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The Siege of Pest

A Dictator must be of sound morality and unquestionable character.

He must act with righteousness and justice on all occasions.

As promised, we let the wolves go mostly unharmed the next day. There had been one only one case of rape during the night, one of my soldiers taking advantage of a bound wolven sailor, and I personally demonstrated foxen justice by lashing him ten times. I had warned my soldiers that I would not stand for any harm done to them and I had to prove that I was serious.

A scout party trailed behind for most of the way to Pest, making sure they weren't ambushed by brigands or helped by Salvia. The scouts rode back on their horses, proudly reporting that the wolves had safely made it to Pest. No second sooner, I ordered the southern camp disbanded, ordered the scouts to ride hard to the northern camp and give them their orders: we were to march on Pest.

The city could be seen miles away on the Carpathian Plains and I was disappointed that my childhood memories betrayed me, even as we advanced closer. I didn't recognize the city on the East bank of the Danube, it was far smaller than I remembered, with the walled section of the city proper looking like a bundle of wooden homes mashed into a confined space, mixed with the rare landmark such as the colossal, ancient town hall that was built by the humans thousands of years ago. Outside the wall were a spattering of ranch-land, cottages, and the occasional farm for growing grain for ale and food for slaves and livestock.

But my concerns were not with the city itself, my concern was Buda Castle, across the river on a great bridge suspended by chains, through a walled bailey that was large enough to be a town unto itself, and up a short, but steep hill. The castle itself was weak, having been built by decadent humans back when we grovelled at their feet and served their every whim, it was designed for comfort, not defense, but we foxes had built the bailey, along with the outer fortifications that stretched wide enough to include an ancient human hill-fort on the southern hill, making it an imposing citadel that had only been successfully taken once, when the wolves had invaded. By the time they got here, we had already begun retreating, after word had reached us of Romulus's heavy cavalry delivering a crushing defeat to our grand host in Transylvania.

The wolves had not learned from our cowardice and were still dutifully overseeing their flocks and fields, many of which had fox serfs doing the toiling. They learned when they saw us atop our mounts armed to the teeth.

A panicked scream howled out, soon turning the field into a chorus of alarms. Armed patrols took notice, most of whom began fleeing to the city, but a few dug in, readying their axes and pole-arms. My horse tensed up and I rubbed at his black mane, whispering soft words into his ears. Once it had calmed down, I gave the order:

"Let the ranchers go but kill anyone with a weapon! Charge!"

Foxen war-cries pierced the air, drowning out the wolven howls, as our horses' hooves thundered on the dirt road. I took Livio's advice to heart with an addendum: every surviving mouth that made it past the wall was another mouth for the wolves to feed, but every sword that passed the gate was another weapon to use against us.

The patrols were no match for us. Even the potentially dangerous pole-arms were wielded by courageous, but shaky-armed patrols whose stance and formation would be laughed at by any novice member of any foxen city militia. Their thrusts were easily deflected away and their padded armor provided little protection against the slashing of sabers.

But of course, most of the armed wolves turned tail and ran, which was smart of them. I mean that without any sarcasm. They had a chance to live, not a great chance, as most of them stuck to the main road and soon learned that they couldn't outrun a horse at full gallop. A few smarter ones vaulted fences and cut across the countryside, not all of them made it but enough went in separate directions that we couldn't chase them all down.

Two really dumb wolves jumped a stone fence and cowered behind it. Perhaps they thought we would pass them without noticing or perhaps they thought it would shield them from arrows. What it didn't shield them from was Vito's gray stallion after it jumped the same fence. They must have thought they were the luckiest wolves alive when the horse didn't land on them, but they likely had a change of thought when the horse kicked back. The sound of their skulls cracking could be heard over both the howls and the yapping screams of the foxes.

We were good. Too good, perhaps. We were still a good half-mile from the walls when the wooden gates began to close, long before all but the first wave of refugees passed through. We must have really scared the shit out of them, they were going to leave their own to our mercy.

It was smart, of course. They wouldn't have to feed them and we'd either have to take care of them or "take care of them."

"Hold position!" I pulled on the reins and brought my horse to a halt, the rest of my foxes soon followed suit. It was too dangerous to get closer to the walls for fear of arrows.

We let the wolves and foxes who ran from us just seconds before, stagger back to us, panting and begging of mercy. They collapsed at the legs of our horses, a few almost ready to grovel and kiss our horses' hooves, as if they cared one bit about a chimera that wasn't feeding them hay.

Both foxes and wolves were press-ganged into working for us, but we made a big show out of chaining the wolven small landlords and putting them to work in degrading jobs like latrine-diggers or water-carriers. The tenant foxes were either allowed to return to their ranches to supply our army, or were given jobs to help set up the siege camp.

It wasn't long before our main force had the walls of the city surrounded. A second force, headed by Vito, was split off, ferried across the river, and blockaded back access to the castle.

Pest was soon to be ours.

Some of you reading this might consider me to be overly optimistic about our chances at a siege. The truth was, we were a small army that had just enough foxes to block access to the city and we had no catapults, trebuchets, or even a single siege engineer, thanks to Beaumont making it clear that we were not to attack the city.

Reality ensued in a few days. Several of my foxes got sick from tainted water which, after an investigation, was found to have been carried by a wolf captive from a particularly septic part of the river that smelled strongly of rancid shit. We broke him on the wheel and strung him up for all to see. The water problem ceased shortly after.

Guy was also causing a ruckus, publicly speaking out against the decision to siege the city, even in the presence of wolven workers. Because of his rank, I could only give him a strong verbal reprimand, which made me look weak.

Vito was having issues as well. Although his forces had effectively blockaded the southern gate of it, the hill-top citadel beyond the gate was launching arrows and ballista bolts at frightening distances and causing chaos in his camp.

Worst of all, I had sent out scouts deeper into the basin to look for enemies, and one group was now three days late returning. It was possible that bandits got lucky and slaughtered them, but chances are this was a sign that they were captured or killed by a wolven army, one that was not far away and would no doubt be heading our way, either encouraged by the tortured confessions of my captured scouts or from the silence from Pest.

Without siege equipment, a lack of soldiers, disease, and the impending threat of an army marching on us, the siege was likely to break within the week. We would have to rely on Tulo and his hidden tunnel if we wanted to take Pest.

Naturally, I wasn't stupid enough to trust Tulo and ordered Livio to take Tulo and a small detachment to the location to scout it out. I was waiting for him to return in my tent, sitting at my writing desk with Galip's grey head resting on my lap, broad nose pressed into my belly, his comforting rosewater scent wafting gently into my nostrils. Vito was pacing by the exit nervously.

"Vito, you're going to wear a hole in the floor if you don't sit still," I said, running my black claws through Galip's fur, eliciting a whine from my royal captive.

Vito let loose a single yip, his amber eyes shining in the lamplight, "That's rich, General! Normally I'm the one to have to calm you down!"

"There's a difference between righteous anger and useless anger, Lieutenant," I muttered. "There's no point in worrying now."

"Easier said than done! Things haven't been going right since we started the siege and if that dung-hauling wolf betrays us..." Vito paused, taking a deep, anxious breath, "...it's like we're cursed!"

"You're talking like a superstitious, old wolf right now," I leaned down, brushing my nose against the short hairs on top of Galip's head and taking in a deep breath, getting a good whiff of that strange, calming rosewater scent that Galip emitted when he was relaxed. "Vito, have a good sniff of him."

"No, General."

"It'll calm you down, I'm not kidding. It's like snorting opium," I took another deep breath and Galip's pink tongue gently lapped at my chin. I was beginning to enjoy my captive beyond my initial strategic reasons for keeping him around. I intended to break him in after I took the city and bring him back to Vulpezzia. I never knew that a calm, submissive wolf smelled so good, it was almost an opiate. Perhaps it was a sign that wolves were meant to serve foxes.

"I'm not going to smell that disgusting wolf!" Vito snapped, instantly bowing in apology. "My apologies, General."

"We need to get someone to warm your bed, Lieutenant," I said, giving Galip a slow lick and then returning to the papers on my desk. Vito was serious and devoted to his duty, but he, like any fox his age, had a libido and with Livio now having a woman and me having Galip, whom I had not had sex with yet but I could at any time, he was likely feeling a little left out.

Speaking of the devil, Livio suddenly burst into the tent along with the only person in the camp with less fur than the mangy fox, the human slave-girl he took from the raid on the ship, who was now dressed in modest, brown traveling robes. Vito sighed in relief at seeing his comrade return unharmed.

"The dung-hauler spoke true," Livio panted, his long tongue escaping his mouth, running down his bald chin. He smacked his lips and exhaled deeply, "the tunnels are massive and ancient. The humans built them well."

"Did they lead to the castle?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, Tulo did not know the exact directions..."

"Canis damn him!" Vito snarled. "We should teach that mongrel a lesson..."

Livio held up his paw, black pads standing out against the pale, peach skin around it, "He used humans from Carpathia to navigate the tunnels using maps there."

"Maps?"

"Yes, they were in some human language. It looked like nonsense to me," Livio's eyes darted towards his human, "and that's why I brought her along."

I sighed, "Livio, do you even know her name?"

"Well, I don't speak wolven..." Livio trailed off, clearing his throat, "that's why I wanted you to help, General."

"We found her on a supply ship from Lupercal, she probably isn't from around here. Canis knows those damned humans had about a thousand languages," I grumbled, pushing my chair back and padding over the to the human, "but it wouldn't hurt to try, I suppose."

The human woman was hunched over slightly, holding her head low. She was slightly taller than me and the other foxes in the room and was likely trying to show submission to her new owners. Her hair was as black as my stallion's mane and was tied in a tail running from the back of her head to the middle of her back.

"What is your name?" I asked in wolven.

"Sister."

"That's a strange name."

"The captain gave it to me. He seemed to think it was a good name for his..." she gritted her flat teeth together, "...it means sibling, a female sibling. He thought it meant something more sensually intimate."

"If you'd prefer to be called something else..."

"Sister will do," her face turned bright pink, "besides, I have Livio now and I love him."

I looked to Livio, noticing he was picking at a bright, red boil growing in a bald patch of skin on the side of his muzzle. Gagging, I turned back to the human, who was much easier on the eyes, at least compared to my mange-scarred underling. Was she ugly or pretty? I didn't know, all humans were the same to me: flat-faced and smelled like ripe cheese.

"Can you read the maps in the tunnels?" I asked, no longer wishing to focus on who was uglier.

"Enough, sir," she bowed politely, "the language there was an ancient script of the local Magyar, which I don't understand, but there are portions in English and I know the alphabet regardless of which is used."

"Let me rephrase that, can you direct us to the castle?"

"Yes. It looks like Batthyány exits along the northern wall of the bailey."

I repeated what Sister had told me to Livio.

"That matches what the dung-shoveler told me. It sounds like it will still be a hell of a march through the bailey to the castle."

This wasn't ideal. The castle had weak defenses, but it was still up a hill and you didn't need sophisticated fortifications to pepper invaders with arrows. Still, we needed to do it. I had been observing their defenses and they, so confident in the castle's defenses, had placed most of their patrols along Pest's walls. We'd need to split the invasion force into two: one to press the attack on the castle and the other to seize the gates leading to the bridge. If we cut the main forces off from the castle, we'll have free reign to have as much fun as we like with the corrupt ministers and the fat nobles. But if we failed to take the gate, they'd break us in seconds.

Mobility was limited as well. We wouldn't be able to bring our horses and we'd need to be in full armor for the invasion. There wasn't a chance in hell that we'd be able to effectively retreat through the storage room either, no matter how large it was.

But Canis favors the bold and the heroic. This was about more than me, every damned fox who lived through a fight like this would have a tale to tell their grandkits around the fire. They'd get more than a Republic pension, they'd get pride.

This was what I told myself when I was in doubt. Forget about those who die in agony, those who get maimed, or those who get captured, never to see home again.

Canis favors the bold.

Tulo and Sister spoke truthfully, not bad for a wolf and a slave. The wolf led us to a wooden outhouse that was disconcertingly close to the gray, stone walls of the city; close enough for a lucky arrow to reach us. We carried no torches and moved in small groups to avoid attracting attention to a large group of foxes climbing into an outhouse and not leaving.

Jumping into a cess-pit was not how I wanted to begin this grand battle, but war was not glamorous. I didn't ride into battle on a snow-white steed and challenge the enemy commander to a duel, I slogged through a swamp of shit and greased my blade with sewage, ordering my soldiers to do the same. If our blades struck true but did not kill our foe, we'd make damn sure that he'd be struck with an infection that would finish the job.

The sewage quickly trailed off as we left the latrine. The tunnels were tall and the ground was stone with two rusted, metal beams rushing deeper into the tunnel, side-by-side. They abruptly ended behind the hole we entered, running into a pile of twisted metal and glass.

What curious things those humans created long ago. I cared not to speculate on what they might do, for it was beyond my understanding and anyone else's in the world, especially modern humans; but it was still very interesting to observe.

"General, I propose that once we're finished here, we all head to the spa and take a long bath," Vito proposed, scrunching up his nose after smelling something particularly nasty.

"Approved!" I exclaimed, turning back and addressing the ranks of armed and armored foxes marching behind us. "As soon as we beat the shit out of the governor and take the castle, we'll celebrate at the baths with the finest vixens in town to wash us and welcome their liberators!"

The soldier's cheers echoed down the tunnels. I wasn't worried about anyone hearing at this point, if there was even a single patrol down here it would compromise the plan whether they heard us now or later. It would be a different matter if we were closer, but according to Sister, there was a second tunnel we'd have to switch to partway.

Canis, I have no idea how deep we plunged, but it was far too deep for any good fox. I could see why these things were overlooked by the defenders, despite the obvious breach it was in their fortifications. There were some mutterings among the soldiers, concerned that I'd be leading them straight into hell, but those were countered by other foxes who joyously proclaimed that they'd follow me there.

This is why you treat your soldiers well.

Sister lead us down a strange staircase with metal ridges on the top of it, following a faded, red sign with some human number written on it. Did the humans build these tunnels to hide from us? Were I in charge then, I'd be content to let the humans have the underground, so long as we had the surface. Clearly the tunnels didn't do the humans any favors, judging by the cob-web smothered skeletons we passed.

By the time the woman stopped, we were in front of an absurdly steep staircase, much like the previous one, leading upward at such an angle that it might as well have been vertical.

"Up here, General," Sister motioned towards the staircase, "this leads to the storage room, which had two exits, one to the right and one to the left."

I gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Good work," I said. Sister had been shockingly competent for a human slave. It was true, they could be useful as servants, but I didn't trust them nor care for the chimera obsession with good-looking humans. It was a weakness, some vestigial psychological hold on us from the days of our slavery, as far as I was concerned, and even if you viewed being intimate with them as a form of dominance, it was clear from the Human Alphate that they knew how to warp that to suit their ambitions.

Still, Sister was a good human and I wished her and Livio the best.

"Stay down here. If we don't return, go back through the tunnels and run back to the camp."

"Yes, General."

Livio, understanding the intention of my wolven words, seized his woman in a tight embrace, kissing her pink lips with his tongue. It was hideous and unprofessional, but none of us objected. Love was a rare thing, let along love between two who could not understand a word each other said.

We left her alone in the dank tunnels beneath us. I couldn't spare a guard and wouldn't even if I could, as good as she was, she was still just a slave owned by a common soldier, even if he didn't see it that way.

The climb was awkward and a few of us nearly fell over, which would have knocked the whole line of us down and would have been one for the history books: Marco led a daring assault on Buda Castle, was delivered a crushing defeat by a staircase.

Finally, we were ready, finding ourselves in a more natural environment, surrounded by thick, stone walls. Chests full of supplies were lying around, rope, nails, planks of wood, nothing that would make the battle easier. On the far end of the room was a splintered wooden door with wide gaps between the planks, giving us a small look into the next room that had rays of moonlight leaking in, revealing two small staircases leading to the surface.

We were facing south. Quietly, I ordered Vito to take his ranks to the left entrance on my order. It was his duty to take the gates as soon as possible, Vito was the only officer I had who understood battle mobility like I did and he would be vital to our success.

I drew my sword, having no wish to remain any longer in these cramped quarters with such a large group of foxes. I could smell every emotion ranging from rotten fear to spicy battle-lust and this was on top of the sewage that trailed on our fur and armor, not to mention the swords I ordered to be smeared with shit.

We were rancid, ugly foxes and we were going to storm the grandest palace in Carpathia.

"Form ranks and move out! Behind me!" I whispered to the fox behind me, a wide-eyed youth with orange fur who relayed it behind to the rest, he reeked of rotten eggs, fear afflicted in his body like the plague. They answered my order with a subtle unsheathing of their swords or tapping their claw on their helmets.

Drawing my own sword, I inspected my armor one last time. Instead of the mere half-plate I wore on raids, I now had steel gauntlets on that ran from my claws to just below my shoulder which had spaulders wrapped around it. Beneath all of these, were metal rings of chainmail that rested atop my padded gambeson. Atop my head was a helmet that forced my ears back so I could barely hear anything, with a long visor that I slapped down over my muzzle. It left my chin exposed but my face itself was protected except for a narrow slit running horizontal across the visor that I could barely see out of. I looked like a fat fox in a tin suit with all this protection, contrary to the stories of handsome knights, but it was necessary.

The door slid open with an aching creak that startled us, fearing that surely any moment now a wolven sentry would cry out an alarm. It didn't happen, so we stalked into the next room, my steel boots clanking against the stone floor.

Stealth soon became a pointless endeavor as we reached the bottom of the staircase. Two guards, wearing helmets much like mine that limited hearing, became aware of the foxes lurking beneath them and turned around, golden eyes flickering in the moonlight.

"Intrud...!" one of them attempted to shout, but was cut short by a crossbow bolt planting itself in his throat. His friend soon joined him after catching a bolt in the heart.

I peered back, finding that one of the sharpshooters was the youth with the orange fur, who smiled back toothily at me. I smiled back. Any fear that he felt earlier was clearly gone and I'd have to reward him for the nice shot later.

Cries echoed out beyond the tunnels. Someone had taken notice and the castle was now on alert. It was now or never.

"With me, lads! Advance!"

Geckering intensely, my soldiers swarmed the stairs. Heavy thunks rang out as arrows slammed into their shields. Once the first ranks were up, I ran forward, joining the horde of foxes.

The night air was sweet, save for the metallic scent of blood filling my nostrils from the wolf at my feet, who was choking up blood as he tried to pull the bolt out of his chest. He was a dead wolf, he just didn't know it yet. I let him be.

The bailey was a large and open field, so large and unusual for a castle that a pitched battle could have been fought inside it. The wolven patrols were scattered, unprepared for an attack within the walls and Vito's ranks were making short work of the few that impeded them.

On the ramparts, archers turned around, realizing that the enemy was within the walls, not outside.

"Pavise!"

My crossbowfoxes took off the thick, long boards they wore on their backs and slammed the metal ends into the dirt, taking cover behind them as they loaded their bolts and fired. One fox let me crouch behind his shield as arrows slammed into it.

This was not a good position to be in, but there was no damned point in doing our assault until Vito cleared his milestone or the weather cleared. Judging by the rapid pounding against the shield I crouched behind, the weather was especially bad or the wolves figured I was the General and as a result, the prime target. I soon found that it was the latter, when a massive spear pierced through the shield sending splinters everywhere, the crossbow-fox ducked just in time.

I was awestruck at the thick shaft on the spear, as was the crossbow-fox who stared at it with dumb eyes. Shuffling away, I crawled behind another, more stable shield and, squeezing between the two sharpshooters, I peered over the rim of the shield.

Standing atop the gate was a massive brown wolf about as large as a bear. He was too far away to make a crack-shot like that with a longbow, let along a spear, but I quickly learned it was him when he single-handedly pulled a spear that looked like a log from this distance and chucked it.

I rolled out of the way just as it smashed the pavise into splinters, which reflected off of my armor harmlessly, I was more injured by the weight of my armor crashing against the ground. The crossbow-fox was not as lucky as the previous and his chest was soon nothing but a mess of shattered ribs and bloody metal.

"Whoever brings me that wolf's head will never go hungry again!" I ordered, pointing at the hulking wolf as he grabbed another spear. "And if you bring him back alive, I swear on Canis's eye that I'll go down on you!"

"Yes sir!" my soldiers cried out between fits of laughter. I was half-serious, a freak like that wolf would be one hell of a bodyguard if I could secure his loyalty and if not, he could be a fantastic exhibit at my Triumph and a circus would no doubt pay his weight in silver.

Another pavise exploded into small bits as I rushed to the right. I knew not what fate befell this crossbowman, for I was still in awe at the fantastic strength on display. If only one could breed wolves like him, it'd be a game-changer in strategy, something that could shatter shield formations without a blink of an eye. I lived to see such things.

There would not be another such display. The massive form of the wolf came crashing down, swarmed by much smaller foxes scrambled onto the ramparts. I hoped he lived, but there was no time to think about such fancies. With the wolves on the ramparts distracted by Vito's assault, it was now time for us to de-trench ourselves and storm the palace.

It was just in time as well, for a wave of wolves were now bearing down on us from the winding hill leading up to the palace, commanded by a wolf with his nose pointed up in the air proudly atop an equally proud, skinny riding horse, in contrast to his underlings who were dressed in chain-mail with red tabards atop them, and most important, were on foot.

There was no way that horse was battle-trained. Sure enough, one barrage of geckering from my troops was enough to spook it, rearing up on its hind-legs kicking and then screaming down the hill, catching its hooves on a loose stone and launching itself on its side, knocking at least five wolves to the ground, including its rider. Taking advantage of the confusion, I called for a charge.

Our blades sliced through wolf after wolf. Their mail was strong, but their training was shoddy and we easily found their weak-points, an arm-pit here or there, a visor with no under-guard, or a neck left vulnerable by a coif that was just too short. They advertised their unguarded body parts so obviously that it was almost pathetic and our blades were slicked red with blood before we even were half-way up the hill.

One guard took my notice, a snarling, slobbering beast who swung his mace like a colossus of combat and could have easily smashed even my armor into a crumbled heap of scrap metal. Fierce though he was, he was a simple creature who didn't know how to use his head in combat while my foxes had. Two of my soldiers sparred with him, teasing him with their blades and drawing him away from the main force while they were pro-occupied with us. Finally, the wolf made his last mistake: charging at one of the foxes with his mace raised high, high enough that he exposed the tender spot between his arm and his chest, which was soon kissed by the other foxes' blade. He collapsed instantly, rolling down the steep hill limply.

The rest of the sally was not even worth mentioning, mere dolls to be tossed aside. By Canis, I was doing it! I was mere inches away from bursting through the doors of Buda Castle.

Proudly sitting atop a bronze horse in front of the doors was a statue that looked awkward, even under torchlight. The flat facial features around the eyes gave the impression that it was originally of a human, but it had a newer, not nearly as green-aged, muzzle welded to the lower face. It was not clear whether it was a wolf or a fox and it lacked a tail.

I was able to focus on such a trivial thing because the defenses at the doors themselves were that pitiful. There were countless windows between tall, white pillars that could have been hiding archers, but either they had no archers inside or they were given orders not to smash the Governor's precious windows. Some wolves were barricading the door on the inside, of course, but otherwise we were able to take a quick breather.

Then we did what they feared to do, split up into teams and approach the ground-level windows. On the other side of mine, a small, gray, dim-witted wolf stared at me with terrified golden eyes and shakily waved his paw at me.

I punched the window with my gauntlet until there were no shards left and leaped inside, my foxes following me.

It turned out the wolves barricading the door were just a bunch of soft officials in silk robes leaning against it, who broke their defenses immediately at sighting a bunch of smelly foxes in bloody armor, and pressed their noses to the red-carpeted floor, begging for mercy.

I flung my visor up, I wanted them to see my face, let them know who the fox that humbled them was, and I ordered my soldiers to secure them, lining them up against the walls under priceless pieces of ancient human paintings.

And there, atop a grand staircase and resting on a throne at the end of the same red carpet his ministers groveled atop, was Governor Ertrul. His chin was resting on the cup of his paw and his eyelids were as heavy as his aged jowls which drooped far below his chin. His concubine, a young human boy with short brown hair, was more aware of the danger he was in and was appropriately wide-eyed with fear as he saw me approach his master.

Ertrul sighed, tossing his thin Governor's baton on the carpet in front of my feet. He closed his tired eyelids and muttered.

"Pesht is yours."

His human wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pressing his face into his chest and sobbing uncontrollably. Ertrul did not react, broken by the weight of responsibility over the decades.

I picked up the rod and smiled.

With the castle taken, the town itself would be mere kits-play.

Of course, that was not entirely true, but perched on the edge of the castle balcony overlooking the bright city below and across the river, it was hard not to think so.

Naturally, the city was lit up due to soldier's torches and there would be a whole night's worth of security duty to mop up remaining resistance. I received the occasional report detailing the process, but it was all fairly standard: the wolves were terrified at being stuck between our castle and the siege, and were either surrendering without a fight or fighting like a mad animal backed into a corner. The city foxes on the other hand, were volunteering in large numbers to help enforce the peace. It would be a bloody night, but there would be far fewer wolves to deal with in the morning and more loyal foxes.

I drained the wooden goblet of ale resting in my paw and tossed it down the hill into the darkness below. What a wonderful night and it would only get more wonderful in mere moments.

Galip was kneeling on the ground before me, completely unclothed, as he was finding himself more and more frequently lately. He had dared speak without being prompted earlier, when he meekly asked about his parents. Instead of striking him, I reassured him that they had escaped the city. It was a lie at the time, but I later found out it was the truth, and regardless, it set him at ease.

A warm feeling grew between my legs.

Padding over to my slave, I leaned down, cupping his gray chin in my palm and tilting his head up, his golden eyes staring at me uncertainly. Once again, the scent of rose-water filled my nostrils as I rubbed my black pads over the side of his muzzle and his tail wagged slowly.

"It's a wonderful view, slave. Have a look."

He crawled over like a feral dog with his bushy tail between his legs to the gray stone balcony railing. Lifting himself up and leaning against the rail, he peered over the side. His tail began to wag rapidly, revealing the pink outline of his anus for all to see.

I nodded to the guards, who gave me a knowing smirk before turning their backs to us. Creeping up behind my slave, I undid my trousers, letting them fall to the ground. Galip's ears flicked back, but it was too late.

I grabbed him by the shoulders, pressing my nose into his course back fur and lashing my tongue along it, tasting the strange rose-like scent he was releasing in full strength. I licked all the way up to the back of his neck, nipping at it gently before meeting his broad nose which was peering back at me, licking and biting at his chin affectionately.

"Alpha..." he whispered, shifting against my weight slightly.

"Shh..." I wrapped my fingers around his muzzle, silencing him, "let me enjoy my victory."

This was what I wanted: to show the wolves that a low-born fox could dominate a high-born wolf. I proved it when I led a military dominated by common foxes, often on foot, against a wolven army with noble cavalry as its crowning force. I proved it when I took the jewel of Romulus's, human though he was, expansion. And I was going to prove it right now.

The tip of my tapered cock slid in almost effortlessly, as if the wolf was welcoming it. Still, good pup that he was, he gasped in uncontrolled ecstasy as I did it. My balls slapped against his legs as I got the last pink inch of my shaft inside him.

Galip whimpered pitifully, realizing that the last traces of his dignity was being taken from him. He had no doubt heard whispers around the camp, about the things my soldiers believed I was doing to him, but back then he could honestly brush those off as lie and still know that he was never violated by a fox and could keep his pride.

He could do that no longer.

And yet, that comforting floral scent of his was still wafting from his glands. He loved this, despite his hesitations. He loved the idea of being dominated by a 'lesser race' like a fox. Even as a bastard of a cadet branch of the royal family, he enjoyed such privilege, probably rode through the streets of Pest on his horse looking down on the foxes who used to run the place, but secretly, in the back of his mind, he was aroused at the thought of them rising up and showing him who was boss.

Clenching my teeth against the scruff of his neck, I thrust my cock in and out, growling deeply to show my dominance. Galip panted uncontrollably as he received my powerful assault, his tail wagging happily against my chest.

"Alpha! Please, fuck me harder!"

He asked politely, so I picked up the pace. Releasing my grip on his neck, I leaned forward, pressing the tip of my muzzle against his ear, which flicked back upon feeling my breath brush against it.

"One day, all wolves will be just like you, you know that?" I whispered, my tongue lapping at the fur under his ear. "You'll be begging us to rule you."

"Yes! Yes!"

Grinning wildly as my knot began to swell, I thrust once more inside him, just in time to get it stuck past his anus, locking us together.

"Maybe when I march us into Lupercal, I'll put you on the throne. Would you like that?"

"If my Alpha wishes it!"

"But I'll be right behind you," I chuckled, nuzzling against his jowls. "I'll fuck you in front of the former Alpha and all his ministers. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yesssss! Ah, Alpha...!"

My cock twitched, spurting deep inside the wolf's rear and filling him up, my knot making sure not a drop escaped. I panted with exhaustion and whispered one last thing:

"I'll do all of this. Just you wait."

We collapsed on the ground by the balcony, my knot still stuck inside him. I wrapped my arms around the naked wolf and held him tight, rubbing my scent all over him and eventually falling asleep cuddling with him.