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The Eye of the Storm

A Dictator must be clear-sighted in all regards.

One eye must be pointed towards domestic affairs and the other towards external foes.

Sofia was anxious all evening, following her disastrous attempt at divining my future. Never had I seen her this bad, even when she first began her hobby with the zeal of a fanatic. Her right ear twitched non-stop and she chewed and licked at her lips until a droplet of trickled from her ebony lips and down her cream chin. Fear reeked through the house, overpowering the scent of her herbs with the rank stench of rotten eggs.

It got so bad that she refused to let me sleep, claws digging into my arm as she tried to pull me out of the bedroom, crying and begging me not to leave her. I had to order Goliath to drag her to her room and prevent her from leaving in order to get a wink of sleep.

But when I was alone, I found myself anxious as well. Perhaps it was mere excitement or Sofia's scent was effecting my brain, but I couldn't sleep as well. I eventually fetched Galip from downstairs and gave him a good plowing from behind. We laid down on our sides, my knot still in his rear, as I hugged him from behind. My nose prodded the side of his neck and I snuffled, taking in that calming rose-water scent he loved to excrete when I showed him who was in charge, and finally, I nodded off.

I awoke early to the clamor of pots and pans, the same as yesterday. It was nostalgic, far more relaxing than waking up to the scraping of grindstones and the barking of commands. I also found that Galip was missing.

Despite my irritation that he had left without my consent, I got up and began dressing myself, dressing myself in a burgundy gambeson that didn't have so much as a single tear or patch in it, unlike my normal one I used for martial affairs. I wrapped a black cloak across my neck, put on equally burgundy hose and slipped into my boots before stomping downstairs, ready to give Galip a lashing, verbally or otherwise.

Before I could storm into the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of fiery red fur in the dining room. Sofia was sitting on a chair, wearing nothing but her pelt and staring out the latticed window.

"Canis be damned!" I cursed, ripping off my cloak and blanketing her in it. If she noticed, she didn't give any indication. "What the hell is wrong with you!? What if someone saw!?"

The streets were still dim with the last minutes of moonlight, right before the sun was to make its appearance and take center stage. No one was out there.

"What does it matter?" she muttered, eyes fixated on the vacant streets. "You're going to go to the Senate and then..."

"Then what? I'll be killed? Did your herbs tell you that?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, "I don't know, but I can feel-"

"Don't feel, think," I whispered, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'll be home by the evening. Or, who knows? Perhaps we'll be moving into a new house tonight?"

"What do you expect from them, Marco?" Sofia finally turned her head to me, her amber eyes flushed with worry. "They haven't declared you a Hero of the Republic. You can't be made Dictator!"

"Janus Oldpaw was declared Hero of the Republic and then seconds later, Dictator."

"And then a month later, he was captured by the wolves in battle and spent the last ten years of his life in a cage in the Alpha's palace!" Sofia whined. "Brother, this all reeks with bad omens! You must..." she trailed off, biting her lip.

"What? Run away? What do you want me to do, sister?"

A plate clattered on the table behind me and I turned with a start, finding Galip with his ears folded back and his tail tucked between his legs, paw hovering over a plate of seared ham steaks that he had just served. His pupils were as tiny as grains of sand and he looked like he was anticipating a slap across the face.

"A-alpha, I'm sorry! I-I made..."

I struck him across the side of his muzzle. He yelped with pain as he spun to the ground. He didn't dare stand back up and rubbed at his face.

"What the hell were you thinking!? First you got up from bed without my permission and then you let my sister sit here as naked as the day she was born!?"

"A-A-Alpha, she..." he lowered his head to the ground.

I snatched the end of his collar's chain and yanked it forward, forcing his head upward, forcing his golden eyes to stare up at his master's face.

"Shut up! So help me, wolf, if you weren't related to the Alpha, I'd have sold you to the cheapest brothel I could find! I might still do that! Maybe then you'd learn to fucking behave properly!"

"Marco!" Sofia shrieked, throwing herself off the chair and storming towards us, claws clutching my cloak tight around her skinny frame. Her fangs were bared in a snarl. "I ordered him to make breakfast and to leave me be! If you want to strike someone, strike me, if you dare!"

I flung Galip's chain away, causing it to rattle as it banged against the wood floor. Sofia was livid with rage but she was being honest, I could tell.

"He understood you?" I whispered, panting a few times as my anger began to subside.

"He tried to wrap me up in a blanket, but I shoved him away."

"I see," I looked to Galip. The gray wolf was on his belly, palms atop his ears to guard from any blows he might receive. I looked back to my sister, whose snarl was beginning to soften, "I'm sorry, Sofia. That was uncalled for."

"Apologize to your slave."

"No."

"Do it!"

Sighing, I knelt down beside Galip and patted him atop the head, gently pulling away his paws. He flinched when he saw my face, but I cupped his chin in my palms and made him look at me.

I spoke in Wolven, soft enough to give the impression that I was being sincere to someone ignorant of the Wolven language, such as my sister, "Listen here. You're going to smile right now," Galip complied, the corner of his lips raising in a forced, nervous grin. "Good. Now, when I finish talking you're to lick me once on the chin. No more, no less. I'm going to stop talking right now, okay?"

His thick, pink tongue slapped me on the chin quickly and he pulled back, mouth hanging open in a happy grin. His bushy tail wagged happily back and forth.

"There, Sofia," I groaned, standing up. Galip continued to put on his act long after I stopped paying attention to him, "are you happy now?"

She shook her head, flopping back down in the chair. Shivering, she fidgeted under my cloak, "You don't want to be late."

Sighing, I turned away. There was no reasoning with her now, it was hopeless.

I snatched up one of the ham steaks and ripped out a large chunk of it, chewing it quickly and swallowing. It was overcooked and under-seasoned, but I cared little about flavor when my sister was so upset. I repeated this until it was gone and left my sister and Galip, still wagging his tail on the ground; behind.

Goliath was lurking outside the entrance. The hulking fox was leaning against the white plaster walls of my house with snout scrunched up and his teeth bared. I looked around for danger before I saw that he was just picking at some food caught between his teeth with his claw.

Peering over at me, he nodded, wiping his claw against the side of his brown shirt.

"Ready, General?"

"Yes."

It was eerily quiet, even for the time of day. The sky grew a dull orange as the sun began to rise in the west, casting heavy shadows over the cobblestone streets of Vulpezzia.

I began to feel a little nervous. I never thought I'd think it, but I would have killed to run across a shit-hauler or a street cleaner, just so that I wouldn't feel like we were wandering some ancient ruin of a city.

It wasn't until we reached the forum that we encountered any signs of life. The first peddlers of the day were hanging up cloth atop their stalls and putting their wares on display. A line of fennecs with their collars tied to a drag chain, marched down the bridge into the square, urged on by the fat and brown fox slaver who twiddled and twisted his cane idly, ready to strike if needed.

There was a ring of roads around the canals surrounding the island that we could have taken to the Senate instead, skipping the square entirely, but I wanted people to see us. I wanted to imagine them tell their families about how they caught a glimpse of the new Dictator and his bodyguard. For now though, they were content with tending to their own businesses and paid us no heed.

The Senate was made of old, brown stone with a tall door with icons of Canis and Felis looming atop a mass of worshiping Anthros and the two ringed door handles. Far above the door was a round window just below the short, steepled roof of the main hall that stretched back to a wider chamber where the Senate met, that had several tall domes that looked to be made of some metal, but it never rusted despite the age of it. It was said the humans built it during the height of their reign, but now it was ours.

Standing on guard were the Senatorial Guard. They wore shining steel breastplates with a badge atop their heart that depicted Reynard leaning lazily against a halberd. Despite the casual appearance of Reynard and the silliness of their yellow, puffed pants, they were strictly disciplined and were ready to use their own halberds if needed. I've seen them use it on a lunatic that tried to force his way into the Senate, it didn't take long for them to turn him into a stain on the road.

Thankfully, I was not a lunatic and they allowed me in. Goliath, however, was not as lucky.

"No bodyguards," the guard on the right of the entrance proclaimed, slamming the butt of his spear shaft onto the ground. He saluted, gripping the short brim of his round, blue cap, "I'm sorry, General. Rules of the Senate."

I growled, turning back to Goliath, "I'm sorry, Goliath, but you'll have to wait out here."

"It's fine, General," he muttered, scratching his back, "it's fun to watch people in the forum."

"You'll get bored sooner or later," I sighed, pulling out a pouch and taking a silver coin from it, placing it in Goliath's paw. "If I'm not out by the afternoon, go back home. Pick up a bouquet on the way home for Sofia and make sure none of the flowers have bad meanings behind them."

"Which ones do?"

"Damned if I know. Just do your best, okay? That's an order!"

Goliath shrugged and stepped away from the Senate, taking a seat on a stone bench nearby. I grabbed the bronze ring on the door and pulled, the door creaking violently as it slowly swung open.

Inside was an immaculate chamber with square, plaster columns reaching up towards the ceiling. Figures of famous foxes were carved near the top of the columns, with the occasional human mixed in there, either they were "Virtuous Humans," or they simply have not been re-carved to match the new occupants' forms. The floor was made of polished marble, with black and brown coloring creating a cubic geometric design.

The chamber ended abruptly at the end where a wide doorway led into the Senate chamber. The benches lined against the walls were empty, as was the speaker's altar at the far end, underneath a domed ceiling.

But before I could even get into the Senate chamber, a secretary blocked my path. A short fox with graying orange fur and a thick pair of spectacles balancing on the tip of his snout.

"General Marco, you're wanted in the reading room immediately," he pointed towards a simple, wooden door on the right side of the chamber.

I went through the door, climbing a staircase made of old, rough wood that gave a terrible impression to would-be dignitaries who often met the Doge or Senators in the room it led to. I vowed to conduct a renovation of it as soon as I came into power.

At the top of the staircase was another dull, brown door. Behind it, I heard someone shuffling around slowly. I inhaled and pushed the door open proudly.

I frowned as soon as I entered, barely suppressing a growl.

Leaning over a red, brick fireplace and poking at the flaming logs with a metal poker was a far too familiar fox. A long, black coat trailed down Admiral Philippe's back and across his tail; strapped to his hip was a golden scabbard covered in precious gemstones of various colors that housed an ornate hilt with a snarling wolf head on the pommel.

"General Marco," he muttered snidely, dropping the poker in the flames. He turned around, a golden ball hanging from a piercing in his left ear swung as quickly as he swished his tail. He smiled with a sickeningly smug grin that exposed just enough of his twinkling, golden fang on the left side of his mouth, "you spurned my offer. My ship was waiting for you."

"I preferred to ride. I don't trust ships."

"So you've said many, many times!" he exclaimed, sauntering across the room with his left paw resting on the pommel of his sword. His dull orange tail flicked out from the tail of his coat. "The sea is honest, my dear General. Once you understand her, you don't have to fear her moods."

"I'd rather not have to learn how to deal with her moods and just spurn her entirely."

"But really, is it so different from learning to ride a horse?" he grabbed a thick book from the mahogany bookcase, flipping through the pages idly. "A horse can just decide at any moment to kick you off, can it not? It's all about learning how to deal with their moods. They're not so different, are they now?"

"If a horse does not learn, it becomes dinner. You can't eat the sea."

Philippe laughed, a shrill guffaw that was completely at odds with his reputation as a dread pirate. He pressed his snout into the dusty pages of the book and sniffed.

"I love the smell of books, don't you?"

"I prefer to read them, not smell them."

"You got me! I never did find the time to learn how to read!" he announced, tossing the book into the fireplace. Flakes of embers floated in the air as the ancient pages were engulfed in flames instantly. He peered over his shoulder at me and motioned towards a chair sitting in front of a small, pine desk. "Don't just stand there, General, sit down! Please!"

Grumbling lightly, which caused the Admiral to flick his ear and giggle slightly, I slowly stepped in, keeping my eyes on him the whole time, and sat down on the chair. Philippe grabbed a seat from the other side of the library and dragged it over, the legs screeching against the floor, leaving behind two visible scratches in the varnished wood. He thumped it on the opposite end of the desk and sat down, crossing his legs.

"A drink, General?" he offered, reaching into the desk without waiting for an answer and pulled out a wooden cup along with a glass bottle. He uncorked the bottle and poured a foamy, brown ale into the cup and slid it over to me. It smelled foul, as if it had gone bad long ago.

"No thanks. You go ahead."

"I don't drink, General," he said, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head, "just like I don't wear a tall hat, have a hook for a paw, or whatever little deranged fantasy you have about me and my navy."

"Don't forget all the rape and sodomy."

Philippe's little black nose twitched as he smelled the air, "You don't have a whole lot of room to cast judgment. I smell a wolf on you and not a wolfess. That Pesht-Kutlar, yes?"

"That's different."

He held his paws up, fingers spread out, "I'm happy for you, truly! But of course, we'll have to ransom him back to the wolves during diplomacy soon as a token of goodwill."

My hackles raised, I couldn't help myself. The air in the room grew still and I felt a quiet anger grow in my belly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The war is coming to a close! Negotiations have already begun! Isn't that grand?"

"Bullshit!" I yelled, slamming my fist on the desk.

"Calm down. Drink.

"Where's the Doge, I want to talk to him."

"The Doge's not here right now, I am."

My heart faltered. Philippe's eyes were now staring at me from across his narrow muzzle with a serious look.

"You're not..."

"Marco, after your little Triumph tantrum, what did you expect? What did you really expect?" Philippe sighed, tapping a claw against the rim of the cup he gave me. "We held an emergency session that night after word got out and the Senate voted me Dictator. It's done."

It all made sense. How he was brazenly carrying a weapon in the Senate and why he had no qualms about destroying property. He was the highest authority in the Republic now and he knew it. And those damned Senators I met yesterday, they knew! They lied to me as I gave them promise after promise! I saw no reason to hide my disgust now.

I pulled back my lips in a snarl. Geckering fiercely, I leaned forward on the desk with my fangs bared. He responded with a high-pitched yip and the door flung open as two Senatorial Guards marched in with sabers drawn. They took their places behind my chair.

"Don't be upset, dear Marco. The result was inevitable even if you had behaved like a good little kit."

"Who voted for you!? Tell me!"

"Why should I?" Philippe laughed and lifted up the cup, tapping the butt of it against the table. "Drink your beer."

"To hell with your beer!" I slapped the cup to the side, spilling the drink across the floor. A noxious odor wafted from the fluid into the air and I almost gagged.

"But your tantrum did help and I will reward you for that in a moment. It was so easy to portray you as a mad warmonger who would sacrifice every young fox if it meant you could have a chance at pissing on the Alpha's throne. Then, along comes a reasonable-sounding Admiral who just saved the city from a daring wolven raid, and he starts talking about negotiating a peace. One half of the Carpathian Danube for us, including Pest itself, and the other to the wolves. A mild gain for a mild war that was stopped before it became a meat grinder. Lovely, isn't it?"

"We once ruled from Iberia to Constantine! Our brothers and sisters still live there under the wolven boot and suffer every day! I've seen what those animals have done to us and if you had, you'd agree with me that we can't stop until we liberate every damned Republic and then, when the wolves are still reeling, we push forward and shove those savages back into the steppes from whence they came!"

I was angry, but part of me was laughing as well. I wasn't about to give Philippe advice, but there was a huge flaw with his proposed negotiation. If he thought the wolves would just share Carpathia, he was dead wrong. The river was a good, natural border, but it wouldn't be hard for the wolves to sail up from Beograd, raid the foxen side, and sail back south before anyone got wise to it. Not to mention the fox refugees who would rush for Pest, abandoning their wolven landlords, who would then petition the Alphate to enforce their property rights. It wouldn't be sharing, it would be two kits endlessly pulling and fighting over a toy.

But no, I wanted the little prick to fail, so I kept my lips sealed tight. He'd learn the hard way and I'd have to clean up after him, just like I had to clean up after Beaumont all the time. My time would still come, I told myself this and felt a bit calmer.

"Marco, you were never qualified to become Dictator. You know the rules."

"I've memorized the damned thing!"

"A Dictator must be clear-sighted in all regards.

One eye must be pointed towards domestic affairs and the other towards external foes."

My head began to spin. That damned beer smelled like skunk musk and it was giving me a headache.

"What the hell kind of beer was that?"

"Opium," Philippe muttered, motioning towards one of the guards behind me, who walked over to the fireplace, "I told you, Marco, I'd reward you. But first you have to recognize that you're permanently disqualified from being Dictator."

"I'm clear-sighted. What the hell are you talking about?"

"One eye must be pointed towards domestic affairs," he pointed a claw at my left eye before moving to the right, "and the other towards external foes."

There was a rattle to my right as the guard pulled the poker from the fireplace, its tip glowing red hot. My eyes widened with shock.

"Canis! You're mad!"

Philippe stood up, looming over me as the other guard planted his gloved paw on my shoulder forcefully. The Dictator casually sauntered over to my right, stepping in the puddle of opium beer with his black boots.

"But I told you that I'd reward you. There might be enough to dull the pain if you lick the soles of my boots. I'll let you, if you ask nicely."

"Fuck you!" I tried to break free of the guard's grip, but he held me down and wrapped his other arm around my throat, locking my head into place. His companion stepped forward slowly, a smile growing on his lips as he brought the hot poker closer. It was soon inches away from my right eye and I could feel the intense heat singe the fur around my brow.

"You really should have drank your beer, General."

The poker thrust forward and the world went white.

The room was so dark that I didn't even realize that I had been awake for quite some time. All I could see was a row of wood planks slapped together, nearly black in the dim candlelight of the room. A low, groaning creak echoed throughout constantly, making me think I was trapped in some sort of a mill, but then my nose scrunched up after I smelled something foul, like tar or pitch.

It was only then that I realized there was a patch of black in the right corner of my vision and I felt a light weight upon it, cloth that itched and chafed. I raised my paw groggily towards my face.

"Canis, damn you!" a sharp voice growled as a thin paw snatched my wrist and pinned it to the bench I was prone upon. "You want to catch the rot!?"

I opened my mouth, a glob of drool spilling out into a puddle. My tongue was limp and I could barely utter a grunt. "Huh?"

"Oh no!" the voice hissed, stepping around to my side. A fox, completely brown including the lower part of his muzzle, came into view. Perhaps he was wearing brown clothes that confused me, my memory is a bit hazy of this incident. "I'm not going to explain again! Fool me once...fool me twice...fool me thrice..."

The fox trailed off, unscrewing the cap of some flask and pouring it into a tiny spoon.

"Okay, say ah..."

His stinking paw grabbed the underside of my jowls and lifted the top of my jaw. He carefully moved the spoon closer to my open maw, the liquid in the bowl of it wiggling precariously, a few droplets spilling off into the void.

"Nnnngh!" I groaned, swiping my arm around wildly and dashing the spoon onto the floor.

The brown fox cursed furiously and called for help. Before I knew it, at least two people were holding me down while the brown fox refilled the spoon. Two fingers plugged up my nose, forcing me to breath through my mouth and that was all the brown fox needed, forcing the spoon past my teeth.

The liquid was foul and reeked of bitter medicine. I gagged and was about to spew it back up, when a paw wrapped around my muzzle, holding it shut while another rubbed at my throat. I swallowed and it was gone.

And then, once again, so was I.

The sun blinded me as I woke up. Hissing, I covered up my eyes, blocking out the infernal light. Seagulls screeched off in the distance and salt filled my nostrils while I tried to stifle the headache trying to burst out of my skull.

Seagulls...salt...

I flashed my eyes open, pain be damned! I opened them to find a world of blue: blue skies, blue water. Were it not for the sun and the black spot in the right of my vision where the bandages were, all I would see was a universe of endless azure.

But it was not truly all blue. When I looked down, I found myself resting in a wooden chair with arms atop a balcony made of splintered, rotting wood. A thin, round railing made of similarly old wood was all that stopped me from falling into the cerulean abyss. I got to my feet, shakily leaning over the railing until I saw an outcropping of gray rocks two stories below. Off to the left, just out of view, was a tiny field of dried grass and sand, stretching beyond the tower.

Claws wrapped around my scruff and pulled me back, spinning me around. The world began to spin again, much like it had been in that terrible, dark room, until I found a massive chest clad in lamellar leather plates.

"Move," the voice was deep and gravelly, far too deep to be a fox's. I peered up for a second to see a lion with tan fur and pale yellow eyes staring down at me. He wrapped his massive paw around my shoulder and pulled me away from the balcony, into a small room.

The room reeked of lion, sandy and musky. There was not much here, except for a tiny desk with a round stool and a wooden pallet covered in old, soiled straw that I was meant to sleep on. Sitting atop the bed was bored fox with blood-red fur and a massive, scar that wrapped around his face from the top of his forehead, down the bridge of his muzzle, ending as it reached the tip of his upper lip which gave him a second cleft.

"Set him down in the chair," the fox ordered and the lion complied, nearly lifting me up in his arms like I was his vixen, before plopping my rear down on the stool by the desk.

"Where am I?" I muttered, still groggy.

"Hiboun Island," the fox grumbled a reply, "you've been reassigned."

"What?"

"Piracy watch," the fox's voice had an edge to it. "Read the letter."

"What lett...?"

The lion's thick paw slammed down on the desk, waking me out of my stupor instantly. An envelope, with its red wax seal already sliced open, was there with a letter sticking out. I was awake enough now to feel anxious once more and I realized that I had no idea how I got there.

And I knew the letter contained nothing but ill tidings before I took it out.

General Marco,

I hope my letter finds you well and your new post is to your liking!

You must understand that we couldn't simply have you hanging around the capital. We couldn't also let you go back to Carpathia, oh no! Not while peace is within our grasp! Rest assured, General Vito was more than eager to take over. A good fox, that one is.

I crumpled up the letter and gritted my teeth. It wasn't true, Vito would never have done that.

Both the lion and the fox wrestled the letter away from me and unfurled it, forcing me to read it before I destroyed it.

And do not worry about your sister, dear Sophia. In lieu of your salary, I will be providing her room and board in my residence.

You'll be in charge of observing ship traffic around the coast of Tunis. You'll write daily reports which will be compiled into a monthly report that will be delivered directly to me. A ship will arrive to pick it up.

If I don't receive that report every month, whether you failed to complete it or, dare I suggest, you abandoned your post, there will be consequences. Dear, sweet Sophia is a nice vixen, very beautiful, and I would hate for anything bad to happen to her. I have not decided what that might be, but rest assured, you would hate it and you would never find her.

I've left a detachment of ten guards to keep you company. I'm afraid they might not be the most sociable of company, but they will keep you safe.

Best wishes,

Dictator Philippe

P.S: Ask Two-Lips for the mirror.

I clutched my skull, claws digging into my skin. I was so damned foolish! Everything I had fought for, bled for, all gone! All because of that damned pirate and those snake-tongued Senators! I would have thrown myself off the deck at that moment if it weren't for the threat of what might happen to Sophia, which plagued my mind with nightmarish torture and visions.

Sobbing, I covered up my eyes to save face, but soon felt something amiss that made me grow still. There were no bandages across my right eyelid, only a bare patch of tender skin with tiny, stiff hairs poking out.

The bandages were gone, but the black patch in the right corner of my sight was still there. A chill ran down my spine.

"No. No, no, no..."

A tiny hand-mirror was pushed in front of me. A red-furred fox stared back with a lone, golden eye. The other eyelid was covered in black stitches sutured into pale, bare skin that fell back into the eye-socket. There was nothing hiding behind it.

I screamed, pounding my fist into the desk while the guards laughed. Philippe had done it: he'd taken away my post, my sister, and now he took my eye. Without an eye, I would never be eligible for Dictatorship, all because of that one foolish, old rule.

And now I had no choice but to live with it. Live with the impotent shame that pirate inflicted upon me.

"His Excellency is expecting a reply," Two-Lips said.

A blank sheet was slapped upon the desk. The lion opened up an ink well and stuck the tip of a quill in it before handing it to me. I stared at the sheet, a lump growing in my throat.

All is well here, I hope all is well back home in the Capital...