Fragile Sfox

After much rest and recuperation, I was back on my feet. Purging myself of opiates proved to be an impossible tasks, thanks to the sheer amount that Izil had forced me to partake of, so I began taking small doses to keep myself stable and fend off the shakes that came when I went without it.

I spent most of this time in Izil's tent, not catching a hint of the outside world save for whatever was shown through the flap whenever he or Laurent left and returned. When I finally was able to leave, I realized just how lucky I was to have stayed indoors the entire time.

We weren't more than a day's ride from Sfox but it felt like we were exponentially closer to the sun. My fur felt like it was seconds away from catching fire and my skin beneath it was cooking like a slice of meat on a frying pan.

Thankfully a fennec spotted my suffering, or perhaps was just taken aback by a naked red fox standing at the entrance of her Clan Chief's ten, and rushed up to me with a bundle of white cloth. She began dressing me in the white robes of her tribe, complete with a head-scarf that tied around my crown, and although it felt rather warm and heavy at first, I began to feel exponentially cooler as I felt the sun reflect off the clothes and the wind flow freely through the linen cloth.

The fennec vixen stole a glance at my package while she was doing this, no doubt she was quite impressed and her sandy scent grew slightly sweet, like sugar caramelizing atop a hot stone. I was quite tempted to invite her for a quiet moment together, but feared angering Clan Agulez, especially if she was mated.

Coming from the Fox Republic, I had a bad habit of viewing fennecs as serviles, something that I needed to correct in light of the current circumstances.

I thanked her politely and let her shuffle off towards a group of vixens. Her tail began wagging happily as she chattered to the rest of them, occasionally glancing at me with brown eyes and laughing. It looks like her glance was the largest news that they had in ages.

The camp was larger than I had expected, with hundreds of tents including many large, communal ones for lesser members of the clan. Animal pens containing sheep and goats were common, along with a large grazing area for the horses, of which there were seemingly thousands, in the grassy area by the oasis.

There were also textile mills where the younger vixens of the clan spun wool into yarn to be turned into clothing. Older vixens were busy using the finest wool to weave carpets with distinct geometrical patterns made up of all the colors of the rainbow. I ducked behind a tent just as a pair of fox merchants were leaving, with three ransomed captives in tow and a pile of carpets atop their camel's backs. What a racket the fennecs had! Kidnap their relatives and then sell them luxury goods when they came to buy them back!

I had never imagined their economy to be so developed. It was very similar to our own industries and I had to admit, they were far more civilized that I had expected.

Sure, there was still a savagery to them. There was one tent that reeked of sex, which I quickly learned was where the captives who weren't lucky enough to be ransomed were sent. The ones who were very unlucky would be later sold to the hyenas, where I'm told they're worked to death, either in the gold mines or in the Queen's bedchamber. The fennecs had no shame about rutting next to their fellow clan members and the few times I went inside, I instantly had gotten a splitting headache from the overwhelming melange of musk.

Concluding my grand tour of the premises, I stumbled upon Izil and Laurent. Izil had allowed his 'wife' temporary emancipation from wifely duties and Laurent was now dressed in the same tribal garb that I was wearing, though he still carried the lingering scent of horse-sweat and sand that Izil had left on him.

“Ah!" Izil exclaimed, passing a soft, tan waterskin towards me as I approached.

“No thanks, I'm not thirsty," I pushed it gently away.

“Have you urinated in the last hour?" Izil asked, cocking his head.

“No.

“Then you are very thirsty," the skin sloshed as Izil slapped it against my chest, “do you know what sand is, General?"

I reluctantly put the nozzle of the waterskin to my muzzle and squirted a stream of water into my mouth. It tasted like old goat meat, “Crumbled rocks."

Izil shook his head, “Wrong. Chimera go into the desert without water. They collapse from thirst and the buzzards pick their flesh away, leaving the bones behind. The bones crumble and turn to dust," Izil kicked at a small clump of sand just as the wind caught it, sending it flying off into the distance, “you are standing on the bones of countless fennecs, foxes, cheetahs, humans...and so many others who thought they weren't thirsty."

“I'll keep that in mind."

“Please do. I shall not have my prize harmed. You still owe us glory or gold," Izil turned away with a swish of his tail. He ran a finger along the outline of his tall ears, “we're used to this heat, but you are not. You will not survive long if you decide to flee."

I laughed, “Where would I even go?"

Izil's ear twitched and he leaned his head over his shoulder, eye's squinted shrewdly, “Plenty of places! Why, you could decide to surrender to your Dictator and be safe back in your prison, denying us the ransom! Besides that, there are cheetah tribes not far South from here whom would take you in, though at the rate they're getting routed, you might as well keep going South to the Hyena Queendom and throw yourself at their mercy. The Queen loves fox tods, but they never seem to be seen again after falling victim to her passions..."

“I think I get the picture."

“The Lions! Why, they hate the wolves almost as much as you do! More than a few would host a foreign general in exchange for their services! Even the famous General Gernan of the Alphate did that, you know? Of course, mind you, they also dislike foxes!" Izil coughed and took a sip of his own waterskin. “Or if the lions aren't your preference, you could probably slip through their territories and into the Leopard Shahdom, whom I'm sure would also love to give you the opportunity to raid and kill your fellow foxes in the Levantine trading posts!"

I frowned, “You have some issue with me helping you take Sfox?"

“None at all! Just wondering how far you'd go to betray your Republic?"

“I didn't betray it, they betrayed me."

“Of course."

“Why are you telling me all these things anyway?" I asked, changing the subject. “I didn't expect there to be so many ways out for me."

“Sometimes, the best way to trap someone is to let them know the undesirability of all possible escape routes," Izil flashed me a smile, “besides, I'm not going to let you go to Sfox unescorted!"

Izil clapped his paws together and shouted something in his native tongue. On cue, two fennecs broke off from two separate groups and strode towards us on both sides.

One was short, even for a fennec, standing at about the top of my abdomen. He was wearing the same white robes with a matching cloth headdress that I was, except yellow thread was woven across his chest, forming an intricate outline of a rose. Two sabers were seated in matching, silver sheathes tied to his belt at the hips. His eyes were unusually pale for a fennec, they were still brown but had golden veins mixed among his irises, making his eyes look almost like a red foxes'.

The other was far more interesting. A contrast to her companion, she was tall, the top of her head just high enough to scratch the bottom of my chin when she stood up straight. She was dressed in a warrior's garb, the same robes as I, and a compound bow was slung across her left shoulder, with a leather quiver filled with feathered arrows across her right. She had a scimitar on her hip, sheathed in a simple, far less ornate, leather scabbard. Her eyes caught mine, they were as dark as night, and a tiny smile grew on her muzzle.

Her smell! While her male companion might have worn a rose across his robes, she wore a rose in her scent! A true desert rose! I could not help but sniff at the air as she approached and she reciprocated very subtly, but just obvious enough for me to notice!

“General, these are some of my best clan warriors. Meet Itri," Izil slapped the little male on the shoulder, before motioning respectfully towards the tall female, “and this is Tajeddigt. They will be escorting you to Sfox."

“A vixen warrior?" I asked, leaning forward and giving Tajeddigt a probing sniff. She didn't react at all, meeting my gaze with stoney eyes, though her smile remained.

“You object?"

“No, on the contrary," I shook my head. It was the truth, I could tell by her bearing that she was ready for anything that might have been thrown her way, “I think anyone who has the stones to take up arms should be allowed to, whether they have stones hanging between their thighs or not. I just didn't know you fennecs allowed it."

“It's not normal, no, but Tajeddigt had extraordinary circumstances and she's one of the finest warriors of Clan Agulez."

“What circumstances?"

“That, dear General," Tajeddigt suddenly spoke, her smile shortening as she chuckled. She slapped the grip of her bow with her paw, “is between me and my husband."

That word, 'husband,' how it filled me with disappointment! I must have let it show on my face or in my scent, because both her and Izil began to laugh. Itri, on the other hand, merely spat onto the sands silently.

I tried to change the subject, keep us on track at the task at hand, “They don't exactly like fennecs in Sfox, unless they're wearing chains."

Laurent suddenly spoke up, “We have a character for you to play, an eccentric carpet merchant and his two slave assistants, along with his younger brother, myself. While in the city, Tajeddigt and Itri will be dressed for the part, but their weapons will be concealed nearby at all times."

“Slaves, hm?" I blinked slowly at Tajeddigt, my tail swishing gently behind me.

She laughed, “Any disgraceful orders you give us shall be answered with a duel once the mission is over."

Despite placing her paw on the hilt of her scimitar as if to draw it, I caught a whiff of her rose-like scent growing sweeter. If she had been a red fox, I would have been almost certain that she had an attraction buried beneath her aggressive facade. However, she was a fennec and I was not familiar with their scent-markings.

“Wouldn't dream of causing disgrace," I said, bowing slightly in an apology.

Itri snorted and spat once again onto the sands.

“Maybe you should lecture him on hydration as well," I told Izil, motioning with my paw towards Itri, who ignored me.

“Ignore him, he's a noble warrior, if taciturn," Izil said before patting Laurent on the head, “continue, please."

Laurent's tail went stiff as the fennec chief stroked a finger through the hairs atop his scalp. When he finally began again, his voice was controlled and neutral, “While inside the city, we'll keep our ears sharp for any rumors about the defenses along with conducting surveys after the market is closed."

“And the rest, dear General, will be up to you," Izil cupped the side of Laurent's face I his paw for a second before releasing it and stepping away towards me, “I will be eagerly awaiting your return. You will see to it that Sfox is ours or else Tajeddigt and Itri will see to it that you and my bride are returned, in chains if necessary. Perhaps I would prefer it that way!"

“I won't let you down."

“I know you won't," Izil's paw pads were surprisingly smooth for a desert nomad, as they brushed up against the side of my face just like he had done to Laurent earlier, “you stand to lose everything while I stand to win no matter what."

Izil's advice about water rang through my mind as we drove our camels across the white sands and towards the steep hills that surrounded Sfox. It quickly became instinctual, squirting water into our yaps every other second.

The camels were nasty, grunting creatures that spat and bit. I would have taken a horse any day, but I knew that a horse, though faster, would have required a lot more breaks and regular watering.

Our pace was only broken when we stopped to take breaks at high noon and when night fell. During both times, me and Laurent were taken into a small, sweltering tent, irons slapped around our wrists that ran from a chain to the other's manacles, and given an iron piss-pot. It was still a long ways to go before the fennecs had to pretend to be our slaves and until then, we were at their mercy.

Eventually, we came to a stop at Itri's urging. His tall ears began twitching a cross the horizon until they locked on something that was far too distant for me to hear. Itri suddenly dismounted from his camel and slid his swords between a pile of rugs tied to his camel. To my surprise, the short fennec ripped off his warrior's robes and switched them for a pair that was similar in color and form, but was covered in tears and lacked the golden rose stitched into it.

By the time I ordered my camel to halt and got it to listen, Tajeddigt was beginning to do the same. When my boots hit the sand, she was fully dressed in a white dress that ran from her shoulders to a skirt that reached just above her feet. It clung to her body quite well, showing off the outline of her trim figure; she was quite fetching in it, but I had to admit, I felt her robes and weapons suited her beauty more.

“Does he ever speak?" I asked Tajeddigt.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, “A chatterbox normally."

“Then why the silent treatment?"

“Oh, it's simple," she said, undoing the string on her compound bow, “he hates you."

“Hates me? Why?"

“You'd have to ask him!" she laughed.

“How about you? Do you hate me too?"

“No."

She placed her bow gently in both paws and stared at it affectionately, one could almost say loving. After a calm moment of silence, she lifted up its length to her nose and softly nuzzled it before slipping it into a roll of carpet.

“A queer ritual. Can't say I've ever been intimate wit-"

Hot metal pressed up against my neck in an instant and I froze. Tajeddigt still had that cute smile on her muzzle, but the scimitar that she was holding was not nearly as cute.

“I never said I liked you though," she sniffed, “and my hatred is far more terrifying than Itri's. So keep your opinions to yourself about my 'queer rituals.'"

“Alright, alright! I take it back!"

Her blade slipped across my neck, just light enough to not break the skin, and was slapped back into her scabbard before she concealed it inside the carpet along with her bow. I heard the clink of metal as she pulled something out of a saddlebag that shimmered in the desert sun.

“Help me put this on," she ordered, placing an open loop of gold around her slender neck.

I closed in on her and touched the golden collar, it was hot enough to cook dinner on.

“You sure about this? It's damned hot."

“General Marco? Caring about the well-being of his slaves? How touching!"

“Don't get me wrong, it's just-"

“Shut up and collar me, fox."

I pressed the two ends of the collar together and it closed with a light click. There was a release button hidden on the bottom of it, but you couldn't tell it was there unless you were looking for it and brushed aside Tajeddigt's sandy fur. Were it not for that, the proud warrior would have been the spitting image of an average fennec slave.

“How do I look?" she asked.

“Like you're about to serve me a drink."

“Then the disguise is effective," she laughed with confidence, her eyes slowly leering towards the carpet rolls, “just remember, our weapons won't be far. Don't get too caught up in your role."

“I will try not to."

Our roles were now reversed. We loaded up as much carpets as we could on Tajeddigt and Itri's camels. The two fennecs drove the camel train onwards, with Tajeddigt holding the reins while Itri kept them in line from behind.

Laurent and I were atop our own camels and I could not help but feel a little smug, it had been a long time since I was atop a steed and had any sliver of glory. Laurent, on the other hand, looked intensely bored, but whenever the wind shifted and blew his scent in my direction, I could taste sulfur, his anxiety, his fears. I was looking at a short life of torture and death if we failed, while he was looking at a lifetime of captivity.

About an hour later, we encountered was Itri's sharp ears detected: a group of foxen patrols atop camels, wielding splintered lances and wearing old, tough leather chest-plates. Their leader came up to us and politely requested a toll for using their road. Despite there being not so much as a wagon trail, nor did they have any authority to request tolls, we handed over a carpet. They would easily be able to sell it in exchange for a week's worth of drunken fun.

They told us that Sfox was a day's ride away and we thanked them.

Sfox once again lay before us with its white walls enclosed around its markets, pubs, and elite housing, while a metropolis of shacks and shanties surrounded it. Not much had changed since I had last been here and you could hardly tell that the fennecs had raided the place not too long ago.

Our greeting was far different than what Laurent and I had first encountered. As we strode through the slums atop our camels, filthy foxes, fennecs, and cheetahs came swarming around us, most dressed in ragged trousers and tunics while many were completely naked. Their palms were outstretched, begging for alms, but I had none to spare. We were on a mission.

They are so many of them, I thought to myself. If they really wanted to, they could storm the city and take it!

Such thoughts were a little optimistic on my part. Though it was not nearly as fortified as a great city such as Vulpezzia or Lupercal, the walls were tall enough to keep the rabble out and even if they were to blockade the walls indefinitely, the docks could ensure a fresh supply of food for the foxes within the walls. They could easily outlast them.

What was I thinking!? Three months!? I was mad! I had no choice, but it was still madness! The fennecs were strong warriors, they had proven that to me, but they were not used to besieging a city, they had no engineers and even if we did, there was hardly the lumber necessary to construct siege equipment!

Would I get lucky again? Pest was a massive city with many secrets and somehow I doubted that the humans built similar tunnels underneath Sfox. I couldn't rely on fate, not again!

Breathing in and out, I tried to calm myself as we passed through the gates of the city, once again, handing over a carpet to the guards in order to expedite the process and avoid them examining me too closely. I was an outlaw, after all.

Cheerfully, the city had gathered around the market square, with many having left their stalls unguarded, in order to witness today's entertainment.

“For the crime of theft, the accused, Yedder, has been sentenced to be hung from the neck until he is dead," a fox official, dressed in a red, velvet doublet; read aloud from a scroll atop a wooden podium. A pale, scrawny fennec stood atop a stood with a hempen noose embracing his neck.

“What did he steal?" I whispered to a vixen wearing a gray bonnet. She smelled strongly of fish and her apron was covered in dried guts.

She peered up at me atop my camel, “Dried meat."

“What!?"

“From the Deputy Governor," she nodded, “he was out slumming it and the poor fennec decided to lift his snack."

Things were done differently in the colonies. It was true, that if you were living in the Grand Mercantile Republic, you were guaranteed certain rights that varied depending on which Republic within it you called home. Stealing in Vulpezzia would mean a stint in the dungeons, while doing the same in the Hansa would grant you a period of forced labor, most likely in the poisonous Bavarian Wastes, scavenging for metal; likewise, if you were to steal in the Iberian provinces, you'd be indentured to the person you stole from for a period of time. In all such places, if you stole from someone important, you were guaranteed to have a worse sentence, but it would still be a sentence within the bounds of the law.

However, out in the colonies, there was no such thing as due process. The Governor could define the laws as much as he pleased in order to keep the rabble in line. If someone stole from one of his friends, there was nothing stopping him from…

The rope snapped as the fennec was dropped and the crowd gasped. His neck did not break, for the noose was not designed for a creature as light as him, or perhaps that was exactly what the Governor wanted. The fox official on the podium had a wide smile across his muzzle as he watched the fennec struggling to free himself from the noose while his throat made horrific gurgling noises and his bowels released.

Poor Yedder, he just wanted to eat, couldn't fault him for that, it was his nature to do so. But let us not forget the poor Governor, who also cannot act outside of his nature, and like a surrounded animal, must lash out at any threat with full force. Neither could control their nature and now Yedder was dying.

And the Governor had sown the seeds for his own demise.

We got set up in the city, finding a cozy apartment not far from the Northern wall. It was a two room affair, with Laurent and I sleeping on two twin beds while the fennecs laid on the carpeted floors at night. Hardly the picture of luxury, but enough to serve as temporary housing for a traveling, eccentric merchant.

In the evenings, I'd have Laurent and the fennecs do some espionage. Snooping around the walls for any weaknesses, going to pubs frequented by the guards, and making sure the name, “Yedder," was not forgotten in the slums.

Every morning, we would wake up at the break of dawn and get the fennecs to help deliver our wares to a stall we had rented out in the market square. Despite my Father being a peddler, he had never taught me the craft, most likely out of fear for his son learning just how poor he was at. A clever fox could make a lot of gold at the market, while a dim one could make a lot of debt, and Father was the latter.

Sadly, I had to admit I took after my Father with regards to peddling. Laurent was far more energetic and able to attract customers to our little fort made of unrolled carpets.

“Fine carpets crafted by fennec nomads!" he cried out. “We have a truly exquisite piece for sale, a true masterpiece that took a fennec vixen twenty years to weave, do have a look!"

My own attempts were rather lackluster and I decided to take a step back and handle the deal itself, rather than attracting customers. I asked Laurent where he learned to do this and he simply told me that it's not so different from acting.

After Laurent, Tajeddigt was the second best employee. Although she was moving carpets and helping keep the stall organized, all it took was a careful glance with her eyes and a curious tilt of the head and she would attract some rich foxes to us, who would inevitably be disappointed that we were not selling her, but frequently had wives who were bugging them for a new carpet.

Itri on the other hand, was doing the bare minimum, focusing entirely on doing the manual work and not helping out any further. Still, if there had been any trouble, I had a feeling we'd be grateful for his presence.

The days rolled by without much of interest to our grand plans. There were plenty of interesting customers though: a local goldsmith whom I befriended and had placed a small order with, giving him a down payment when the fennecs weren't paying attention; a wolven noble who was, “Just touring the backwaters of fox lands," and who proudly proclaimed that our carpets were inferior to the silk ones they got imported from the tigers, before paying full price for one of ours; a vixen who said that she was a baker and bought five rolls from us, paid in full, something far beyond what a baker could afford.

On the second week, however, a very interesting customer stopped by. If I believed in fate, I might have suspected they dropped him in my lap.

“Good day, honorable fox."

A wolf greeted Laurent and they shook hands, leaning forward to catch each other's scent on their neck. The wolf lingered and inhaled deeply before pulling back.

The wolf was wearing a long, green caftan that had gold-colored icons sewn into it that depicted a feral wolf snapping its jaws around a smaller canine, most likely meant to be a fox. The caftan had fur collars and wrists, that matched the wolf's white pelt, which was clearly too warm to be worn in a climate like this and his dried, black nose showed that he was not prepared for the area. Despite this, he wore the local, white scarf atop his head in order to block out the sun, a small divergence from his pride in Alphate fashion.

Laurent showed him over to me and I greeted him in much the same fashion, carefully noticing that he didn't linger on my scent. His scent had a very deep musk to it that reeked of oak. He was confident, though I did not know whether it was misplaced or not.

“Greeting, my name is Giustin, merchant and self-proclaimed expert on all matters carpet-related!" I said as I shook his paw. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name, noble wolf?"

“You may! My name is Ekrem of House Izzet. My Father is the Duke of Greece!"

Distant bells were ringing in my head, but I could only barely hear them. Something about his name was striking a chord, beyond the fact that he would have been prime ransom bait if I was in any position to capture him. Noble titles were abound in the Alphate, but it didn't necessarily mean the holder had any legitimate power, quite the contrary, but they usually had money to throw around.

He looked like a bit of a pompous fool, but had muscles and calloused paw-pads, unlike dainty Galip.

“With peace between our two Kingdoms, I thought that I would do a little tour of fox lands!"

“Begging your pardon, Lord, but we're a Republic," I politely correctly, resisting the urge to chew out the wolf for comparing his primitive government to ours.

“Oh, pardon me!" he said, lifting his nose haughtily. “But in the end, we have an Alpha and you have a Dictator now. They're all assholes in the end!"

I smiled, “That we can agree on!"

“Why can't wolves and foxes say that more often?" he blathered on, idly staring off in the distance across the marketplace as if he was profoundly speaking to the entire world. “We are not so different, both pups born of Canis, why should we spend so much time fighting? Peace is far more nice, is it not?"

“Agreed, my Lord."

“I should start my own school of thought!" he broke his trance to laugh at his own joke. “The War of the Open Paw. Peace through trade and mutual, intimate understanding! It was not what I studied at the university, but then, with all my talk of peace, I have hardly lived it until now!"

“Studied?"

“Ah yes! You must think we nobles spend all day prancing about from party to party, no?" he laughed once again at himself. “Don't worry, it's okay to say so! We're all friends here!"

“It is true, yes, that most people conferred a title in the Alphate tend to be layabouts while the bureaucrats do most of the work. However, I was not one for that! I attended the Beta Gernan Military Academy, founded by Alpha Emeritus Romulus himself, Canis rest his soul..."

“What!?"

“Oh, I suppose news travels slowly to such parts..." Ekrem rolled his eyes slightly. “The Alpha Emeritus has passed away peacefully."

A lot had happened during my exile, more than I could have ever guessed. Romulus was old, so I should not have been surprised, but yet I was. Before he died, there were always rumors that he was dictating matters of the state behind the scenes or worse, a fear that despite his advanced age, he might take the throne again. Romulus was a true villain, his actions resulted in the greatest loss of fox land and lives in history, but still, I could not truly process what to feel right now.

Aokus was not half the Alpha he was. There would be no triumph in capturing such a buffoon and forcing my demands on him. Romulus though! It would have been rich to see his weathered face broken as I shattered his legacy in front of his very eyes! I would have him live forever, so that he could be hated eternally as the human who delivered Lupercal to the foxes.

My victory would be assured now, I knew this, but the prospect no longer seemed as exciting. It was like hunting a wounded rabbit, except even a wounded rabbit could mate, something Aokus consistently failed to do at the height of his health.

Ekrem's nostrils flared, “Are you upset? I would have thought you'd be pleased, being a fox. I would not take offense."

“I was just surprised, that's all," I cleared my throat, “what was it you were saying about the university?"

“Ah, yes! Pardon me! Well, I was encouraged to go there for a lesson in command by my Father, but I was never one for ordering others to die for me, wretched business, that!" a passing fox accidentally kicked up a cloud of dust onto his caftan, which he casually brushed off without so much as a grimace. “I took lessons in mathematics, architecture, and the liberal arts, which the academy offered and you know what? I was given a position in the military as soon as I graduated!"

“Really now?"

“Yes! Ha ha ha! For all my talk of peace, I'm afraid I might be quite the hypocrite! I was the chief engineer with the Peshtian loyalist forces. If the treaty had not been signed, I would have been in charge of knocking down Pesht's walls and bringing back the head of General Marco!"

The bells in my head were no longer distant and they were ringing as if they were in a hurricane. I knew there was something familiar about his name! He managed to successfully besiege Split during the war, which was no small task even when it was under the weak grip of Marshal Beaumont.

“Now then, pardon me, Guistin, but we must get to the wretched subject of business."

“Oh yes!" I motioned towards the 'masterpiece' that Laurent had advertised. It was a fine piece, no doubt, with gold and red geometric shapes, but it certainly wasn't made over the course of twenty years by one fennec. “This one-"

“Your brother, I presume that's who he is?" he asked and I nodded. “He's already sold me on it. This would look magnificent in my manor!"

“Agreed! It's such a piece that it would make even the humblest of manors feel like a royal palace!"

“Indeed," Ekrem narrowed his eyes and began running his fingers through the long hairs on his chin. “But I've seen many pieces like this and I'm not so certain this is the one I should be purchasing."

Truthfully, I couldn't have cared less about selling this overpriced piece of wool, but I didn't want to let this engineer go.

“How may I persuade you, noble wolf?"

“I've seen something far more fetching at your stall..." he trailed off.

“The fennecs, they're-"

“No, no!" he shook his head with a smile. “Not them, they're as common as sand here, I'm afraid, and too small."

“Then, who?" I asked, already knowing where this was going.

“I have a private suite at the finest inn in town. I would like your brother to join me for dinner this evening there."

“I see."

“If the evening goes well and we enjoy ourselves..." the wolf cleared his throat, “...perhaps we can discuss the purchase."

“My brother..." I paused. I truly had no wish to subject Laurent to this, not after he had been so adamant about his preference for vixens and after said preference had been routinely violated by myself and Izil. However, this was war and we had a unique opportunity to turn the tides, “...would be delighted to join you for dinner. I've seen him glancing at you, he's always had a thing for wolves."

Ekrem's grin grew wide and greedy, “Excellent! I shall be awaiting him at sundown."

I had to do this.

“I'll let him know!"

Tail wagging slightly, Ekrem began stepping out of the carpet fort and away from the stall, when he paused and leaned his face over his shoulder.

“I have plenty of olive oil, just so he's aware," he said with a wink, “he won't need to bring any for his dinner."