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I step out onto lush, warm grass leaving the dull grey stone of the house and its cold shadow behind me.

Nature has been kind today, giving us a glorious autumn morning, with birdsong in the air, rabbits nibbling on the lawn in the distance and a wind that insists on playing with my mane it would all be so perfect but for the knot of anxiety writhing deep within me.

"He knows, he must do" I thought, panicked to myself, I was flustered but determined not to show it, I was a fine mare, a regal mare with an appearance to keep and the most important thing a mare can do to control her appearance is her walk, she needs a confident gait and us Hanoverians can do that with ease, so I strode across the neat grass head high, shoulders back, ears foreword prepared to take on all the world.

The first world I took on was the stone cottage, a short distance across the neat, well-kept grass of the main house, I unlatched the door and pushed it open, "hello, Victor" I called, empty, Victor Was not here. Of course we wasn't, why would he be? The Shire horse estate keeper would be out working the land.

Which meant I had to find him, I walk through the estate grounds and farmland, two legged horses busily working teams of their four legged cousins, ploughing and tilling, and cultivating the land In preparation for winter, on my way to the estates sheds and outbuildings I see Andy, a young gipsy cob, victors apprentice harnessing a shire mare ready for work. "Hello Andy, is Victor around?" I asked "In that field over there" he replies with a knowing grin pointing to the distance, I thank him and depart.

I find Victor behind the rains of Clive a Happy Clydesdale gelding pulling a chain harrow across a newly ploughed field.

Our estate happens to be in the north of England and because of our geography Clydesdales are our main working animal, further south, past Birmingham and the industrial Black Country, Shire's are the working horse of choice, like Victor they tend to be taller than Clydesdales, and posses a greater uniformity in body color, having fewer patches of white with feather starting above the knees instead of below. Yes Victor told me that, and yes he can tell straight away when we look for new horses, and no I cannot tell either, you're not alone.

Clive had always been a lovely horse, very willing and patient. Victor would often talk fondly of his gentle Clydesdale workmate.

Right now we were in the middle of nowhere, out of earshot from anyone else so I get straight to the point. "Victor, Cyril knows" "Beg your pardon?" Victor asked, his muzzle screwed up in a mixture of incredulity and, then, yes I could see it, his face falling now, resignation I must admit I felt the same way, we'd been keeping each other company on dark nights for so long. I always knew it was inevitable that someone would catch on, but that didn't make it any easier.

"He suspects" I corrected myself "he wants you to come to the autumn ball tonight" "Chloe" he put a hand up "I don't go to those things, you know that, I'm a working horse now, not a gentry horse, I don't meet and talk to people I have nothing in common with them. A pause "and I don't want Cyril wheeling me out to talk about where I came from for the approval of his guests" He had folded his arms across his chest now, Clive shifted his weight, causing the connecting chains clink musically, put his ears to the side and tipped his hoof up, the horse now bored with our conversation."I'm not going" Victor said decisively with a snort "Whatever he's going to say or do he can come to me"

I reached in and hugged the strong shire, he had no choice but to let me, I crane my muzzle up to his ear "please, for me my love, I will be there, no one's going to say boo to you, and I highly doubt Cyril is going to say or do anything at all, he has too much to lose and we have and appearance to maintain" I lean in nuzzling his cheek "Please, I really want you there too" I admitted "for me" I didn't want to be alone tonight, and later, I didn't even want to think about later and the four, that's my burden. As for Cyril, I couldn't even begin to think how I could look him in the eyes again, I really am a caught, trapped mare.

The answer fluttered in my mind "stuff him, he never touches you, invites wealthy lecherous creeps to have sex with you, while just watching, all the time his mind is firmly fixed on empire building. You haven't done anything any other mare in your position wouldn't have done, and there is nothing he can do to you" "Oh, there is so much he could do to me" I put the thought down, my internal monologue ending in precisely the fashion it always does, but It was true, my husband gives me the shivers, and recently more so than ever

I worked on Victor and only left him when I had secured a promise that he'd come tonight, I'd go round to his stone house later anyway to make sure the proud old shire looked his best, it takes a mares touch.

I spent the rest of the day preparing the main hall and meeting the new guests, no porcine's happily enough just a buck, and another bull, I wondered if they enjoyed each other's company in the same way Graham and Charlie did, I noticed something about the two of them, the way they were with each other, something I had noticed in the bull and donkey in our own little circle. Now that was a thought, certainly lighten my load tonight I imagine Barty the pig will want a turn as always, *shudder*.

Victor turned up on time and perfectly dressed for the occasion. I had watched him dress, sitting on the beaten up old furniture in his cottage. He's a beautiful stallion, his chestnut fur practically glowed in the dim light of the living room, and although he had just washed and it would be mostly hidden I insisted on combing his leg feather, combing through the glorious white and surprisingly coarse hairs going a long way in helping me forget my anxiety about tonight. He was enjoying it too, I looked up to see his wide, heavy sheath, fattening with four inches of doubled over black horse shaft peeking out, I wanted to, I so wanted to but I knew we'd never get going, so I finished combing pushing him away and giving him a slap on his rump for good measure, watching him walk away his full black tail swaying in step in front of those wide, wide drafty buttocks and just a glimpse of his testicles swinging between his... "Stop Chloe" I closed my eyes willing the temptation before them to disappear, I did the next best thing and handed him the clothes I'd picked out for him, when we'd finished I was quite pleased, he'd done all right for an agricultural old stallion but I still fussed with his mane and forelock anyway. A mare's touch...

Back at the house, the evening had gotten off to a slow start, no music yet, just food, wine and furs, all right, horses mostly milling around talking in little groups, there was some laughter but mostly over the shoulder looking was the main activity going on tonight, the larger houses of the border regions are very cliquey, untrusting of neighboring estates, and much less fond of breaking convention by speaking to furs that they perceived to be higher or lower than themselves, and at gatherings like this old habits die hard.

I had been talking, I use the term talking very loosely, listening was more accurate, to the Durant sisters from the Rothbury estate, they had traveled a long way to be here tonight and in truth I found their company to be quite pleasant, far less grating than some of our other guests. Many of the patriarchal mares can be... overbearing and I find that their catty and often spiteful talk bores me.

It was all just, simmering away nicely, if the evening could hurry up and end it would bring my sordid duties closer, but the old shire stallion would be out of here and out of harm's way.

Oh no, I hadn't checked over my shoulder, so engrossed was I in the tales of the friendly mares, I had failed to notice when Batrum the pig, had snagged Victor, I had been keeping a discrete eye on him all evening, "typical" I thought to myself desperately untangling myself from my conversation with the sisters, skillfully slipping, "Bump" into the pig, immediately getting his attention. "Bartram Singer, it's so good to see you" I beamed, bringing the pig's attention fully to me "We never had the opportunity to talk properly yesterday, tell me how are things in the north boarders? Did you have a good harvest?" I'm a mare that really knows what she's doing sometimes. Victor had relief written all over his muzzle. But that lasted for all of three minutes, when Cyril arrived at my side, "Oh shi.." I thought to myself "Ahh Barty, I see you've met Victor my head estate keeper, Do you know that I hold this stallion in the highest esteem?"

Victor immediately became uncomfortable but held Cyril's gaze regardless. "You may hold me in high regard Cyril but I only do what needs to be done when it needs to be done, managing an estate is just a matter of timing" Victor turned now addressing the pig casually, finding confidence in his own easy words "If you get spring right, the rest of the year follows" Victor knew Barty's estate had had a slightly disastrous harvest, they had left it too late to gather in the wheat and the rains blew in. The clever old horse was rubbing it in quite nicely I thought, I hope he didn't push it too far though, thinking of later, I don't like Barty's long trotters, and the pig can be a bit of a scratcher when he's agitated.

"Oh come now, Victor, you do it so well my friend" Cyril cooed, voice dripping like honey "Wheat and barley sewn on the right day of spring, then tended to and harvested with diligence and precision, not forgetting the root vegetables or the beet for feed of course. Nor the hay and silage for the horses that work so hard for us, no my friend, nobody hungers for food while you are around. Quite an achievement I think" Cyril said looking around us for support while rubbing the smiling stallions arm.

Let's not forget it was not your true calling in life" Cyril continued, Victor looked sharply at Cyril, then down at the ground, wanting to fight and to hide simultaneously. "Oh really?" the pig piped up, the beginnings of a smile curling below his snout.

"Uh oh" I thought to myself, I not liking where this was going,

"Tell this old Boar what you did before, what was your true calling master shire" the pig boomed, I looked around going red on Victor's behalf. The stallion looked at the pig, then at Cyril, and then away, through them, past them his gaze going distant. I wanted more than anything in the world to intervene, fight Victors corner, bite the pigs head off, bite Cyril's head off it was none of their business, none whatsoever. More than anything I wanted to embrace my old shire horse, to draw him into me and comfort him. But I could do none of those things, this was a test I suddenly realized, this was a test and I was powerless to intervene, if I did I would fail, WE would fail.

Cyril grinned momentarily before leaning in, quietly, but loudly enough for the rest of us to here "Victor my friend, I'm aware that you have become unaccustomed to these sorts of gatherings over time but you really must keep your eyes from wandering, all of the mares in here are taken, it does not do to let yourself be distracted by them" Victor snorted violently at that but stayed where he was, ears back against his skull before he caught himself and returned them to a less confrontational position.

My husband put a friendly hand on his shoulder, I wanted to bite it. "Don't worry Victor I will tell your story for you, my old friend" before Victor could object. "Victor is the last stallion from a great house, the Cobbold's of Somerset, well they were a great house" "I have heard that name" the pig interjected "Yes I well Imagine have, before the turn of the century they were one of the most prosperous families of shire horses in the country, and the most powerful household in the southwest unusually nearly all of them were chestnut's like old Victor here, they were excellent farmers and hard workers" "prey tell me" the pig addressing Cyril now, "why are they not great anymore"

"Ah, excellent question" Cyril responded, struggling to keep the mirth from his voice "They were no mere farmers and traders, although very good at it, no when a new generation took their reins so to speak the, Cobbolds began dealing in great many things, smuggled goods, forged paperwork, whores" That drew another indignant snort, this time the ears stayed back longer "The blackest of magic's and wolves, They were well known for dealings with the outcasts of the wilderness, it' was at their word that many a dissenting fur would disappeared in the night" they reigned terror from bath to Bristol, becoming ever more ruthless and brutal"

"But of course all great and corrupt dynasty's must come to an end, Shadworth house now lies empty and ruined, I'm told that the maundering bands of scavengers even refuse to go there"

"And Victor is one of the few remaining members of that once great and infamous house aren't you" Cyril, nodded over to the slowly seething stallion before continuing "He came to my father as a colt, He would never tell me why he employed his services, he took your story to his death bed" He said looking to the motionless shire admiring his handiwork, "No chance of Victor telling either, you go very quiet about your past don't you"

"If you ask me the family tore itself apart, and he was cast out for a lack of loyalty to his wicked brothers and sisters" he looked over at Victor, standing stoically still, a tear filling his hazel eye. "but that's more conjecture on my part and once again my talented estate head won't say a word" Cyril bowed out of the conversation unchallenged He'd done his damage, first cutting poor Victor off at the knees, then dissecting his painful past with, well not a pig you'd want your personal business known to.

Barty soon made his excuses and left too, milling around the busy room full of merry furs having fun, not us though.

"Why didn't you stop him, I know more than half of that isn't true" I asked looking into his brown shire eyes, "Chloe" he just looked back at me, that tear had grown, "more of it is true than is not" he spoke, trying to hide the shake in his voice. "I'm sorry about Cyril " I reached up brushing the tear away feeling the wetness spread into the fur of my finger, "Don't be, he won't get to me" he whispered gently into my ear, his voice to straining a little, trying to keep the shudders away, but it was clear that he already had.

I did hug Victor then, I thought, he'd implode if I didn't. I felt another tear fall into my head fur I rubbed his neck reassuringly, it was the only thing I could do the cruel and clever thoroughbred that was my husband had brought the proud shire to this... We drifted away too, people would look, gossip, I didn't care anymore I wasn't going to leave my Victor alone tonight.

The rest of the evening ticked by slowly, we drank wine, tried to laugh at other furs jokes and anecdotes, thought of some of our own, drunk more wine, told even worse jokes, the both of us trying to forget earlier, and I was trying to forget about later.

Later rolled around all too quickly though and as we left the gathering Cyril, caught my arm, he had been waiting behind the door "Chloe, it is time to entertain our important guests" he beamed, "And Victor" he turned his smile to the chestnut shire "my old friend, It would be so delightful if you were to join us, the hooved four would very much enjoy your company"

Victor shot a glance to me quickly, before straightening and nodding slightly "It would be my pleasure Cyril, my poorly informed friend" Cyril looked at him then "my dear friend if you will be so secretive in company then the truth will always suffer" we began walking in silence, then "Tell me, how does a fine mare's nether's like hers compare to those weather-beaten old hands of yours Victor?" "If you yourself knew, then you wouldn't be asking a weathered old horse like me" Victor said evenly "Alright, alright" Cyril put his hands up in good humoured show of mock defeat, before cocking his muzzle thoughtfully "clearly not as good as good as Andy's tail hole then"

I looked at the shire walking just ahead of me, head up, not breaking stride, choosing not to bite on that one "good horse" I thought to myself. But I still hate it, this was light conversation to my husband, he always had been a deep cutter when he got going, well at least he wouldn't have the chance, and the room where our "Highly esteemed company" would be waiting for us was not far away, and I dreaded every step. I can handle myself with them, no problem, but what would they make of Victor, what would he do? Watch the syndicate take me, one by one, would they take him, would he refuse. Too late, the door was in front of us now.

Cyril gave a gentle knock, opened it and ushered me in with a sweeping gesture of his arm "Go in Victor, they're waiting for the mysterious Shire stallion" I heard Cyril's patronizing tone behind me. Enough was enough I turned snap at my husband.

Suddenly I felt pain in my head, and the world turned to black.

****

I became dimly aware of light, gradually, then sound, then smell, the smell hit me, the room reeked of male, seed sweat and. Iron, iron? Oh no. I snapped up pain exploding thought my head again turning my vision to a blur, I fought through it and when it cleared I could see Victor In front of me, tied naked to a wooden chair. "It's good to see you're awake my dear" I searched with my eyes and ears for the voice, there he is, sitting in the corner again, just like always, whiskey in hand. "Don't worry my love just a bump on the head, I know how to look after my guests" My hands are asleep, I can't feel them, they are stretched behind my back, there's no slack in the bonds, my bones aching and muscles burning, I try moving them but they are "tied yes" Cyril finishes my thought for me.

"Well Victor, at least you don't have to worry about entertaining our other guests, they are... well they're indisposed" Cyril waved a hand casually beyond me. I turned in the armchair I had been put in, and stifled a horrified whinny.

There lying in a heap behind me were Graham the donkey, Charlie the bull, and "oh no, no" Timothy, lovely timothy his beautiful golden muzzle lying lifeless on the carpet, a long gash in his neck still leaking blood slowly. Graham and Charlie lying in each other's arms matching gashes apparent in their proud necks.

"I put them like that actually" Cyril offered, answering my thought "they seemed to enjoy each other so much that I rather like the thought of them resting with one another his way" Now it's just the three of us, and what I will say, is that this is nothing personal" "Do you know that I've known for years?" he asked matter of factly "I actually feel I owe you some debt of gratitude my old friend" Cyril continued "it is only because of you that things have been able to continue in the same way for so long, you bring... stability" He leaned In close "and I wish to thank you for that"

And with that my husband touched Victors sheath and began gently kneading the fleshy black pocket of flesh "I..." Victor started before Cyril put a hand to his lips "shush" slipping his fingers inside the chestnut shire's fat sheath. "I've wanted this for the longest of times" he breathed his muzzle inches away from one of Victor's mobile ears.

Victor squirmed, uncomfortable at the touch, and I might well imagine, by the thought of who was touching him, it is very hard to relax with a murderer molesting you. But He couldn't hide forever and Cyril's strangely practiced movements seemed to be having an effect on the big shire.

His, beautiful black and pink splotched cock poured out from his sheath pushing Cyril's fingers out along with it beginning to rapidly unfold from itself. Cyril took the soft floppy organ in his hands and gave it a squeeze looking the stallion in the eyes.

Victor looked shamed and scared and defiant all at the same time but let out a nicker when Cyril cupped the broad head with his hand.

What Cyril did next surprised me, he bent down and took the whole shaft into his muzzle, almost sheathing the brown horse. Clearly I didn't know my husband as well as I thought I had.

I could see Victor's eyes glaze over, his equine urges taking control, hips lifting off the chair as much as his bindings would allow, it wouldn't take long, as horrified as I was with the situation I was fascinated, and couldn't help wondering if Cyril would bring the shire to climax or pull off just in time, by the way Victor was grunting and thrusting the former was looking more probable.

Cyril was grunting too, going slightly red, I could tell he was trying hard, but drool and pre was leaking gratuitously from his muzzle onto Victors black testicles coating them, glinting in the light of the oil lamps. This really was taking some effort from him.

It wasn't long before I received my answer, with a rasping whinny and a shudder Victor thrust into Cyril's maw, grinding his teeth loudly in throes of his climax, I could tell he was unloading because his testicles had lept in their sac, but more so because of Cyril's choking and spluttering, he tried to keep his muzzle on the mighty draft penis but the first jets of Victors cum had caught the back of Cyril's throat, making him gag, a river of horsey slime and cum escaping his lips to join the rest of the greasy slobber and sex coating the stallions huge orbs, pooling on the chair around the stallion globes and dripping to the floor.

He pulled off the still twitching organ licking the rest of the mess off, before letting the shaft flop flaccid against Victor's belly, then he got up and strolled over to me, a drunken grin plastered across his muzzle matching his swagger. "Well that answers a few questions" was all I could think to say, "Like I said my dear I hold no grudge, you enjoy his company because mine is not forthcoming" He said matter of factly, "and who was your company forthcoming with?" I wondered aloud Cyril then looked over to the corpses in the corner answering my question in part. "Timothy was a talented stallion, was he not my dear" I followed his gaze "Why did he have to die Cyril" I asked the feeling of aggrievement suddenly flooding back, anger and sadness welling up inside me.

"the country's changing Chloe" Cyril began, starting to undo his tie as he explained "We cannot rely on the syndicate any more, we must protect this region, we can only do that by controlling it" "So you murdered them to gain control over their lands" I spat the words, this was unnecessary, abhorrent, horses do not kill each other, it was an unwritten law, something as old as the revolution itself. No older, much older. We may kick, nip and bite and work the many into the ground for the benefit of the few. But we never kill, not each other.

"Look" Cyril, began impatiently "they don't want what we want, They weren't prepared to go as far as we are, and they're going to stand in our way" He slipped his trousers off of his hooves, folding them over his arm and walking to the sideboard, his shirt came off too. Placing his clothes down he picked up two things "well not any more they won't, I will do the right thing, I will make this region great, and I will make our house strong respected and feared" he spoke to the wall, not looking at either of us.

I shot a look in Victor's direction, he was with it, cock still lying on belly, forgotten, his head and ears following the drunk and unhinged stallion.

Cyril turned then, a full glass of the whiskey he loved so much in one hoof tipped hand, and, I gasped a dagger in the other. A long evil looking blade, it had, yes it had blood on the blade.

Cyril approached the bound shire once more blade and drink in hand, I could see Victor now testing his bonds with urgency, too tight. Too late, Cyril was there now, In front of him, he jumped into the his horse's lap lifting his left hand, bringing the glass to the shire's lips, emptying more than three quarters of the glass into the stallion, before bringing it to his own lips, finishing the golden liquid, placing the empty glass, and more significantly for me, the knife on the floor next to the chair.

Sitting in the shire's big lap, he leaned in grabbing Victors muzzle kissing him roughly, he'd held some of the liquor in his maw, now it spilled messily from the union between their lips. He reached passed his own sheathed cock to Victor's flaccid one head still lying on his chest, quickly and roughly he brought it to firmness with his hand, then stood, their muzzles coming apart. Victor looked passed the body of my husband to me, desperate look upon his muzzle. I tried to nod reassuringly but I was not a fortress of calmness myself, I knew Victor, the act wouldn't bother him in the slightest, it was what was obviously to follow that was making him flap. And the helpless mare that I was, tied up, all I could do was watch it unfold, I tried picking the knots that bound me, but my hands had gone numb, I couldn't make the fingers work properly.

Meanwhile, Cyril, had brought Victors flared and dripping head to his tail hole and was busy grinding the leaking tip against his anus and along his taint, squeezing and stroking the shaft in his hand. I could see he had dropped himself, his flaccid penis hanging between his thinner legs. An erotic sight it would have been in any other circumstance, tonight though all I wanted to do was to pull my husband off, and protect the lovely shire, he had asked for none of this, but I couldn't, I'm a useless, useless mare.

He lined the head up and dropped slightly, more and more, until with a grunt, from both stallions it popped in, the head and a few inches of mottled stallion shaft, thick inside my husband's anus, he waited a second before squatting a little more, allowing a few more thick inches inside, groaning, loudly "Ohh I knew this would hurt, but I've been waiting for this moment my whole life Victor" he smiled into the older stallions eyes. "I knew the moment I saw you that I had to have you" Cyril groaned, the burning pain in his passage clearly audible in his hushed voice. He eased down a little more, then more, and more, slowly, until he reached the shire's median ring, normally It's three quarters down the length of most stallions, but stallions are all different and with Victor when you get to that raised ring of flesh you're only half way down, with much greater thickness south of the boarder to look forward to.

Cyril pulled upwards then, I will never, ever forget the sight of his thick black anus following some inches behind his butt up the shire's thick cock. He pulled all the way to the top the skin around the donut taut, paused, then drove back down, with more and more confidence each time, again and again, licking his hand and wrapping it around victor's median ring, driving the stallion wild. In time he popped that in too, working lower and lower. His sliding becoming less and less, concentrating instead on getting to the bottom of that splotchy colored shaft. I had to give it to him, Victor becomes dramatically wider the closer you came to his sheath, I'm not sure I'd want to wrap my tail hole around that, it's thicker than my arm.

Amazingly he reached the sheath, panting, snorting, and whimpering, he paused momentarily, foamy sweat dripping off him into the shire's own coat. "I'm am going to do this" he rasped out "I've waited for this for so long, so, so long..." he trailed off,

"I never knew" Victor said softly, surprising me, it was the first thing he'd said since the ordeal had begun "of course you didn't know, no one knew, no one knows anything they don't need to. If people know things, then they suddenly start calling the shots" he growled with what anger he could muster, but softened quickly "you only know what you have to my old friend, I kept you safe for years that way, I kept everybody safe" he leant in nuzzling the shires thick neck.

Cyril began grinding gently, drawing a whicker from the bound stallion beneath him, quickly working up the energy to rut the gigantic shaft once more, differently this time, only raising a few inches letting the thick veins and rougher shape of the base grind against his sweet spot, Victor assisting, actively thrusting into his tight sore looking hole. Cyril actually raised up a little and allowed Victor the room to thrust, letting the shire stallion do the work, grunting and snorting his impending climax.

Cyril whinnied first, I could see his first globs of stallion cum shoot through the air above the rutting pair, Victor wasn't far behind, grinding the thickest part of his cock into the ecstatic stallion above, sheath meeting his rump with every thrust, his huge balls sucking up towards his sheath, before nickering himself and going very still. Vast quantities of thick stallion seed forcing its way into Cyril's much enlarged back passage. The smaller thoroughbred collapsed over the shire, lying against his chest in a sticky, sweaty tired mess.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, both muzzles sucking air into heaving chests, but it wasn't long before I could see Cyril's hand reach to the floor, searching the carpet for that dagger.

Victor, oh no, Victor was lying unaware, anesthetized in post orgasmic bliss. "Victor" I screamed, his eyes snapped open, his shaft still buried inside the stallion. The same stallion that was about to kill him, "I'm sorry my old friend but I can protect you no longer, this is how it ends"

I watched in horror as Victor's eyes followed the path of the knife toward his neck, instinctively cowering back into the chair. Suddenly a blur crossed my path. It was Barty the pig, he drew his arm across quickly between the two, then pulled Cyril right off of victors lap, the shire's soft penis stretching, moving with Cyril, before popping free, thick seed dripping to the floor.

The pig, laid Cyril on the floor, facing up, it was only then that I saw my husband gasping and retching clutching at his throat, Barty had cut it. Cyril writhed, loosing blood at an alarming rate, turning the carpet underneath him red forever. I looked at him catching his gaze, expecting something, something for me, a message, a reason for this madness, anything, but they told me nothing, and then he was still.

I snapped my attention back to the pig, who had gone behind Victor in his chair, he was a threat now with the knife in hand, I mouthed a "nooo" but Barty, lowered the knife anyway and suddenly the ropes binging Victor went slack, he, pulled them off, not staying to help the stallion up he rushed over to me. Doing the same for me.

He did then look into my eyes, but looked away again, unable to hold my gaze. He shook his head "I thought it was... oh, he motioned over to the pile of bodies on the far side of the room, but I couldn't let this happen"

"How long have you been here" I asked

"Just after he...mounted your mate" he said a little awkwardly, looking in Victor's direction.

my mate, the words surprised me, they had a truth to them though.

He walked over to Victor then, helping the stallion out of the seat. "I have heard of your family before, Master Shire. He said, grabbing his clothes from the side handing them to him, before fixing his gaze with his own porcine eyes "you may not understand me, but I well understand you, and you have nothing to be ashamed of stallion"

"Chloe, I am sorry too, but for different reasons" he picked up Cyril's dagger, the blade thick as well as long, he walked over to a mahogany cabinet, viciously jabbing the knife into the gap between the two doors, jiggling and lifting the lock, before pushing the knife away from him, flat against one panel and with a splintering crack the wood relented, bursting open, shards flying everywhere.

"My mate?" I just had to ask, "it was obvious from the moment I met the two of you together earlier" while Cyril was busy telling half-truths I was watching you Chloe, horse faces tell all" he spoke with his back towards me, reaching around inside the broken cabinet.

"Right" the pig turned round, having found what he was looking for "You two have to leave here now, right now, with this" he handed me a heavy, leather bound folder. "What is it?" I asked. "Everything" the pig replied, "Information about the syndicate, assets, property, activities and future plans" it would take too long to tell you, just know that it is everything. You must guard it with your lives, it means leverage, security and safe passage in the short term, show it to the right furs and it means change, forever. He paused "It also means death" the pig looked between Victor and myself, "There are many furs that would not benefit from the contents of this dossier, if they know you have it then you will be killed for it"

The pig spoke the words evenly and seriously.

"When you leave this room go and gather everything you need for a long trip, you are leaving tonight and you will never be returning. The militia, your militia, the ones who worked for you, will be hunting for you soon, and if they catch you they will kill you, family connection or not" Batry looked me in the eyes then tapping the folder. "Never let this out of your sight, and be very careful who you show it to"

"Where do we go?" I asked. Barty took a breath then looked Victor square in the eye, "he knows" "Go back to your house horse, there is still something there, I know because I have seen it, not more than a few of winters ago, go back and make it great again"

"Won't you come" I asked, The pig grunted then, violently shaking his head agitated "no, no I will take care of this mess here, it should buy you some time, but then I need to disappear too" "good luck horses, now go"