Blood on the Suez

We rode forward into an auspicious
Southern wind that blew along the Suez as we approached the bridge
once again. The smell of smoke twirled in our nostrils and the sounds
of celebrating lions danced in our ears long before we were in
eyesight of the affair. A thick cloud of smoke was wafting into the
air from a massive bonfire atop the bridge, clearly
visible against the full-moon illuminating the night sky.

I had only Laurent, Taj, and a few
fennecs with me. We were not armed.

“You look a little out of sorts, love,”
Taj narrowed her eyes with a playful grin.

She was right. The entire journey back
from the Dead Sea had been very trying and I was not quite sure what
caused it. No matter how much I fidgeted, I could not get comfortable
in my saddle, at one point all but standing up in the stirrups
because of how sore I was getting. In
fact, I had a similar discomfort during my entire stay there and it
had been that way for nearly a month now.

“Just been having bad dreams, love,”
I replied back, brushing some sand
from the folds of my white robes.
This was true, mind you, I had been beset with a horrific dream at
Levanti’s palace that I shall not repeat to you.

“Perhaps the festivities tonight shall
ease your sleep,” she said.

“They won’t,” Laurent idly spoke to
himself, which I ignored.

As we approached the mouth of the bridge
a group of lions marched up, armed with clubs and wearing little more
than leather loincloths. They were staggering, having clearly taken
their share of drink.

“Who goes there!?” one of them spoke,
pawing at the grip of his club.

“Marco of Carpathia, I’m here for the
wedding to the Turtle Clan!” I announced, pointing towards my gold
eye. Surely at least one of the lions would have remembered that from
my last visit.

“And who’re they!?” he pointed
towards my companions.

“My entourage,” I cleared my throat
and dismounted from my horse, kicking up course sand with my boots as
I landed. I raised my arms and swished my robes with my paw. “We’re
unarmed, I was invited by one of the warriors to attend.”

“Right, well...” the guard paused for
a second as he approached, “we’ll just see what the Chief has to
say!”

The lion began patting me down and
sniffing me over, his breath reeking of nasty, cheap beer. His paw
hit a hard satchel I had attached to my hip-belt and greedily opened
it up, “What’s in here, then?”

“Hashish and opium,” I answered as
the lion took out a paper-wrapped package and ran his nose along it.
I gently took it back from him, “as a gift to the Chief.”

“He’ll enjoy that, I’m sure,” the
lion finished patting me down. Appearing satisfied, he spoke to his
fellow guards, “let the three of them pass, but keep an eye on the
other fennecs. I can handle the others and take them to the Chief.”

Despite
the guard being slightly drunk, I think he would be more than capable
of besting us in a fight. Underneath his short, tan fur were titanic
muscles and fighting off two unarmed foxes and a fennec wouldn’t be
much of a challenge. Still,
he grew a bit more pleasant as we marched further in, introducing
himself as Me'uu.

Laurent and Taj were inspected as well
and we were soon marched up the ramp leading to the bridge and into
the clan’s bridge-top village.

“Sorry
about the hassle, honored fox,” Me'uu
apologized as we entered the outskirts of their town. A palisade was
set up, its stakes dug into the stone floor of the bridge, to create
a choke-point. It didn’t look particularly sturdy, especially after
the sieges we’d done so far but it could still be trouble. “We’re
welcoming to all visitors during such an occasion, but
one can never be too careful. When this many clans gather, we can get
a little rowdy.”

A smaller campfire was burning between
two adobe shacks. Five male lions, all with thick manes, were sitting
around it and seemed to be snuggling contently. Only when the fire
flickered did I noticed one was behind the other and thrusting his
hips in a very intimate manner.

I paused, staring at the receiver open
his jaws in ecstasy. In the Alphate, when you had such a bond it was
a big deal who was the bottom, a higher-ranked wolf taking it up the
rear from a lesser was a serious breach of conduct. I had always
assumed lions were the same, also having a very rigid social
structure like wolves.

Most foxes did not care as much,
considering it to be a personal matter for the two partners. It only
became a shameful subject when a wolf was involved, if they were the
dominate partner.

Still, I would never do that. I could
never do that.

I was out of my saddle now but I was
still sore. Would it ever go away?

“Staring
is not polite in this case, fox,” Me'uu
pulled
me by the shoulder and guided me away, “if you wish to join them,
you need only ask.”

“No!” I exclaimed with a start,
causing the guard to back a step away. I
lowered my voice to a whisper. “Nothing
like that, I was merely curious! I thought lions considered such an
act to be degrading for the one receiving.”

“They’re a Bachelor Clan, the Lizard
Clan. Rules are different for them.”

“Bachelor Clan?” I asked as we passed
by another small fire-pit that had a lioness roasting a pig on a spit
over it.

“It’s difficult to get mates and form
your own pride when you’re young,” Me'uu explained, “so a lot
of lower-ranked cubs from different clans form their own until they
can find a mate. They hunt together, live together, and as you can
see: they mate together. Usually they take turns being the passive
partner, no shame in it, it’s not meant to be forever and as far as
they’re concerned they’re all equally low-ranked.”

“Strange,” I muttered. The
rigid form of polygamy lions practices always confused me. It was so
much simpler, being a fox and marrying one mate while casually
dallying with a mistress.

Two
lions were sitting on stools across from the other. They were
dueling, not with weapons but with musical instruments. One would
play a section of a song on his guitar while the other would fight
back with another section on his lute, growing in tempo and intensity
with each round to see who was the superior musician. Both
instruments looked Foxen, likely bought from a nearby trading post or
stolen from the former Bridge Clan.

A Priestess of the Sun bumped into me on
the way, stumbling drunk with pomegranate-fortified ale running down
her mouth, staining her fur as red as her robes. The marriage would
not be until dawn, I figured, a sacred period for followers of
Felidae.

We drew closer to the bonfire, a big pile
of old, smashed furniture and whatever wood they could muster up. The
Chief was sitting on a squarish throne made of sandstone and fringed
with gold plates along the sides, watching the fire while three
lionesses lounged around him, stroking his body and giving him a
massage on the shoulders.

The Chief turned to face me and he
immediately laughed, pointing to a black sash slapped across his left
eye, a thick pink scar jutting out from it and parting his dark-brown
fur, “Looks like we have something in common! Marco of Carpathia, I
presume?”

I bowed politely, “You have me at an
advantage.”

“Chief
Nahat'Kurwa
of the Bridge Clan!” he stood up from his throne. His leather armor
creaked loudly as he stomped over, numerous gold coins jingling from
strips hanging from the breast that they were sewn into.

The Chief grabbed me by the shoulders and
drew me into a hug. We exchanged scents and I found his to taste like
ash with a bit of sulfur behind it. Sophia once told me during one of
her scent divination sessions that sulfur was an omen of oncoming
death. Normally I didn’t put much stock into that, but when one
smelled it on another being it could be merely a sign that they ate
eggs for breakfast or their body is starting to shut down. The Chief
looked well and was full of energy, I presumed the former was the
case but I suppose it didn’t really matter.

“So, what have I done to earn the honor
of your visit?” Nahat'Kurwa sat back into his throne and bade me to
site on a stool nearby, along with Laurent and Taj. “You’re the
most famous red dog in Africa right now!

“Do I need an ulterior motive to come
visit?” I tilted my head slyly. “One of your warriors invited me
and I merely felt it would be a wonderful festivity. The war is
starting to take its toll on me.”

“Yes, you do need an ulterior motive,
you’re a red dog, you always do!” the Chief slumped back into his
throne and ran his paws along the exposed shoulders of one of his
mates. “We’ve been receiving offers from the red dogs and the
gray dogs to submit to their authority. Both irritate me in different
ways.”

“How so, if I may ask?”

“The red dogs come here and speak
simply of mutual profit, but when
you read between the lines it becomes obvious that once you let them
in, eventually they enslave lions with fancy imports and comforts,
which they will increase in price to put us in debt while we grow
soft,” Mene paused and cleared his throat. “The gray dogs on the
other hand, they talk too damn much and although they speak of
autonomy and letting us mind our own affairs, they also ramble on
about taxation and tribute, of which they have many, many forms of.”

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to
have to accept one of their deals eventually, but for now, we’ll
keep them on their toes and make sure to let them know what the other
one is offering,” the Chief looked over at me and snorted. “And
if you’re worried about being offered up to either, fear not.
Felidae curses those who deny hospitality or betray oaths during
festivities.”

“I notice there’s someone you’re
not mentioning in these negotiations.”

“Who?” the Chief’s yellow eyes
flickered in the fire-light and then he laughed heartily. “Oh no,
Marco, don’t get me wrong I’m rooting for you, you’ve got balls
to raise as much hell as you are and you’re making the foxes more
desperate for a good deal but-”

“No, not me!” I interrupted. “I
meant the leopards,
has the Shah made an offer?”

“That’s a good one!” Nahat'Kurwa
laughed again and his mates joined in on the chorus.

“I’m serious, wouldn’t he be
interested in getting a foothold here? Plus he’s a fellow child of
Felidae and would have more forces readily available to assist you if
needed.”

“A fellow child of Felidae, he says?”
he asked one of his mates and all of them roared angrily. “The
canines merely want to steal as much wealth as possible while the
Shah wants our land for himself! On top of that, we know that him and
the Queendom are up to something, an alliance perhaps? The Queendom
has grown powerful in the last decades and shows no sign of stopping
its growth while the Shahdom is eternally desperate for any shred of
power in the area. If we give them the Suez, they could use that to
launch a war on two fronts and we’d be powerless to stop them.”

So this is why Orompoto introduced us.

It
was too late to back out now though. This was my only hope of winning
the war. Whatever those two had in mind for the area, I could care
less.

“Pardon
me, honored Chief,” Laurent suddenly spoke up, “which way is the
privy?”

The
Chief suddenly calmed down and went back to his regular, jovial self,
“Ah, you mean the shitters?” Nahat'Kurwa pointed South. “Go on
down to the railings on the side of the bridge, you’ll find some of
them overlooking the edge.”

“Thank
you,” Laurent bowed and then disappeared into the shadows.

“Now
where was I...ah, yes!”

“The
Shah would force all lions to obey him or be killed. The Queen, she
would shave the manes off of any lion she captures and force them to
be her slaves,” the
Chief continued ranting angrily. “Felis! If only the Clans would
unify, we’d create an Empire like no other!”

“So
in the end, you’d rather submit to the foxes or the wolves?”

“Better
a distant master than a close one!” Nahat'Kurwa clapped and one of
his mates left his side, grabbing a dull, metal goblet and filling it
up with stale beer from a keg. “Can get away with a lot more when
that’s the case!”

“But
perhaps you could make a deal with the Shah where he annexes your
territory on paper but allows you full autonomy. He’d be free to
befriend the hyenas and wage war on the rest of the lions, but you’d
be safe and sound ruling the Suez.”

“Unthinkable!”
Nahat'Kurwa was once again grouchy. “We lions already do our best
to ruin each other on a daily basis, betraying my species for someone
who clearly wants to do as much harm to us imaginable is not
something I’m going to even consider! Now drop the subject!”

“I
apologize, honored Chief,” I bowed my head, “I merely was curious
about local politics.”

“Hmph,
I’m sure you are.”

A
sharp roar rang out from the party along with terrified screams.
Nahat'Kurwa rose to his feet and started growling orders at his
guards, who began rushing away from the bonfire.

“What’s
going on!?” Taj asked.

“A
fire!” Nahat'Kurwa cried out. “The smokehouse is on fire! Wait
here, we’ll take care of it!”

The
entire Clan sprung into action, including Nahat'Kurwa’ mates who
rushed off with buckets of water. We were left alone, unwatched.

Laurent
emerged from the shadows, taking a seat by the bonfire.

“It’s
done,” he said simply.

“It’s
time, then,” Taj muttered.

I
tossed the satchel full of drugs into the bonfire and quickly circled
around so as to not get caught as the scent blew Southward.

“The
signal will reach the rest of the tribe in a few minutes. We should
find a place to hide before they show up.”

“I
know a place,” Laurent stood up, “follow me!”

We
followed Laurent to the South, making sure to cover our noses and
stay as much out of the way of the intoxicating smoke as possible.
The skunky scent of hashish was pungent, but a different kind of
smell began to make itself present, despite the fact that it was
downwind.

Four
outhouses, side-by-side, were attached to the edge of the bridge.
Even though the waste expelled in them fell down into the canal, the
area still reeked heavily of lion dung. Laurent swerved to the left,
towards one of the stone supports towering above us.

“Here!”
Laurent leaned over the edge by the support and pointed down. Beneath
us was a rusted, metal platform hanging from the underside.

“Think
it’ll support us?” I asked.

“Yeah,
it’ll be fine!”

“Good
enough for me!”

We
swung over the rail and carefully dropped down onto the platform. It
shook a little when Laurent, the last one to jump, dropped down on it
but otherwise it seemed fairly intact. The platform reached around
over to the other end of the bridge and it didn’t look like it got
much use, except as a place for couples to covertly make love, if the
heavy smell of musk in air wasn’t clear about it.

We
waited in silence, listening as the confident roars gave way to panic
when a war-horn blared on the coast. A black mass lurked towards the
bridge, accompanied by the drum beat of horse hooves growing louder.

From
what lion speak I could gather, the Clan was in an uproar. I could
hear the Chief ordering his warriors to defend the bridge but he
would also scream about wanting to find those “Red dogs,” and he
wanted to do something with my tail, likely cut it off. Suffice to
say, they had put two and two together and realized I had broken
Felidae’s law of hospitality.

The
bridge shook as the cavalry stormed across and Nahat'Kurwa began
screaming a new order that I could not understand. It sounded almost
like they were falling back after just a mere minute of skirmishing,
so much for the valor of the mighty Bridge Clan.

A few soft voices spoke above us as I
heard the hoof-beats slow to a trot. The voices were of the fennec
tongue and I responded by crying out loudly. A short muzzle and tall
ears poked over the side and we were helped above by the fennec
warrior.

“A truly cunning plan, General!” the
fennec clapped me on the back. “But you’re missing out on the
fun.”

A white horse stood there, sniffing at
the ground. A spare saber was sheathed across the saddle.

“Give me your horse, solder!” I
ordered. “I’m going to make up for lost time!”

“Yes sir!”

I mounted the horse and kicked him into a
gallop, following the trail of dead bodies and collapsed shacks
towards a plume of smoke that had managed to overpower the bonfire.

I drew the saber just in time to smite a
lion emerging from a shack atop the head, dropping
him to the ground in an instant.

Quickly, I reunited with the main force.
They were trotting around what passed for a town square on this
bridge, shooting arrows at a heavy force of lions armed with bronze
shields and spears, desperately blocking access to an adobe building
with a wooden roof
that appeared to be some kind of barracks.

Most alarming of all though, was that the
barracks was only a few feet away from the Western palisade which was
completely set ablaze, creating a line of flames that blocked any
escape Westward.

Did the lions know no fear? Surely they
must have felt the sting of heat on their flesh. Such bravery was
misplaced, but admirable in its own way, I suppose.

I cupped my paws across my snout, “Chief
Nahat'Kurwa, surrender at once and you will not be harmed!”

After all, the Shah would love to add
you to his menagerie.

“General!”

A fennec
cried out and I turned to see him wildly prancing around on his
horse. One hand was on the reins and the other held the lifeless head
of Chief Nahat'Kurwa.

Cursing
to myself, I began thinking. I had no idea who the second-in-command
of this Clan was, if they even had one!

“Bridge
Clan, your Chief is dead! Stand down, there’s nothing here worth
dying for!”

The
shield-wall did not budge and none of the warriors bothered to
dignify me with a response. They stood vigilant and were determined
to hold their post until the bitter end. A few small missiles flew
out from the second floor of the building, mostly stones but also a
few arrows.

This was
the danger of static fortifications and why I despised them so. They
waste everyone’s time and they turn otherwise good soldiers into
meat for the grinder. These lions were doomed, they had to have known
it.

So why
continue fighting?

“Kill
them all!” I shouted, not that it mattered.

The wind
started shifting and the flames began dancing, reaching across to the
South-East. A tiny little flame caught onto the wooden roof of the
barracks.

Perhaps
the lions would have ran if they had noticed, made a break for it and
tried their luck by rushing us
with
whatever it was they were trying to protect in there.

But they
didn’t notice and continued to endure blocking our missiles. Even
when their comrades started to drop, another would rush out from the
building and take their place. Canis,
the flames, I had never seen a fire grow so fast.

A shrill
scream echoed right when the flames grew to their peak and was
suddenly silenced as the roof caved in.

Only
then did the lions break.

They let
out a harrowing roar of anguish. Most of them rushed us but we were
able to shoot them down before they could reach us and the few that
managed to get within range were introduced to our blades. A few went
into the building, which was now burning just as badly as the
palisade but none came back out.

None
except for one lion whose mane was singed black. He came out carrying
a small bundle of cloth with a small tail sticking out of it, an
infant cub.

I didn’t
say anything. Perhaps if I did, there would have been no survivors,
but I didn’t have the heart to bark at the fennecs to cut the lion
down and the fennecs also hesitated.

If the
lion had rushed us, he would have certainly been cut down, infant or
not, this was just how war went. Instead though, he grabbed one of
the copper shields and slapped it on his left arm, protecting him and
the infant from any stray arrows, which at this point a few fennecs
got the nerve to shoot but the arrows bounced off the shield
harmlessly while the lion rushed towards the palisade.

The
burning palisade.

“NO!”
I shouted as the lion jumped through the roaring inferno with the
infant in his arms and vanished.

The area
was secure. We stood atop our horses silently as the barracks burned
away, taking with it the precious young lives that the lions
dutifully tried to protect.

This is war, I
told myself, knowing that the lions never started this battle. That
they never asked us to come here and break hospitality and massacre
them down to the last cub.

They
should have surrendered! They could have saved their lives! Why, why
didn’t they surrender!?

But
then, if I was a lion among them, would I have trusted the fox who
already broke his word?

This is war.

And I
was going to have my war.