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."