Chapter 43

Three years had gone by since the death of King Sharan and the ascendance of his daughter to the Vinolian throne. A lot of things had changed in how the country was run and by now, it had been abundantly clear to the people of Vinoli that the new boss was not, in fact, the same as the old boss:

Following their decisive victory against their old rival Frigonia, the nation as a whole was riding high on a wave of what was either patriotism, or jingoism, depending on who you asked. Naturally, the recently crowned Queen was not slow at taking advantage of this.
Soon, posters began to appear all over the capital and later in every village and hamlet in the Kingdom. They were skillfully drawn posters of propaganda, depicting a tall, broad-shouldered figure wearing a shining armor with a golden V emblazoned on it and wielding a sword gainst a horde of grotesque, evil-looking creatures, some of which could be recognized by their clothing as being representative of certain other nations. Towering above all this was the Queen herself, gazing sternly at the horde,while placing a motherly hand on the figure's shoulder.

Other posters with similar motives followed suit, but the new propaganda machine did not stop there. Soon, every piece of art made in the kingdom, every poem, play and song that was written and performed, seemed to share the same goal: To prove Vinoli's superiority over all other nations and praise the benevolence and wisdom of its sovereign.
It must be said that this campaign worked extremely well: Many of the citizens of Vinoli had always held the opinion that theirs was a chosen nation, destined to rule the World and enthusiastically threw themselves behind the new regime's policies.

Not everyone was in agreement though; there were those who still honored the words of the old King, words by which their nation had lived for centuries. Namely, that every country had the right to self-government and that while their kingdom would stand against oppression where ever it could be found, it should never seek to impose its will on any sovereign nation.

Those who held on to this belief, were referred to as Sharanists and they clashed frequently with their rivals, referred to as either the Royalists or Argathanians. It should be mentioned that both sides called themselves the True Vinolians.

This rivalry came to an abrupt and violent end one day, on the second year of the new Queen's reign. It came in the form of a bomb, which exploded in an apartment block, killing over a hundred people and wounding another sixty.

This catastrophe shook the people of Vinoli to their core: Never had something like this occurred in their country. True, last year the oldest parts of the capital had mysteriously burned down, but that had been ruled an accident. This was different though; there could be no talk of accidents in this case: Whoever had put the bomb in the building had done so deliberately.

The Queen put Lorenzo in charge of the investigation and gave him carte blanche to use whatever means necessary in order to bring the perpetrators to justice. It did not take long for the fox to find an important lead; it turned out that among the people living in the building was a schnauzer named Merken. This Merken was an outspoken Royalist and he could often be seen in the taverns, or the square, denouncing the Sharanists with passionate and venomous speeches, that fanned the flames of hatred and had lead to increased violence between the two groups.

Using the means at his disposal, Lorenzo set about rounding up the most vocal Sharanists and had them brought to the city jail for interrogation. No-one knows what happened during the interrogation, but after two days, one of the suspects broke and confessed that he and two others had made the bomb, but that they had never intended to cause such a blood bath.

"The Person who gave us the instructions for how to build the bomb assured us that it would only take out Merken and whoever was with him at the time", one of them said.

"Oh? And who gave you these instructions?" Lorenzo asked, staring at them with his one eye.

All three replied that they did not know; the person in question had approached them wearing a hood that concealed their face and gloves, so it was impossible for them to tell what species they belonged to.
The trial went by quickly. Despite the best efforts of their attorney, the three terrorists were sentenced
to be executed in the town square the next day. On the day of the execution, the square was packed with people and as the wagon with the condemned men passed by, the crowd pelted them with insults, stones and rotten fruit.
Pale and covered in dirt and bruises, the three men were led up the scaffold and were made to kneel.

"Any last words?" The Executioner asked, his voice came muffled through his black hood.

The Three looked out at the crowd and shook their heads; what could they possibly say? That they were sorry? That they had not meant for so many to die? Somehow, it seemed unlikely that the crowd would care.
The Signal was given, the executioner raised his ax and brought it down again. He repeated this action two more times and then, it was over.

****

Two nights after the execution, a lone figure could be seen entering the harbor. The Figure, a marten, glanced around furtively, then reached into his coat-pocket and took out a small flask.
He then proceeded to uncork the flask and pour its contents down his throat.
"Aren't you going to offer me any?" A high-pitched voice asked.

Immediately, the marten turned around and found himself face to face with a female rat, dressed in black and wearing her hair in a bun. Her name was Rachel and she was one of the three leaders of the most powerful criminal gang in the city, if not the whole country.

"I upheld my end of our deal" said the marten, tossing the empty flask aside. "Time for you to uphold yours."

"I see that the liquor has made you bold", Rachel said. She smiled,  her front-teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Reaching down her modest cleavage, she took out a rolled-up parchment.

"Here you go" she said, tossing the parchment at the ground, in front of the marten's feet . "Your debts are now cancelled. Oh, and here's a bonus for your hard work:"

As the marten bent down to pick up the parchment, a pouch landed near it.

"Enough money for you to start a new life; the person I've been representing wanted you to have it"

"What about a ship?" The Marten asked, letting the pouch disappear into his coat pocket. "Did you find a ship that can get me out of here?"

"Indeed and its captained by someone for whom discretion is a byword. Ah, here he is now:"

Once again, the marten turned around and this time, found himself looking up at a tiger, sporting a captain's uniform.

"Well met, young fellow" the tiger said jovially. "My name is Captain Cerewan. The Lady here has explained everything, my ship is at your disposal.."

"Very well, Captain" said the marten. "Let us go, I am anxious to get aboard your ship immediately."

"Of course, the passenger's word is law. This way."

Well, Rachel thought, as she watched the two men leave. That's that, time to meet up with Lorenzo and tell him that everything has been taken care of.

With that, the female crime lord turned around and walked away, disappearing into the night.

A few days after, the citizens of Vinoli woke up to find that a new law had been declared in their country. From now on, any criticism of the Vinolian Government, or its Sovereign, no matter what form it was expressed in, would be considered an act of treason and dealt with accordingly.