Night had begun to fall when the royal caravan made halt. Under the watchful eyes of the caravan-leader (who answered only to the Queen), and his assistants, tents were erected and food was prepared.
Seated by one of the camp-fires, Nasari finished her bowl of stew and gazed into the flames.
"Are you thinking about Jeraddin?" A voice asked. It was Miranda, who, as usual could be found close to Nasari.
"A little" the black cat admitted. "Mostly I'm thinking about my children. I can't help but worry about them, especially the youngest."
"I guess that's natural, when you're a parent" the raccoon said. "I'm sure both Risha and Leorin are doing fine, though. From what you've told me, they are both smart kids."
"They are" Nasari agreed, smiling wistfully at the thought of her babies. Of course, one of them was an adult and had been for quite some time. Not that age matter; a child is always a child to its parents.
"Thank you" she said, giving Miranda a peck on the cheek. "You always know what to say to put me at ease."
"Same to you. I don't know about you, but I can't wait to be back in Vinoli again. Staying in Guanaca was fine, I guess, but all this sand really isn't my thing."
Nasari too, could not wait to return home. Though she did not share her lover's opinion on Guanaca. During her stay in the palace, she had come to despise this place, where her daughter had spent so many years in slavery. Though she was loath to admit it, the black cat had felt almost grateful when the Queen had decided that it was time to bid Guanaca good-bye. The Vinolian palace was a prison, this was true, but at least it was not a prison for any of her own flesh and blood.
"Something tells me that our new King-Consort does not feel the same way" she said.
"I think you're right." Miranda lowered her voice slightly, as she spoke. "I've heard that he's been sulking ever since we left Guanaca. I guess he would have preferred to stay behind and govern his own Kingdom, rather than leaving it in the hands of someone else. Can't blame him for that, I suppose. It can't be easy having regained your kingdom, only to be obliged to leave it in the hands of somebody else and that someone not even being one of your own."
"No, I suppose not" Nasari replied, her eyes turning towards the large tent that stood in the center of the camp.
****
Inside the tent, Argath, having finished the last of her stuffed quails, put down the utensils and wiped her mouth with a silk napkin. As the Queen did this, her eyes fell upon King Faljan. The Fennec had barely touched his food, but he was on his third goblet of chilled wine.
"Come now, husband" Argath said, cheerfully. "Don't be so glum. I know you wanted to stay in Guanaca, but surely, the people of Vinoli have a right to welcome their new King. After all, We came to your kingdom, did We not?"
This got a reaction: Faljan abruptly rose from his chair, causing it to tip over. He stared at Argath and, if looks, could kill, Faljan would have found himself a widower. For a moment, the young Monarch only stood there, his shoulders trembling.
"You...you" he said. He would have liked to say more, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to come out. Instead, he turned and stormed out of the tent, with as much dignity as he could muster.
Argath watched him leave.
Pathetic, she thought, shaking her head contemptuously.
Not that Argath minded, but she hoped that her future child would take after her rather than its father.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty. Shall I remove the King's plate?" Inquired the servant.
Argath glanced disinterestedly at the almost-full plate.
"Ye..." She began, only to immediately change her mind. "No, leave it here."
There was no use letting perfectly good food go to waste and besides, she was eating for two now, after all.
Fine. Two and a half.
****
Outside, Faljan had walked around to the backside of the tent, where he gave vent to his frustrations by stomping around and muttering curse-words to himself. He recalled the marriage-contract that Argath had drawn up, on the day he had first appeared at the Vinolian court. In the contract it had said that their marriage would be of a purely political nature and, that once Guanaca and Vinoli were united, the two of them would rule as equals, but each would have the final decision in matters concerning their own kingdoms.
This had all sounded perfectly reasonable to Faljan and so, he had signed the contract and had joined the army, which under the command of General Jeraddin was to take his throne back from his treacherous cousin.
Looking back, he should have realized that something was not quite right, when during their wedding ceremony, Argath had snatched the crown which he was to place on her head and had done so herself. At the time though, he had merely chalked it up to female vanity and wounded pride.
But then, Argath had appointed that iguana, Felix, to govern Guanaca in the name of the newlyweds. This had been too much for Faljan; with his blood boiling he had confronted Argath and asked her if she remembered the marriage contract?
"We had a deal!" He had said, his voice rising a pitch. "Remember?!"
"Yes" the Queen had replied, her voice perfectly calm. "We remember and We intend to honor the first part of said deal. As for the second. Well, let's just say that We have made some modifications to it."
"You can't do this!" Faljan had protested hotly. Only to realize immediately that, no, she could. After all, what nation did the soldiers currently patrolling the streets of Guanaca belong too? That's right, Vinoli.
"Felix is a man of great integrity" Argath had said, addressing her husband in the way that a parent would an unreasonable child. "He will not abuse his position. You can have the same confidence in him as We have."
And its not like I have a choice in the matter, Faljan had thought bitterly, before he had left the room, with the Queen's laughter following him.
The Memory of this scene caused tears of anger, shame and self-pity to start streaming down Faljan's cheeks and he collapsed into his knees in the sand, hiding his face in his paws.
All he had wanted was to get back what was his, by birthright. Was that so wrong?
What a fool I've been, he thought. How could I have trusted that woman?
A thought then occurred to the King, one that caused the hair on his body to stand on edge: Now that Argath had control over Guanaca, what did she need him for? At this point, he did not doubt that his spouse was capable of murder. In fact, if anyone had told him that Argath had killed her own father, the fennec would have believed them without hesitation.
Faljan swallowed, he could already feel the noose tightening around his neck.
No! He would not let that happen! If that bitch thought he could get rid of Faljan of Guanaca that easily, she had another thing coming. He would strike first!
Faljan dried his tears and looked around. Save for a few guards, patrolling the perimeter of the camp, he was the only outside. Everyone else had retired to their tents. With newfound determination, the fennec headed back to the largest tent and stepped inside. He could hear the sound of Argath snoring, knocked out cold by that potion she took to help her sleep every night. With his heart beating in his ears, Faljan grabbed a convenient knife from the table and went over to the Queen's side of the tent.
She lied on her travelling-bed, spread-eagle with her eyes open. For a moment, Faljan was worried that she was awake, but then he heard the snoring and remember that this was simply the way Argath slept. She was not alone in the bed; one of her maids, the racoon was curled up by her feet, sleeping soundly.
Good, Faljan thought. She'll make an ideal scape-goat. I'm sorry, whatever your name is, but I have no other choice.
He raised the knife, ready to plunge into one of Argath's eyes and then, he suddenly stopped: His gaze travelled downward, to the Queen's stomach. In there, the fruit of his loins, the heir to his throne waited to enter the World. Killing Argath would mean taking the life of that child as well and Faljan knew he could not do that.
"Congratulations" he whispered. "You get to live a while longer."
Silently, Faljan returned to his own bed, where he eventually fell asleep, clutching the knife tightly in his paw.
