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(Satire warning: if you are a big fan of [CS Lewis](%5C), then this story is not for you.)

(As this is a stand-alone work, it is not in the same universe as most of my stories.)

"Subdue Him"

The first thing Alasain, leader of the last crusade, felt was the pain in his head from the blow that had knocked him out. The lion felt he was lying on his back, and through his closed eyelids, he could tell it was far darker than the daylit battle field upon which he had engaged the Egoytains, and suffered a most honorable, but terrible, defeat. He expected, when he awoke, to be in the paradise he had been promised by the scriptures in which he believed for obeying the commands they held. But to his dismay, as he took in more of his surroundings, he knew it certainly wasn't paradise.

His back was laying on grassy ground beneath a stary sky, eclipsed by the smoke of a roaring bonfire before him, which made everything a sea of shadows. He was on the left end of a long row of his soliders, the first of several behind him. It consisted of those who had not fought to the death due to similar incapacitation. His ankles were bound to a long chain which he saw extended all the way down the line, around the ankles of all his comrades on the row; cats of every description. But causing the most anxiety of all, his troops and his body had been stripped of not only armor, but loin cloths.

He stared coldly at the sky, and prayed none would glace his way. But he soon had more pressing things to pray about.

"The Saint awakens," sarcastically annouced a harsh, cold, baratone voice from the camp of guards before him.

A rather tall wolf emerged from the commander's tent in a completely black tunic. The cloak combined with his grey and white face, grey hands, and dusty palms -- otherwise pink -- made him seem like a shadow in the faint, reddish light. His muzzle smiled mischeviously, revealing a tooth or two, to glimmer and match his green eyes.

"It seems the Emporer has seen fit not to cannonize you yet," smirked the wolf, sauntering quickly over to Alsain and addressing him directly, "most of your troops were not so lucky."

Alsain could only see one thing in his future: torture. "Do what you wish to me, heathen," the lion solemnly growled, looking straight back at him, "for the scripture says --"

"I don't care what it says!" barked the dog, "for you have no divine grace to speak of, so what does it matter."

Alsain gave a throatly laugh. "It is the Lord who shall judge us both in the end."

"Well that end hasn't come yet," he retorted smugly, "so instead, I would have you watch your troops change their beliefs before your eyes."

The wolf clapped his hands twice, and a scawny fox emerged from another tent. Facing the entire enchained audience, he began to read from a scroll. His voice was too nervous and high to convey authority, but he at least kept them quiet with a sharp tone.

"Noble Crusaders," he began, "you have only been imprisoned for your daring to attack the state of Egotia. While it is a crime which should normally be punished, the Archian Emporer, in his infinite wisdom, realizes you only performed this act of grevious harm because of your religion. For this reason, he wishes to explain to you his willingess to forgive, and his lack of hostility toward what you believe."

"He shall forgive you of all of your past crimes, if you shall do no more than lay down you arms, and pay your taxes. If you cannot lay down your arms, then solider for no Glory, but to protect the the Archian Peace. Whichever you chose, know that you may worship within the city as you please, so long as you let its other inhabitants do the same. As your scriptures say, 'give to the Emporer what is his, and give to the Lord what is His.' This is the chance he offers you."

The fox, rather nervously scurried off to the cluster of tents out of Alsain's view to the right.

"If you wish to live peacfully rather than die foolishly," the wolf continued, "then you need do no more than stand, and you shall be release with the Emporer's full forgiveness!"

Silence and stillness followed.

Alsain laughed again. "They live only to server the Lord, no pithy mortal rul--"

The wolf needed do nothing but smile as a cheetah near to Alsain rattled his chains -- fighting attempts to pull him down by his peers -- and stood. The nearest guard walked behind the row, ignoring several attempts to trip him, and unchained the former solider.

"Go in peace, my friend," complimented the wolf on his way by, enduring the glares of his fellow soliders.

That one freed the spirit of another, who freed two more, who freed five, who freed ten. The wolf congratulated the wisdom of each cat -- panther, tiger, cheetah, or lion -- on his way out to the supplies tent for clothes. But after those nearing two dozen, no more stirred.

"You see, Alasin," explained the wolf shrewdly with his rough tone, "they see the wisdom of working for the Lord in peace. They are willing to worship in their holy city, as they have wished to do for ages. And who wouldn't!?" he called to them again. "Fighting a peaceful paegan who gives you freedom to worship is wasted effort! Enter your city in peace!"

This addition got a total, one at a time, of another dozen.

"The Holy State shall rise again, I promise you!" snarled the lion.

But the wolf did not answer him. "That young fox you saw," he asked instead, "does he look familiar?"

The lion shook his head.

"He came from your very ranks, and told the General whom I serve how many of you there were and where!" gleefully taunted the wolf.

Alsain grit his teeth.

"What do you think he, and your own troops, could possibly see in living in your holiest of cities?"

"There is plenty to see, all of it sinful," parried Alsain.

The wolf looked agast for a moment, but his next words demonstrated it was nothing but a further mockery. "Sin? Oh the poor souls, living in sin. You really think they will renounce the Lord, just by living with -- paegans?" He made the voice aghast and exaggerated his motions and looks of horror, stretching his eyelids as wide as they would go.

"Horror of horrors! Isis and Venus will convert them all! It's all rubbish, and you know it," he laughed menacingly, dropping back to his cynical tone.

Alsain said nothing, so the wolf continued on.

"How many of you have worshipped an idol?" he shouted to the row of prisoners.

No one stirred.

"Of course not, for that is easy. But solidering surely is not compatible with lust. Tikal!" he called with two more claps of his large hands.

From the shadows of the leftmost tent, in strode a tall, thin cheatress who wore just as much as the prisoners, but from her attitude was unable to be chained. Her soft blue eyes met those of Alsain, and she purred with a gentle smile, coyly turning away from him just so she could hold up her tail and reveal what she was obviously offering.

Alsain did not react to her, knowing how to resist such temptations all to well, so she moved on down the line.

Before the cheetah next to him, she slowly girated, shifted, and convered herself with invisible cloth -- in the clever way which revealed herself.

"This," announced the wolf to the entire group, "is Tikal. She formerly worked at the temple of Bhaal, but now seeks only to teach only those who need a lesson in appreciating life. Under our rule, you shall be free to seek her out without penalty."

As she went down the row, strutting before each male, the chains unlocked like dominoes. Lions, tigers, panthers black and grey, all wearing looks of mild shame with large eyes chose to live the new life of promise that she held in store for them; three dozen in total. Enough chose that one of the rows was completly unlocked save two on opposing ends.

Seeing an opportunity, those two remaining tried to run in unison to escape. But an agile husky guard grabbed hold of the chain's middle, and made it fold around a tree, ending the situation in seconds. With the help of two more muscular dogs, the chains were then tied into the row before, having the links of the chain pounded together with tent steaks.

The wolf did not say a word about the attempt, instead repeating his praise of the freed prisoners for their wisdom. But from the looks in their eyes and the state of other parts of their anatomies, the soldiers obviously weren't thinking about the glory of the Lord -- or the Archian state, for that matter.

Alsain sighed, and demanded silently of his Lord how he could have chosen such weak warriors.

"I hope this is not too disappointing for you, commander," taunted the wolf. "You still say she should be stoned to death instead of appreciated?"

"All those loyal," Alsain insisted, looking back to the two dozen or so who remained chained. "are willing to die for the 'appreciation' of the Lord."

"Since we shall not kill you, you will die of starvation?"

"If we must," defiantly stated the lion.

The wolf smiled again. "Let's see how many of The Lord's Servants would agree with you. Have food sent," he instructed as the cheatress finished her dance and walked back into the commander's tent.

The food was brought by the same nervous fox: delicate fish, fresh bread, and rich wine. The mere sight of it made the lion hunger once again.

"I do believe that the wine is symbolic of blood, and the bread and fish is of some other great act," pointed out the wolf. "So, will you partake of the holy meal?"

Alsain ignored the words, for he was too focused on the fox. The anger of betryal and desire for vengance built until he suddenly clanked his shackles and roared, "traitor!"

The fox jumped, barely catching the tray which his hand had released, but losing the pitcher of wine. This got those who remained to laugh along with Alsain.

The wolf hastily took the tray from the fox, and with a slap on his back, sent him away. Resuming his composure, the wolf took the tray down the rows, waiving it in front of the nose of each.

"Can't you smell it?" he prowled, "the final supper. Live in peace, He said. Harm not your fellow creatures, He said." Almost more tauntingly than Tikal, he waved it in the nose of a tiger whose eyes were unable to pry themselves off the tray. To Alsain's dismay, he was brought down by a "'do this in remembrance of me.'" He grabbed two slices of the loaf, and slowly stood up.

"Go in peace, my friend," repeated the wolf as he personally unlocked the cat -- and put down the tray in front of a jaguar, who stood up after grabbing three pices of bread in his mouth.

But when none of the others seemed tempted, the wolf continued his rant. "You should be pleased, commander," mocked the wolf huskily, "for I have culled the weak from your army. They shall be happy living with us. You on the other hand seem far more reluctant to live in the Archian Peace."

"Live in a heathen city? Ha!" scoffed Alsain, certain his end was at hand. "No one can live in piety surrounded by such a monstruous multitude!"

"Many are just as pious as you, it looks to me."

"But their piety to idols means nothing!"

"And they would say your peity to an invisible ghost means nothing. You know, the Holy Ghost? Daemons are for bribing, not worshipping, they would say."

Such mockery was not something. Alsain could take lying down. "It is clear you should have been the first to fall beneath my sword!" he roared. "You're an -- an atmomist!!"

The wolf smiled, as if this were a compliment instead of an insult. "And I think I am better for it," he replied. "I've heard enough about justice after death. I'd rather have my justice in life. And so would you, surely," he added, "for why else did you go on this crusade?

"But none of that matters," he continued over Alasain's scowl, "what matters now is your fate."

"My fate," boldly stated the lion, "is not in your hands."

"Of course not," answerd the dog to Alsain's surprise, "it's in yours."

This made Alsain nervous, but he hid it well.

"Do you know the story of weighing the heart?" asked the wolf.

"Another paegan legend, no doubt," scoffed Alsain, still preparing himself for whatever torture the wolf would soon bring.

"The weight of your heart is compared to the weight of a feather on a divine scale," he expained with false reverence, "and only those who have been the most just, the most gentle, the most kind... and the least righteous and bull-headed can pass the test," he spat.

He walked into one of the tents, and returned with the parts of an apparatus: a funnel and a tube, with a small bulb on the end.

"And so, you are going to slice out my heart and weigh it?" causically asked the lion, closing his eyes to silently pray for courage in his immediate death.

"Nothing like that," replied the wolf as he walked back into the tent and out again with a large vessel, filled to the brim with clear water.

"You are going to drown me, then?" repeated the lion in an identical tone, trying to figure out what he should prepare himself for.

"I told you, it's not going to be anything like that."

The mystery made Alsain more nervous, even as in the back of his head, he wondered if this nervousness itself was the game.

"Why not just give me a quick death," he asked, failing to keep nervousness out of his voice, "and get it over with?"

"Because I do not kill or maim," answered the wolf, his tone of voice suddenly sharp and chatisizing. "It is my duty, given by the Emporer, to subdue you. I explained to him that kill you would cause more crusades not fewer, and so now, it is my duty to make you realize that running around marauding is not acceptable behavior."

"You would really rather do the bidding of your mortal Emperor when one so much greater than he awaits you in heaven?"

The wolf just sighed, more in exhaustion than irritation. "While I tire of your prostelatizing, I suppose I should consider it better than trying to escape."

This got Alsain very agitated, a fit of rage welling up within him, as he realized that this dog -- beyond redemption by his own admission -- would be the first to flee a battle, or to drown in a pool of blood beneath his sword.

"You deserve die!" he roared, shaking at his shackles like a wild beast held captive by a hunter seeking nothing but a trophy.

While startled, the wolf was unfazed. "I've heard enough war cries to last a lifetime," he growled, more with regret than anything. "And unless your Lord gives you the might of a hundred warriors to escape me, it's time to begin."

"Begin what!?" snapped the lion, feeling a sudden twinge of fear.

The wolf didn't answer, but returned with an hour glass. "Guards, bind him free of the others!" he barked.

Two rather muscular hyenas emerged from the shadows, pinned the lion on his stomach with great difficulty, and then locked his wrists together. Dodging bites and kicks with his remaining free limbs, then then bound his ankles to each other before releasing the longer chain.

"I will not submit!" Alsain roared, in as much fear as anger.

The two strong warriors dragged him over to the nearest tree, and hung his knees over a branch, adding a piece of rope to his ankle to keep him from jumping.

The wolf seemed occupied in assembling the apparatus, adding a layer of greasy fat around the bulb. He sauntered over and, after another soldier drove a spearhead into the tree above Alsain, hung the funnel from it, other end of the tube out of Alsain's sight.

Alsain took a deep breath, and prepared for whatever pain he was going to recieve, strugglilng to imagine how the dog could refuse to maim and still accomplish his goal.

"I seek nothing but the glory of the Lord," he said quietly, more to himself than the wolf, trying not to look at the most loyal soldiers he had -- those who could now see his naked form illuminated in the direct firelight.

"I know your kind," the wolf growled, "too righteous for the pleasures of this life, and fully prepared from your solidering around for its pains. That is why I shall inflict upon you a sensation so strange, neither pleasure nor pain, it will break you."

"There is nothing else," insisted the lion.

The wolf smiled with a glint in his eye, apparently waiting to hear this. "An itch," he answered. "Is it pain? No. Is it pleasure? Certainly not. But does it feel good to scratch it? Oh yes. I shall give you nothing but an irresistable itch, and if you scratch, then you confess to your Lord that you seek a plesure more forbidden than any shown so far."

Alsain took a deep breath. "I can resist any temptation," he growled, "for the divine grace hath shown upon me!"

The wolf, once again, ignored him. "Bring the hourglass!" he directed, and one of the hyenas brought it, holding it in front of Alsain's nose.

And then, the wolf started sliding the bulb into the lion's tailhole.

The lion found himself struck by a visceral terror the moment he was touched, one undeniably concrete and far more personal than any battle blow. "No," whispered the commander, struggling against his bonds.

He closed his eyes, wishing his soliders -- whose eyes he could feel upon him -- would just vanish. He prayed to be smitten by the Lord to avoid this. But neither happened, and his rectal muscles were unable to stop the instrument as it stretched him open.

"What's about to happen," growled the dog with sadistic excitement, "is a transformation. You are about to feel an itch awful and irrisistable, but you will have the opportunity to scratch it. It shall be the contention between your virtuous will, and your visceral frame. Let the weighing of the heart begin."

As the hyena turned the hourglass over, Alsain felt water running through the hose. It was like being thrown into a bath of cold water, inside out.

He yelled in surprise, squeezed his eyes shut, and held his muscles to no avail. "You do not call this torture?" Alsain whined in agony between clenched teeth, begging silently for the divine to release him.

"The shock will subside," soothed his tormentor. But in the mean time, the water kept coming, and the sand kept running. It wasn't until Alsain felt himself stop filling that the shock wore off.

And then, another sensation overtook it: the overwhelming and all-consuming urge to empty his bowels. His gut muscles were working beyond his conscious control to do what they were designed to do: move things in one direction. And as the sand ran through the glass, each grain seemed to be another fraction of an inch inside of him that tried to work against the bulb.

"Tell me," whispered the dog, somewhere above Alsain's closed eyes, clenched teeth, and wincing face, "do you enjoy your bowel movements?"

Alsain didn't answer; all the long marches he was forced to endure were what came to mind, for the sensation he was feeling, though dramatically magnified, was inescapably familiar. Instead, he chose to wallow in his agony without words, groaning and grunting instead.

As his insides drew all his attention, he did manage to ignore anyone else was watching him. As a quotation rather than a genuine question, he whispered, "why have you forsaken me?" He pressed reflexively, despite the fact it would do nothing. This only made his angst worse.

Alsain opened his eyes for a brief moment to stare at the hourglass: the sand had run only half way out. "Satan would never do this," panted the solider tears running down his forehead, "you are beyond him!"

"Unlike your Satan," the wolf gently reassured, "I will give you the opportunity to scratch shortly. I do hope you will enjoy it."

But only silence followed, only adding anxiety to angst as the lion endured the awful feelings inside of him. "When!?" Alsain roared ten seconds later.

"When you ask," whispered the dog compassionately, "and in so doing, accept that you would rather inflict pleasure and joy upon your fellow sinners than pain and fear."

"I kill only the unwashed," sobbed the soldier, more to the Lord than to the wolf.

"I have not seen you ask if the victim is paegan, atomist, or even like yourselves before you sloughter him," kindly pointed out the wolf, tone indicating he was trying to help Alsain.

"If I could get my city back through peace, I would," he whimpered, watching the sand dribble from bottom to top from his hanging position.

"But peace is not the opposite of war," corrected the wolf. "Peace is a state of mind. Peace is having neighbors. Helping each other, socializing, day after day -- and maybe they believe something else, but they work just as hard to make a living.

"King Madhi, who ruled this land before the Emporer took it over, wished to impose your holy book on all of us too. You would have loved him, but you would be the only one. When the Emperor promised us the ability to worship as we chose, his army marched into the city as heroes."

Finally, after a moment's silence, the last grains of sand ran out. "And so now I ask you," concluded the wolf, "to live peacefully with your neighbors. I am not asking for you to solider for the Pax Archana, only to believe in it."

The choice was transformative. It made Alsain realize that there was no satisfactory answer. However pious he was, no one else would see him as such after this. But before he could get any further, the dog reached behind him, and carefully removed the plug.

Alsain gripped his muscles shut to fill the void without thinking about it, just for enough time for the wolf to offer his final statement: "now, let your heart sink and drown for the glory of the Lord, or enjoy scratching your itch, and let others do the same."

Before he could make a conscious decision, his body made him press. With nothing resisting him, the filthy water, and whatever else the lion had eaten, sprayed out against the tree. Alsain groaned in relief, his guts finally doing what they were designed to do.

He didn't really care that the dog was watching, or even his former army, whom he knew would abandon him; he only had the mind space to feel the itch he now scratched. He tried to convince himself that the Lord would not begrudge him for this.

"There are many who believe in your Lord in this very city," the dog pointed out, as if reading his mind, "and they do not consider themselves to be sinners."

"But they are not soliders," grunted the lion, as he finished his second purge, simply wishing he would be forgiven for his weakness. "I would not have considered doing anything but crusading yesterday," he remarked as the dog unshackled him and took him down from the tree, sending him to a tent with a wash basin and new, paegan clothes.

"Like some of you, I believe anyone can be saved," replied the wolf gently, "welcome." Outside he heard a noise which was unmistakable: the sound of rising soliders and the unchaining of all those who remained.

The End.

(version 1.0)