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Thirteen: The Weight of the World

(I was directed to the grand temple, where I marvelled the most out of all buildings in this one massive estate. Where I was brought was before the High Priestess of the sanctuary. I felt no fear, seeing this cat stand in front of me. She knelt to me. She was so beautiful, looking like a snow leopard, but having emerald eyes.

(She asked me, "What is your name?"

(I hesitated. I didn't trust her. She was someone who meant no harm, but she was still a stranger. I lied, "I... I have no name...")

(Her eyes did not waver. However, her subordinate, a golden leopard, showed concern, which this cat dismissed. The cat asked, "Did your name die with your family?"

(I did have a given name, but I had no knowledge of my surname, and I refused to adopt my step-father's family name. I looked away. She might have been right to think that who I was, died with my mother and step-father. I changed the subject, stammering, "M-my s-step-father... t-told me t-come here... As if h-he was here, t-too. H-his name was... C-Clement..."

(There was silence again, which I welcomed. I tensed when the cat placed a hand upon me. She said, "His death was not your fault." I swiftly turned around. I could not let her see me cry as I'd done numerous times over that one day. This had all happened so fast. What I wished was that I did not attempt for so long to drive him away. The cat said, "I know it is hard, but dare are others who share your suffering, who can help you through." I then heard her tell the leopard, "Show her to de cubs' quarters."

(The leopardess objected, "But High Priestess"-

(The cat interrupted, "Please. I wish to not turn away a cub, regardless of genus." No wolves in this orphanage? Only felines?

(I was led by that leopardess, who was clad in an earth-green dress with golden bands and a crest that I couldn't make out, along a sandy field, to a mosaic stone path that we took, and I found patches of grass along with small plants. I saw a few felines playing, but quickly turned my gaze ahead, not wanting to make eye contact with them. I could hear them following, aware of a newcomer being brought to one of their long wooden constructs.

(The inside was filled with cots in simple metal frames. Many other felines rushed inside, and I suddenly became nervous from being around about as many cubs in the entire school where I attended. The leopardess waited until possibly every cub gathered in, which was half of an hour later. My feet were sore now from all that walking and standing. The leopardess announced, "We have a new resident. Please, make her feel welcome. Let her feel like she belongs."

(The leopardess ruffled my crown of fur before heading out of the construct. I still stood at the doorway, hesitant. All these felines from the large to the small. I had never felt so out of place. After the long hesitation, one of the felines spoke, "We still have empty beds. Pick any of them." So, I did. I went along the space separating the two rows of cots until I found one with a nightstand that had no personal decorations. Fair place to start my life at this new place.)

"I've done it", I say on the telephone of the house where I have rented a bedroom. I have not slept since the execution of the sadist, and I am eager to get the news out.

"Done whot?" Jack asks, irritable that I have clearly woken him.

"Diefenbach will not bother you or your men again", I specify. "I believe that Giffard and Lieven have found him as literally half the dog he used t-be."

Jack barks, "Diefenbach? Dead? And both Giffard and Lieven were at the asylum?" He continues, "You continue to impress me, Death." He chuckles. "Ta think yeh'd be mad yerself."

I respond, "I just wanted to tell you before anyone else does. I knew you would be jovial."

"Aye", Jack says. "I am also joyous that we got ter 'elp each other. Don' tell me mercenaries, but yeh've done a better job than they 'ave." He continues on a different subject. "Whilst I am still on, take a note." I hastily take a quill, ink, and a sheet. Jack explains, "When you are in Subroot, go to a brick flat. It has two metal chimneys. There, you will find a medical doctor named Cecilia Lagorio. She will give you more detail about your target lingering there. Whether you earn the full rewards from police for the bounty hunts on 'is men is not me business."

"Cheers, Jack", I say. I could ask how he knows I've been fulfilling bounty hunts, but I see no time. "Yeh're a good man fer a gangster."

"So I've bin told", he jests. He continues seriously, "I need t-sleep. Happy 'untin'."

We bid goodbye before I hang up. He is right. It is late. And I also need my sleep.

"Frances Derrickson. Mink. Brothel owner. One woman to whose purse Giffard has appealed. She bought from Jade Crown in her first few years working with Giffard before she started buying directly from another dealer in Manusdale where her brothel is. Though less potent than that distributed by the Lowell House, it can still make her slaves tame. My informants have told me that she has begun breeding her slaves, using prostitutes that become worthless to be made little workers for other gangs. If not, those young potential slaves will be made game for the poor. If you intend to burn her brothel down, I recommend wine, if not oil."

That is what Jack has written about my next target. I have a promise to fulfil. I will not go back on it. Early in the day, I sit on the roof of the house where I have rented the bedroom, wearing my blue suit, but not my mask or my eyepatch. My friend perches next to me, looking intently at me, as I take in the look of this borough. This house is one of the few to have two floors. Many townhouses here are flats. I see a factory in the distance, the chimneys already creating a cloud of smoke. The sky is still cloudy, but the rising sun shines. The atmosphere smells of coals and the factory smoke, just overpowering the stench of rotting waste.

Keeping my eyes on the sunrise, I say, "I try... I try so hard to 'elp others... I can protect only myself, but I wish t-protect others from whot could have been my life." My friend, understanding that, caws once. I look to him in response. Michi has been as close to me as I have been to the High Priestess, her daughter, and Themba. I continue, "You 'ave led me to oll places I had to go to. You know me so well. You must think _something_about me." Michi only cocks his head like a clock's hand, left and right. I sigh, looking to the sunrise again. A new day is upon me. Another day to fulfil bounty hunts. I need that money.

By lunchtime, I have the information on two wanted criminals staying in the borough. The first one that I see to, is a drug-dealing ferret. In apprehending him, I enable a courtesan to rip him off as I bring him to the station house starkers. The second that I apprehend is a cat, telling me to not let prejudice interfere. This cat has been wanted for a long list of assaults, and victims as well as witnesses willing to testify at his trial. This cat does not go down easily. I have to draw my Khopeshes for him.

He does not only rely on his nature, but makes him seem to improve, for he has fashioned himself a glove with hooks on the fingers. He pounces me the second time, having donned his glove. This time, I parry with my Khopesh. The number of blades matters not in a fight. However, I have no time to finish my counter, for he pounces backwards, and then springs back to me. The cat swipes at me again, but I repeat the cycle of the parry, only to not finish it. I cannot end this fight holding back.

I have a chance. Remember your training. I let him leap at me, and make him miss, awaiting an opening. Upon the next pounce, I seize that moment. I swing both Khopeshes, but not with the inner arcs. The other side of each is blunt enough to knock the wind out of him. I kick him before I loom over him with my right Khopesh to his throat, and growl, "Yield." Without waiting for an answer, I take the glove off of him, and then use the hilt of my left Khopesh to bludgeon his head, knocking him out.

There is a problem that has been with me for the day. I have been feeling warmer than I should have been, especially on this spring day. It seems to not leave me even at the start of the evening. Peculiarly, I feel no inner chills. That rules out the fever from heat or coldness taking its toll. There is only one other thing that could be.

Whilst I am in Manusdale, I know one place that I go to, and I can find it without Michi's guidance. I have let him have the evening off. The Bartlett Marketplace is an open place, but thanks to the industrial workplaces, the booths have metal roofs and podia. The lustre and the rust on the metal of the booths seem to be how they are told apart for those who cannot read.

The people shopping or socialising make no big crowd, and I need not look at them, to be aware of their surprise of the vigilante shopping. I look carefully at each podium of the booths, and I find the meat and fish merchants just closing for the night, having earned their wages and having their own dinner to think about. I also seek someone that could be the dealer to see. The dealers that I have already passed are rabbits, squirrels, and foxes.

After scanning the two pairs of rows, I realise who I need to see. I turn a heel on the stone ground and stride to a fruit stand watched by an otter, dressed like an aristo, wearing a green suit, white shirt, red tie, and a top hat with a metal band. I comment, "Dressed like that, you attract too much attention."

"Says the lady wearing a mask", the otter retorts. I'll give her that. I have to smirk, for it is her voice that has informed me that the otter is female.

I clarify, "I address your ability to afford such an attire, for a merchant." I lean in closer, to better align my gaze with hers.

"I am not one to sell myself", she growls.

"I would not question such", I assure. "I only came 'ere fer merchandise o' yers."

The otter comments, "Go ahead."

I get as close I can, kneeling to the counter, and I specify in a low tone, "I seek something in particular: spiced pears, the MacNiadh brand."

The otter grins before she says, "Yeh cannot be the kind to utilise such a tool... But I am glad t-sell." She then gets down, only her head visible, and then shuffles for something. With a cranking device, she brings up a tray of pear-like devices, and then hops back up to her stand. She asks, "How many would y-like?"

As lowly, I answer, "I hope to buy six of them. I 'ave six hundred fifty pounds fresh off of bounty hunts."

The otter raises a finger, chuckling, and says, "Now I know: Jack 'as told me of 'is friend the vigilante." She continues in an informative tone, "Normally I would charge an 'undred five pounds each, for they are not so cheap t-make."

I present the thick wad on the counter, and tell her, "You drive an 'ard bargain."

She gives me six of the bombs, one of which I examine as the otter comments, "Thanks t-you an' the bounty 'unts, I kin eat meat tonight. And Jack will be thrilled that you like 'is pears." For the shape, the bomb seems large for a pear. I can confirm that they are like the incendiaries that I have utilised, for I remember the components that can be seen.

I add, "An' that I put them to good use."

(My first few nights of sleeping in the dormitory of this orphanage were hard. The cot was much more comfortable than the bed that I had to lay in back in Tolden, but the fact remained that I would never see my mother or step-father again. Even though I could sleep well when giving in to it, I dwelt on my regret of never giving Clement the respect that a father deserved. I had known all along that he was not my real father, but he wanted to be the father that this cub deserved. He wanted to be close to me, for a family is all that we have that can stay with us. And I had taken him for granted all these years. I could only wish that I never ignored him or insulted him.

(Whatever school this orphanage had, it was nothing like the school that I went to. The similarity was that I could not connect to these cubs. I stood out among felines. In addition to the rectangular muzzle, I was much taller than the kittens. All these cubs had long stares toward me, but had no malicious intent. There were no lies built upon assumptions about my parents. They had no ill will toward me. Unfortunately, it felt too good to be true; a dream that taunted me about what I wished my life was like.

(Every teacher was understanding, but they were worried about me, just like all the other cubs were. Over those first few days, attending classes, the teachers would ask to talk to me after dismissal. They would want to know what was wrong, but I wanted to not say. The other orphans knew the truth, and expressed their worry to the teachers. They would hear me cry at night, and they would see me at the front gate after classes, but I never had any intention to escape. Where would I go now that I lost the only family I knew?)

(After a week of living in the orphanage, I began reading my mother's book, the first page having a warning that everything written was true. Of course, I ignored that and went on. I read all about my mother's family history, who my grandparents were, and how my grandmother, and then my mother being enslaved to a clan. The heart of that clan was a she-wolf: Lady Rodica Campana.

(Just the first few pages of reading and I was filled with so much rage that I screamed and threw the book. It was so disturbing to the other cubs that many of them looked at me with that seemingly perpetual worry. I realised what I did, and I felt like crying, feeling bad about lashing for no reason. I walked up to the opposite side, to pick up the book, and I told the golden leopard at that bed, "Sorry."

(It was to avoid making such a scene again, I chose not to read on. Even still, I wanted to believe that my mother's story was just that. I had trouble sleeping yet again, and I could only hope to have no nightmare about what my mother went through. I was thankful to have no nightmare already, but I was afraid that the same wolf would see me again.)

Oh, how I hate doing this. I am already at the brothel owned by Frances Derrickson. I have located it thanks to my raven friend, who I told to seek the crest with which I have familiarised. A day has gone by since I have obtained Jack's spiced pears. Because I could only stay awake, I hunted and killed lurking criminals, looting them, as well. Sleep was hard to come by. The first sign was being warmer than normal. Then, there came the tightness in the sensitive area. I cannot deny it: I am in heat.

So, I am at the brothel with the crest from the Lowell House: The Ark's Remains. The name is painted on a gold-tinted plaque accented by the wood, painted red, making up the outer walls. I enter it, seeing it bustling with clientele for drinks, meals, and flirting with scantily-clad females that wanted to be anywhere else. No enemy of mine should know by now who the vigilante is, seeing a black she-wolf in a grey pinstripe suit and having an eyepatch over the right eye.

I sit at the bar, which has a polished counter and is tended by three rabbits that look the same for their grey pelts, but I look at each of them, seeing flecks of black on their faces. Only their patterns can tell them apart. In looking around further, I see a litter of rats backed into a corner, having been bound by a single ankle to a pole. No doubt they beg for food. Any of us can eat anything. Those rats could only be four or five years old.

One of the grey rabbits comes to me, asking, "Whot service can I provide you?" She sounds both bored and weary.

I ask back, "Are any courtesans 'ere cats?" The rabbit points and I look right. There are three cats, also bound by one leg to a pole. A stoat in a business dress stands by idly. I then ask, "Which one is the youngest?"

The rabbit answers, "June. The calico. She's nineteen." The calico, wearing a very revealing dress, seems primarily white, with splotches of black and brown on one shoulder, her midsection, her legs, and on the left side of her face.

I ask, "How much d-you charge fer a session?"

"A hundred quid each."

I head to the first man that I see, a light-grey cat with a white chin, in the middle the of tables, and he has his eyes on the cats as well. I ask him, "How would y-like t-share a session with one o' them?"

He comments, "You love cats." I do not answer, but he smiles. "Y-might need t-pay me, too." I scowl, making him laugh.

Before he speaks again, I say, "I will cover your fee along with mine."

The light-grey cat raises a hand and objects, "Nay, I couldn' make you do that." He stands up and he follows me to the trio.

I tell the calico, "I will 'ave you."

The stoat unlocks the cuff on her ankle, and the cat escorts me and the male after we pay the fee to the stoat.

The block of apartments seems to have twice the area of the dining chamber. Where the calico named June leads me and the light-grey stranger is in one hall and to the end of it, apparently favouring a corner apartment. The door of it is not locked. She leads us inside, the walls being covered with checker-pattern wallpaper, the space being occupied by four dressers of the same size and same pattern as each other, and a wide four-poster covered by a golden-orange spread and several sweat-stained pillows.

The cat asks, "Who will lead this session?"

"Me", I answer.

The light-grey cat comments wryly, "Someone knows whot she wants."

I look to him with a scowl, to say, "You already paid. No turning back. For this, I want both a woman and a man."

The light-grey cat infers, "Of course, your lust." I assume that he knows why I have approached a stranger and hired a courtesan.

We are all quick to undress, the light-grey cat being the most eager. He is naked before I have my slacks off. The calico is slow to join. I can see that she is not up to this, but I hope that she can see it through. The light-grey cat has already been idle on the bed for a few minutes before I am naked. He expresses his eagerness further by aggressively signing for the calico to approach.

With all three of us on the bed, the light-grey cat asks, "Know you whot you want?"

I tell both cats, "To be sandwiched between you two."

I get June behind me, and I guide her hands to my midsection, but I keep the light-grey cat nudged away, for I want June to enjoy the feel of a wolf's fur. I feel her shudder, probably from my lifting tail tickling her sensitive area. She massages my midsection with her arms wrapped around me. The light-grey cat realises how much seeing two women engage arouses him, and I see him cup his own bollocks, the barbed head of his bobber slipping out of its sheath. Dark-grey like his nose. The calico moans contently as she begins caressing my hips, and I can see the light-grey cat salivating.

The teasing is to end quickly; I sign him to approach, which he gladly does, but I stop him. I nuzzle into his neck, and the surge of warmth drives him to purr. I have my arms around him as I lick his fur, and he slowly lowers his hands from my shoulders to my breasts, which he cups and teases, down to the hardened nipples, which he finds on the first try. Meanwhile, June, pressing against my back, caresses my buttocks and legs, to my joy. She begins licking as far as she can reach to my neck, while the light-grey cat begins grinding against my vulva.

The light-grey cat nudges me to lay down, much to the calico's disappointment. I let him lick my cunt as the calico aligns with me, so she can kiss me. For someone not feeling up to it, something must have driven her. I return the kiss, and she moans from it. I moan as well from my cunt moistening from the stranger's rough tongue. I can feel the arousal growing, and I can feel myself explode. Even from that, the stranger keeps on licking, moaning from the smell and taste of my juice.

There is a short break as I give back. I suck on the stranger's bobber, making him moan in ecstasy, and I keep going until I can feel his juice in my mouth, which I swallow and lap up until only my saliva is on him. I then have my turn massaging the calico. She is in pure bliss from my warm hands over her shoulders and then on her breasts. I can just tell that the stranger wants to be aroused again, for he watches with expectations.

He will be thankful for it. I massage his maleness again, getting it aroused, and then I lap on it, letting it engorge more and more. I grind upon him, making the bed creak. Before long, I can feel him harden. I feel before I get his bobber inside me, and then push with all my might. The bedframe creaks with each thrust to get the stranger inside me. While making that happen, I signal the calico over, to squat over the light-grey cat's muzzle. Relying on no hands to thrust him inside me, I cup her breasts and kiss her. We exchange kisses again as I grind the meat inside me, getting it in as far as it can. Meanwhile, the light-grey cat laps his tongue on the calico's cunt.

I begin rushing it, for I remind myself to not hold back. I let my juices go. In only seconds, the stranger stops his lapping and shouts, "I'm about to"- I pull away from him right away, getting him right out of me. Then, he shoots streams of his seed.

We all pant from the ordeal having taken its toll, and I state, "I had t-do that... I could not take chances..." I at least spent the hormones. I lay down, taking the cats in my arms, letting them rest their heads on my shoulders. All three of us nod off.

When I wake up, it is the calico that I look to. I examine her body, which is rather skinny, but her pelt is soft and neat, telling me that she at least can be clean. I look at her arms, which tell me nothing. I roll her over slightly, and there is what I seek: the house crest, burnt into her shoulder. She probably knows that fleeing will get her in trouble. However, that did not stop me from enabling the sex slaves in Sputure to escape their place of oppression.

She moans and slowly opens her eyes, stretching. I wish that I could tell her how I intend to enable a coup, but where will that get me? Holly could have died for keeping the extra money that I gave her. These young courtesans could die or be transported to another oppressor before I could ignite the place.

"Something bothers yeh", a voice from my left speaks. I look, to see that the light-grey cat is still there, and that I am not fooled by the weight.

I tell him lowly, "You would not understand."

The stranger sits up, telling me, "You empathise with whores. I kin see that." Why would I not? He continues, "Everything is better than living in a whorehouse, but poverty leads to desperation." He knows nothing. "I know the meaning of that mark. Be careful who you 'elp, Lass." The light-grey cat then stands up from the bed, to retrieve his crumpled work clothes and don them.

I focus on the calico again, who has listened to the stranger. She takes in my gaze of worry. She asks, "Whot's wrong, Ma'am?"

I sigh. "I just feel sad fer those forced into servitude."

Knowing that I've seen the crest on her, her jade eyes get glassy. She knows more than she leads on, but she could find it too painful to speak of or could be forbidden to say why she's here. Both cases being the reason is another probability.

I lick her nose and slowly sit up, realising how painful it is to end the embrace. I locate the bathhouse myself, wandering the halls naked, and then retrieve my clothes from the apartment. However, when exiting, I flirt with the weasels having the keys to the cuffs binding the cats, rabbits, and rats to the poles. I nick the keys from their pockets, and put each in a different pocket. In exiting the brothel and going for my things, I memorise which position uses which keys.

(More days followed of everyone trying to get through to me. The cubs, teachers, and the guards would see me have an outburst. I never laid a hand upon another cub, but I still scared them, and being around me became like walking on glass shards. I tried reading more pages of my mother's book, but I could not do that without howling in rage and throwing the book. All that I wanted was for those words to be bloody lies.

(In a month of living at the orphanage, I was asked to see the High Priestess in the Grand Temple. It was the first time I took in the mosaic stone floor, the pews, the black walls with stained-glass windows, the golden throne at the altar with bush patterns, and the lioness idol statue. The golden throne was occupied by a cat in a white robe with blue sashes. She looked so radiant despite the dim torchlight. I knew to show respect right there and then. My heart sank as I dropped to my knees and faced the floor.

(I heard the calm voice speak, "Look up, my child." I did so tenderly, and I saw the beauty of the cat in the emerald eyes and the silver fur. She stood up and added, "You may stand." With reluctance caused by fear, I did so slowly. I approached her at the altar, and I saw that she was about as tall as I was at the time. She spoke, "You are troubled by more than the death of your parents." That fear became sadness. I cried instantly. She quickly put her hand on my shoulder, adding, "You can tell me anything, my child."

(I inhaled lowly before I said lowly, "M-my mother... my mother left me... a book... telling me horrible things..."

("What tings?" she asked.

(I hesitated, and spoke, trying to not cry again, "Sh-she... she was... a slave... t-to... to a house... And she was treated horribly!"

(She just listened to me cry again, and then waited for the right moment between sobs to say, "Dat is what my... organisation fights against." I give her a puzzled look. She continues, "I know of de crime in Highcond, in dese times. And you are a victim. You told me your step-father's name, Clement."

("You couldn't have known him."

(She spoke with assurance, "But I did. I remember the names of everyone who has served the organisation, and I was barely of age den. He had worked for my predecessor before I took de mantle. A great agent, never captured." I could not believe it. The High Priestess added, "I know disbelief when I see it. However, I speak truth. He worked for me for six years before he resigned, saying dat he met someone more important to him." My mother. "You are not de first orphan to be distraught by such losses. Dat is why de Sanctuary was erected here, over a century ago. Wit time and patience, I assure you, de truth will be believed and you will be strong yourself." Without a question, I wrapped my arms around the cat, and I could feel at ease from her soft fur.)

Upon my return to the brothel, now armed with the incendiaries as well as my blades, I think about my plan for the tenth time. I intend to visit the Madame first, and raid the office of the money that the slaves deserve. I find the office at the back of the building. I find that the mink in the ugly bright-pink business suit is not alone, and the face of her company is all too familiar.

I listen carefully as much as the mask muffles sound. The mink speaks, "...a very important meeting."

The badger retorts, "You are in no poseetion to demand such."

The mink growls, "You must understand that I need 'im to answer me."

Lieven objects, "Claude steel mourns 'is brother. 'Ow tink you, he vould like eef you ignored 'im over grieving your brother?"

"He and I have not spoken even when Giffard recruited us both; Joshua means nothing to me." Cold thing to say. Does Giffard hate his sister? If so, why does he have an incestuous relationship? Frances continues, "Do not change the subject. And whot good have mercenaries done lately? That is why I 'ave loyal girls. No weasel would betray another weasel." And yet she hates her brother?

Lieven growls back, "You need to tink before you vaste my time, Frances. Do vat you vish vit your slaves, but ze next time you call me 'ad better be on some-ting less petty." I can hear footsteps, followed by a wooden door opening and closing. I time the badger, estimating how long he would take to get from Frances's office to the front door.

After that, I back up. I built momentum by sprinting to the window. I managed to shatter the glass and get through. I quickly leap up, to find the mink still there. She picks up a pistol, but I duck and pick up the largest shards in sight. She fires a bullet--Great. Now everyone has been alerted. I still toss the two shards as the distraction. I grab her right arm. With just a yank, I break it, making her squeal.

I rely on my stiletto for the death blow. I turn her to face me, so she can see the face of the one to plunge the blade in her throat. I watch the life leave her eyes as she chokes on her own blood.

So much for surprise. Her loyal weasels, three stoats and three ferrets, all in business dresses, draw their pistols. Instinctively, I toss the body of their late boss as a distraction. So much for waiting to loot the vault as well. I leap toward them head-on, drawing my Khopeshes as I do so. I thrust both blades to the centre pair, one stoat and one ferret.

With little effort needed, I utilise the blade to force the four arms down, so that their bullets miss. I have to focus on one side first. I pick the left side first. I leap and flip over them, using their bodies as support. Upon landing I thrust my Khopeshes into the stoats, and then kneel, using the bodies as shields from the bullets. I am fortunate this time, their ammunition being made for maximum wound effect. When the ferrets have to reload, I get the blades out and leap toward the last two weasels. I slash across their midsections, resulting in a deep cut in each of them, and they fall aside, coughing blood. I slash their throats, to make sure that they do not get up.

I rummage through the papers kept in the metal drawers of Frances's desk, and I obtain the combination to her safe. I get all Frances's money in an improvised sack from her jacket. I strip her body and toss out the window, saying plainly, "Tameni."

Striding, I head out, and find myself at the bar. I tell the first rabbit, which is surprised by my entrance, "If y-want t-leave 'ere forever, recommend me a potent wine." She hesitates, of course. So, I repeat, "What potent wines d-you sell?"

The rabbit answers, "We keep an 'undred bo'-uls of the same brand, most of it alcohol."

"Tell yer partners there to gather oll bottles." The rabbit does so, telling them that I requested all their wine. Meanwhile, I approach the poles where the young rats are cuffed by the ankle. I take out a tiny key that I can barely hold with a thumb and a single finger. I am right that it opens the cuff on one rat. I move the key to my palm, presenting it. I tell the young rat, "Use this t-free yer siblings. Find yer mother right after and get out of 'ere." The young rat complies without hesitation. I rush to the rest of the poles where other young rats and rabbit kittens are cuffed by the ankle. For each of them, I test the keys to free one and give it to that one to free the rest. How Frances intended to sell these youngsters, I want to not know.

When I am finished, I find the rabbits there, the bar counter occupied by bottles of red wine of the same brand. I dash up. Checking the label is the first instinct, but I force the cork off the bottle that I pick up, and a quick whiff is enough to assure me. Perfect. I tell the rabbits, "I will need yer 'elp. This wine will not be used fer a banquet." I throw the same bottle on the floor, catching the attention of the patrons. I speak up, "I will say this only once: if y-want to live, leave. This place will burn. Do not be expendable in the process."

One dog in the crowd approaches me. I grab his arms before he can reach for a pistol, and then butt his head. I yank his pistol out from behind his blazer, and then kick him away. Unloading the pistol, I add, "Does anybody else challenge?" Other patrons. I count nine of them standing up, pointing their guns at me. I can use one of Jack's bombs right now, but that would ruin my plan.

However, just my luck, the rat pups and rabbit kittens tackle the patrons--dogs and weasels--to the floor, venting their anger and using their energy from being pent-up for so long. The ones not carrying guns run for the front door. Turning back to the barwomen, I speak, "I will need yer 'elp fer this part. Oll wine--pour it oll over the floor. Leave no floorboard untouched with this wine."

"Even the bathhouse?" the same rabbit I have ordered asks.

"Yes", I answer bluntly. "No part of this place deserves to be undamaged."

The first part of the brothel where I pour the wine is in Frances's office. I open every door to the apartments where the courtesans lived, ordering their patrons to leave the place naked. More bastards to be humiliated in the process of my quest to destroy Giffard's clan. The ladies quickly dress and take their patrons' clothes, money, and weapons with them. It still takes at least an hour, coating the entire wide single-floor construct in wine. The bathhouse is the first place I toss an incendiary, and it causes a roaring fire the second it impacts. I expect its wooden walls to give way. I toss another incendiary in the hall, igniting the trails of wine. I get the rabbits to leave, to give the courtesans waiting, the money that I have taken from Frances's vault. I toss a third incendiary and the entire dining room is set ablaze. That is not all; I have gathered pages from the office, and I toss them into the dining room, in hopes of helping the process along. Even when the entire brothel has been evacuated, I watch the blaze claim the entire building. The fire safety crew will be too bloody late to do anything about the damage. I see the fire and smoke get through all the windows and doorway, building up to a cloud. As I make sure of the damage, I listen for the wood giving way. In a minute, the first fragile support budges and I hear wood fall. The fire that has engulfed the entire construct is doing its job; it causes more support to break, making more panels fall to the floor. That fire spreads to the fallen planks.

I look to the side, sensing that someone is waiting for me. I hear a voice that I recognise call to me, "Look out!" I swiftly turn around, to find the familiar scarred badger lunging toward me. I lunge aside--

Only to be scratched at that side, a slit having opened in my coat. I quickly draw my Khopeshes, but I have not enough time to prepare a stance, for he swings his claws at me. I just barely parry the attack, hearing metal hit metal from that... No time to think about that, either. I kick him away, only for him to grab my leg, and he pulls me down. Upon stamping my midsection, he stands over my chest. Only at that moment, I can see that his claws are not natural! He plunges his left hand toward my neck, but I manage to scratch his side with my right Khopesh, slowing his blow. I utilise the blade's other side to push his arm aside, to swipe at him again. Now, I can get up. I thrust my left Khopesh to his leg, only for him to back up. With the same blade, I swipe upwards as a feint, which he falls for. I then lunge aside, to kick him against the wall of the burning construct, which breaks. I have no time now; I have overstayed my welcome in Manusdale. So, I sheathe my Khopeshes as I run from the sight of the fire. I need not look back, to have an image of the badger taking off his jacket and hurrying after me.