive force fed, mobile, and healthy.”

\t“Just one more of the many things you’re learning on this trip,” Elaria agreed with a sidelong glance, then looked back to her commander, “Four groups sounds good.  We can keep enough distance between them to supplement the supply trains with foraging, including farm raids to prove we’re serious.  I think we should split up the Vale’s troops to match, too.  One short battalion for each of Drachath’s reinforced brigades, out in front as a visible sign of Malia’s tacit support, and we’ll give each of them a few of the Elite to serve as covert scouts and possibly assassinate a commander or two in a surgical night-raid... but I want most of the Elite at my own back.  We should be able to manage two full companies, if the roster’s anything like I remember it.”

\tJulara nodded firmly, “That’s a very sound plan, Brigadier.  The Elite currently consists of three companies divided into six platoons each, and we’ll trade out two platoons with regulars, making a short battalion with a special forces element in each group.  The exact mix of ranks will be a bit non-standard, but you probably already knew that.  Orders from you, regarding just how the troops in question are to be employed, should smooth things over with more conventional generals and colonels, since I seem to recall the king forwarding a message to your father, to the effect that the overall battle plan is to be yours no matter how strange it may seem.  Magic or no, you’re the de facto Agent on the scene, so like your role as ambassador, your words are Lachier’s.”

\tPria interrupted their shared nods and almost bloodthirsty grins to point out, “Silkmane’s coming into view now... and I see steam rising from around several large wagons.  I think it’s time to halt the column and have lunch.”

\tMore than one belly in the group rumbled, and Julara called over her shoulder, “Lieutenant Colonel Lindren!  Deploy by companies for a brief halt.  Get a latrine trench dug downwind, and send a platoon to each wagon at a time.  It’s time to eat!”

Chapter 11

\tA crystalline chime jogged Elaria out of her dreams, a warm body nestled against her side, and she savored its closeness before the sound repeated a bit louder.  Sighing, she carefully levered herself away from her husband, sitting at the small folding desk in the command tent and picking up the large piece of quartz that had been ringing.  A glance through the tent flap showed that it was almost, but not quite, dawn, but Fariach was far enough east for the sun to be up there.  Sure enough, as she set the crystal in its ornate base with several other stones and the sounds of breathing behind her faded, Lachier’s voice spoke within the privacy shroud, “I know I probably woke you, Ela...” and she had to smile.  Other than her father, given her various ranks and titles, he was the only man in the world with the rank and sheer balls to use her old slave name, and enough of a friend that she didn’t mind in the least.  “I haven’t gotten much rest, myself.  I was up half the night in polite argument with the Vivenge consulate, and spent the other half surrounded by bodyguards inside their embassy while I spoke to the emperor himself.  Officially, they don’t believe a word of it, and they’re not even consistent in their disbelief.  Drachath and Atheria were so close to being at each others’ throats that we couldn’t be allies now.  We killed their king, so we can’t be allies now.  The council can’t simply pick and choose a new king, so Tyron can’t possibly ratify a treaty and, you guessed it, we can’t be allies now.  There’s no clear route between us and their capitol, so our ‘threat’ is without substance.  My hint that Dengar would let our troops through their territory as a return favor for not raising a stink over Talaya was simply and flatly ignored.  The Atherian army has to be massed at the south to invade us, and they don’t know how we talked someone into building ‘fake’ army camps along the northern border, but our threat is still without substance.  If Keesanrel III is, indeed, dead, then his son Keesanrel IV, currently confined to the Atherian embassy in Maurere, must be the legitimate king, and if we do invade they’ll kill him.”

\tThe vixen’s muzzle worked, somewhere between amusement and disgust, “By now, their own spies have to be reporting that the Atherians are marching north; if they were as ready to move as they’d need to be to invade us, they’re at least halfway to the northern border by now.  That completely aside, if our threats are so empty, why would they need to make one of their own against the ‘legitimate’ king?”

\tHer liege’s voice was whimsical as he agreed, “I did mention a certain lack of consistency, didn’t I?  I tried to make exactly those points to the emperor, but he called off the meeting, claiming it was so far past midnight that he was in no fit state to make binding statements about imperial policy.  I, though, am still awake enough to understand what’s behind all of these excuses and conflicting positions.  Ela... they’re scared.  We, as a nation, have always been fairly reliably honest in our relations, and they have to know that Tyron’s demonstrated a similar bent in stark contrast to Atheria’s history.  I never actually said we were routing soldiers through Dengar, but they’re probably reinforcing that border anyway, which might take some of the heat off of you when you launch your little surprise.  Tyron’s scouts indicate that the army north of them is spreading out...  They’d been one mass before, for a simple march straight through to Drachath, but it’s obvious they’re taking the ‘threat’ seriously no matter the official position, and preparing for a broad front where both sides will attack any point that seems weak.”

\tNodding even if he couldn’t see it, his ex-ambassador reported, “We’re still waiting on a battalion or two from the east end of Northlook, but my father reported that they’ve entered the Vale and should be here within two more days.  We’ll give them one more day to rest after the march, which is about the time that our stockpiles will start running out and we’d have to raid and forage anyway, as the ongoing supply trains have to be limited to avoid discovery.  Since you were able to keep our actual route a secret, we haven’t seen anyone except a noble’s hunting party, and that was at a distance from our well-hidden sentry perimeter; all four camps are still covert and secure.”

\tShe got the impression that the king had nodded too, his voice grim as he agreed, “Good.  At noon of that third day, I will deliver a formal declaration of war to the consulate, and I’ll let Tyron know to repudiate his mutual defense treaty one hour earlier, and I officially release you and order you to begin operations on the fourth morning from this one.  Don’t ignore targets of opportunity, but your goal is the capture or destruction of the city of Maurere, and I’d take it kindly if you could avoid the mass slaughter of civilians or any other atrocities.”

\t“And what will our new ally’s timing be like?”

\t“Officially,” the ‘coon replied, a hint of amusement reentering his tone, “Atheria and Vivenge are still on the footing of friendly powers.  Tyron has that edict of renunciation I mentioned ready and approved by his council, to be issued whenever he deems fit, but he’ll try to stretch out the formal accusations and denials out long enough, even without a treaty, for word of your attack to reach the east.  While we, as the more distant party, can’t harbor any realistic territorial ambitions, my fellow king and I agree that Vivenge deserves a bit more than a bloody nose for this whole business of attempting to manipulate and then conquer both of our kingdoms.  At the first sign of demoralization or other trouble across his northern border, his entire army will simultaneously attack along the whole front, with the goal of nipping off a county or two of territory to permanently annex.”

\tIt was Elaria’s turn for a grim smile, sharp canines peeking out from her lips, “Good for him.  Ambition on behalf of one’s kingdom is not, by itself, a bad thing, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to go about it.  Let’s hope Keesanrel IV, if he survives this, can learn the difference.  For now, your Majesty, it looks like my husband is waking up, so I should get with my fellow brigadiers and coordinate for four days from now.”

\t“Thank you, Ela.  For everything.”

* * *

\t“You can’t be serious about this!” the immaculately-groomed lion in imperial robes and a heavy crown insisted.  More than just voices were being exchanged this time; at the emperor’s request, the imperial archmage had worked hard overnight, and both crowned heads could see and address each other through the smallish circles of glass that had been exchanged by diplomatic gate.  “We don’t even share a border; how could you even think to declare war, with no hope of carrying it out?!?”

\t“I’m as serious as the heart attack which killed my father, Surianel,” Lachier replied.  “My forces are already in place, four full brigades counting the entirety of our second ally’s army.  It’s not just Tyron and I who have a stake in this, you know.  The reason your spies haven’t been able to report conclusively on my troop movements is that we’ve taken the one route you never thought you could be attacked from.  The army co-mingled with mine... consists of unicorns.”  He glanced at a multi-chambered hourglass to confirm the time, then smiled benignly, “Now should be late enough...  Look out of the southeast window of your suite, your Imperial Majesty.  You should see smoke rising... from the farms around your city.  The farmers should be alive, unless some foolishly tried to resist, and well-kept as prisoners of war, but their produce and livestock are now my army’s property.”

\tThe emperor blinked helplessly at the darkened sky he could see from where he sat that very moment... then half-screamed, “Get me my generals!  The city’s under attack!” even as he grabbed the magical disc and threw it to the floor to shatter into a hundred pieces.

* * *

\t

\tThe city of Maurere had been built to impress visitors with its sheer, imperial magnificence.  The avenues were broad, often meeting in public squares with huge, ornate fountains.  Toward the center of town, tall buildings were limited in frequency so almost every street had a view of the majesty of the palace.  The outer walls were high and thick, and the gates ornately decorated... but both had missed the minor point of being militarily significant.  A walkway along the battlements was all they offered, less than a hundred desperate archers raining arrows on the four approaching columns from behind the shelter of blocks of stone, but the bulk of the invading forces had shields, held overhead, those in the front ranks holding larger ones in both hands.  Occasionally an arrow or bolt would find a gap and a soldier would fall, but there were always more to take their place, and lucky shots with crossbows from between shields were taking a marginally greater toll on the defenders, the pale gold stone streaked in several places with blood.  If the city had ever been designed for serious defense, those walls would be hollow, with frequent firing slits through which far more archers could fire from a position of safety.  The gates, too, showed their budget-conscious construction as the front ranks dissolved into a charge, dodging amidst the hovels of those too poor to live within the walls and attacking with axes, which bit deep into the light, well-preserved pine that supported the gilded imperial crest.  It would have cost a fortune, for each gate, to transport, assemble, and reliably hinge enough tons of hardwood to mount a credible defense, and the much softer reality gave way within five minutes, ragged holes chipped out over, and then through, maple locking bars.

\tElaria seethed inside at being unable to lead the invasion as personally as she’d hoped...  Julara had reminded her, and Lachier had confirmed it, that a general’s duty was to command, not to personally fight alongside their troops.  An honor guard of Elite unicorns surrounded her mobile command post, kept just out of arrow-shot and moving in small leaps as her front line advanced, and runners with tower shields held overhead came and went.  “Second brigade reports breach of the south gate!” one yelled as he neared.

\tThe vixen nodded and snapped to the nearest fresh messenger, “Tell them to hug the walls while they file through in unit order.  We haven’t seen any oil or pitch pots yet, so that will keep them safest from arrows, and tell them to spread out to all streets.  Brigade, regiment, battalion, company, platoon, squad; an even split at every intersection, kill anyone with a weapon in hand, but accept surrenders or I’ll have the offending unit flayed!”

\tThe runner, a unicorn this time and strong enough for heavy armor in addition to his shield, saluted, “Yes, ma’am!” and dashed off.

\tAnother one popped up almost immediately, “Fourth brigade reports breach of the east gate!”

\tElaria repeated herself to the next available troop, then stepped up to the two behind him, “You two, get to the first and third brigades!  Tell them to circle around and join their nearer comrades; I want to leave the north and west gates free for anyone who’d rather run than fight.”  She ignored the salutes, already turning to a fourth runner, “Make sure the prison camp is ready.  The company commanders know to stop when they reach the palace walls, and it won’t be long before I move to phase two and the guards and staff will need to be ready.”

\tThe expected flow of the battle was interrupted by the next message, “Second brigade, second regiment, first battalion, third company reports defectors.  They’ve had plenty of outright surrenders, but two platoons of city militia want to join our side!”

\t“Message to commanding officer, third company, first battalion, second regiment, second brigade,” she snapped to an earlier runner who’d caught his breath and rejoined the line.  “Kill them.”

\tThe soldier blinked, a bit shocked, then saluted and ran off.

\tRonnel looked a question at her, and she answered it with a sad sigh, “Battlefield defections... can never be trusted.  They’ve shown what kind of soldiers they are just by offering, and even if they’re sincere it’s the wrong mentality for any troop I want to command.  In all likelihood, they aren’t sincere, and it’s some clever lieutenant’s idea of a good way to get deep enough behind our lines to do some serious damage, and we can’t have that either.”

\tHer husband nodded, “I... understand.  It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but this is no duel with rules and honor.  This is war, and you’d be derelict in your duty if you weren’t as hard and cold as it takes to win with minimum loss of life.”

\tElaria simply nodded, blinked away a stray tear, then turned her attention back to the next runner who was rushing toward her.

* * *

\tTwo Junior Agents, the former ambassador, her husband, and half a dozen members of the New Vale Militia Elite walked down the deserted street, hands near their weapons and eyes alert for soldiers or even panicked citizens who might be intent on an ambush.  Each alley they passed brought a rush of noise; crying children, sobbing mothers, and the grim, half-numb tread of their brothers and husbands, carrying only what they’d been able to grab on no notice while marching down adjacent avenues lined with cold-faced invaders.  Whether they believed it or not, a hot, nutritious meal and as much comfort as could be offered under the circumstances awaited them at the prison camp, but all they knew this moment was that their city had been invaded despite imperial assurances of safety, and conquered in what seemed like an unimaginably short time.  Here and there lines of soldiers with buckets worked on dousing the flames of battle; fire had not been used as a weapon this time, but panicked commoners could be careless with lamps, candles, and hearths, and one squad per company had come prepared to make use of the public fountains and wells as soon as the fighting died down.

\tThe group rounded another corner, and Elaria had to smile to herself at the structure coming into view.  The walls around this small complex were a bit more properly made, spearmen patrolling the battlements while hard-eyed archers peered through narrow slits, arrows at the ready.  “Hello, the embassy!” she called as she neared.  “I am Brigadier General Dame Elaria of Drachath...  Is the ambassador still safe?”

\tOne of the doors in the stubby towers flanking the gate opened, and a cougar in the same armor as the rest of the guards stepped out onto the wall’s walkway, calling back, “I am he... and you have fifteen seconds to prove your identity or my archers will shoot.”

\tThe vixen blinked once, then hastened to reply, “I swear by Malia, Roxanarra, and Kathalla that I am who I claimed to be.”

\tA few more of those precious seconds ticked by as the cat awaited evidence of divine retribution... then nodded, “Well met, then, Dame Elaria.  I have heard... interesting tales about your time in my homeland, but I can bear you no rancor for them.  Reports from several different sources, many of whom rarely agree, made it clear enough; my father was insane, and brought his fate upon himself.”

\tRelieved for more reason than one, Elaria continued, “Tyron will be pleased that you survived, as he doesn’t want the crown that is yours by right of inheritance, and my own king will be pleased at your grasp of pragmatic reason that your father seemed to lose hold of in his final days.  I will not ask for entry at this time, nor demand that you leave your sovereign territory; it is enough for my comfort simply that you live and are not excessively ill-disposed toward the way events have unfolded.  I journey now toward the palace...  The common citizens of Maurere are presently detained, but will be released once my business there is done, either the emperor’s unconditional surrender, or the reduction of the seat of his power to flaming rubble.  My catapults are ready, stones and firepots alike, so please be prepared for a lot of very loud noise about twenty minutes from now if it proves necessary.”

\tKeesanrel shook his head, eyes wide, “I... strongly doubt that you will get the surrender you ask for.  This is but one city in an entire empire; he still has vast armies, which you’ve barely scratched, and he knows it.”

\tThe general smirked grimly, “I share your estimation of the man, but honor demands that I extend him the option.  If he declines it as we both expect, then the armies he’s summoned will return to find the city almost intact, most of its population unhurt and with their possessions unplundered, but the palace and central government simply gone, while my army will begin its march of retreat before the sun sets this very day, back across Malia’s Wall where no hostile force may follow.  I invite you, and any of your staff or guard who wish to accompany you, to follow the same way, as we anticipate a certain amount of... domestic upheaval, during which I can make no promises about your safety nor the sanctity of your embassy.  It will be some time before they have a government with which to conduct formal relations, and you still have a crown waiting for you at home.”

\tThe uncrowned king nodded slowly as he considered, then again more firmly, “I accept your offer on behalf of my entire delegation, for we are your allies, and after as stinging a blow as you have dealt, and will still deal, today, we cannot rely upon the conventions of diplomacy for our safety.  We shall pack everything vital, destroy what must not fall into unfriendly hands, and be on the march to join your forces within an hour.”

* * *

\tSurianel wrung his hands as he paced helplessly back and forth in his bedchamber, his collared concubines watching him nervously.  This was unheard-of!  Attacking a city, any city, conquering it, and retreating, all on the same day?!?  The demand that he surrender his entire empire to a force his armies could crush like a bug was unbearable!  That force, though, was here, while his army was several hundred leagues away.  Already, the nearest garrisons were drafting and arming those who’d completed their mandatory terms, but they couldn’t be here for another day and a half, even at a forced march that the peasants probably couldn’t keep up anyway... and the ten minutes he’d been given to decide were almost up.

\tNo, he corrected that thought, not almost, as a dot rose into the sky above his once-fine city’s walls, followed by more.  Those dots grew, time itself seeming to slow as he stared, unable to do anything, even to look away.  Quarter-ton boulders grew larger and larger as they neared, the first muffled booms of impact more felt through the floor than heard, and a few moments later a lucky shot crashed through the column between two windows with unimaginable force.  Two of his playthings splashed, reduced to little more than a red paste across the floor, the walls, and the faces of their fellow concubines, but the emperor had no time to mourn.  Following the boulders, from the same catapults and on the same trajectories, a second wave of missiles rose from beyond the walls, ones that trailed fire like comets behind them.  Five hundred pounds of pitch and naphtha were overkill, for one middle-aged lion and the three surviving girls in translucent silks... but they did the job.

* * *

\tForty thousand soldiers marched southeast toward the distant, rainbow shimmer of Malia’s Wall and safety, followed by wagons of looted foodstuffs, the groaning wounded, and nearly three hundred dead, half of them unicorns.  In the middle of that slow-moving mass, a smaller party paused at the top of a hill, turning to take one last look at the magnificent city with the cloud of oily black smoke rising from its very center.

\t“I can still hardly believe it,” Keesanrel IV murmured just loud enough to be heard over the steady march of feet to either side.  “When I first heard of Duke Urenhold’s treachery, and just which nation was behind it, I wistfully dreamed of such a sight... but this is no dream.  The emperor, his personal guard, every one of his chief bureaucrats, and a vast quantity of the records and documents so vital to an ongoing dynasty... are simply gone, having paid a fair price for what they tried to do to my nation.  Yesterday I was just an ambassador, struggling to find some negotiated settlement short of war.  Today, I suppose I’m a refugee... but within a few weeks, I will be a king, decades before I ever expected to inherit.”

\tElaria nudged her horse closer to his and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Not so long ago, I, too, was an ambassador struggling for peace... but that is a struggle which should only be pursued so far.  By my commanders’ best estimates, somewhere between three and four thousand people have died in this conflict.  If they are the last, if the generals at your northern border can be convinced that restoring their empire is more important than following the ambitions of a dead man, then it will have all been worth it.  Our dream of a negotiated, diplomatic settlement was unrealistic, given Surianel’s intentions to betray you, and trying too hard would have killed far more people in the long run as we settled into a full-scale border war.  I honestly think we’ve done the very best that we could reasonably hope for.”

\tThe cougar could only nod, and he lifted his chin with new steel in his eyes as he turned away for the last time and nudged his mount into a walk.  “On a somewhat more pleasant subject... what became of Lylae?  I’m not much older than she is, after all, and it would be... nice to see her when she’s not legally my mother.”

\t“You’re too late on that score, I’m afraid,” his new friend chuckled.  “She seduced Tyron and, since he proved much more pleasant in bed than her ex-husband, promptly married him.  She’s actually very bright and perceptive; hell, the fact that she managed to hide just how bright she was from the old king for so long should give you a good idea how smart she really is!  She’s proving to be a very good queen, but will cede that title to your own consort when you’re crowned.  Tyron, incidentally, strongly urges that you appoint her to the council, as she’s proven quite useful for her insight as to how any particular law or decree will affect the low-born, or the churches, having recently been promoted to the rank of acolyte in Roxanarra’s faith.”

\tKeesanrel blinked hard, “She’s Roxanite?  Sheesh... that cousin of mine is one lucky bastard.  I simply thought she was a tavern wench who got lucky, both for marrying into nobility and for being blessed with... well, you’ve seen her!”

\tBoth of the Agents giggling merrily, Elaria nodded, “That I have, and I can only agree.”  At a faint cough behind her, she rolled her eyes heavenwards and said with amused exasperation, “Alright, I’ll ask him!” and fixed the somewhat confused cat with a firm look, “Since you’ve just implied that you don’t have a consort... well, one of my honor guards would like to offer, and since she’s a count’s daughter your council shouldn’t object too much.  I know her fur’s a bit confusing, but for the record she’s a tigon, a crossbreed sired by a tiger upon a lioness, and she stands a good chance of being fertile with almost any of what we call ‘big cats,’ cougars included.  Her breasts may not be as big as Lylae’s, but she’s not exactly ugly, and she’s certainly interested.”

\tThe prospective king blinked, then glanced back over his shoulder, looking the armored teen up and down... then jerked in place as his memory made a connection, “That’s Serra, isn’t it?  She matches the description on a royal pardon I got an information copy of... a pardon for regicide.”

\tSerra looked a bit abashed as she spoke up, “Well, yeah... I did kill your father, but it wasn’t really anything personal.  Well, almost; I really didn’t like the way he hit Lylae.  Still, I rather enjoyed his spines for the brief time they were in me, and you’ve got almost as much muscle as he had fat.  I’ve been having too much fun playing around to seriously consider settling down, before now, but if I were to settle on someone...  Crowns aside, you’re quite simply my type.”  The wolf riding alongside her pouted cutely, and she glanced over with a smile, “Well, one of my types...  If you do turn out to want me, I’d have to ask that we get married in the Roxanite tradition, because I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up girls yet.”

\tKeesanrel nodded slowly as he considered the unexpected offer, then glanced pointedly around, “I can’t say yea or nay right now, nor even tonight...  Let’s wait ‘til we’re not in the middle of an army on the march, then... well, I’m not king yet, so in theory I’m free to dabble as I please.  I would, indeed, like to share a bed with you sometime, as you’re lithe, strong, and altogether lovely, but that will have to wait ‘til we have a bed, not a sleeproll in a tent.”

\t“Five or six years ago,” Elaria chimed in, “the very first temple to someone other than Malia was raised in the Vale... and it’s to Roxanarra.  As Her priestess, I can see to it that you get a very comfortable bed indeed, on our way through Silkmane.”

Chapter 12

\tHis embassy guards and staff having set up a comfortable camp just outside of the village, a small horde of unicorns immediately descending with steaming dishes that far surpassed the expected travel rations, Keesanrel climbed down from the saddle at the stable just across from the most impressive building he’d ever seen, Vivenge’s imperial palace included.  It wasn’t just the size that caused that judgment; rather, the entire structure was effectively a statue, a nude, impossibly buxom vixen rising sixty feet into the air while seated on an ornate throne, and that throne itself was very deep, forming a four-story building, a bit wider than most shops or houses but extending a solid city block back between the adjacent structures.  The statue’s legs were spread, and a long staircase of polished marble rose up between them, the main entrance in the expected, obscenely-detailed spot.  “That,” he breathed to the man and three ladies he was with, “is what I call a temple!”

\t“Unicorns are damned good at what they do,” Elaria agreed.  “In fact, that’s actually two temples.  There’s a back door, you see, with a discreet pair of steel fangs above it.  Relatively few unicorns are of that faith, but Kathalla played a large part in laying the foundation for the prosperity the Vale currently enjoys, so Her sisters allowed a small shrine and playroom where anyone who’s likely to take offense would already be offended, so it’s entirely their loss.”

\tThe rugged cat nodding and still eying the huge carving’s details, Serra mentioned a bit uncomfortably, “That’s... actually my religion, I suppose I should mention.  For just a night of fun in bed, it shouldn’t even matter, but I don’t want to ruin my chances with you by starting things off on a deceptive footing.  In fact, I should probably also tell you that I’m a Junior Agent of Drachath.  I’ll never go any higher, as I’m no mage, but... there you have it, my only two big, bad secrets.”

\tKeesanrel turned to look at her anew, blinking...  “If we do get together, you’ll have to give that job up...  Drachath and Atheria may be on fairly cordial terms right now, but there’s no telling how long it will last, and potential conflicts of interest must be avoided.  Still, you wouldn’t be any sort of Agent unless you had a rather unusual set of very high skills, and no king can afford to turn up his nose at such.  With the appropriate oaths, should we prove compatible, I’d be quite obligated to beg you to accept a similar position on Atheria’s behalf.”

\tPria giggled merrily, “That would be... unique.  The queen herself, a burglar and assassin?  Not many nations can claim the like, even with all of history to draw from!”

\t“It would certainly lead to a remarkably well-behaved kingdom,” the tigon mused.  “Back in my hometown, I specialized in arranging rather... messy accidents for anyone who worked contrary to our goals and reputation.  Duke Urenhold is currently in custody awaiting trial for treason, but if this were Stonecliff, he’d never live to see a magistrate.  I’d probably fake an ‘escape attempt,’ and pass him through the bars of his cell window, one small piece at a time.”

\tKeesanrel arched a brow, his muzzle slowly spreading into a smile, “Do you have to go straight back to Drachath?  I’d be happy to provide you with maps, a good horse, and a heavy purse of gold if you could do exactly that...  I don’t take kindly to treason on any day, but the way he was trying to set us up for conquest just plain pisses me off.”

\t“I’d have to get Lachier’s permission...  We still have the communication crystal he sent into battle, but I’d rather not bother with it tonight.  It’s much more pressing a matter that we find as good a meal as your cohorts are enjoying in their camp, and that you make one simple decision for the rest of the evening...  Which temple should we go to?”

\tThe cougar blinked yet again, then laughed in spite of himself at how odd his recent life had been, one surprise after another.  “Let’s find a meal... then try the back door,” he finally decided.  “You’ve shared several rather personal secrets with me, so I suppose I should return the favor.  I’ve always had certain... urges, that I’ve done my best to suppress since they’re ‘unbecoming of a king,’ even if I wasn’t expecting to be such for many more years.  There was even a bit of a scandal, when I was fourteen, involving a baron’s niece and my ‘failure’ to properly restrain my instincts, when I bit her scruff hard enough to draw blood.  The taste, on top of the lust of the moment... that was the best climax I’ve ever had, though she needed a healer afterwards.  I’m finally going to be a king, so propriety and appearances will be even more important... but not for another week at the very least, and that’s assuming a fast carriage awaits on the other side of the border.  After so many years of denying my deepest nature, and with the prospect of even more ahead of me... tonight, I’d love to indulge myself just one last time.”

\tDrawing near, Serra wrapped her arms around one of his, nestling his bicep in her leather-armored cleavage as she nuzzled his shoulder, “It might not be official yet... but I think, for the rest of our trip, I’ll treat you like the king you’re to be.  In many ways, I already respect you very nearly as much as I do Lachier... your Majesty.”

\t‘Her’ king, however unofficially, slipped his arm around her waist, but just a tiny bit too far down and back, effectively cupping the edge of her ass rather than her strictly-proper hip.  “Let’s... go eat, my dear.”  With her head on his shoulder the whole walk to the town’s lone inn, from whose kitchen most of the embassy’s meal had emerged, she could feel and hear his faint, constant purr.

\tWell-fed and content despite a lack of meat, which wouldn’t hurt the carnivores for the few days it took to pass through the Vale, Serra and Keesanrel stepped through the back door of the temple, the tigon unsurprised to find a shallow landing and a set of stairs leading deep underground.  “This is pretty standard for an actual place of worship,” she told her date.  “The temples of Kathalla you’ll find above ground in kingdoms that permit them... are the next best thing to fakes.  They’re mainly used for tame enough sermons, except on official, nation-wide holidays when religion as a whole is granted greater indulgence than usual.  The real fun tends to occur in underground ‘playclubs,’ that only the faithful know how to find, except in Atheria City where it’s a major attraction of the Drachathian embassy.”  Opening the door at the bottom of the stairs, she peered around the chapel, lit only by two small oil lamps, and called, “Hello?”

\tA surprised, “Oh!” echoed down a hallway, further muffled by its black curtain, and a few moments later the cloth was pushed aside by a unicorn mare just a bit older than either of her visitors, dressed as any other temple-keeper the tigon had seen except that her cowl was down, probably because her horn got in the way.  “Welcome to the House of the Fanged One!” she greeted them in a bright voice.  “My name is Berria...  Did you come for a sermon, or to play?  I get so few visitors that I don’t even bother to schedule a regular service, but whatever you desire, I can probably improvise!”

\tThe cougar chuckled, “I can understand that...  To answer your question, my friend and I would have joined the rest of our party upstairs, and we’ll probably engage in some similar activities down here, but I’d hoped to taste blood at some point as well, without it being hers.  To return your courteous introduction as well, my date is Serra, a Junior Agent of Drachath, similar to the Sir Ferrl you’ve probably heard stories about, and once a few formalities are out of the way, I will be Keesanrel IV, King of Atheria.”

\tThe priestess’ eyes were very wide by the time he finished, and she curtsied deeply, “My humble temple is beyond honored, your Majesty.  It’s... tricky to get slaves at all out here, so I keep one male and one female, with a wait of several days if one is killed, but it’s been a week since one of the Kathallics in Hoofstomp came by so we’re as ready to please as we ever are.”

\tNodding, the king glanced at his date then decided, “My prospective lover here has admitted to being thoroughly bisexual... but I can’t make anything close to the same claim.  Fetch the female, please, and please let me know whether your visitors ‘play’ on the altar there, or if there’s another room for such.  The male, you might want to send off to whatever contact handles new purchases, as I doubt his fellow slave will live to see another sunrise.”

\t“Speaking of purchases,” Serra interrupted, reaching for her coinpouch and grinning up at her friend, “Duke Urenhold’s brother was rich.  Then his office was ‘mysteriously’ burglarized, and now I’m rich.”  She fished out three Drachathian gold nobles and held them out to the filly, “This should cover the replacement you’ll soon need.”

\tNodding, the unicorn accepted the coins and dropped them into a pocket of her robe, “That it will, and a bit more besides.  Even with only three mouths to feed, and the same volunteers as help with Roxanarra’s temple handling maintenance and repair, outright donations are fairly rare, and just that much more appreciated for it.”  Glancing to the other feline, she smiled, “To answer your question, your Majesty, this basement has the same square footage as the temple above, so we’ve plenty of rooms for a variety of purposes...  My quarters, those for slaves and larger than we’ve ever needed, an excellent kitchen, lodging for more priests if we ever need it, and three chambers for sacrifices.  One with a stage and pews for shows that’s never seen use, and two more, both with dining tables, one with a bed enchanted to resist stains, and the other with several bondage racks.”

\tNodding, the cougar replied promptly, “The one with the bed should do nicely.”

\tThe filly having simply nodded back and gestured for them to follow as she pulled the curtain aside again, Serra clarified, “Just in case you missed the implication about a kitchen and dining tables... it’s something of a tradition to eat the slaves when we’re done, if only to reduce what needs to be disposed of, and to render it less recognizable as the remains of a sapient biped.  As well-seasoned as it was, that vegetarian dinner we had doesn’t have to be our last meal of the evening.”

\t“Sex... blood... and some properly filling meat,” he mused.  “This night just keeps getting better and better.”

\tFlashing the pair a surprisingly vicious grin for its blunt teeth, the priestess gestured toward a door, “Step inside and make yourself comfortable.  I’ll be back shortly with your... meal,” and they all grinned a bit wider at that, “and send her roommate off on an errand as suggested.”

\tTo the cougar’s very pleased surprise, his date didn’t immediately sit when she reached one of the room’s three medium-sized, round tables.  Instead, she set about undoing the straps and buckles of her thick leather armor, letting the front, back, and skirt fall without a trace of modesty, and she hadn’t worn a thing beneath them.  She flashed him a low-browed smile as she sat to start working off her boots, her raised and bent leg offering a tantalizing glimpse between her thighs, and purred, “It’s neither a rule nor an explicit tradition... but not many people bother with clothes in a Kathallic playclub.  It’s hardly an issue at one as ill-attended as this one, but normally you tell patrons from prey simply by the collars or their lack.  I’ve never been to a playclub that wasn’t adequately heated, or cooled at the height of summer, so why let anything get in the way of my fun?”

\tKeesanrel shut his mouth with a soft snap, and took a moment to wipe a fleck of drool off of his chin.  “I can’t fault your logic,” he agreed as he started working free the ties of his doublet and the blouse beneath, “and I definitely won’t complain about the view!  Dame Elaria calling you ‘not ugly’ was... something of an understatement.  You have the lines and fur of a pure lioness, but those dark brown stripes lend an... exotic touch I’ve never quite seen the like of.  Unless the council raises an objection I cannot dismiss, or unless you find the life of a queen too stifling during your more formal appearances, at this point I’m finding your proposal very, very attractive.”

\tSerra had to duplicate his jaw-snap and drool-wipe as he pulled off his blouse, “Damn... that loose cloth didn’t do justice to your pecs!  I’d thought that uniform I first saw you in was a statement of humility... but, no, you could hold your own with trained soldiers, strength-wise.  I hope your duties as king still let you take time for exercise, above and beyond what you’ll get in bed with me, because you couldn’t be farther from that tub of lard I eviscerated.  Even if you were a stable’s dung-sweeper, I’d want to bed a body like that!”

\tHer words were lent an extra bit of truth by the faint but growing scent of her arousal, and he kept the corner of an eye on her as he dropped his belt and slid down his pantaloons.  He was only half erect but already firming up, and he hid a smirk at the way her eyes suddenly brightened.  He’d never before had reason to see his father naked, much less aroused, but had heard certain rumors from maids who’d found themselves alone with their king, and it was satisfying to know that he hadn’t inherited that deficiency from the man.

\tThe felines were eying the bed speculatively, but before either could voice a suggestion the door opened again, Berria entering with a chinchilla following at the prescribed pace and a half behind.  The rodent’s large eyes were wide with more than a hint of fear as she spotted the obvious carnivores, but the very fact that they were as naked as she, save of course for her red collar, lent a gleam of anticipation as well, as to her mind they’d not have bothered to disrobe if simple slaughter were her fate.  “This is Jae,” the unicorn introduced her charge.  “She’s an average domestic with token training in pleasure, but she went unsold for several auctions in a row, simply for being offered toward the end when most serious buyers had already found someone to fit their needs.”

\tBoth cats nodded, the male tilting his head in brief thought before suggesting, “Jae... please lay down in the middle of the bed.  My prospective fiancée, or so I’m led to believe, would probably enjoy licking you while I take her from behind.  The honored priestess,” and he sketched an abbreviated bow to the mare, “can either watch or enjoy your oral efforts, whichever fits her desires better.  This is the first time for me, where any spilled blood will be something other than an accident, so I make no claims or decisions how your end may come... but, for honesty’s sake, I must say that I strongly doubt you’ll survive the night.”

\tEven as the slave moved to obey, Serra smirked at her date and knelt down to her discarded armor, “I have an idea on that front...  Tell me, your Majesty, what do you think of this?” and held out her folded steel dagger, balanced non-threateningly on her palm.

\tThe king’s eyes widened briefly, then shut even as his cock twitched, “That... is beautiful!  I’ve seen my share of well-made, ornate blades, and just as many simple, functional ones, but that, there, is the best of both worlds.  So simple... yet so thin, so elegant...”

\tHis date chuckled, “It’s also, I should note, the knife that killed your father.  Well, cut him open anyway; he’d have died eventually from it, but my tearing out his heart with my bare hand sped things along nicely.”

\tKeesanrel shook his head, opening his eyes as he laughed softly, “A better death than an insane wife-beater deserved, I say.  What I can’t say, though, is that I’ve ever seen a sharper-looking blade.  Whatever you do to yon chinchilla with it shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as she’s looking afraid of.”

\tThe tigon glanced over to where the rodent was laying on the bed, in the middle as directed and with her legs spread, but her throat was working visibly as she tried to swallow her fear.  “Dear,” she half-purred, “don’t worry so much.  Yes, you will hurt and you will die, but there will be pleasure, too, and unless I’m so far gone as to forget my prayer of dedication, you’ll emerge into an afterlife with your memories intact.  Your body will die tonight, but you won’t.”  She barely managed to hide a wide-eyed look of surprise, the next moment... and even for that, she had help.  There was a second presence behind her eyes, and she got the strong impression that no prayers were actually needed.  Kathalla Herself was with her, mentally, and very nearly as eager to begin the festivities as she.

\tThere had definitely been enough talk, so she wasted no more time, padding over to the bed and kneeling down to rest her elbows comfortably on the mattress with her knife set conveniently to one side.  The rodent before her still didn’t look particularly happy... but the puffiness and faint hint of fresh moisture at her sex didn’t exactly shout disinterest, either.  Leaning just a bit farther forward, Serra stretched her tongue out to brush just its thin, almost rasp-free tip up the length of the folds before her.  The second such stroke elicited a quiet, pleased sigh higher on the bed, and the legs flanking her face shifted, spreading just a bit more to welcome her touch.  Even as she moved with the suggestion, finally bringing her rasps into play against that sweet, salty flesh, she felt another pair of calves brush her own, and the next moment the pointy tip of Keesanrel’s cock was brushing up and down between her rumpcheeks, just barely touching her own lips at its lowest point.  The suggestion was obvious, and quite welcome, but she hadn’t remembered to use the privy before this visit.  ‘Crud,’ she thought.  ‘Kathalla... could You...?’

\t*Of course, My dear,* that presence in her mind replied, and the next moment the faint pressure in her bowels disappeared.

\t“Kees...” she purred, still close enough to her own ‘meal’ that her breath made the slave squirm a bit.  “Go ahead...  I’m clean.”

\tThat pointy tip dipped down one more time, parting her lips and swirling around the outer reaches of her depths, obviously gathering moisture as its owner mused, “Gods... you’re the first girl I’ve had who didn’t freak out at the mere suggestion, or whom I didn’t have to practically beg to try it...”  Strong hands gripped and spread her rumpcheeks, and a point of coolness touched the puckered flesh between, quickly graduating into a steady pressure that parted and stretched her ring, and she lost her own lapping rhythm for a moment as she consciously relaxed and welcomed him in.

\tLifting her head, Serra took a moment to splay the slave’s lips with one hand and slip two fingers of the other in, pressing gently until they were well-moistened by the walls around them, then starting a steady rhythm of thrusts, fingertips curling upwards at the end of each, just to hold the rodent’s attention as she mused to the man behind her, “I may be... ooh, young, but my mother actively, mmm, taught me about all sorts of things, once she was sure I’d, oh yeah, I’d inherited her libido...  Just keep doing that, your Majesty, and, mmm, please, just a bit more of a tug on the outstroke, so your spines hit my ring...”

\tHis reply was lost in the sudden squeal that erupted when she dove back in to wrap her lips around the chinchilla’s hood, her tongue lapping hard and directly at the rigid nubbin therein.  She continued to suckle, licking just around the edges after that one intense stroke, as she worked a third finger in beside the other two, and the slave beat her to climax by five seconds.  That spined shaft filling her rear teasing the inner edges of her stretched anus delightfully with dozens of tiny, sharp, flexible points was enough, and droplets of rodentine fluids flew as her head whipped up and she yowled.

\tKeesanrel had been near his own peak when the slave’s squeal added a sympathetic pleasure to his own, and the sudden clenching of the ring and passage around his manhood were enough if he let them... and he did, his own, low growl of ecstasy filling the room’s heated air even as his seed filled that warm, slick hindside.  His eyes fluttered open again at the sensation of Serra pulling gently off of his shaft, a pleased hiss marking the passage of his spines, and his gaze had to follow hers as she looked past him with both brows high.  There on one of the chairs was the half-forgotten priestess, the bottom of her robe bunched up around snow-white thighs as she masturbated, her eyes tightly shut as she finally joined her guests in climax with a loud nicker.

\tThe tigon chuckled throatily, “You might want to open your eyes, Berria...  It’s time for the next step,” even as she picked up her knife.  Jae’s eyes were closed too, her pert breasts rising and falling as her breathing gradually returned to normal, clearly savoring the afterglow of her pleasure.  Once her prospective mate and the unicorn were both watching, Serra waited just another second for the slave’s belly to dip with another inhalation, and her hand moved like a blur, ending with the blade hovering between dusky pink nipples, a single drop of blood at its tip.  The rodent’s huge eyes fluttered open as she felt something, the swirled steel too sharp for instant pain... but the moment her diaphragm relaxed to exhale, she screamed, her belly suddenly afire as the clean cut split open, entrails glistening before disappearing behind a layer of blood.

\tBerria’s eyes closed back to slits, a shiver running from hooves to horn as she savored the sight no one else in her entire species, to the best of her knowledge, enjoyed, and her voice was husky as she murmured, “Excellent cut, ma’am, for placement and timing alike.”

\tSerra nodded with a toothy grin, “I’m rather proud of it, thanks...” then glanced up, “Kees?  As useful as that slash will be to clean her for our late-night snack, I don’t intend to make her suffer through complete disembowelment...”  Straightening, she fluidly slid onto the bed to one side and cupped Jae’s chin, lifting it to bare her throat as her other hand worked the collar off, “If you care to... finish her, and satisfy your taste for blood at the same time.”

\tThe chinchilla’s big eyes widened further as she cried, but the part of her mind still working realized that it would mean a quick end to her agony, and she forced her way past the pain to half-whimper, “P-please... Master...”

\tChuckling softly to himself, the cougar nodded as he climbed onto the other side of the bed from his lover, “Alright, to both of you.  If anyone wants to pray about this sacrifice, now would be a good time,” and leaned down, jaws opening wide.  Those sharp feline teeth half-enfolded the rodent’s whole neck, and he bit down slowly, but very hard, tearing and crushing well past the first spurt from ripped jugulars, then simply chewed the big bite of raw meat and fur as jets of hot crimson splattered against his muzzle.  Swallowing, he indulged in just a slurping lick or two at the liquid bounty before him, then sat up with a very red, very satisfied smile as he watched the shuddering form slowly grow still.

\tA thought that was not quite her own prompted Serra, and as she started lengthening the cut on the corpse’s belly to properly clean her, she mused conversationally, “I did not, as it turned out, need to pray for dedication tonight... because Kathalla has been with me since Jae climbed onto the bed, watching through my eyes.  I get the very strong impression that She’s interested in having two royal lines among Her faithful.  The already-generous alliance shared by Drachath and Atheria could work even better, and far longer, if you and Lachier have that in common.  All She asks is that you tell Her you’re Hers, and in the future you occasionally have a little more fun like we just did.”  She lifted a bloody finger as his eyes widened, “I assure you, She doesn’t make this kind of request frivolously, or blindly to the possible complications.  You’re probably thinking of all the people who’d object, possibly even to the point of trying to have you killed, or that your priestly cousin might refuse to relinquish the crown when he sees your soul...  She’s already considered all of that, and it will work out.”

\tThe cougar shook his head, in wonder rather than denial, “That much, I know...  No God or Goddess makes promises They can’t keep.  With that sort of guarantee, and with how much I enjoyed my ‘self-indulgence,’ what else can I really say?  Kathalla, I am Yours, though I can make no such promises about my dynasty as a whole.  Any children I have with Your beautiful follower here will be free to make their own decisions, though I still heartily thank You for the offer that counters my earlier disappointment that tonight would be the last time I got to do something like this.”

\tThe sense of a presence in Serra’s mind faded, even as the Goddess’ voice resonated against three souls, *Those are, to put it most simply, some of the reasons I chose to ask you.  I’d prefer to be served by a good king, with a fine mind of his own, as well as one who’d genuinely enjoy that service... and I’d have warned off My devotee were you to be a bad husband or a bad father.  Carry on in My service and with My blessing.*

\tHis now-official fiancée grinned as she started pulling intestines into a pile, “Looks like you’ve got yourself a queen, my muscular lover...  Now, even if it’s just a means to the end of our upcoming snack, playing with this girl’s guts is making me horny all over again, so why don’t you crawl behind me and get a little practice in making those babies you’ll raise so well?  It’s still two months ‘til my cycle and our need to decide whether or not it’s time for an heir, but I can’t help noticing that the taste of blood got you hard again, and it’d be a shame to waste it.”

\tSparing a moment to shoot an amused look at the giggling priestess, Keesanrel nodded as he crawled around the pool of blood surrounding Jae’s head, “Hike that tail up, dear, because here I come.”

Epilogue

\tLachier shook his head as he watched the two felines, one crowned and cloaked, the other in the sparkling tiara of a queen, and murmured to the ladies on either side of him, “What am I going to tell her parents?  Sure, in one sense this couldn’t be anything but good news... but they thought she’d just be gone for a few months, then return, more experienced and a bit wealthier perhaps, but still...”  His entire corner of the throne room, full of pews as it doubled as a chapel for the special occasion, was an almost solid mass of soldiers, though they represented less than a quarter of the escort that had seen him safely from Northlook to Atheria.

\tThe ‘coon next to him shook her head with a giggle, “Just tell them the same thing I told my mother when she wore out my patience and I blurted out the truth...  She’s found a man who’s a great fuck and happens to be rich, too.  That shut up Miss Prissy Pants quick enough, but from what I’ve heard of Verona she’d get a good laugh out of it instead.”

\t“Jessela is right about the countess,” Elaria quietly mused from the other side, then grinned, “and about you, too, your Majesty.  I know we only screwed twice, but I enjoyed both times.  In any case, I’ll have a bit of explaining to do to my father when I head back to pick up my son.  Pria wants to stick around, to become a full-fledged Agent of Atheria as well as Serra’s live-in girlfriend.  They were planning... there!  Did you hear what Tyron just asked her?  It was almost exactly the usual, local phrasing, but he left out just two words that would have been an oath of monogamy.  Our Goddess chose very wisely, encouraging those two to get together.”

\tThe king nodded, smiling, “Wise in so many ways...  The historical ‘bad joke’ of our international relations... can now be history, and stay that way.  It should be centuries before we have to worry about our northeast border’s security, which is a good thing since I’ve been hearing some disturbing noises out of Letarr recently.”  He glanced over at the vixen, “Care for another ambassadorial post?  After the rather amazing job you did at this one, you have to be the first one I ask, but it’s still your choice.”

\t“Only if the situation’s presently stable enough that Rellan would be safe coming along,” she replied immediately.  “I am not going anywhere else without my son!”

\tHe nodded again, his expression serious, “I understand... and I apologize for the time you’ve had to spend apart from him.  The ‘crisis,’ this time, is mostly economic, as they’re protesting the perfectly legitimate, and honestly very low, customs duties on Vale goods that pass through Drachath on their way south.  The only violence any of the current consular corps expects is along the lines of commerce raiding, crown-sponsored but officially disavowed ‘bandits’ and the like.”

\tThis fetched an amused smile, “Vivenge may have the same ‘complaint’ when the dust finally settles...  Their generals are still bickering over who gets to be the new emperor, and there’ve been several pitched battles around Maurere, ones that did even more damage than my little visit.  You see, we’re about to lose our exclusive access, as Malia’s allowing another opening in Her wall, roughly the same place I crossed it.  That little town with the inn that boasted such an amazing sunset will soon blossom at least as much as Chraf did, and Silkmane is already working on new construction to handle the increased commerce and tourism.”

\tLachier frowned briefly, but started to nod as he actually thought it through, “That... actually doesn’t sound bad.  We’re losing only one of the four borders we were ‘exclusive’ for, and it might prove decisive in Letarr.  If you wait until they finally, explicitly complain about us ‘hogging’ trade with the Vale, you can spring this new arrangement on them.  Atheria may be our ally, but they’re still a different kingdom.  We won’t see a farthing from goods going directly to them anymore, or to Vivenge when things finally calm down.  If Keesanrel’s even remotely as good a king as he’d have to be for Kathalla to choose him, the duties the empire pays will be fairly high, that being an accepted form of punishment so soon after hostilities, and the difference between what Vivenge and Letarr are paying is just one more arrow in your diplomatic quiver.”

\tJessela nudged his side with her elbow, “They’re exchanging rings... and there’s the kiss!  Oh, my, and what a kiss it is!  Come on, we’ll need to go back to the suite to change for the reception.  I believe you’ll enjoy it far more than most formal parties, my love...”

\tThe raccoon’s eyes blinked in confusion under his crown, and he glanced over at a knowing chuckle from his ambassador.  “She’s right, your Majesty,” Elaria assured him.  “The ‘reception’ will be more like an orgy, as it’s being held in all three rooms of the playclub under the embassy.  Even in the merely ‘naughty’ room, refreshments will be served that the more squeamish of the courtiers will be better off not asking about.  This morning was the last sunrise a full dozen slaves ever saw.”

\tThe king blinked once more, then shook his head with a grin, “I wouldn’t miss that for the world!  I’ve been so bloody busy that I haven’t been to a playclub, or even enjoyed a disposable plaything in private, since before my coronation.  Kathalla hasn’t complained... but if I miss this She would, and rightly so.”

The End

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