Chapter 52

"Ambassador, it is good to see you again."

The Sound of the Queen's voice caused Nicholaus, Royal ambassador of Gavroza, to turn around with an elegant spin. He then bowed deeply, his lips brushing against the ruby that adorned Argath's left index finger.

"Not as good as it is to see you, Your Majesty" the leopard replied in a suave tone. "It is always a pleasure to visit the Vinolian court and to bask in the presence of its esteemed monarch."

"You must be tired from your journey" Argath said, with a courtesy that rivaled that of her guest's. "Please, sit down. We shall remain standing though, We have been seated for many hours and feel the need to stretch Our legs."

Thanking the Queen, the ambassador sat down at the table. Several small bowls, filled with a variety of fruits and sweetmeats had been placed on it, as well as a decanter of wine and two glasses. Argath filled the glasses herself and handed one to the ambassador.

"Help yourself, ambassador." She said, indicating the delicacies at the table.

Nicholaus' eyes fell on a bowl filled with red, shiny cherries. He promptly picked one out and put it in his mouth. 

"Delicious" he said, spitting out the stem and the pit in his handkerchief. He then took another one and repeated the procedure. 

"Your Majesty's had a busy day then?" He asked.

"Alas, the work of a sovereign ruler is never done" Argath sighed. "By the way, how is Daphne doing?"

"She is doing well. Thank you, Your Majesty." A knowing smile passed briefly over the ambassador's face. "I hope Your Majesty was not too disappointed when she came into this room only to find yours truly waiting for her?"

"Oh, not at all."

Last time, Argath had entered this room, prepared to meet with the Gavrozan ambassador, only to find herself face to face with a female leopard, wearing a blue dress which hugged her figure in all the right places, causing the Queen's tongue to temporarily get stuck to the roof of her mouth.

"Greetings, Your Majesty" the young woman had said, curtsying. "I am Daphne, ambassador Nicholaus' niece. My uncle has regrettably taken ill, but he has sent me in his stead. I hope that Your Majesty is not offended by this."

So, that's your game, Nicholaus, Argath had mused, as she kept eyes focused on Daphne's oval-shaped face. You send this minx my way thinking that she'll distract me. How adorable. Its so transparent that I'm not sure whether I should be insulted or not.

"On the contrary" she had replied. "Have a seat, We trust that your uncle has filled you in?"

"A most charming young lady, your niece" Argath said to Nicholaus, while she put a piece of licorice in her mouth. "We should welcome an opportunity to get to know her better."

"Your Majesty most certainly will" the leopard replied. "I intend for Daphne to become my successor, one of these days."

"A female ambassador? Will your King agree to such a thing? After all, in all of your country's history, no woman has ever held that position."

"Its a controversial choice and its bound to cause some waves back home. Still, its ultimately His Majesty's decision and I believe I can convince His Majesty that Daphne is the right person for the job."

"How is King Frederic doing these days? We heard that he suffered a stroke recently. We trust he is still alive."

For a second, Nicholaus was unable to conceal his surprise, then he inclined his head.

"Your Majesty is well informed. The King is still with us, though he has grown weaker and the doctors fear his next stroke will be his last. After all, he is not a young man anymore."

Argath nodded. She recalled when she had first met King Frederic, during a diplomatic mission to Gavroza. At that time, the current King had been a cub, sitting at the feet of his father's throne with a multicolored ball in his lap. 

Now that cub has become an old lion; one whose mane is graying and whose teeth are soft, whereas I still have my youth and will continue to have it when Frederic's own son becomes as old as his father. 

The Thought caused the Queen to smirk inwardly; to her, this was yet more proof of the superiority of dragons over all other races.

"That is one of the reasons why I requested to meet with Your Majesty. With the King in a weakened state, he is beginning to worry about the state of the nation that he is leaving behind to his son and certain parties within the government are using this to try to persuade His Majesty to move away from Vinoli. They believe that agreeing to your proposition was a mistake on the King's part and I fear that the King is starting to find their arguments persuasive."

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. Before the Vinolian army had set off for Guanaca, she had sent an emissary to King Frederic's court, carrying gifts as well as a message. The Gist of the message was this: If, once King Faljan had reclaimed his throne and he and Argath were wed, Gavroza made a promise to acknowledge this marriage and stand by Vinoli's side against any who would contest it, all Gavrozan merchants would be allowed to traverse Guanacan territory without having to pay any fees or taxes, for a period of three years. Argath thought that this had been an extremely generous offer on her part, especially considering that it did not require Frederic to take any action himself. In fact, all he had to do was to remain at home and not send any support to Bashar. And now he was beginning to have second thoughts? 

Of all the spineless...

Argath could feel anger well up inside her, her shoulders shook with barely restrained anger. 

Nonetheless, she kept her feelings at bay and spoke in a calm voice:

"The Vinolian army" she began, "is the best trained and most well-equipped army in the World. We concede that this siege has been going on for some time, but mark Our words ambassador, Guanaca will fall and when that day comes and the city is in Our hands, Vinoli will forget neither her friends nor her enemies."

She paused to let her words sink in. In the silence that followed, the sound of Nicholas swallowing another cherry seemed to fill the room. 

"There is another reason why this faction seeks to influence our King against Your Majesty", the ambassador remarked, dabbing his lips with his handkerchief.

"Oh? And what pray tell may that reason be?" Argath asked. Probably the fact that I am a woman who rules her own kingdom instead of being the subservient consort to a male monarch, she thought scornfully.

"There is a rumor" Nicholas said, his finger-tips touching each other. "That Your Majesty had a hand in the unfortunate demise of your father."

Argath staggered backwards, as though she had received an unexpected blow. She stared at the ambassador, her eyes wide open.

How is this possible? She thought, sparks flying as the gears in her head spun rapidly. I thought I had squashed that rumor years ago. How can it have reached all the way to Gavroza? I better put Lorenzo on the job; he'll find out who the guilty party is. 

"By all the Gods!" She roared, bringing her fist down on the table with such force that the bowls jumped. "Who dare spread such vile and baseless rumors about Our person? When We find out who they are, We shall have them drawn and quartered!"

She put her hand on the back of Nicholaus' seat and thrust her face so close to his that the ambassador could see the thin wisps of smoke coming out from her nostrils. For the first time since he could remember, Nicholaus felt fear seize him. He had never seen the Queen of Vinoli like this before and he was afraid that she would forget that he was a foreign diplomat, whose person was inviolable and strike him, or worse. Instinctively, he bared his claws.

The Sound of claws being bared acted on Argath's anger like a bucket of water on a fire. She seemed to deflate like a balloon and took a few steps back, her expression now no longer conveying white-hot anger, but a deep sorrow over how cruel and unjust people could be.

"Forgive Us for loosing Our temper, ambassador" she said in a voice that sounded as if it was on the verge of breaking. "Its just..." She shook her head, as if in disbelief. "We loved Our father and it pains Us that some people are so cynical as to believe that that love was feigned on Our part."

"I understand, Your Majesty" Nicholaus said."It can not be easy for anyone to have such suspicions hanging over them. Rest assured that I, for one, regard them as nothing more than complete nonsense of no consequence."

At this point, Argath decided that the time had come to bring their conference to an end.

"Thank you, ambassador" she said. "We appreciate your support." Once again ,she offered her ring for the leopard to kiss. "Give Our regards to King Frederic and remind him of the friendship between his kingdom and Ours."

"I shall, Your Majesty. Farewell, it has been a pleasure and an honor, as always."

Just as Nicholaus was about to leave, there was a knock on the door. Argath bade whoever it was to enter and a shrew wearing a servant's livery appeared in the doorway.

"Forgive the disturbance, my Queen" the shrew said and if a voice could grovel, his would. "A dispatch has arrived for you. Its from General Jeraddin."

Argath and Nicholaus traded looks.

"Give it here" the Queen demanded, her heart pounding with excitement. 

She broke the seal on the dispatch using one of her claws, unfolded it and began to read. She then handed the dispatch over to Nicholaus.

"Here, ambassador" she said."We think you should read this yourself."

Nicholaus looked down at the cursive letters in front of him. Half-way through, he paused and shook his head, as if he could not believe what he had just read and yet, there it was; as undeniable as the existence of gravity or the changing of the seasons:

Guanaca had fallen.

Grim Fandango Revisited

"Ever cheated on your husband?"

"Mr. Calavera, there's no ring on my finger."

"There's no skin on it either."

-In-game dialogue between Manny and Meche.

Originally released in 1998, Grim Fandango was the penultimate adventure game made by the kings of the genre: LucasArts (sorry, Sierra), as well as their last truly great game (no offense to any Escape From Monkey Island fans out there).

I originally played Grim Fandango in the early years of the 2000s and, at the time, it immediately earned a spot among my all-time favorite games. With lots of water having passed under the bridges, since I last played it , I decided that it was high time for me to revisit Grim Fandango, in order to see if my feelings for it had changed since last time.

This time, I chose to experience the game in its remastered version, which was released by Double Fine back in 2015. This version comes with updated graphics and the option to play with the mouse (originally, Grim was only playable via keyboard), but besides that remains the same game as it was back in the late 90's.

For those of you new to the game, Grim Fandango takes place in The Land of the Dead; a dimension inspired by equal parts classic film noir and Mexican culture, particularly the Day of the Dead (it was actually via Grim Fandango that I first became aware of this holiday).

The Player assumes the role of Manuel Calavera a.k.a. Manny, a travel agent at the Department of Death, whose job it is to sell travelling packages to the recently deceased. Exactly what package you qualify for is based entirely on what kind  life you used to lead prior to your death: If you were an exceptionally good person, then you receive a ticket to the Number Nine; a state-of-the-art express train that will take you straight to the Land of Eternal Rest. However, if you've royally screwed up your life or been a real piece of shit, then you are stuck doing the job Manny does now, until you've paid off your karmic debt.

Things used to go well for Manny; he had a large office and was the top salesman on his floor. That's all in the past when the game begins though. Now, Manny's office is in what used to be the supply closet and his smarmy rival Domino gets all the good clients, leaving Manny stuck with no-good bums who, at best, only qualify for the Excelsior Line (i.e. a walking stick). Desperate, Manny decides to steal one of Domino's clients, the saintly Mercedes 'Meche' Colomar.
Unsuprisingly, Manny's plan backfires, causing Meche to lose her spot on the Number Nine and condemning her to wander the Land of the Dead on foot for four years, like any lowly sinner. Having been fired from his job, Manny, accompanied by his driver; the demon Glottis, embarks on a journey to find Meche and make things right. In doing so, Manny finds himself mixed up in a conflict between his former employer and the Lost Souls Alliance; a secret organization bent on uncovering the corruption within the Department of Death.

Out of all the classic adventures made by LucasArts, Grim Fandango has, by far, the best writing: Marrying the great comedy seen in games like Day of the Tentacle, with a genuinely gripping plot; one whose twists and turns keep the player engaged from the moment when Manny makes his first appearance on screen, to when the credits begin to roll.Personally, I'd say that the game reaches its heights during the second year, Rubacava is one of my favorite settings found in any game and as always, I found myself almost reluctant to leave it.

Great as the story may be, the game's greatest asset is its cast. Perhaps more than any other developer in the genre, LucasArts was known to populate their games with strong characters and Grim Fandango is no exception to that rule: Each and every character in the game, from the major players like Manny and Glottis, to the tiniest bit-parts, all have distinct, memorable personalities and are brought to life (or after-life) perfectly by their voice-actors. Some characters I love, others (like Domino), I love to hate, but there's not a single character in this game that has not left an impression on me, one way or the other.

Gameplay-wise (the most important aspect of any game), Grim Fandango comports itself well. In the past, I never had much trouble with the game's original keyboard controls, but I can't deny that being able to play the game with the mouse is a boon indeed. Puzzles are usually good as well; being challenging, but rarely a source of frustration. Although I've never been a fan of some of the more time-based puzzles, such as the one involving the player having to control a forklift in an elevator.

As you have probably guessed, my feelings toward this game remain unchanged. Grim Fandango will always have a place among my favorites, everyone who has an  interest in adventure games (or games in general) should travel the afterlife in the company of Manny Calavera at least once before they have to enter it for real.

Gallery

Siblings

"Mom is going to be fine, isn't she?" Risha asked, turning to her father with a concerned look on her nine-year old face.

"Of course, dear" Jeraddin replied, smiling.

He reached out and ruffled the fur on his daughter's head.

"Rose is with her, she is the best midwife in the district. She helped bring you into the World."

Though he had uttered these words with assurance, Jeraddin was far more worried than he let on. A couple years after the birth of their daughter, he and Nasari had decided to conceive another child. It had ended in a miscarriage and, as a result, Nasari had fallen into a deep depression. Risha had been too young at the time to remember it, but Jeraddin could still vividly recall that dark time in their lives.
Eventually, Nasari had managed to overcome it and life had resumed its normal course and now, their second child was about to be delivered. Though not particularly religious, Jeraddin sent a silent prayer to every deity whose name he could remember that the birth would be a success, not just for the child's sake, but the mother's as well.

"What are you hoping for?" Risha asked suddenly. "A boy or  a girl?"

Jeraddin thought about it for a moment. He loved his daughter; she was the apple of his eye and certainly if his second child turned out to be a girl as well, he would love her just as much.
That said, he could not deny that he was holding out hope for a son. He told Risha as much.

"Yeah, a brother would be fine, I suppose" Risha said in an exaggeratedly casual manner, her shoulders briefly touching her whiskers.

Time passed at a snail's pace. Soon, Risha's eyelids became heavy and she fell asleep. Albert the servant came by to ask if he should take her to her room.

Upon hearing her name, the young girl opened her eyes slightly and shook her head.

"No bed" she muttered, stifling a yawn. "I want to stay here."

Albert turned to his employer for the final decision.

"She can stay" Jeraddin said. "Just a fetch a blanket for her."

Albert left and returned momentarily with a blanket. Thanking him, Jeraddin took the blanket and wrapped it around Risha.

"I have some matters to tend to in the kitchen" the goat said. "I pray that the mistress will have a safe delivery."

"Thank you, Albert" Jeraddin replied warmly. "So do I."

 Having excused himself, Albert left once again. Jeraddin looked at Risha, who was visibly struggling with staying awake.

"Go to sleep" he said.

"Will you wake me when its time?"

"Of course."

At that moment, the sound of a door opening banished any thought of sleep from Risha's mind. She sat up straight in her chair and looked at her father: That was the door to the master bedchamber right now, wasn't it? The Next moment, Rose appeared in the hallway, wiping her paws on a towel.

"How did it go?" Jeraddin asked, rising half-way from his seat, the sweat of trepidation hanging on his brow.

"You can relax, General" the midwife replied. "Everything went well; the baby is born and both he and your wife are doing fine."

Jeraddin breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to ask another question, but Rose anticipated him:

"Yes" she said. "you may go in and see them."

This was all Jeraddin needed to hear. His eyes met his daughter' and then, the two lynxes rushed towards the master bedroom. Rose watched them go, shaking her head in amusement. Then, she sat down in the chair previously occupied by the house's owner, in order to get some well-deserved rest.

******

Nasari was lying in bed, nursing her newborn child, when her husband and daughter came in.

"How do you feel?" Jeraddin inquired, as he and Risha approached the bedside.

"I'm fine" Nasari replied. "Look, Jer, it's our son. Isn't he the most beautiful boy that you've ever seen."

Jerddin leaned down and looked at the tiny bundle that his wife cradled in her arms.

"Incredible" he said, shaking his head in awe. "He is the spitting image of his mother. Its like I'm looking at a tiny, male version of you, dear."

"He has his father's eyes though" Nasari said and turned to her first-born. "Risha, say hello to your brother."

Risha looked at the newcomer. When her parents had told her that she would soon have a little brother or sister, she had been opposed to the idea. Why do they need another one for? She had asked herself. They already have me, am I not enough? Then, as it had a tendency to do; Risha's fertile imagination had begun leading her down an unpleasant path.

"Are you guys tired of me?" She had asked, her voice quivering.

"Oh, sweetie, of course not" Nasari had said, wrapping her arms around her little girl.

"When the baby is here, it will take up most of our time" Jeraddin chimed in. "However, that does not mean we love you any less."

Risha had felt reassured by these words, though she was still not very keen on the idea. Feeling a sting of jealousy at the knowledge that soon, the days when she had a monopoly on her parents' affection would be gone forever.
Well, now that day was here and as she looked down at her brother, Risha could sense any lingering feelings of jealousy disappear. After all, it simply wasn't possibly to be jealous of something so tiny and adorable.

"What are you going to call him?" She asked.

"Well" Nasari said and looked at her husband. "There is a name I've always wanted to give a son, if we ever had one..."

"Any name you decide is fine by me, dear" Jeraddin said magnanimously. "What did you have in mind?"

Nasari looked down at her infant son and smiled.

"Leorin" she said softly.

"Leorin" Jeraddin repeated the name to himself then nodded. "Very well, Leorin it is.

"Welcome to the World, little Leo" Risha said, a smile brightening up her face. "I know you can't understand me, but I'm your sister: My name is Risha."

She leaned in closer and whispered:

"Just wait, when you get older, the two of us are going to have so much fun."

*****

"Leo, what are you doing in my room?"

From the bed he sat on, Leorin looked at his sister. She was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a large towel.

"Hi Sis" he said cheerfully. "The Door was open so I let myself in." He looked around the room. "You have a lot of books here. Have you read all of them?"

"No, Leo, I have not."

"Can you read one of them for me? Please?"

Risha sighed. Normally, she would be more than happy to oblige. Right now, however,she was not in the mood.
Summer was here and Risha had returned home from school for the holidays. She had been out on her daily stroll when the clear summer skies of the past few days, suddenly and without warning, had changed from blue pitch-black and a heavy rain had begun to fall over the roads and fields of the countryside. Risha had returned home completely drenched and all she wanted to do now was change into some dry clothes.
She was just about to tell the hyperactive five-year old who was currently dangling his legs on her bed to get out so she could do that, when her brother piped up again:

"This book looks interesting" he said, brandishing a slim volume that had been lying next to him on the bed.
Risha recognized it immediately; her eyes widened and a pink blush spread across her cheeks.

"Leo" she said, taking a step forward, one paw outstretched. "You better give me that book."

"It was hidden under your mattress" Leorin continued, paying no attention to his sister's demands.
"What was it doing there?"

He flipped the book open on a random page and stared at it with a puzzled look on his face.

"Sis, I don't understand what's going on in this picture. Can you tell me?"

He turned the book around so his sister could see.
Risha's blush assumed a deeper shade of red. She remembered an old story she had read once; it had been about a man who had killed his younger brother and although she knew she could never do anything like that to her own sibling, right now, she felt a deep sympathy for the man in the story.

"If I do, will you please get out?" She asked exasperatedly.

"I will."

"Fine" Risha sighed. "The Tigress was bitten by a snake and her friend is sucking the venom out. There, are you satisfied?"

Leorin seemed to consider this for a moment, then decided that he was and nodded.

"That makes sense" he said. "I'll leave you alone now, Sis."

Risha watched him get out of her bed and walk towards the door. Once she was alone, she opened her wardrobe and changed into a new pair of clothes.
Later, at the dinner-table Leorin turned to his father:

"Dad, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, my boy" Jeraddin replied, putting down his fork. "What is it you want to know?"

"If one of your friends have been bitten by a snake and you have to suck the poison out, does it work better if the two of you are naked?"

"Is something wrong, sweetie?" Nasari asked Risha, who was bent over coughing loudly. "Do you need help?"

She was just about to slap her daughter on the back,  when Risha shook her head.

"I'm fine, Mom" she said, lifting her head up. "I just swallowed some water down the wrong pipe, that's all."

Chapter 51

Earlier that night, a squadron led by Jeraddin, arrived outside Guanaca. It made halt at the base of the city's massive walls. As is usual for the desert, the nightly air was chilly and despite all of them having fur, the men wrapped their cloaks tighter around them. Then, they sat down and waited, speaking in hushed tones to themselves, while either consuming what meager rations they had brought with them, or polishing their swords.

Sounds of revelry came drifting out from within the city, reaching the ears of those outside. Faljan heard it and his large ears perked up, as he gazed wistfully up at the dark sky.

"Its been a long time since I heard the music of my homeland" the fennec said with a sigh. "What do you think, General? Its beautiful, isn't it?"

Jeraddin had to agree that it was.

"Your Highness did not have to come along for this" He said, turning to the younger male. "You
could have waited in the camp with the rest of the army."

"I am aware of that, General" Faljan replied, nodding in agreement. "But I wanted to be among the first to see that traitor Bashar's face when he realizes that he has lost everything." The Thought of this caused the young fennec's face to split into a wide, schadenfreudian grin. "Oh, I can hardly wait" he continued, rubbing his paws together with anticipation.

"I am afraid Your Highness will have to be patient for a bit longer" Jeraddin remarked. From his belt, the lynx produced a field-flask, filled with warm tea. He drank from it and, having wiped its muzzle with the fold of his cloak, offered it to Faljan, but the King politely refused:

"I appreciate it, General, but I am not cold."

Gradually, the music and the noise emerging from the other side of the walls started to abate and eventually it stopped completely.
Jeraddin and Faljan looked at each other with determination: The Time had come.

It did not take long for Jeraddin to locate the small door that his daughter had told him about. Pushing it open, he entered through it and motioned for the others to follow him.
The First sight that met the soldiers as they entered  the outskirts of Guanaca, consisted of several guards, lying on the ground, completely unconscious, with two empty jugs of wine next to  them.

"Are they dead?" Someone in the back whispered in a frightened tone.

"Who knows" a gruff voice replied. "More importantly - who cares?"

Jeraddin crouched down in front of one guard; he was breathing and there was a smell of alcohol mixed with something else on his lips that caused his nose to wrinkle. Satisfied, the lynx was about to stand up again, when he heard a series of light footsteps approaching. The Next moment, a voice reached his ears:

"Greetings to you General Jeraddin and to you as well, Your Majesty."

Jeraddin looked up and saw the voice's owner; a female antelope standing over him.

"Greetings" he said, getting to his feet and returning the newcomer's curtsy with a bow of his own.

"Are you Miriam, by any chance?"

"I am."

Jeraddin looked at Miriam. He had to admit that she was quite pretty, with her slender figure and big, soulful eyes. Not that any of that was important. No, what mattered was that Miriam happened to be one of the friends that his daughter had told them about: One of the slaves in Bashar's harem, that in exchange for their freedom, would help them restore Faljan to his rightful place on Guanaca's throne.

Or at least until he and Argath are married, Jeraddin thought.

When he was younger, the General had read of men and women who had made deals with demons. Deals which had always ended badly for them. Jeraddin gave Faljan a pitying look. Of course, there had been no demons around for centuries, but as far as Jeraddin was concerned, the Vinolian Queen was as close to being one as any person that he had ever met.

"Over the years, your daughter and I have told each other about our lives before we became part of Bashar's harem" Miriam continued. "There is no-one Risha holds in such high regard as you, General. It is an honor to meet you in person."

"I feel the same, young lady" Jeraddin replied warmly. "It is a privilege to meet someone whom my daughter puts such trust in as she does you."

With introductions out of the way, Jeraddin turned to his men and gave an order. Under the supervision of their commanding officer, the Vinolian soldiers carried the unconscious guards into the shed. Shortly thereafter, the soldiers came back outside; some of them were dressed in traditional Guanacan clothing, while others had put on the guards' uniforms. Jeraddin looked at his men and nodded, satisfied.

"Very good" he said. "Now, let's go."

And so, taking Miriam with them, the Vinolians headed out into the sandy streets of city. Streets, that save for the odd wanderer, who stopped and drunkenly saluted what he thought was the night watch out on patrol, were completely empty. With their bellies filled for the first time in a while, the Guanacans slept peacefully in their beds, feeling safe in the knowledge that the enemy had left and that things would go back to normal.

They are in for quite a shock when they wake up in the morning, Jeraddin mused, as he and the others headed towards the palace.

At the palace, the gates were open and so, the squadron waltzed right in, as if it had been invited. Which it had been, in a manner of speaking.
By the entrance, more guards lay on the ground, their breathing the only sign that they had not gone to join their ancestors. 

Jeraddin ordered the sleeping guards to be stripped of their weapons and with that task carried out, the squadron proceeded into the court yard.
This was where Bashar had held his victory celebration and while the guests had left, signs of the festivities still remained in the form of wine-stains on the tables, broken glass and a chair that had been tipped over.

Suddenly, a door opened and some of the soldiers reached for their swords. They relaxed, however, when they saw that the people stepping into the court yard was only a group of young women of varying species. One of them, a white hare, who could not have passed twenty, came up to the group and after a quick glance at Jeraddin, beckoned Miriam to come closer.

"Is that...?" She whispered in the antelope's ears.

Miriam nodded and whispered something back.

"General Jeraddin at your service, ladies." Jeraddin introduced himself and bowed to the slave-girls.

"Allow me to extend my deepest thanks for your valuable help."
"Are we really going to be set free when this is over ?" Viola asked, in a tone that made it clear that such a thing seemed incredible to her, but that she nonetheless held out hope that it would come true.

"Of course" Jeraddin said. "You have my word of honor. Not as leader of the Vinolian army, but as the father of one of your own."

"You have mine as well" Faljan said, feeling that he needed to add something to this conversation. "I swear it on the crown that is rightfully mine."

With the women reassured, Jeraddin ordered the squadron to split into thee groups. One group were to remain here and protect the women, just in case. A second group, guided by Miriam, would secure the Vizier and the other members of Bashar's council. Finally, the third group, which included Jeraddin and Faljan would head to the Royal Quarters to take Bashar prisoner.

However, when the third group stepped into the King's bedchamber, no-one was there. Jeraddin and Faljan stared at the large, empty bed in front of them. The Fennec was the first to give voice to his thoughts:

"General" he said, turning to Jeraddin, his voice the vocal incarnation of  frustration and disappointment. "What is this? Where are they?"

The Lynx did not reply. Instead, he bent down over the side of the bed that had Bashar's scent on it and touched it. There was still some warmth there. Then he did the same on the side he deduced had been occupied by his daughter. That side was considerably colder.

Meaning that Risha must have left the room while Bashar was still asleep, Jeraddin thought, his eyebrows touching each other. To do what exactly and where did Bashar go? Judging from the amount of body-heat left in his mattress, he must have woken up recently, which means he can't have gone too far. Most likely, he's still on this floor. 

Turning to one of his men, Jeraddin was about to give the order to spread out and search the floor when his ears and those of everyone else in the vicinity, was pierced by a shriek, coming from somewhere nearby.

*****

Holding his paw to his face, trying to stem the blood that gushed from the gash that began at the corner of his eyes and continued his cheek, Bashar glared at Risha. In his mind, fear and hatred had ceased their battle and made peace, agreeing to share power.

"You are crazy" he whimpered, his face the color of ash. "Completely insane."

"Beg me for mercy" Risha said.

Bashar's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Beg me for mercy" the female lynx repeated, baring her teeth. "Debase yourself; kiss my feet and beg forgiveness for all the times you've touched me with your filthy paws. Do this and I will grant you a swift death. I will even let you keep your..."

She froze suddenly and the final word died on her lips. Puzzled, Bashar craned his head backwards and saw that the group led by the Vinolian General and his cousin, had appeared on the balcony. He and Risha had been so absorbed in their private world of hatred that they had failed to notice the sound of footsteps approaching, until the source of that sound stood in front of them.

"This was not part of our arrangement" Faljan said, his voice sharp with anger."That man belongs to Guanacan justice."
Meaning me, he thought.

"He belongs to me" Risha growled, brandishing her bloodied dagger. "I am going to kill this filth. It is my right."

She then turned to Jeraddin.

"Do not try to stop me, Dad."

"I won't."

Risha stared at her father, the ferocious expression on her face morphing into one of surprise.

"You won't?"

Jeraddin shook his head. Risha looked down at her former tormentor, then looked back at her father. 

He was standing with his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest. On his face was a look of casual interest, as though he was in the audience of a play.

Is he really not going to stop me? Risha wondered. Wait, do I want him to stop me?

"He deserves this!" Risha called out. "He deserves to die!"

"No-one here is going to argue with you on that" Jeraddin replied in a calm voice. "Go ahead, kill him."

Risha wished that Jeraddin would stop looking at her.  She raised the dagger. It shook. Why is it shaking? Then, it slipped out of her grip and hit the ground with a clatter.

An anguished cry escaped Risha's lips and she sank to her knees. The Next moment, two strong arms wrapped themselves around her and she buried her face in her father's chest and wept.

"Why? She sobbed, looking up into Jeraddin's face, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why can't I do it? I want to...I..."

Hugging his first-born tightly, Jeraddi stroked the fur on her head, the way he used to do when she had been a child. 

"It's fine, Risha" he whispered. "Its over now. Come."

Jeraddin helped his daughter to her feet and began leading her away from the balcony.

"He's all yours, Your Majesty" he said, as the two of them walked past Faljan. As they exited the balcony, Risha could not help herself, but looked back one last time and saw her father's soldiers surrounding the man who had held her life in her paws for the past five years and drag him away.

Chapter 50

Upon returning to the palace, Risha was told at once that the King wanted to see her.

 The Lynx-woman received this message with some surprise; considering how early it was in the morning, she had thought that King Bashar would still be asleep. Or, perhaps, he had never gone to bed at all, but had spent the night waiting for the return of his favorite and news as to whether or not the plot against his cousin had been a success. 

In the Council-Chamber, Bashar and the Vizier were both seated around a  small table, upon which sat a pot of coffee and two empty cups, all made in silver.

"Well" Bashar said, after Risha had done the customary greeting and had sat down. "How did it go? Did he touch it?" His voice was trembling with excitement.

"He did" Risha replied. "Several times."

Upon hearing this, the fennec threw his head back and howled with laughter.

"Splendid! Splendid!" He said. "Finally, all my troubles are over."

At this point, the Vizier spoke up:

"Layla" he said, turning his piercing eyes on Risha. "According to the guards, you came back alone. What happened to your escort?"

"The Vinolian General are keeping him as a hostage" was Risha's answer. "He wishes to let Your
Majesty know that if anything should happen to Faljan during the two-day reprieve, the hostage will be executed."

The Fennec and the gila exchanged looks.

"This fellow" the King asked. "Does he have any family? A wife or children?"

"No, Your Majesty" replied the Vizier. "He was a bachelor."

Bashar nodded, satisfied with the answer.

"Good" he said. "That means we won't have to give compensation to his widow."

Having made this remark, the King told his Vizier to leave, he wished to be alone with Layla. Once they were by themselves, Bashar motioned for his favorite to sit down next to him.

"Just think" he whispered as he nuzzled her neck and twisted her nipples between his fingers, causing her to moan involuntarily. "In just a few days, I shall announce my engagement to you and you will be Queen of Guanaca."

"Your Majesty is too good to me" Risha murmured.

Suddenly, the King's paw was on her back, pushing her down into the cushion. Knowing what would come next, Risha closed her eyes until they became thin lines and dreamt herself back to happier times.

*****

Two days later, King Bashar received word that the Vinolinan General was outside the gate, wishing to talk to him. With a knowing smile, the fennec climbed up onto the battlements of his city and stood looking down at his antagonist.

"Ah, General" he called out in a chipper tone. "How are you this fine day? I know that the two days have passed and no doubt you and my cousin have come to put him back on the throne, as per our agreement." He paused, as if he had just noticed something. "Where is Faljan by the way?" He asked, his eyebrows raised in feigned surprise. "I do not see him anywhere."

You hypocrite, Jeraddin thought. Enjoy yourself, while you can.

"I bring you sad news, King Bashar" he said out-loud. "Though, I should think more sad for us than they are for you."

"Oh? By all mean, let us hear these news."

"It seems as though your cousin fell ill shortly after your messenger graced our camp with her presence. Our army-doctors did their best to save him, but unfortunately their efforts were for naught: King Faljan drew his last breath earlier to day."

"How unfortunate. General, I hope you do not suspect me of having a hand in my cousin's demise."

Jeraddin shook his head.

"Not at all Your Majesty. Our doctors examined the body and could find no sign of foul play."

"And what, may I ask, do you intend to do now, General?"

Jeraddin shrugged his shoulders resignedly.

"What can I do? Without Faljan the Vinolian army no longer has an excuse to maintain its presence here. I shall take my men and return across the sea, having already sent words ahead to the Queen of my defeat."

Having said this, Jeraddin bowed his head, then raised it again and looked straight up at his adversary:

"I have emerged victorious from every battle I've fought" he said. "Everyone, except for this one. I salute you, King Bashar."

With that, Jeraddin raised his fist high into the sky, held it there for a couple of seconds and then, turned on his heel and walked back to the camp. There, he signaled for one of his officers to come over.

"We're moving out" he said. "Tell the others."

The Vinolian army worked with typical efficiency, the order of its commander had barely been issued before the whole camp was bustling with activity and in almost no time at all, the camp was no more and the thousands of souls that had lived in it; officers, private soldiers, cooks and medics, all began their long walk back to the coast, where the ships were waiting to take them home.
Later that day, King Bashar issued a proclamation, informing his subjects that the siege around their city had ended and that life could return to normal. The Citizens of Guanaca received this information with silence, then they each turned and embraced the person standing next to them, tears of relief streaming down their faces.

*****

Later that night, Guanaca's monarch found his sleep disturbed by sounds coming from somewhere nearby. At first, the King dismissed the sound as merely audible hallucinations, brought about by him having had indulged himself too much during the victory feast he had held for his subjects and tried to get back to sleep, but to no avail. He decided to get a second opinion.

"Did you hear something, Layla?" He asked, sitting up.

There was no answer. Bashar reached out to shake Layla's shoulder, only to find that he was alone in the bed. For a moment, the fennec was puzzled by this; he knew with certainty that when he had left the celebration and staggered to bed, his favorite had accompanied him. What's more, he recalled that she had helped undress him and then had climbed in bed with him. So, how come she wasn't here now?

Bashar shook his head in dismay: With what right did Layla leave his room without him having given her permission to do so? This had never happened before. Apparently, there was still some small spark of rebellion in her that the desert had not managed to extinguish. Oh, well, he just had to make sure that said spark was not fanned into a flame...

Another sound reached Bashar's ears and this time, he did not doubt its authenticity. It sounded like a door being opened; the door leading to the inner courtyard, to be more precise. Intrigued, the King called for a servant to investigate, but not a soul appeared to receive his orders. Bashar began to sweat; a foreboding sensation that there was something wrong, came over him.

Draping himself in his dressing gown, the King left his bedchamber and headed for the balcony which afforded the best view of the court-yard.

Concealing himself in the shadows, Bashar looked down at the court-yard and what he saw almost made his eyes fall out of their sockets.

Several armed men had entered the court-yard, at their head was the Vinolian General and standing next to him, very much alive, was Bashar's cousin.

This can not be, Bashar thought to himself, his mind reeling. Faljan is supposed to be dead, Layla told me so....

The Realization hit the King like a fist.

That bitch he thought, his face contorting itself into a grimace, as the anger rose up in him, a red haze passing over his eyes. That treasonous bitch!

"The Royal quarters are right up those stairs. We are sure to find my cousin there, General."

The Sound of his cousin's  voice brought Bashar back to his senses. This was no time to loiter, he had to get out of here and get help. Come to think of it, why had no-one heeded his summons earlier? When this was over heads would roll and the King knew whose head would be first on the chopping-block.

"Going somewhere, Your Majesty?"

As though she had been an actor waiting in the wings, the person who had been on Bashar's mind, stepped out on the balcony. Looking at her, the King saw that she was wearing a man's clothes; specifically the type of outfit suitably for traveling in the desert. Then, he noticed the long, sharp dagger gleaming in her left paw.

"How could you do this, Layla?" He asked, his voice quivering with both anger and self-pity. "After all the kindness I've shown you?"

"I am not going to waste my time explaining myself to you, Bashar" Risha said, her voice filled with disdain. "You wouldn't understand."

"I lavished you with gifts" he argued, his voice cracking."I would have made you my Queen."

"I'd sooner be a vagrant rummaging through garbage", Risha snarled. She bared her teeth and Bashar could see the hatred illuminating her features. It was a hatred which had lain dormant for years, hidden behind a mask of submissiveness, waiting for the moment when it could finally break free.

Confronted with it and with the fact that he was facing an armed opponent with no weapon of his own, the King found himself reacquainted with an emotion he had not felt in years:

Fear.

The Lynx and the fennec began to circle each other, neither taking their eyes off of the other. Bashar could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow, but he dared not wipe them away, out of fear that just a moment's distraction would ruin whatever chance he had of escaping his enemy.

If only I had a weapon, he thought, bitterly. Than, I'd show her.

The King's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by 'Layla' suddenly charging him. It happened so quickly that he did not have time to move out of the way and he found himself pressed up against the balustrade. Then, before Bashar had the chance to do anything else,  a sharp pain, more intense than any he had felt before, surged through his body, originating from the area between his legs. His entire being wanted to scream, but the only sound he could manage was a pathetic grasp, as he sank to his knees.

Risha surveyed the living heap at her feet with a look of grim satisfaction. She had dreamt off this
moment for so long, when she would finally be able to pay her so-called master back for the humiliation he had made her endure over the years. Oh, yes, this was only the beginning.

"Get up" she growled.

"Layla please..." Bashar pleaded, staggering to his feet. One paw raised in supplication while the other covered his groin"...Have mercy."

"My name" Risha growled, as she dug her claws into the fennec's throat. "Is not Layla."

She pondered for a second how else she could avenge herself on Bashar, now that she had him in her grasp. Then, inspiration struck her:

Back when she was a child, one of Risha's favorite books had been the classic adventure story Tears of Scarlet, a perennial favorite among Vinolians of all ages for its many thrilling episodes. The Book was famous for one scene in particular and that was the scene from where it derived its title. In this scene, the novel's female protagonist had fought a duel with her arch-nemesis, which had led to her disarming the cur.
Knowing that the villain had been inordinately proud of his good looks, the heroine had decided to hit him where she knew it would hurt him the most, giving him two long, deep scars which ran from the corner of each eye and down to his whiskers.

It had been many years since Risha had last read Tears of Scarlet, but she could still remember the excitement, not to mention the triumph she had felt on behalf of its protagonist when she had first read the novel. However, she had never identified as strongly with the narrative's heroine, than she did on this night in Guanaca.

"In the past, you've made me shed tears" she whispered to Bashar, quoting from the book. "Now I shall repay that favor, by making you shed tears of scarlet."

Chapter 49

The Sun had set, when two figures emerged from a small door in Guanaca's door and stepped out into the desert.
The First figure was a male skink who wore a short sword in his belt and carried a finely decorated, lacquered chest. Walking behind him was none other than King Bashar's favorite slave, Layla; her face hidden behind a veil, as was proper. The Two of them headed in the direction of the Vinolian camp.
As she walked over the dunes, the bracelets around her wrists and ankles jingling softly, Risha could feel her heart beat faster with excitement. Soon, she would stand in front of her father. Soon, her years of suffering would come to an end and the best part was that it was Bashar who had unwittingly made the coming reunion between the two of them possible.

Earlier that day, Risha had been summoned by the King to the council chamber. Surprised by this, for she had never been allowed to enter that part of the palace before, the female lynx had put the embroidery she had been working on aside and headed for the council chamber.
Upon arriving, she had found the large room empty, with the exception of Bashar himself and his Vizier.  After having knelt in front of the King, she had been told to sit down on a large cushion.
Once she was seated, King Bashar had begun by reminiscing loudly about the time when 'Layla' had first entered into his service.

"I do not blame you for being obstinate in the beginning" he had said reassuringly. "After all, if you are not a born of slave, it can be difficult to accept your new role in life."

The King's voice, as he had uttered these words had made the fur on Risha's arms stand on end. She wondered if she had ever hated her master as much as she did then.

"Still" Bashar had continued. "That's all in the past; ever since your ordeal in the desert, you have
never given me cause for complaint and I have not been ungrateful, have I?"

"Your Majesty have been good to me" Risha had replied promptly, the loathing she felt masked by an expression of humble gratitude.

"Indeed." The Smile which had appeared on Bashar's face as he recalled the favors he had lavished on his favorite, had been the very image of self-satisfaction. "Of course, you have proven yourself worthy of my kindness, many times over."

Risha recalled how, having said this, the King had leant forward and caressed her cheek, as he had done many times before. She shuddered, but it was not the cool night air that brought about this reaction.

"You would do anything to please me would you not?" The King had asked, his fingers tracing a path down the side of Risha's neck, eventually coming to rest on her left breast. She had answered in the affirmative.

The King had nodded, pleased with the answer. Of course, it was the only answer he had expected to hear from her, his most prized and pampered possession.

"I have decided to trust you with a very important mission" he had said, with a look of sudden seriousness on his face. "It is nothing difficult and its success is guaranteed. Once the mission has been carried out, I shall grant you your heart's greatest desire."

Behind her veil, Risha's mouth turned into a cynical smile, as she remembered what the King had said next.

"Greatest desire" he had repeated. "Yes, my dear, as soon as everything is back to normal I shall formally announce that I intend to make you my wife."

Risha had only stared at the King, completely stunned by this announcement. She had not been alone in her surprise; the Vizier had opened his mouth as if to voice protest, but a look from the King had convinced him to hold his tongue.

"Just imagine" the fennec had said excitedly. "In a short time, you will be Layla, Queen of Guanaca and future mother to its Princes."

"Your Majesty, this is too great an honor for me" Risha had protested. "Surely, there must be other women more deserving of it than I?"

"I do not care about anyone else" the King had replied in a decisive tone of voice. "Besides, when they find out the role you've played in getting rid of the Vinolains, everyone will sing your praises. Isn't that so, Vizier?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty" the gecko's voice had been dry as the desert air.

"In that case" Risha had said, "perhaps Your Majesty will divulge the plan to his future betrothed, so that she might carry it out?"

******

Inside the largest tent in the Vinolian camp, Jeraddin, his staff and King Faljan had gathered for a meeting, when the flap of tent was pushed aside and one of the soldiers who had been on guard duty, became visible in the opening.

"Pardon me, Sirs" the soldier said, saluting first Jeraddin, then Faljan and the others in order. "An emissary from Guanca has come requesting an audience with the General and His Majesty. Alone."

Suspicious looks were exchanged throughout the tent.

"Have this emissary been checked for any concealed weapons?" Jeraddin asked.

"Yes, General. We could not find any. Her follower is carrying a short sword in his belt, but it not concealed."

"I see" Jeraddin said. "Tell him that I can not allow men in the service of the enemy be in any proximity to King Faljan. If he is to accompany the emissary into the tent, he must lay down his sword. Otherwise, he must remain outside."

The Soldier left the tent and returned shortly afterwards with the message that the conditions had been accepted. Satisfied, Jeraddin ordered the others to leave. Once he and Faljan were alone, the lynx leaned forward and whispered in the fennec's ear:

"Your Majesty, I am not sure what your cousin is planning, but we must be prepared for anything. Be careful."

"I know, General" Faljan whispered back. "Fear not, I shall follow your lead."

Nodding, Jeraddin drew himself up in his full heigth and stared at the entrance to the tent. He found himself wondering what the emissary would be like; whether she'd be young or old? Thin or fat? And what sort of anthro she would be? It felt like ages since the General had last laid eyes on a woman. Sure, there were some females in the army, but it was not the same thing. He had always considered any soldier in the Vinolian army, male or feamel as a soldier first and foremost without taking their gender much into account. At that moment, Jeraddin felt a deep, intense desire to hear Nasari's voice whisper in his ears and feel the softness of her fur.

In that moment, King Bashar's envoy entered the tent and, after bowing, first to King Faljan and then to the General, began to speak. As soon as her voice reached his ears, Jeraddin almost staggered backwards in surprise.
From out of the emissary's mouth, somewhat muffled by the veil, came the last voice Jeraddin had expected to hear in this part of the World.

"General" she said. "King Faljan. Thank you for seeing me, I am Layla; servant of His Majesty King Bashar."

Layla? Why is she calling herself by another name? Jeraddin wondered, with a frown. Then he recalled the Guanacan custom of slaves being given new names by their owners. Jeraddin could feel the anger well up in him: Had that arrogant bastard Bashar made his daughter a slave? What about his son, was he a slave too?

Those questions would have to wait though. For the moment, Jeraddin composed himself and turned to the emissary with a dignified look on his face.

"We welcome the emissary from King Bashar" he said in a formal tone. "What message does she bring us from her ruler?"

Bowing, Risha handed her father an envelope, bearing Bashar's seal. Jeraddin studied the envelope briefly, then opened it and took out the letter and began to read it.

"Well?" Faljan asked, impatiently "What's in the letter? What does the usuper want?"

"According to this" Jeraddin replied, looking up from the letter. "To surrender."

Clearing his throat, he proceeded to read a passage from the letter out-loud:

"It has become clear to me that I underestimated the tenacity of the Vinolian army. As a ruler, my first concern is the well-being of my people and with that in mind, I can see no other way to end this siege and allow my city to live again, than to step down from the throne. I ask only that the General remember what he offered me when this siege began: That I am allowed to leave Guanaca unharmed. I also require a reprieve of two days to prepare for my abdication. Finally, though I do not deserve it and knows he will most likely not give it tome, I ask my Royal Cousin's forgiveness. When I so
basely usurped your rightful place, Faljan, I was under the influence of bad advisers, advisers, whom, its become clear to me now, took advantage of my overwhelming pride for their own purpose. You may not believe this, but there has been time when my bad conscience has kept me awake at night, gnawing at my very soul. I hope that, upon restoring to you what is rightfully yours, I shall be able to sleep soundly at night, once again..."

Having listened to his cousin's words, King Faljan shook his head and let out a cynical, dismissive snort.

"A fine letter, indeed" the fennec said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "He must really think we are a pair of silly, gullible fools. Don't you agree, General?"

"Hold on, if it please Your Majesty" Jeraddin replied. "There's more..."
"....Since I am well aware and perfectly understanding that you may both be suspicious of my sudden turnaround, I have brought a gift for my cousin. No, to call it a gift would be wrong; I am merely returning to him, something that was always his to wield: The Royal scepter of Guanaca. As you know cousin Faljan, this scepter is the ultimate sign of the Kings of Guanaca's authority."

Having put the lacquered chest down on the tent's floor, the skink now knelt down and opened it, revealing its contents for everyone to see.

As he stared at the scepter, Faljan could  feel old memories well up in him. Memories that he had almost forgotten, or had buried deep down in himself.
Memories of him and his cousin, back when they were friends and how he had always looked up at Bashar as the older brother he had never had. In Faljan's eyes, Bashar being willing to give up the scepter served as a greater proof that he was sincere in his remorse, than any words written on paper could. With tears in his eyes, he reached out to claim it.

"Don't touch that! Its been poisoned!"

The Emissary's voice filled the tent. All eyes turned towards her. Faljan, quickly drew back his paws and stared at the beautiful object that he had been an eyelash' length away from touching, as though he was afraid it would bite him.

"Traitor!" The Skink hissed his face livid with rage. He reached for his short-sword, but remembered that he had left it outside. "Traitor" he repeated once more, glaring at Risha.

The Female lynx, however, took no notice of him. She had eyes for only one person in the tent.

"Dad" she said, tearing off the veil. "Its me, Risha."

And with those words, she threw herself in her father's arms.

"I know, sweetie" Jeraddin said softly, his arms closing around his daughter in an embrace. "I recognized you at once."

"You did?"

"Of course. Well, I recognized your voice."

Father and daughter remained like this for a bit longer, forgetting about everything around them.

Then, King Faljan's voice brought them back to reality.

"Poison" the fennec muttered. "He poisoned the most revered symbol in Guanaca." Tearing his eyes away from the scepter, he turned to Risha.

"Young lady, I know not who you are, but you have saved my life and you will not find me ungrateful."

Meanwhile, Jeraddin called for the guards outside the tent and ordered them to take away the skink and put him somewhere out of harm's way. With that done, the General formally introduced the exiled King to his daughter.  Once introductions were out of the way, the three of them sat down.

"How did you know that the scepter had been poisoned?" Faljan asked, taking the lead in the conversation.

"Your Majesty's cousin told me so" was Risha's answer.

She proceeded to explain the plan as it had been told to her: The Poison which had been applied to the scepter came from the Vizier's own stock. In the past, he had made use of it to rid himself of a bothersome rival. It was a poison that killed by touch, the victim would merely have to come into contact with the object which had been prepared beforehand and the poison would slowly but surely make its way into the victim's bloodstream. Leading first to them falling sick and, inevitably, dying, two days later.

"I see" Jeraddin said, massaging his chin. "Hence the two day reprieve asked for in the letter."

King Faljan's teeth chattered.

"To think I was almost willing to let bygones be bygones".
"General" he said, turning to Jeraddin. "This is unforgivable, there will be no negotiations with my cousin anymore and no mercy."

Jeraddin nodded in agreement, his face was grim. Ever since the murder of King Sharan all those years ago, the lynx had come to view poisoning as the most vile way to kill someone.
Before, Jeraddin had not felt any real animosity towards Faljan's cousin. This revelation, however, combined with the fact that at least one of his children had been in the usuper-King's clutches, for who knows how long, made Jeraddin see red. He vowed that, come what may, Bashar would pay.

"Your Majesty" Risha said suddenly, temporarily banishing the grim thoughts that had begun to take form in her father's mind. "If I can help you retake your throne, what reward would you give me?"

"I already owe you my life, ask of me whatever you wish."

"In that case, I wish that those members of the Royal harem that desire to return to their own homes will be allowed to do so."

"Consider it done. Now, what did you have in mind?"

And so, Risha explained her plan and when she was done, she turned to her progenitor:

"What do you think, Dad?" She asked with the same eager look she had worn on her face, when, as a small child, she had rushed to show her parents a new drawing she had made.

"Its a good plan" Jeraddin said, giving his first-born a fatherly smile. "Yes, a very good plan" he added and meant every word of it.

*****

The Sun had begun to rise when Jeraddin escorted Risha out of the camp.

"I wish I wouldn't have to send you back there" he said, looking at Guanaca's walls. Right now, they seemed more foreboding than they had ever done before.

"I wish I didn't have to go back" Risha answered.

"There is something I have to ask you. Your brother, is he...?"

Risha shook her head.

"Leorin is not in Guanaca. Neither is Merees, but you need not worry about my brother; he's in good hands."

Jeraddin sent a silent 'thank  you' to whichever deities might be watching.

"There are so many questions I need to ask you, Risha".

"I will answer them all, Dad. When all of this is over." "There are some things about myself that I need to tell you" she said, after a moment's hesitation.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

The Two lynxes embraced again and then Risha, once again wearing her veil headed back to Guanaca and to King Bashar. Jeraddin watched her until he could no longer see her and then he turned away. As he returned to his tent, a thought suddenly struck the General: Had he misheard or had Risha referred to the Queen's sister by her first name?

Out of the Past

I found out recently that Kirk Douglas had passed away earlier this month, at the ripe old age of 104. Coincidentally, I learned this on the same day that I had decided to revisit a movie featuring the man: Out of the Past.

For those of you who have never heard of it, Out of the Past is a 1947 film noir, directed by Jacques Tourneur with a screenplay written by Geoffrey Homes based on his novel, Build My Gallows High (no, I haven't read the book, in case you were wondering).

The Movie stars Robert Mitchum in the role of Jeff Markham, a private-detective hired by big-time gambler Whit Sterling to track down Katie Moffet (Jane Greer), Sterling's lady-friend who left town with 40 000 of Sterling's cash, but not before leaving him with a farewell gift in the form of a gunshot wound.
Jeff catches up with Katie in Acapulco, only to be told by her that she did not take the money and just wanted to get away from Whit. Jeff, having fallen for Katie's considerable charms is inclined to believe her (at least, if it can get him something in return) and the two of them run off together. Then, one day, Jeff wakes up in a hotel-room, only to find Katie gone and at the same time, he learns that she steal the money after all. Oops.

This is not how the movie starts, however. Instead, Out of the Past begins with Jeff, having changed his last name to Bailey, operating a small-town gas-station. Of course, this would not be much of a movie if our protagonist remained a gas-pumper for the remainder of it and so, it does not take long for Mr. Markham/Bailey's past to come back to haunt him and he soon finds himself caught up in a tangled web of greed, deceit and revenge.

Out of the Past stands as one of the finest representatives of classic film-noir ever made, perhaps the finest. In it one finds all the ingredients associated with the genre, including a complex plot that twists and turns and immensely quotable dialogue, filled with cynical observations and snappy witticisms.

And of course, there is the cast, especially our three lead characters. If you have any experience or familiarity with the genre, than you have seen the types that these characters represent before. However, I would go so far as to say that the examples of these types provided by Out of the Past, are among the finest ever seen in a movie: Mitchum's Bailey/Markham is the cynical, fatalistic noir-protagonist; a man whose talent for survival is only matched by his ability to get himself into trouble. Greer's Moffett is the duplicitous femme fatale; changing allegiance whenever it suits her ("You are like a leaf blowing from one gutter to another" Jeff tells her at one point) while ultimately being loyal only to herself.

Last but not least, there's Douglas in his second-ever film role. His Sterling is a powerful villain, one whose pleasant demeanor  belies his ruthless, Machiavellian mind and capacity to hold a grudge. This is a man whose bite is far worse than his bark and who exemplifies the phrase, don't get mad, get even.

All three are, of course, brilliantly portrayed by their actors and are backed up by a strong supporting cast, including Paul Valentine as one of the coolest henchman I've seen in a movie.

Needless to say, Out of the Past comes highly recommended. I liked the movie a lot when I first watched it some years ago and revisiting it has only strengthened my appreciation for it (as you can no doubt tell by all the praise I've lavished on it in the previous paragraphs). Watch it if you haven't already and if you've never seen a noir before? Well, you can do a lot worse than to let this be your introduction to the genre.