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Senatora

Senatora Luce sat by the apartment window with a white sheet wrapped around her. Despite the obvious vulnerability that any normal fox would have felt after such an endeavor, she was holding herself with an unflappable grace. Her face was staring out the window with intense eyes and her tail's was calmly wrapped around the legs of her chair, its red fur sleek and immaculate, despite everything.

The cup of my pipe glowed red as the dried tobacco began to smoke. Walking over to the Senatora, I reached forward, her black paws gently gripping the thin pipe and sticking it between her small lips.

"You still have your expensive habits," I laughed.

Smoke shot out of her nostrils as she coughed violently. When her fit finally ended, she spat out, "Are you trying to drug me!?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Marco, if you and your fennec want to fuck me, just say so and we can head over to the bedroom for a minute or however long you last. But once we're done, I expect to have your brain's full attention and not the brain inside your sheathe."

"Senatora, I swear that I wouldn't dream of doing anything of the sort."

"Then what's in the pipe?"

"Tobacco, what else?"

Luce lifted the bowl to her face and waved some of the smoke towards her, her black nose twitching.

"Tobacco, aye," she muttered as her muzzle scrunched up in disgust, "but the bowl is caked with poppy resin. You haven't cleaned this very well."

"It adds a bit of flavor..." I muttered.

Luce lifted up her right paw and poked at it with one of her left claws, "I can barely feel my paws! Don't you realize how strong this shit is?"

"If you're going to keeping bitching instead of smoking it, pass it back!"

"Gladly!" she handed it back to me and I took a quick puff.

Her scent was lingering on the pipe, her lips tasting slightly of juniper berries, which quickly vanished as the acrid mixture of tobacco and old opium filled my lungs. Sighing, I found that Taj had crept up and placed a chair behind me just before I collapsed back into it.

"Marco, have you ever seen the type of folk who take that stuff their entire life?" Luce shook her paw as if to wake it up. "The kinds who live in opium dens?"

Taj's tiny nose rubbed up against my cheek, it was slightly dry from the arid evening but it was enough to bring a smile to my lips.

"He's too adorable after a smoke to ever end up like them," Taj exclaimed as her paw began tracing around my crotch before giving it a tight squeeze, "and far too strong to give in."

"There was an entire Tigris Kingdom that fell to ruin after its King gave into the poppy," Luce leered at Taj with amusement, "and I've known Marco for far longer than you have. I'd like to think I know a thing or two about his weaknesses more than a lowly desert raider."

"Were it not for Marco's intervention, you would have spent the rest of your life licking my cunt and being grateful for it!"

"That's fine, I quite like the taste of horse."

Taj started laughing slightly, growing in intensity until she was clutching at her side. Luce joined in on the giggles with me observing with exasperation.

"Oh, I like her, Marco!" Taj rubbed her head up against my shoulder. "Can we keep her?"

"I think the Republic would have a few issues with me owning a Senatora."

"That's the least of your concerns!" Luce snorted. "You are aware that you've committed treason by taking Sfox?"

"A righteous treason. Philippe has committed great crimes against me by denying me what is mine."

"The Senate denied you the dictatorship, not Philippe and-"

"Who did you vote for, Senatora?"

"Philippe, though I regret it."

"Truly?" I rubbed at my chin.

"I would have voted for Bario instead, had I known what a corrupt, inept tyrant that Philippe turned out to be."

"Bario!? That silver-furred fossil!? Why!?"

"Because he would have died less than a year into his term, returning things back to normal without any drama. I know this because he died of a stroke two months ago and if he hadn't, I'd be at his manor in Vasconia instead of this wretched place!"

"Why are you here, exactly?" I grinned. I knew exactly where this was going.

Luce rolled her eyes, "Plotting a coup with the runner-up, what else?"

"If Philippe is such a tyrant, why not merely stab him and restore the Doge and the Senate?"

"Because as unpopular as Philippe has become, there is no clamoring to restore the Doge. We're at peace in name only and the Doge has effectively retired for good, having realized what a pitiful wartime leader he was. It's unfortunate to say, but we still need a Dictator to guide us through the crisis. With the Truce of Pest up in the air after the Free Alphate of Carpathia was declared, there's a clamoring for war once again, foxes from all walks of life are whispering that the last war ended prematurely..."

"We have something in common then."

Luce ignored me and continued, "War is coming, Marco, and no one has the confidence in Philippe to lead it. He has become a vain buffoon, dictating policy from the safety and comfort of his pleasure ship off the coast of Vulpezzia. He has taken money that was meant for the veteran pension and spent it on new ships for the navy. Worst of all, his original victory, peace with the Alphate in order to ensure commerce, has now faltered as rumors of Alphate pirates raiding fox ships without reprisal from his shiny, new fleet, have become common."

"A pirate undone by pirates," I snorted.

"As for assassination, well, I've already attempted that. The assassin was overpowered and bound to talk, if she hasn't already," Luce tapped her claws on the table and sighed. "And so, now you know all the reasons why I'm here in the colonies. I was going to arrange a rescue party to free you but it would seem you managed on your own."

"Vito sent someone to free me."

"Very good," Luce stood up and bowed slightly, "it would seem your former army still has your loyalty. We should start by arranging passage as soon as..."

"We still have business in Africa, my dear," I waved my paw towards Taj, "I am still a captive of the fennecs, in case you're unaware. Although, according to their promise, I'm to be made into a member of the clan, I still have yet to receive the official position."

"You're my prisoner as well, Senatora," Taj said with a coy smirk.

"The fennecs wanted to make a deal with Philippe for some border modifications and I offered them something better. We'll have to help them take more than Sfox, raise enough hell in the colonies to get Philippe to divert some soldiers here before we take some fennecs back with us as allies."

"You want to bring a horde of barbarians into the heartland of the Republic!?" Luce gasped. "Would you give all of Africa to them as well!?"

"I've got an angle, Luce, just trust me. Both the fennecs and the Republic will benefit."

"I'm supporting your coup, Marco, that doesn't mean I trust you."

"Fair enough," I laughed, "but you also don't have a choice but to go along with it right now. A renegade Senatora and an attempted assassin captured by a traitor and his horde of fennecs? We're in the same boat, you and I, our fates are one."

"Truthful, shameful though it might be," she muttered as she sat back down in her chair, staring out the window wistfully.

"Just wait, we'll meet with the clan tomorrow and everything will be made clear."

The Governor's manor was small and humble on the outside, barely noticeable among all the other buildings of Sfox. It was made of the same white, plastered stone as the other homes around it, but had a small yard at the front that was fenced in by a rusted, iron gate. A patrol of fennecs were circling the building, making it clear to all who dared pass who ruled the city now.

Inside was a different affair. By the standards of a palace of one of the great houses of the Republic or a Senator's residence, it was indeed humble, however the cramped main hall boasted priceless paintings hung up on the wall, some of which were clearly old portraits of humans that had fox heads amateurishly painted over. The room was sweltering with the collected body heat of about thirty fennecs crammed into a small space and smelled strongly of ale, wet fur, and smoke.

As I entered with Laurent, Taj, and Luce in tow, a fennec with more scars than fur, happily ran up to me and kissed me on the cheek before stumbling drunkenly off.

Izil was standing around a wide table in the middle of the room where a map of Africa was rolled out. Tiny pewter statuettes that were brightly painted stood on the map, depicting soldiers of just about every species in North Africa: foxes standing in a pike wall to our North, fennecs to our west atop their horses, hyenas wielding exotic and fantastically curved swords to the far south, and cheetahs armed with nothing more than spears and hide shields sandwiched between them all in their small garden in the Sahara. Even off to the East, there were figures of naked lions wielding clubs and leopards atop their heavily armored steeds, wearing silk robes that had all the colors of the rainbow.

"Aren't those wonderful! The Governor had a whole collection of them!" Izil picked up a fennec figure and held it to the right of his head. It was clearly of a clan leader, wearing a white scarf with a silver band across it, much like Izil. "Doesn't this one look like me?"

An aging fennec grumbled, wrinkling his muzzle in disgust as I joined the table. Itri was hiding in his shadow, silently staring at me intensely.

"Love the eye, by the way, Marco!" Izil placed the figuring back on the table. "Truly inspired!"

"Thank you, Chief," I picked up one of the pikefoxes and stared at him closely. His face had a look of terror on it, fitting for the assault we were planning, "now, regarding my admission to the Clan..."

"I heard Tajeddigt captured a Senatora, is this her?" Izil pointed a claw at Luce.

Taj nodded, "I have claimed her as mine."

Izil sniffed in Luce's direction, "I can smell from here. The clan ring will have to decide on her fate, I'm afraid."

"She will be of use to us and me," I spoke up, "I trust you know I intend to one day return to Vulpezzia?"

"Once we allow it. We have much work to do here," Izil waved his paw across the map, "now then, Tunis is the obvious target. Rumor has it, they're absolutely shitting themselves after what we did here and if we strike now, we can besiege them before they can squeal for reinforcements."

"We need to secure the allegiance of the clans first!" a tired looking, but energetic speaking fennec piped in. His fur was a dark, rusty brown. "And create a bulwark against the hyenas! They're riding straight through cheetah lands without any resistance and soon we'll be next. If we're not careful, we'll be the latest slaves of their new Empire!"

"Nonsense, Merin! You'd defend us from the hyenas only to bend the knee to the foxes, cowards, the whole lot of you!" the older fennec growled fiercely while Itri still hovered behind him. "The other clans will never accept your plan, Itri!"

"Siman," Izil raised his paw and closed his eyes calmly. "We can either stand together or die alone. We will not last much longer as things currently stand. Between being shattered by the hyenas or fighting for a place in the Grand Republic, I would take the foxes."

"Interesting," Luca whispered to me, "do they think the Senate would allow them representation?"

Izil's sharp ears twitched, having heard the entire thing, "If you wish to remain in control of North Africa, yes, Senatora, we think you would. All of this could be yours, in exchange for our votes and autonomy."

"And we would be responsible for protecting you against the hyenas."

"I'm glad we have an understanding!"

"Before we continue," I interjected, planting my paws on the table, "am I to become a member of Clan Agulez or not?"

Groaning, Izil shrugged, "You became a member when I gave you a sword during the siege. What are you expecting, some kind of a party?"

Siman, the older fennec, suddenly slammed his fist on the table, "No! You have to put it to a vote! It is tradition!"

"Very well. I propose that we let General Marco of Carpathia join the noble Clan Agulez. Does any member of the ring oppose this?"

To my surprise, not a single member spoke up, not even Siman, who so aggressively demanded a vote.

"It is settled. Marco, you are now a member of Clan Agulez," Izil cast a glance a Laurent and waved his paw, "And I hereby divorce my bride, Laurent. Now then, can we-"

"No," Siman slammed his fist once again. I noticed Itri was now gone and I tried to look for him in the mass of fennecs, but his diminutive size concealed him very well.

"Don't do anything stupid, Siman."

"I won't," Siman snorted, "but tradition must be upheld."

"Marco!" Laurent shouted as he patted me on the back and I turned around with a jump. Itri was standing before me, staring straight up into my eyes. His lips were peeled up and his eyes were full of burning hatred.

Itri spat straight into my face and I recoiled, wiping his saliva with the sleeve of my clan robes.

"In the name of my brother, I challenge his murderer to single combat!" Itri barked, placing his palms on the hilt of his swords. I did the same with my own blade, preparing to strike in case he tried anything.

"What the hell are you talking about!?" I spat back at Itri, catching him in the right eye.

"Siman, you promised me you'd let the matter die," Izil sighed.

"Aye and you promised me that if the fox acted up, my kit could avenge his littermate's death!" Siman growled. "Look at him! He thinks he owns us!"

"If you kill him, all of our plans will be for naught!" Izil snapped his jaws in anger, a rare sight from him.

"Go stick your plans! No deal with the foxes! We've fought them for two hundred years and we'll fight them and the cursed hyenas for two hundred more!"

Izil suddenly grew calm once again, "You aren't even slightly tempted by the prospect of raiding Vulpezzia itself with General Marco?"

"They can keep their filthy city and we'll keep the desert!" Siman leered at Luce. "Besides, if you really want to make a deal with the foxes, exchange her for a total surrender of land."

"They won't do that," Luce said. Despite the tense situation, her fur was immaculate and her tail was relaxed. Her fate was up in the air if I lost but she showed no fear.

"Siman, I want you to swear to the clan ring right now," Izil called for someone and a fennec wearing different, far heavier robes that trailed on the ground behind him, came waddling into the room and placed a statuette of Canis, depicted as a fennec, on the table. Some kind of a cleric, "swear on Canis that you will let the matter drop and obey the ring's plans if Itri loses."

Siman placed his palm on Canis and muttered a prayer, "I swear that the matter will be considered settled, whether my son or the fox lose."

"The duel shall commence immediately then. Outside, everyone!" Izil clapped his paws together and the crowd of fennecs began to shuffle out, excitedly muttering about the prospect of blood. Itri snarled at me, never taking his eyes off me for a second and spat on the ground at my feet before leaving.

Me and my entourage stood there dumbfounded, except for Taj who seemed very casual about the whole matter.

"What's this about, Taj?" I asked her.

"Do you recall killing a fennec during the night we captured you?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed and then frowned. "You're not saying that was-"

"Itri's brother, yes."

"Why didn't you tell me this!?"

She shrugged.

Flustered, I stomped around the room, eyes wildly scanning the room as if there was some sort of a secret weapon hidden around it. Of all the ways of settling something, a duel was the most idiotic. Foxes once ruled over wolves thanks to them selecting their leaders in wrestling matches long ago. The wolves thought it was a show of strength but in reality it was a show of making sure the lists were stuffed with strong, simple wolves who were more than willing to accept foxen coin. This was equally idiotic and I couldn't believe someone as seemingly sharp as Izil was allowing this to happen.

Where was the thought? The strategy? It all boiled down to brute strength and pure luck! Things that you should never bank a great decision on!

"General, the back entrance," Laurent whispered, "I don't think it's guarded, we can-"

"Marco!" Luce slapped me across the face. "Calm down! You must win this!"

Taj grabbed the Senatora from behind, holding her back from striking at me again. Taj very noticeably took the opportunity to grind up against Luce's behind, which the Senatora did not object to, "I will make sure nothing bad happens to you, captive."

"I can win this, Taj! I just need..." I unsheathed my saber slightly. Most of my fighting experience was on horseback though I have had to do it on foot when necessary. This wouldn't be my first duel either, but every one that I had taken part of was with blunted short-swords and parrying daggers, and we were all horrifically drunk during it.

"You appear lost in thought, Marco."

Izil was standing before me with the priest in the heavy robes.

"Please hand over your sword to the priest. It is tradition to anoint them before a duel."

I slid my blade out and handed it over. The priest took out a vial and began rubbing oil across it with a white rag.

"Everything will work out, Marco," Izil said calmly.

"Foxes normally duel with a parrying dagger."

"And Itri normally fights with two swords but he's agreed to use just one. I have faith in you."

"I wish I had your faith."

"What happened to my proud General? What has caused your confidence to falter? Itri may be a strong warrior, one of the best, but I know you will prevail. You must."

"Any advice?"

"Draw first blood, it's a quick way to shaken his courage. If he shows any sign of fatigue or weakness, go in for the kill," Izil nodded, "it's an insult to fenneckind to show mercy in such a situation. Even if he yields, do not let him live."

"Canis has blessed your sword, my kit," the cleric passed the blade back to me and I slid it effortlessly into its scabbard.

"Oh, and don't worry about cheap blows or stabbing him in the back," Izil laughed, "now go! Destiny awaits!"

Izil clapped me on the back and just about shoved me out the door into the blazing hot noontime sun.

Itri was completely nude, showing off his diminutive sheath to the entire world. Very brave of him. Some fennecs began disrobing me as well and I let them, assuming it to be some kind of tradition and also so that everyone could see I was the larger fox in more ways than just my height. A few fennec vixens gasped and murmured lewd jokes among themselves in the crowd.

The sun, Great Felis, was she hot that day! Only seconds after having my clothes removed, my nose and pads began to sweat profusely. I resisted the urge to pant, not wishing to show any weakness to Itri, who was strutting around energetically.

"Villain! I will avenge my brother's death! I will have you pleading for mercy within the minute, mercy that you never showed my brother! All the world will know what a craven criminal Marco of Carpathia is and of his ignoble defeat. Die in obscurity, scum, and perhaps Canis will see fit to forgive you of your transgressions! I have no forgiveness, only pure-"

"By Canis!" I shouted in the middle of Itri's rant. "Taj was right! I liked you a lot better when you kept your mouth shut! Don't embarrass your brother beyond the grave with your melodramatic ramblings!"

Itri charged forward with one of his swords drawn, screaming a warcry, but was stopped by the priest thumping him in the chest with his palm. Itri slowly backed off back to his position on the other side of the sandy field.

Something wet pressed up against my cheek. Taj was nuzzling me gently and I took in her rosy scent, which helped relax me a little.

"You can do it, my love!" she whispered. "And if you don't, I'll avenge your death."

"A cycle of revenge?" I muttered.

"Such is life!"

Taj hopped over the iron fence, taking her place among the spectators surrounding the Governor's manor.

"Let this duel not stop until submission or death! Commence!"

The priest waddled away as quick as he could, kicking up a storm of dust that the wind mercifully blew in Itri's direction. While the fennec coughed, I charged forward and swung my blade at his skull. Itri rose his sword blindly and crashed it into my own, thrusting forward and knocking me back with a stagger.

Itri struggled to cough up a dirty wad of spit still. I remembered what Izil said and continued to take advantage of his weakness, examining him quickly and leaping in with a slice at his side.

It felt like I hit nothing but air as Itri leaped to the side, but I was vindicated by the sight of a tiny ruby on the sand.

"The General has drawn first blood!" Laurent cheered amidst a chorus of boos. It would seem that despite their apparently loyalty to the clan ring and our mutual plans, most people just wanted to see the fox get struck down.

To my surprise, Izil's advice seemed to have come true. Itri's eyes were locked on the blood, his nose turning a sickly pale. Just about looked like he was going to pass out here and there.

Too bad he wasn't dizzy enough to let me split his skull open. He jumped back just in time, clanging his sword against mine. Retching slightly, Itri spat out a thick glob of saliva before leaping forward.

Canis, was he was fast! Lightning in fennec form! Graceful footwork like a prize dancer but with legs as strong as a horse! His arms snapped like a whip with ever lash of his blade! Even I could not help but confess his skill and courage in battle, even as I pranced precariously out of his assault...

That's what the stories told you about this duel, is it not?

Maybe you heard that he dashed forward with one sweep and then, sheathing his blade, declared himself the winner, before looking down at his belly and realizing I had sliced him open.

Or perhaps you heard the version where we tilted lances at each other atop white horses? By Canis, I swear I witnessed a storyteller who professed that to be the truth!

No, if there is one thing I will insist upon with you, it is that I tell the truth and nothing less.

Duels are nasty, short affairs that end very quickly with someone seriously injured or worse and on the rare occasion that they're not short, it gets even worse.

This was one of the latter.

Itri's sword landed against my blade, snapping it in half. The severed bit of the blade flung out into the audience and I heard a scream. I never found out if someone got hit, I was too busy swinging my foot into Itri's balls.

I felt my foot-claws tear flesh and fur. I winced, holding my ears down as Itri shrieked in pain. When the noise stopped, I unplugged my ears and opened my eyes. Itri was staring straight at me, his sword several feet away in the sand and his thighs dripping with blood.

He made a leap for his sword but I was too quick for him, tackling him to the dirt. I swung my claws at his face but he was able to wrap his paws around my wrist and hold me back.

"Beg for mercy, fennec," I spat down at his face and kneed him in the crotch, "and I'll let you keep your life and manhood, if you still have it."

"Fuck you, monster!"

Itri's eyes rolled up suddenly and he went limp. I snapped my fangs forward and felt the sweet, salty taste of blood as I tore flesh away;

I spat out the chunk of flesh but was only able to catch a glimpse of Itri and his missing upper-lip before he regained his strength and rolled me onto my back and pinned me down. He slashed his claws at my face and I was too slow to dodge.

Pain screamed through my skin just over my right eye and I felt his claws bounce off my false eye. Had he aimed for my left, I would have surely gone blind.

What remained of Itri's lips peeled back, exposing blood-soaked fangs and he snapped forward. I braced my foot up against his chest, holding him back as he spat saliva and blood all over my face.

"No injury is too great! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kil-!"

I cracked a stone against the side of his snout and he hit the dirt. I stood up, lording over my fallen foe, who curled up in a fetal position, quivering slightly.

"Fennec, you might as well beg for mercy!" I laughed, kicking him in the ribs. "Beg hard enough and perhaps I'll let you live as my bed-slave!"

Blood pooled up in the sand from his thighs.

"Or eunuch perhaps! Whichever suits your condition!"

I hoisted up the bloodied stone and held it aloft Itri.

"Stop," he rasped, holding up his paw, which quivered violently. Vomit and foam pooled at his lips, escaping onto the dirt like magma.

He hacked painfully, clutching at his stomach.

"I don't...I don't feel..."

"Let's hear it, everyone!" I shouted to the crowd who were now cheering me on, despite their bias towards fennec-kind. "Let's hear him beg!"

"Som-" Itri heaved and spat up a beige mess of half-digested food, "-wrong. S-stop...help..."

He was truly pitiful. An absolute wreck. I didn't recall hitting him in the head with the rock, but he was acting like he had a fatal blow to the skull.

Part of me thought back to Goliath and how I showed him mercy when he was my prisoner, gaining a loyal subject. Perhaps Itri could be another such case? Put aside our differences and find forgiveness and friendship? Or perhaps more?

I truly believe that you can win over skilled and talented foes through mercy.

But what was one fennec compared to thousands?

I swung the rock down.

Itri wasstill.

A mournful cry rang out and Siman charged forward, grabbing his kit's sword. I snarled, bracing for him to make his move, but the old fennec kneeled down beside Itri's body and placed the sword's tip against his chest and fell forward.

Both were still now.

There was no jubilant crowd anymore, they began to slowly filter out, mournfully silent and perhaps full of regret at having ever been excited for the bloodsport. Even Laurent, Taj, and Luce kept their lips tight, quietly moving back into the building.

Soon it was just me and Izil, who patted me on the shoulder. A long pipe was curled up in his free paw, familiar, acrid smoke gently wafting out of it.

"You did well, Marco," he offered me the pipe, "here, it will help take the edge off."

"This was stupid," I wiped blood away from beneath my false eye and brought the pipe to my lips.Almost instantly, the aches and sores of battle washed away.

"Indeed," Izil sighed, "but you've fought your way into the clan with honor and respect."

"Have I? The crowd seemed disturbed at best."

"It's just how we process death, do not worry, they hold you in higher esteem then they ever did Itri or his father now."

"I suppose so," I walked over to the mansion and leaned up against the stone, "at least I won fair and square."

"Yes, you did," Izil's ears twitched in just about every direction imaginable before stepped close and whispering into my ear, "nightshade is a very honorable tactic, so long as no one finds out about it."

"What!?" I gasped, dropping the pipe into the dirt.

"Keep your voice down!" Izil snapped my muzzle shut as his ears twitched once again. "What did you think that blessed oil was?"

"Olive oil! Canis be damned, what were you thinking!?"

"You thought that I didn't care one way or another about you? That whether you lived or died, I'd help my clan prosper?" Izil pressed his nose up against my cheek passionately. "That's over with! I've had my taste of victory and I crave it! Nothings going to stop us from taking back the colonies, nothing! You and me, Marco, we're going to raise hell!"

Izil stared down at the two dead fennecs with disdain.

"No one's going to stop us."