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.

Chapter 48

Jeraddin wandered through the Vinolian camp, his head was filled with troubled thoughts.
It had soon become clear that taking Guanaca by force or cunning was a pipe-dream, the city was too well-protected for that and so, Jeraddin had ordered his army to encircle Guanaca, making it impossible for anyone to get in or get out.
By now, the siege had lasted for almost a year and yet, the gates remained closed.

In the Vinolian camp, the morale was becoming dangerously low; the rations of food and water had had to be cut in half and as a result, the men were getting restless and irritated. Almost daily, Jeraddin received reports of fights having broken out, often between the soldiers that were naturally born Vinolians and those who came from the conquered territories.

Oh, how Jeraddin wished he could just pack up and leave this dry, hot land with its merciless sun behind and return home. Home to Vinoli, where the cherry trees were no doubt in bloom, by now. Not that such an opinion was open to him. Taking a deep breath Jeraddin allowed his mind wander. It traveled back in time and for a moment, Jeraddin found himself standing on the carpet in the Queen's study, on the day of the Vinolian army's departure:

"We do not need to inform you, General" Argath told him, her fingers caressing a signed document lying on her desk. "What a benefit to Vinoli it would be if Guanaca came under Our influence. We do not care what methods you use to accomplish this or how long it takes, but it must be done."

"I won't fail you, Your Majesty" Jeraddin  answered. Wishing, as usual, when in the vicinity of his monarch, that he could be anywhere else.

"See that you do not, General." The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. "Should you fail, We might seriously consider looking among your officers for someone to take your place."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Argath told whoever it was to come in and the door opened and Lorenzo appeared on the doorstep.

"Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty" the fox said, using the casual tone, which no-one but him would dare address the Queen with. "I thought I'd tell you that the ambassador from Garzola has arrived."

"Escort him to the pavilion and tell him that I shall be with him shortly" the Queen replied, temporarily dropping the royal 'we' she usually employed when addressing her subjects. "I trust that the refreshments have been prepared, as I instructed?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good."

Argath flashed her fox one of those smiles she bestowed upon people when she was pleased with them. Having done this, she turned back to Jeraddin:

"You may leave, General. We look forward to receiving news of your victory. One more thing; King Faljan has insisted on accompanying you on this campaign. Make sure nothing happens to him, will you?"

Jeraddin left the Queen's study feeling a bit pale. He knew all too well what the consequences would be should Argath choose to replace him. As he walked through the palace corridors, his heart pounding in his chest, a female voice called out behind him

"General, please wait!"

Not recognizing the voice immediately, Jeraddin had turned around and saw that it belonged to none other than Miranda.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wondering what she could want from him.

Having been the one calling out , the female raccoon now seemed overcome by a sudden shyness.  Her eyes darted back and forth and she bit her lower lip as if embarrassed. Eventually, she had managed to gather up enough courage to respond to his question:

"Its Nasari, General. She heard you had been called to the palace. Unfortunately, she's busy doing her chores and can't come to take farewell as she would have liked, but she asked me to give you something..."

She  motioned for Jeraddin to bend down. He obeyed , wondering what Miranda had in mind and then, his eyes widened as a pair of unfamiliar lips pressed against his own.
At first, this action had taken Jeraddin completely by surprise. He had quickly composed himself and, having putting one paw on Miranda's shoulder, returned the kiss.

"That one is for you to bring back to Nasari when you see her" he explained and having bid Miranda farewell, he left the palace and headed for the harbor where the Vinolian army was ready to embark.

Running his paw across his face, Jeraddin returned to the present. He stared up at the walls of Guanaca. There they stood in the sun; tall, white and seemingly impenetrable. For a moment, it seemed to the lynx as if they were mocking him, as though a high-pitched laughter could be heard coming from their stones.

I have been too long in the sun, he thought to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. I had better lie down for a bit.

And with that, he turned around and headed towards his tent.

*******

Perhaps Jeraddin and his men would have found their situation easier to cope with, had they known that the situation on the other side of the walls was not much better than outside of them? In Guanaca, food was becoming scarcer by the day and the citizens had begun to grumble.

"To think the King had our private reserves confiscated, because the amount of food stored in the warehouse turned out to not be enough" some of them complained. "Now, those stores are almost completely depleted and we do not even have our own food to eat. Food that we earned with our money! What of our families? They are going to starve!"

"King Bashar should just give up the Crown" others muttered. "He is never going to beat the Vinolians, but he'd rather that we all starved to death than not be King anymore."

It did not take long before this sort of talk reached Bashar's over-sized ears. The King ordered any dissidents to be thrown in jail and then summoned his council for a meeting.

"The situation is becoming unbearable" the King ranted, as he paced agitatedly, observed by his councilors, who were all seated on cushions in a circle around him. "If we do not do anything about this siege soon, we are going to have a rebellion on our hands!"

This ominous statement, caused the listeners to turn and look concernedly at the person next to them.

"True, Your Majesty" said one of them, a boar with only one tusk. "But what can we do? Engaging the Vinolian army in direct combat would be tantamount to suicide."

"We had all figured that they would have gone home by now" a sand-cat, lounging on his cushion, chimed in. "That if we waited long enough, the climate would cause them to yield. He stretched and yawned. "Apparently, we've underestimated the tenacity of our foes."

A murmur of  frustrated agreement filled the room. Then, the King's Vizier requested the floor. It was granted to him and so, the gila stood up while Bashar sat down on one of the cushions.

"Your Majesty" the Vizier began, bowing to the King, then turning to the others. "Honored council, I believe I may have the solution to our problems."

Everyone, including the King, looked at the speaker, anticipation on their faces.

"If you do, then do not keep us in suspense" Bashar said, leaning forward. His voice was firm and yet, there was a sliver of a plea in it. "Tell us what your plan is."

Savoring the feeling of being the center of attention, the Vizier cleared his throat and began to speak.
Why, the Vizier asked his audience, was the other nations of the World content with sitting on the sidelines and watching this conflict between Guanaca and Vinoli, unfold?

"The Reason, I believe is this: During his time on the throne, His Majesty has proven himself a fair and capable ruler, well deserving of leading our country. I think we can all agree with that, can we
not?"

Here, the Vizier paused and fixed his eyes on each member of the council, all of whom nodded eagerly.

"Alas" the Vizier continued "many of Your Majesty's royal colleagues do not see it that way. In their eyes, you, my king, will always be a usurper. To them, its the person out there, the person who has entered into an alliance with a woman whose ambition is only equaled by her depravity. The Person who has brought a foreign army to our gates, who is the rightful ruler of Guanaca."

And to emphasize his words, he pointed in the general direction of the enemy.

"Get to the point, Vizier" Bashar interrupted, he was beginning to grow impatient.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty" The Gila said, bowing apologetically. "My point" he went on, "is this; the other Kings and Queens of the World may not look with disapproval upon the Vinolian army having entered our land, since Your Majesty's cousin is with them. At the same time, Faljan's presence is the only thing that, in their eyes, adds an air of legitimacy to the Vinolian's being here. As long as she has him, Argath can claim that her army is only there to restore the rightful King, nothing else."

"I see what you mean" the King said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, his eyes gleamed. "Without my cousin, international opinion would turn against Vinoli and they would be forced to withdraw, is that it?"

"Precisely, Your Majesty. After all, the other Kingdoms may not necessarily like you, but none of them would want Vinoli or any other kingdom to have control over Guanaca."

"So, how shall we to get rid of my cousin?" Bashar asked. "Any ideas?"

"His Majesty could challenge his cousin to single combat" proposed the boar. "Winner gets the crown."

"Do not be absurd" the Vizier said, shooting the speaker a dismissive look. "The Vinolian General is no fool, doubtlessly he's aware that His Majesty's prowess in the martial arts far exceeds that of his cousin."

"They could each pick a champion to fight for them" the boar argued, though his voice had lost its strength and his eyes were drawn towards the floor.

"And what if my champion should lose?" King Bashar said, shaking his head. "No, its too risky a gamble. Vizier, you said that you had a plan. What is it?"

Touching the red ruby on his turban, the gila-Vizier drew himself up to his full heigth (which was not very impressive) and began to explain his plan. As he did, he soon saw the smile he now wore reflected on the faces of everyone else in the room.

"Vizier" Bashar said, his face divided by a widening grin and his voice expressing sincere admiration.
"You are a genius."

The Others agreed and the Vizier closed his eyes, basking in the glow of his sovereign's praise, thinking of the honors that would be his when this was over.

Chapter 47

It seemed to Bashar that he had barely closed his eyes, before the sound of someone knocking in the door woke him up.  Before the King could tell whoever was knocking to enter, the door opened and his Vizier stepped inside.

"Your Majesty" the Gila said, bowing. "My apologies for disturbing your rest, but...."

"They are here, aren't they?" The Fennec said grimly, as he got out of bed. "The Vinolians."

Moments later, Bashar, now fully dressed and his Vizier, stood on Guanaca's ramparts. As he gazed down upon the massive army which encircled his city: An army whose ranks seemed to fill the desert, the King's eyes widened slightly and for a brief moment, fear touched his heart.

Then, he noticed two people standing at the head of the Vinolian army: One of them was a lynx, tall and powerfully built. He was unfamiliar to the King. The Person standing next to the lynx, however, was not.

"King Bashar" the lynx called out, his voice loud and strong. "My name is Jeraddin, General of the Vinolian army. I have a proposition for you."

"What proposition is that?" Bashar called back, though he could already guess what it would entail.

"Open your gates and surrender. Restore to your cousin the crown you usurped. In exchange I promise upon my solemn word that no harm shall befall you or any member of your household."

On the ground, Faljan turned and stared aghast at Jeraddin.

"General, this cur is a traitor!" The Younger fennec said, practically shaking with anger. "I want his head!"

"Your Highness" Jeraddin replied, lowering his voice. "Her Majesty has ordered me to take this city in whichever way I seem fit and if that goal can be accomplished without any unnecessary bloodshed, than that is how it shall be done."

Faljan was just about to retort that no blood that was spilled in the service of getting him what was rightfully his could possibly be unnecessary, but ultimately, decided to hold his tongue. There would be time to deal with the usurper later.

Bashar listened to this offer while gritting his teeth. Who did this lynx think he was? As if he would give up his throne, the throne he had rightfully earned by proving himself superior in cunning to his unworthy relation? Why, the mere thought was enough to make one's blood boil.

"Don't be so sure of your victory, General!" The King cried out,"Its true that you outnumber us, but look at these walls that tower up before your eyes! They have served as our shield for centuries and there has yet been an invading army that has managed to conquer them! I have listened to your proposal, General! Now, here is my answer..."

With that, Bashar raised his arm high into the sky, so that it seemed to eclipse the sun. Sensing what was happening, Jeraddin positioned himself in front of King Faljan and raised his shield.

"Quick!" He shouted to his men. "Take cover!"

The Vinolian soldiers quickly followed their General's command. In the next second, King Bashar's arm came down and in its wake, steel-tipped arrows fell like hail over the Vinolian army and those unfortunate soldiers who had been too slow in getting their shields up, sank to the ground; turned into pincushions.

Thus began the siege of Guanaca.

Fanny & Alexander

Greetings, Dear Reader and welcome to a new year for this blog. Not just a new year, but a new decade as well. Yes, we have left the 2010's behind and must now venture forth into the uncharted waters of the 2010's. Best of luck to both of us.
Anyway, I thought I'd begin the 2020's on a positive note. Namely, by doing a little post on one of my favorite movies. So, here we go:

I don't think I've ever mentioned this before, but I am an admirer of the filmography of Ingmar Bergman. Admittedly, I haven't seen everything he made (far from it), but what I have had the opportunity to see has been of a consistently high quality and that there is no doubt to me that Bergman deserves his reputation as a director.

That said, if I had to pick out what is, in my opinion, the man's Magnum Opus, my choice would fall upon the movie that is the subject of this post:

Fanny & Alexander.

Fanny & Alexander exists in two versions; one made for television and a (comparatively) shorter cut released in theaters. Bergman himself considered the TV-version to be the correct one and so, that is the one, I've decided to focus on.

The Film takes place in Sweden in the early years of the 20th Century and focuses on the Ekdahls; a large and wealthy family ruled over by the grand-mother, in general and two of the children in that family: Fanny and her brother Alexander, in particular. Following the death of their father, the children's mother remarries the local Bishop and the three of them move into his home; a place of strict rules and punishments.

The TV-version of Fanny and Alexander lasts for five hours and not once during that time does it feel as if the story is dragging its feet. One major reason for this is the characterization, which is quite simply top-notch. With a few exceptions, pretty much every character that are introduced to the
viewer is well-rounded and interesting.

Take, for example, uncle Karl. While his treatment of his wife and bitter resentment towards his brothers  and self-pity hardly makes him a sympathetic character, we also see him get along well with the children during the Christmas party and much later, it is he who goes to negotiate with the Bishop in order to save his late brother's remarried widow. In short, he's not a cardboard character but a human being with both good and bad aspects to his person and this goes for almost every character in the cast.

Then there's a villain of the story, who stands among the all-time great screen-villains. Bishop Edward Vergerus is, in many ways, the epitome of the wicked step-parent and yet, as horrible as he is, the Bishop never strays into the realm of cartoon villainy, but remains a chillingly believable figure throughout.

At the beginning of this post, I called Fanny & Alexander as one of my favorite movies (or films) and I've kept referring to it as such throughout. However, I would also call it one of my favorite series. While most commonly thought of as a movie, the TV-version was originally intended as a mini-series and can be watched as such. In fact, the DVD/Bluray box-set even refers to it as a "TV-series".

That said, at the end of the day,  no matter what label one chooses to apply to it, one thing remains true: Fanny & Alexander is a masterpiece; an enchanting tale of great richness, covering every human emotion. From hope and joy to fear and terror, aided in no small part by the cinematography of frequent Bergman collaborator Sven Nykvist. If you haven't seen it already, you definitely should and if you have? Watch it again, like most great works, its worth returning to every now and then.