Lost Chapter 1: Decoy

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Aiee!! Here is the fabled LOST CHAPTER of the Ameni Chronicles! Dum-dum-dummmm! All right, actually, it's not so much lost as completely new. Why isn't this simply labeled Part 17 and so on and so forth? The deal is: When I originally wrote the Chronicles, the character of General T'uris--as well as some of the other characters who have shown up in the rewrite--never once appeared in the story. He was only spoken of by other characters, and the entire scenario involving his ousting from the East Tribe was referred to only in passing--the plans leading up to the coup were shown, and then bam, all of a sudden, Mahakhi was general and was making it with another female, and T'uris was gone. Oh, and Captain Nehekhi's general (who had never even been named or given a reason for being ousted, much less appeared in the story even once) was gone as well, and the two tribes--plus a third, unnamed tribe--had combined into one. That's right--the entire coup was never once depicted. Which could very well leave an average reader thinking, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!

Well, seeing as the rewrite became so extensive that General T'uris (and Nehekhi's general Djiu) was at last introduced into the story, I could no longer leave the Chronicles as is. And the chapters are becoming so long apiece that I could not hope to cram an entire military coup into either Part 16 OR Part 17 (no matter how lame and paltry Part 17 may now be...*coughI'mworkingonitcough*). AND, I am so anal that the mere thought of simply re-numbering all the subsequent parts to reflect the addition of a new chapter makes me shudder. *shudder* And SO...at least for now, this here will be the fabled Lost Chapter 1--the first "lost chapter" of the Ameni Chronicles, chronicling the ousting of General T'uris of the East Tribe.

And wouldn't you know it, I really DID intend this to be the only lost chapter in this part of the story...but it too has run long (oh the irony!), so stay tuned for ANOTHER lost chapter detailing the ousting of General Djiu of the Red Tribe! Dum-dum-dummmmmm!

CAPTAIN MAHAKHI STOOD in his war room, staring back at the seeming sea of faces which stared at him first. He frowned so hard he nearly scowled, and his nostrils flared. Lieutenants Nehef and Ahai'ikh stood nearby, wringing their hands.

Mahakhi turned to give them a dark look. "This is some kind of prank? I would leave it to you to pull a prank of this magnitude?"

He phrased it as a question, and they sensed his confusion. Before they could think of what to say one of the captains gathered in the war room stood and placed his arm to his chest, bowing his head toward Mahakhi.

"It is not a prank, nor a joke, Captain. Just this morn I have gone and gathered all the men under my personal command and they await your plans at my household, should you need them."

"I have done the same," came another voice.

"And I," said a few more voices. Most of the Kana in the room were captains--the members of the grand tribunal, no less--but there were some lieutenants in higher standing present as well, Nehef and Ahai'ikh among them. When Mahakhi looked at them again they saluted.

"We will serve you more faithfully than we have ever served T'uris, Lord. All you need do is say the word, and near most the entire tribe is at your disposal."

Mahakhi's nostrils flared again and he flicked one ear. "What sort of madness is this? One hour I am spending the night with my mates, and the next everyone suddenly wishes me to be general? Perhaps it would have been best if you had included me at this little meeting of yours!"

"We knew you might object, Lord," Ahai'ikh said. "But if you knew of who would be backing you..."

Mahakhi turned to the captains. "And you, Ahen. You have always had the most level head. You take part in this, as well--?"

Ahen's face remained neutral. "I do not enjoy the thought of a coup," he replied. "Yet with the tribe starving, and the men growing ever more restless, perhaps it is at last time for a change."

At last a flicker of uncertainty made its way to Mahakhi's face. Nehef stepped forward and spoke before it could disappear.

"We do not exaggerate, Lord. Just lately have we discovered the state of General T'uris's Moru quarters. They are all dead. They have been dead for a long time."

"What?" The word came out sharply and Mahakhi's head snapped to the side to look at him. "What do you mean, dead--?"

Nehef saluted. "It is exactly as we say, Lord. His Moru...every last one in the quarters...are dead. Only their corpses remain. He ordered them locked in and to remain unattended for weeks. It was only by accident that they were discovered. The stench of them filled the air. They had tried to escape."

Mahakhi stared at him, ears flaring. His eyes shifted to look at Ahai'ikh and the other lieutenant saluted as well.

"It is true, Lord."

"Lord Hiath'ikh has been supervising the Moru market," Nehef added. "Making certain that none purchase too many at a time. This is why he has been so busy lately. There have been no raids, thus no new Moru; the market is dwindling and the men are growing restless. Hiath'ikh himself has not eaten properly in weeks, as though starving himself will help the tribe much."

"Lords Djuta and Resikh, and ourselves, have been staging small raids against rogue bands outside the gates and lawbreakers within the city," Ahai'ikh said. "Under no order of General T'uris--but without these actions the army would have rioted by now. They sit about and have nothing left to do."

"And what would you have me do?" Mahakhi asked gruffly. The two lieutenants saluted him, and he turned to look at the others, who followed the gesture. He scowled.

"You have no idea how I would serve you as general!"

"The mere fact that we have all agreed not to fight for the position should attest to your standing here," Ahen said.

Mahakhi's uncertain look returned. "None will fight...?" His stare wandered across the room, but no one spoke up. He bit the inside of his mouth, then flared his wings and stood upright.

"What of T'uris, then? You forget about his own men. They are no small matter. Many of them I trained myself!"

"Many of them have already sided with us," Ahen answered him. "And those who have not are but a small number. Your men and all of our men may easily best them. The fight is practically negligible. Should you only use the element of surprise, it may be accomplished with the least bloodshed possible for a coup."

Nehef made a face and whispered something to Ahai'ikh that sounded like, "...spoil all our fun." But the look on Mahakhi's face had changed again, and he fiddled with one lappet thoughtfully.

"You are all in agreement on this...?" he asked, peering at them with a frown. The rest of the Kana nodded solemnly. Mahakhi fiddled with his lappet a bit more before letting it drop and standing upright again. He lifted his head high and snorted, spreading his wings.

"Well then...if this is what you request unanimously, and if General T'uris is indeed such a threat--I have no choice but to serve the East Tribe first, and him only second."

"Ask nearly any Kana on the street, Lord," Nehef said. "They will agree that our tribe is in danger."

"Remember those robber dogs!" Ahai'ikh exclaimed, on a whim; Nehef looked at him but he merely saluted Mahakhi. "T'uris is the one who set them free time and again, before we took care of them!"

The captain's eyes immediately grew dark and his muzzle wrinkled. The lieutenants thought of how he must be remembering Nehekhi's Moru; Mahakhi abruptly turned to the door of his war room and stalked toward it.

"Call the rest of my men and gather them here. The rest of you, return to your own homes. You have already made yourselves look too suspicious." The words were criticizing, yet the captains rose and filed from the room, their mouths twitching; already Mahakhi was thinking like a general. "You two!" he barked at Nehef and Ahai'ikh, who saluted once more. "Dig up Resikh and Djuta, wherever you may find them, and call them here. And then return to T'uris's household before you are missed. Do what you need to do. Once I am done with my men, I will then decide what is to be done about this threat."

* * * * *

A much smaller group gathered at the noon hour the next day, setting up small tables upon the roof of Mahakhi's house, ostensibly to enjoy a simple lunch, yet their actual purpose for remaining out of earshot of any Kana on the street below was much more serious. Mahakhi sat at the head table, gnawing on a piece of meat while the lieutenants murmured at each other. He looked the five of them over before spitting out a sliver of bone.

"Well, you five are the ones who seem to do most of the talking and plotting behind others' backs around here!" he said at last, catching their attention. "So you have had some time to have a look around. Fill me in so I am not so clueless as I have been so far." Nehef stood and saluted; Mahakhi made a face and waved him to sit back down. "We are at lunch, not a war party!"

"Apologies, Lord. Ahai'ikh and I have been asking about at Lord T'uris's house. From what we have been able to gather, word of the Moru's deaths has reached most of the household by now. There are only a very few Kana who do not seem to side with being rid of him, and even they are hesitant to admit he should stay. As callous as it sounds, the Moru's situation seems to have worked in our favor. His popularity has never been so low, not even when those robber dogs were still panting about."

"It seems much the same elsewhere," Resikh added. "We spoke discreetly in the taverns, and the only ones who still side with the general--even after hearing of the Moru--are those few he helped make rich himself."

"And their fat days are growing considerably thinner as of late," Djuta said.

"Part of the merchant class still sides with him as he is the one who made their coffers grow," Hiath'ikh stated. "Yet their underlings and even their guards are grumbling now that the wealth has not spread their way. A few of them even stated outright that they would like to see Lord T'uris go--they were not in the least afraid to say it to my face."

"As much as I hate that old cur," Mahakhi muttered, "I do not like the thought of having to kill him. I trained under Lord T'uris, when he still had his wits about him, and he was no weakling."

"Perhaps he need not be killed," Hiath'ikh suggested. "He could be drugged, for example--"

Djuta started to raise his hand. "What sort of silly female idea is that!" Nehef snapped. "Drug him, and then what? Toss him off the wall? Or lop off his head as he is sleeping--?" He paused. "I do not think I mind that last idea so much as I thought..."

Mahakhi bared his teeth. "I will hardly stoop to drugging my opponent just to win over him! This is a Moru's way of doing things! If this is your idea of planning, you'd best think of something else!"

"This does not bring up the fact that he is barricaded in his library and he has been like this for ages," Nehef said wearily. "We tried everything to draw him out and aside from him opening his door to take in his meals, he just will not come out! We could set a fire at the door and he would stay inside!" He paused again and rubbed his chin. "Actually, I think I do not mind that idea, either..."

"The house is of mudbrick," Resikh said with a dirty look. Nehef shrugged. Djuta suddenly stood up and bowed to Mahakhi, who glanced up at him.

"Lord Djuta? Perhaps you have a better suggestion?"

"For fighting Lord T'uris, no," Djuta said. "I will leave this decision up to Lord Mahakhi."

Mahakhi's ear twitched but he nodded. "What then is this idea you have?"

"I took the chance earlier this morning to see if I could find a way of gaining access to Lord T'uris's library," Djuta replied; Ahai'ikh's and Nehef's mouths dropped open in unison. "There is no secret passageway to this particular room--at least, none anyone but the general knows of."

"We could have told you that!" Nehef exclaimed.

Mahakhi waved him to be silent. "So I decided to speak with some of the underlings in the household themselves," Djuta went on. "They had--"

"But--we did this!" Ahai'ikh interrupted. "We just told you what they had to say!"

Djuta glanced down at him. "Yes, but you did not ask them all the right questions."

Nehef bolted to his feet, clenching his fists. "What right questions--?"

Mahakhi snarled. "Quiet down! Let him speak already, THEN you may soothe your own egos!" He glared at Djuta. "I hope this little tale has a point to it, sometime soon--?"

Djuta bowed again. "What I asked was if any of the Kana working within the household knew of any means by which Lord T'uris would ever leave his library voluntarily, and in due haste. They did not know about the haste but I did receive some interesting suggestions from the former guards of the Moru quarters, and from his chief physician."

The others merely looked puzzled. "His Moru guards and his physician?" Mahakhi echoed. "What could these two possibly have in common...?"

"The fact that together, they know a way to convince Lord T'uris to leave his library for at least a short while," Djuta said. "And to thus leave his barricade." He sat down again and tucked his legs beneath himself. "I got to speaking with the guards about the deaths of the Moru, and they muttered about this much. They are as displeased as the rest of us. When I asked if they were surprised that the general would abandon his mates and pups, they expressed resentment, but not much shock. Apparently, aside from his Kana sons, Lord T'uris was never very fond of many of his Moru. They simply did not appeal to him."

"Well, at least it is hardly a loss for him then," Nehef sniped. Mahakhi gave him a dangerous look and he meekly fell silent.

"I hope your tale gains its point sometime soon," Mahakhi added, to Djuta.

Djuta tilted his head. "It turns out that General T'uris likes a particular type of Moru, one which he was not fortunate enough to have in his possession. He tends to prefer females with wings."

Everyone blinked. "He let them all die because none of the women had wings--?" Resikh blurted out, but Hiath'ikh was sitting forward now, waving his hand.

"I believe I am seeing it," he said. "You would wish to bait Lord T'uris out of his barricade--with live bait! A female of his own liking?"

Nehef bared his teeth and made a hissing noise. "You forget! He has cooped himself with those dry old scrolls so long that HE has gone all dry, too! We even tried to coax him out with the offer of a new Moru! He would not even bite!"

"This is where the physician became helpful," Djuta said, frowning at him. He turned back to Mahakhi. "When one of the guards mentioned his fondness for wings, the old Kana gave a loud 'HA!' and stated that if he but had any Moru remaining, he could guarantee a way to get T'uris out of that room, simply by slipping something in with his food. Apparently he knows a concoction that can speed up the process of getting in the mood, so to speak..."

Nehef suddenly burst into laughter. Ahai'ikh covered his mouth so he sputtered. Mahakhi's face screwed up.

"You are suggesting we slip T'uris some sort of aphrodisiac?" he questioned. "Please tell me I am not hearing you right--? What sort of silly-headed plans are these--?"

"With respect, Lord, they may sound silly, yet if followed through what better way to convince Lord T'uris to leave his library? Nothing else has worked, and not from lack of trying. Perhaps what is needed is merely what he has not had available before--as well as a small nudge in the right direction. A little sip, and the offer of a new Moru, might be enough to get him to open his door. The offer of exactly the Moru he has always wished for might be enough to draw him away from his barricade and out into the open for a short while--long enough for you and your men to surround him. After that, whatever you wish to do shall be the result."

"So this is your lovely little plan," Mahakhi snorted. "Drug him and put him in heat, and then entice him with a nice plump Moru! This is hardly a military coup!" He crossed his arms and flared his nostrils. "And so say you can convince this physician to mix up a batch of this stuff, and to leave it in the dog's food, and to draw his interest with a Moru--then what? His Moru are all dead, and even if they were not, you yourself said he did not have a winged one. And good luck finding one in the markets after all Hiath'ikh has said!"

"This is where your own resources would prove useful, Lord," Djuta replied.

The other five Kana stared at him in silence, brows furrowed. It was a long while before understanding started dawning in their eyes, and the lieutenants cautiously shifted their gaze toward Mahakhi. The captain's face had grown dangerously dark and his lip twitched, ready to curl back.

"You had best not be suggesting what I think you are suggesting," he growled.

Djuta crossed his arm to his breast. "With respect, Lord, General T'uris would not be the first one to covet your Simit."

Mahakhi stood abruptly, his table nearly toppling over, and flared his wings with a snarl. All the lieutenants but Djuta cringed back, shielding themselves. "You SUGGEST that I hand my Moru over to that mutt as if she is BAIT?" he bellowed. "I do not know why I still refrain from slicing your head from your neck for suggesting that!"

"With respect, Lord," Hiath'ikh managed to stammer, "Lord T'uris has never shown a proclivity toward violence with his mates--I doubt he would mistreat her at all--"

"If the guards are right, he would likely treat her very well, despite the obvious--" added Nehef.

Mahakhi snarled again, much louder and uglier than before so they cringed a second time as if expecting to be beaten. "Lord, think on it," Ahai'ikh pleaded. "She is the only winged female within easy access! I do not know of any others within the tribe at this time!"

"If there were another, we would fetch her immediately--yet even if there is this could take weeks!" Nehef added.

"How much longer will the tribe last without new resources?" Resikh asked.

Mahakhi glared at each one of them in turn, snarling the entire time; yet as each spoke his piece the captain's resolve wavered a little more. He ended up glowering unpleasantly, but at least he sat down again. He put out his hand to tap his claws against the table but ended up digging them into it instead.

"Simit is my favorite," he growled. "You think it is so easy to pass her off as if she is but a plaything? I myself saw the look in T'uris's eye the moment he saw I had purchased her. He has lusted after her more than any Kana I know."

"This could also work to your advantage, Lord," Nehef coaxed. "What better way to surprise Lord T'uris than to send him such a peace offering? He may be suspicious of anything else, but to offer him your favorite--surely this will convince him it is safe enough to leave his library. He knows by now that much of the tribe is against him!"

Mahakhi gave him a baleful stare, then turned to look at Hiath'ikh. "You know him better than most do, so spit it out truthfully. She will meet with no harm there?"

Hiath'ikh fiddled his fingers nervously. "I cannot guarantee anything, Lord--but aside from...what happened to the rest of his Moru..." Mahakhi's face started to grow dark again, and Hiath'ikh spoke faster "...Lord T'uris has never shown any desire to harm a Moru. He is known for treating his mates well...until recently. And I doubt he will keep your Moru long enough for her to starve to death."

Mahakhi sat silently for so long that the rest of them started fidgeting, just slightly. When he rose he did so so abruptly that they flinched; he flared his wings before folding them behind his back again, and gave them another glare.

"I will speak with her. The decision will be hers. If she does not wish to go through with this in the least--if I sense even the slightest sign of her complying only to make me happy--then this plan will not go through, and you will have to seek another. Fasten wings to some other female's back, or better yet, use one of those shrine priests--they are feminine enough!" With this he turned and stomped away from the table, heading toward the stairs. The others watched until he was out of sight before letting out their breath in one big sigh. Resikh made a face and rubbed at his skullcap.

"I truly thought he was going to snap your head off, Djuta."

"You have bigger balls than I do," Nehef added with a stretch and a yawn.

Djuta pushed away his food. "He is stubborn sometimes. All you have to do is learn to wait him out before he comes around. Balls have nothing to do with it."

Nehef started laughing. The other four merely fiddled with the tables a bit before turning their heads to look out over the quieter-than-usual city.

* * * * *

The crowd of Moru peered around the edge of the partition into the section beyond, their ears pricking for any sign of what might be going on. It was not usual for a Kana to enter the Moru quarters, much less to stay there. They had cleared a path immediately when Captain Mahakhi had entered unannounced, seeking out Simit and taking her by the arm into the partitioned section of the room. Most of them had crept over expecting to see the big Kana mounting her in the far corner--what else would the master be here for?--yet for the past fifteen or twenty minutes, all they did was talk. Simit sat in the corner, her legs folded beneath her; Mahakhi crouched close by, holding one of her hands in his as he murmured. Akhahit and Thibu'het had the best view from where they were; the younger female glanced at Thibu'het every so often, but even the other Moru was having difficulty hearing what was being said, and had to shake her head more than once.

"I have heard something about General T'uris," she whispered. "He keeps saying his name. And something about a medicine, and leaving somewhere..."

"Oh no!" Dji'it, crouching behind them, whispered. "Simit is ill--?" The other Moru around them started whispering to each other, their eyes growing wide with near panic. Thibu'het's muzzle wrinkled and she waved her hand to shush them.

"No, no, no! Not that kind of medicine--some sort of drug. And Simit is not ill! Stop gossiping! I can hardly hear!"

"So why is he speaking with her?" Dji'it asked beneath her breath. "This is not normal, is it...?"

Akhahit shook her head and frowned. "No, to not be...to have never known a master to frequent Moru quarters. Especially not Mahakhi-Master! All to know how well he to like his own bed!"

Everyone fell silent and Thibu'het craned her neck to listen again, then frowned. "He just mentioned something about some other Moru--and--"

Simit abruptly pulled her hand away from Mahakhi's and let out a cry, clapping both hands to her face. The rest of the Moru stood and stared in silence. Mahakhi sat on his haunches and waited while the female rocked back and forth a little bit, letting out an odd muffled keening sound. She dropped her hands and gave him a horrified look.

"Pups?" she cried. "Any pups?" The Kana shook his head, and she again put her hands to her face and rocked back and forth, moaning even louder than before. Thibu'het's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I have no idea about what this might be!"

They stood still and waited until Mahakhi reached out to touch Simit's shoulder, as if to draw her attention. As soon as he did she dropped her hands a second time and nodded quickly, her eyes wet.

"Will do! Will do! For mates and pups--poor pups. To not lose more."

"You are certain of this, Simit?" Mahakhi pressed. "You are not obligated to obey me, this time. There are other ways, and I will not make you follow through."

Simit nodded her head again. "No more lost pups! To do. Just to say when. Simit to be ready."

Mahakhi let out a heavy sigh. He nodded at her, and stroked her cheek before rising to his feet, taking her hand and helping her up as well. When they turned to the partition the other Moru quickly fled back into the room as if they had not been interested in the least. Only Akhahit and Thibu'het remained crouching behind the plank, peering out warily as Mahakhi and his mate passed and exited from the quarters, the door shutting behind them. Thibu'het scratched at her head and Akhahit frowned.

"To just tell her, 'You are not obligated to obey me'...?" she murmured.

Thibu'het nodded, her brow furrowing. "Yes, I heard it also...this is beyond strange! A Kana asking a Moru's permission on something! And what was this with 'pups'? We have not lost any pups here, any time recently...whatever could be going on?"

Akhahit simply stared at the door. The mentions of T'uris's name drifted back into the Moru's heads, along with all the furtive whisperings of the other Kana regarding the general's state lately. Word, oddly enough, tended to spread much more quickly among the Moru than among the Kana, and much more reliably as well, given that most Kana didn't give a second thought to mere slaves overhearing their private thoughts. And so the mention of the general's name in a request made to another Moru held a particular significance, now.

"Whatever to be," she said, "to believe it to not take long for us to find out."

* * * * *

The shadows in General T'uris's household had already grown long, the sun just beginning to set beyond the western cliffs. Amber beams of light filtered across the floor as a pair of sandals snikked down the hallway. A low-ranking Kana from the kitchens appeared, making his way to the library door and setting the evening tray of food down in front of it as he was always instructed. He then stood and went on his way, leaving the hall in silence.

A moment or so passed, then another shadow emerged, creeping carefully along the wall. The older Kana peered from left to right, though it was doubtful that any would pass this way again, at least until daylight. He went toward the plate of food and stooped over it, his white lappets dangling as he retrieved a small vial from his belt and unstoppered it, pouring a few drops of its contents into the cup of wine. He started to replace the stopper, then thought better of it and sprinkled the rest of the liquid over the bread and fruit itself. No need tempting fate, should the general not be in the mood for a drink that evening.

The old Kana tucked the bottle away again and, like the servant before him, went on his way, albeit with a peculiar glint in his eye as he did so.

* * * * *

It was a wonder that T'uris's figure hadn't become permanently stooped by now, with the way he leaned over the Kemeti scrolls for hours on end, yet somehow it hadn't. He was in the middle of his fifth scroll that day--one he had read at least twice already--when he heard the small clank outside his door which signified his meal being left behind. He snorted with annoyance but knew he would have to eat if he wished to keep from starving to death. Merely eating and sleeping had become annoyances, now.

He lifted his head just enough to stare at the door. If it hadn't been for the oil lamp burning beside him, the entire library would have been plunged into darkness by now.

It is still not sleep time yet...the food can hold a little while longer.

With this he turned and leaned back over the scroll, narrowing his eyes. He frowned at the lines upon lines of text. It wasn't that he didn't understand it, for the written language of the Apsiu was much like that of the Kemeti, considering that they had borrowed it from their human neighbors, having little use of a written language of their own. Rather it was the content of the scrolls that intrigued him.

A tribe ever so much more powerful than ours...unstoppable...indestructible...neverending! A tribe ten times as great as the East Tribe exists out there somewhere...if only I knew where to find it...

The first scroll he had happened upon merely by chance. In a raid upon a human settlement, he couldn't help but to have noticed the one human who ran toward him, rather than away. T'uris had sat atop his Sha and watched this anomaly with mild curiosity. The human had been screaming something as a pair of soldiers came running after him, swords swinging. He had fallen at T'uris's feet, literally, grabbing hold of his ankle and seeming to appeal to him, all the while offering the tattered scroll. T'uris had never understood the spoken tongue of the Kemeti very well, as, unlike with the written language, the Apsiu and Kemeti languages were distinct; and so he had not much known what the man had been saying, aside from a word here and there--"Kana--defeat--help you--spare me--"

T'uris had accepted the scroll and turned it about in his hand curiously. When his men caught up and commenced bringing their swords down over the screaming man's head, he didn't object, nor did the pained shrieks for what he assumed to be mercy bother him too much. For as soon as he opened the scroll, he recognized the word Kana written there in the humans' hand, as well as more words which did a bit to enlighten the odd situation--great tribe--slaughter--thousands--merciless--undefeatable.

The scroll had been disappointingly vague, once he'd gotten it home. Yet its sparing content left him burning with curiosity. Surely the matter must be an important one, if that human had thought he could possibly appeal to a Kana for his life over it. He organized the next raid promptly, on a town just slightly to the south of the one they had already attacked, and back then, his men had not objected one bit; the thought of heading into battle again so soon had excited them. This time, however, he made certain to ask that the households not be razed until they had been cleared of all their papyri, a request which made the men frown in confusion yet obey, just so long as they got their share of the wealth. The scrolls had been duly delivered to T'uris himself. He had hardly overseen the dispersal of the rest of the loot, as he carried the papyri back to his library and dumped them upon the table and set about browsing their contents. To his irritation, they said very little whatsoever which helped illuminate what the first scroll had already said.

And so came a third raid, and a fourth...until every Kemeti settlement within a day's walking distance had been slaughtered and burned to the ground. T'uris's collection of scrolls grew. And at last, in a settlement it took over three days alone to ride out to, he located several which gave him the information he was looking for.

A far distance to the northwest...beyond even the East Tribe's far-reaching influence...another tribe resided. A great conglomeration of tribes, in fact, the one massive tribe being composed of many others. None knew how they had gained such military supremacy, yet they had, as whichever settlement they attacked, they did so swiftly and thoroughly, leaving not a sign of life behind. Men, women, children--they slaughtered them all, and took every last good they could find, before vanishing back to their mysterious homeland, which none had so far seen.

What was even odder about them, however, was that they attacked Apsiu settlements...and did the same. Neither Kana nor Moru nor even a female or a pup was spared, apparently. This tribe was not interested in seeking slaves or females to fatten its own stables. If he did not know better, he'd have thought they were looking merely for death...for that was all they ever left behind them.

The humans gave quite interesting descriptions of the carnage left behind...the torn and ripped and mutilated bodies, some with their limbs missing, or their guts cut open, or their genitalia sliced off or gouged out...pups' skulls were crushed...females were perhaps raped, though sexual gratification did not seem to be their main objective either, as the women's bodies lined the streets and houses as much as the men's, and were brutalized in much the same way...the ground ran slick and red with blood, and the stench and flies were such that the remains of the towns had been deemed unlivable forever by any who passed them, and even Kana lieutenants and captains, and high-ranking humans, shuddered and made protective gestures when passing such places. They were left to the jackals and vultures. None ventured even to bury the dead, or at least what was left of them.

The humans, also, gave a name to the tribe that both Kemeti and Apsiu alike dreaded and feared so much...the Blue Oasis...

And none, so far, knew exactly where their stronghold was, nor how they moved in and vanished again so brutally yet so stealthily, and although there were dozens of theories, none knew from whence came the Apsiu skulls which they wore upon their heads like some hideous masks as they made their attacks...

And T'uris had ordered yet more raids, and had scoured more scrolls, to little avail. Yet he couldn't help but worry that he had missed something. And so again he looked at them, and again, hoping for one little missed clue, any clue...

Yet this scroll didn't have any.

T'uris grumbled and swatted it aside so it fell to the floor. He sat back and rubbed his eyes. He got up and went to his door to retrieve his food before he should forget it and let the bread go cold and the wine go warm, and he made certain to down the entire cup, and consume a fig and a piece of the bread, just to quiet his growling stomach. He then sat down again at his table and stared darkly into space. All of this reading, for what?--he still didn't know the location of this tribe, nor what he could do to defeat them should they ever meet. They sounded just as the scrolls said they were...undefeatable...

An old fool wrote those scrolls. Fool humans. They do not understand what sort of skill it takes to defeat such an enemy. But I do, and I know I could defeat them if I could only find them...the goods, the slaves, the Kana just willing to defect, their numbers must be massive with these things...and if I but only had the right scroll, I could rule with such power, in their place...

Where is that damned scroll?

He stood again with a frustrated sigh and went to the far side of the library, poking around at the shelves. A couple of the scrolls there he had only browsed briefly, seeking specific words...perhaps the humans had grown vague at some point and started referring to the tribe only in hushed tones. He had seen it happen, as if uttering a name gave its owner power; that was a great belief of the Kemeti, one to which T'uris had never subscribed. The Blue Oasis could have achieved such great power through strength and skill alone, with no supernatural aid whatsoever...no matter how bizarre their tactics might have seemed...

He pulled down a few more scrolls and went back to sit at the table, absently consuming another fig. He looked at his cup and wished he had more wine, then told himself to forget it; there were more important things at hand. He opened one scroll and pressed it flat, weighing its ends down with the empty cup and the plate, and tried focusing once more on the little symbols inscribed therein...only to find that his mind kept wandering. He had been so intent on the scrolls that he didn't even pay attention to his wandering thoughts, simply continued to drag his mind back to his reading, only to have to do the same a moment later. When he pushed himself back from the table in irritation and rubbed at his eyes, his cup fell over and rolled off the table to land in his lap; T'uris snorted and jumped, wings flaring in startlement. He glanced down to see the cup fall to the floor now, rolling beyond his reach, and blinked several times.

What was that...?

His gaze shifted to his lap and suddenly all the things he'd been thinking of when he should have been reading started filtering through his head again. He'd thought of the little stick-figure people in the hieroglyphs, and had imagined odd little scenes of them twining together, joining themselves...pressing each other down...bending each other over...

He shook his head again, more abruptly this time, and ground his teeth. When that resulted in nothing he instead pressed his hands down over his lap but there was no mistaking the stirring there. "Damned thing!" he muttered through clenched teeth. "What sort of pathetic timing is this!"

He pushed all of the scrolls away now and stood, pacing from one end of the library to the next and back again, trying to work it off. Yet the more he paced the more his mind kept conjuring up all sorts of heated thoughts, and by the time he reached the far wall and had turned about a third time, his tail was flicking wildly from side to side and his wings were flaring. He continued gritting his teeth and pacing, lappets swinging.

What is this! I have not had this sort of nonsense happen since I was but a teenager in the army! A Kana--a general--should be able to control such things! Have I suddenly reverted thirty years or so--?

He paced a little quicker but that did little to resolve the situation. After a few more attempts he at last stopped at one of the columns with a barely suppressed snarl of frustration, pressing his hip and chest up against it as hard as he could and reaching beneath his kilt to squeeze his sheath. He grasped at the fabric of his loincloth and yanked it off, still not certain what he intended to do just as long as he did something--he found all he could do was bump himself against the column a few times, as there was nothing else suitable in the room. He'd honestly never had any desire to couple in the library before. He shut his eyes tight and frantically rubbed his hand up and down his swollen sheath.

I am the GENERAL! I should not have to pleasure myself thus--!

A knock came at the door just as he felt his tip begin to emerge. "Lord T'uris?"

T'uris's mane bristled and he whirled his head around. "WHAT?" he barked at the door.

"Lord, a message from Captain Mahakhi."

Of course the mutt would choose the worst possible time to bother him yet again; he'd had no end of trouble with the captain's men lately. "I said I am NOT to be disturbed while I am in here!" he snapped, squeezing at his sheath again to try to still the swelling.

A brief shuffling noise came from outside. "I know this, Lord, yet it's rather important--concerning the situation of the East Tribe."

Situation? This word made him open his eyes and still his motions, his ears flicking. What situation? What could Mahakhi possibly be speaking of? For the first time since the strange thoughts had descended upon him, something else intruded into his mind and pushed them slightly aside, and he felt a twinge of tension that he had not been paying as much attention to things as he should. Of course he knew Captain Mahakhi and his men were against him--they had been almost from the start, ever since he had not punished the robber Kana, as if it had been his duty to do so in the first place--but he had been certain he'd kept careful track of all they were up to. Even their furtive whisperings with the Red Tribe hadn't entirely escaped his attention. The only reason his first and second lieutenant had so far escaped punishment was because he knew they had turned upon him long ago. Those two had never been nearly as subtle as they thought...

"What is this, Lieutenant?" he shouted at the door, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. "I am very busy and can hardly deal with such distractions!"

"I realize this, Lord...yet Lord Mahakhi has wished to extend to you a peace offering."

"Peace offering--?" The words blurted out of T'uris's mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

"Yes, Lord...he realizes the difficulties his men have caused you as of late, and wished to make amends somehow. He wishes to let you know that he desires no ill will between your houses."

"What sort of juvenile stunt is this...?" T'uris grumbled, but he made his way for the door. Sheer will alone kept him from going fully hard, though he knew he couldn't hold it off for long, with the way his sheath strained. He found it amusing in a sick sort of way that he should have to try so hard to stop himself from going erect, when it was usually the other way around, though the thought didn't make him want to laugh in the least. Instead he yanked open the door and bared his teeth at the guard who stood outside. The lieutenant saluted. T'uris's muzzle wrinkled. Another disloyal one. His entire house was full of the scheming dogs.

"What sort of peace offering?" he hissed. "Make it quick and get it over with; I have things to do!"

The guard saluted again. "Yes, Lord." He turned his head and waved his arm and before T'uris could complain, a second shape stepped into view. T'uris's eyes went wide when he found himself staring into the eyes of a female. She was taller than most females he was used to, and her wings flared slightly behind her. T'uris blinked in surprise.

"S-Simit," he barely managed to whisper.

The lieutenant gave him a knowing look. "Lord Mahakhi remembered how interested you were in her when he purchased her, Lord...and he wished to show you there is no ill will between his house and yours. He asked that you be offered her as a sign of goodwill between the House of Mahakhi and the House of T'uris, so that you may know he and his men stand firmly behind you and any decisions you should make regarding the tribe. He also wishes to offer apologies for the way his men have been skulking about without your orders and causing you undue trouble..."

T'uris didn't hear anything beyond offered her. He merely continued staring at the Moru, who stared straight back, her hands folded at the small of her back and her wings tucked neatly behind her. She had always been an exceptionally neat and well-groomed Moru, her fur always clean and glistening and her wings always flawless...what was more was the way she carried herself, almost with an air of superiority, as if she demanded respect simply for being Moru. Not many other slaves acted in such a way, and those who did usually deserved what punishment they got...yet somehow, the attitude seemed right with Simit. She looked like, seemed like, a queen, and carried herself accordingly.

"...and so he had hoped to ask your forgiveness for the errors of his men," the lieutenant was still rambling on, when T'uris cut him off with a curt nod, eyes still fixed on Simit.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all."

"Actually, Lord, I was asked--"

"That will be all!" the general snapped, at last turning to glare at him. The lieutenant wilted a bit and T'uris took a breath to regain his composure. "Return to Lord Mahakhi and tell him that I thank him for his generous offer. I will speak with him myself in the morning."

The lieutenant opened his mouth, then paused and seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. "Yes, Lord," he replied instead, saluting and turning to walk away. He cast them both a brief glance over his shoulder before vanishing from sight.

T'uris waited another moment just in case, then turned back to the female. His eyes roamed her up and down, taking in--for what felt like the hundredth time, yet much closer this time--her subtle curves, the gentle swell of her breasts, the slight hollow between her legs. His sheath felt unbearably tight again.

He slipped his arm through hers, and felt her own arm tighten around his. "You are well with this?" he murmured to her, having no idea what he would do if she answered no. And so when she merely lowered her eyelids a bit, her mouth turning up in the slightest smile, his breath caught in his throat and he gently started to steer her down the hall.

"My quarters are this way," he said breathlessly. "I hope you find them acceptable." As they walked he couldn't help but keep glancing at her wings, the way they rose and fell slightly as she walked, and his breath came so fast it was a wonder his head didn't grow lighter than it already was.

The walk to his rooms felt longer than it had ever felt in his life, and merely unlatching his own door was almost enough to drive him mad. He fumbled at the handle several times before feeling Simit's cool fingers running along his arm. He glanced down at her and she smiled.

"Simit to always wonder what to be like, with general."

T'uris nearly whimpered. He pushed open the door violently and ushered her in, slamming and bolting it behind him. He started pulling at his belt, but she grasped him by the arms and pulled him toward her so his body pressed hers against the door. He gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly, as she trailed her fingers down his armor.

"Lord to prefer what...?" she murmured. "Nesakh'ai, ahi'akhta, hakh'tua...? All three? Or other...?"

T'uris had to struggle to breathe. "This we may decide in my bed," he whispered thickly; unable to resist, he lowered his head to nuzzle roughly at her neck, and she arched for him, letting out a sigh. He was so engrossed in her that he didn't even notice her free hand working the bolt in the door loose; just as she pulled it free, he grasped her arms, and walked her along with him toward the bed.

They reached the canopied dais upon which it stood and he tore the drapes aside as if wishing to be rid of them entirely. He gestured inside, and Simit obeyed, stepping up the dais in such a way that he ached terribly on watching her--the sway of her hips, the straight line of her back--gods! She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, then slowly climbed upon the bed, drawing her legs up under her. T'uris unfastened his belt and hastily pulled off his armor, tossing it away. He yanked off his kilt and hurled it aside as well so only his jewelry and skullcap remained, his loincloth already gone. Simit tilted her head to the side, her eyes drifting down his body; he stood as straight as he could for her to see him. He had always taken care of himself, and prided himself on his build, sturdy and lean and still strong despite his age. He was not much older than Mahakhi himself, though not nearly as big; this thought made him hesitate just slightly. She had mated with Captain Mahakhi many times before; how would he measure up to this? As if in response, she leaned forward on the bed so she was upon her belly and smiled again, tracing her fingers through the sheets.

"Lord-General to be...most impressive."

T'uris snorted with surprise. Then he beamed as if he had expected this response all along. He rubbed his hand against the side of his sheath and as if on cue, his shaft at last began to rise, emerging slick and hard, fully the length of his hand and more. He did not know if he could stand up to Mahakhi's length and girth, but he knew his size was impressive enough, and judging by the look on the Moru's face, she must have felt the same way.

His voice came thick and hoarse. "Do you enjoy what you see, Moru?"

Simit nodded, her smile spreading. He smiled in return, and she responded by giggling and sitting up in the bed. She reached for the hem of her dress and started shirking it up her body, over her knees and hips and breasts until she finally pulled it over her head and giggled coyly, before tossing it at him in a playful manner. T'uris grinned and caught the garment, pressing it to his nose to take a great sniff before discarding it. He advanced toward the bed and a second later jumped upon her, grabbing her arms and pinning her beneath him. She laughed aloud as he nuzzled at her neck and throat, letting go of her arms to run his hands down her perfect body. He tweaked her nipple and found it hard; she gasped and tightened, then melted beneath him, putting her arms around his waist and moaning at the air.

"I always believed you would be happier off with me," he panted huskily as he nuzzled. "Mahakhi may be bigger, yet I am more skilled than he ever will be...he may manage to fill you up, but I will bring you the greatest pleasure yet. You will be feeling sorry you were not with me sooner..."

The Moru moaned softly, writhing against him and running her hands up and down his flexing back. "Lord...Lord-General...Simit to be very lucky, with you...please to mate me, Lord..."

T'uris ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and slipped his fingers past her already wet folds, hearing her whimper. He pressed his muzzle to her ear, imprinting her scent on his memory. "I have thought of you since I first saw you," he whispered, and licked her ear; she shivered. "It was a pity you ended up with such a master...placed among all those other Moru as if you are but one cheap trinket of many...when you are the finest jewel in the necklace...if you had but been mine, I would never have dirtied my bed with another. You would have been all the mate I needed..." He rooted in her ear and she squirmed beneath him with a barely suppressed giggle. "If you wish," he panted, "I can order him to give you to me...I am the general, after all...he would have to obey."

She ran her hand up his chest and tilted her head to the side, her eyes large and luminous. "Lord to place Simit in Moru quarters with rest...?"

T'uris lifted his head and snorted. "The rest? Even if there were others I would hardly stick you among them. I rid myself of my Moru long ago. They did not suit my purpose." He leaned down once more to lick at her breast, the Moru taking in a deep breath. "No, I would keep you here...in my own quarters...and treat you exactly as you have always deserved to be treated...like the beautiful jewel you are..."

He was too busy with her breast to notice the way her muzzle wrinkled and her teeth bared slightly in disgust; by the time he lifted his head to look at her again, the expression was gone, a sweet smile having replaced it. T'uris snorted even more loudly than before to feel her hand running up and down his shaft, and he arched himself slightly, tail flicking, beaming again at the look of adoration on her face. How had he never noticed that she felt this way for him...? He would have demanded her a long time ago, had he known how she truly suffered beneath that dog...

He is not too bad a dog, however...he did offer me this prize...I cannot say I trust his motives, yet at least she is here, precisely when I had most need of her...if anything, his timing is better than I thought.

It didn't occur to him to question the strange timing, as his head had been full of a haze ever since the cup had fallen into his lap. Her fingertips twirled over his tip and he snorted a third time, pushing himself up and grasping her arm.

"Lord...?" she asked.

T'uris crawled up the bed and rose to his knees so he straddled her chest, though he refrained from sitting upon her...it would have been a shame to make her bruise those beautiful wings. Instead he pressed his hands to his groin and looked down at her, breathing heavily.

"I have heard you are good at hakh'tua," he panted. "Perhaps, if you may impress me, I will then impress you...?"

Simit's smile grew. She reached her hands up to twine with his, lifting her head and placing her mouth around him. T'uris's eyes fluttered shut and he let out a shaky breath; her tongue was the most exquisite he had ever felt, and he had not felt any in a long while. After a brief moment or two he let go of her hands to gently grasp her head, and her own hands trailed down to cup the sac dangling beneath, rolling it between her fingers. T'uris flicked his tail and let his head drop back, rocking his hips back and forward slowly. Her tongue curled around him, licked down to the root and back up again, even poked slightly into his opening, and he let out a thick murr, flaring his wings. He hoped she saw them and enjoyed them, though he was too engrossed in what she was doing to bother looking. He felt his seed throbbing to come, yet carefully pulled her away before it could; when she gave him a lazy-eyed look of puzzlement he stroked the side of her face.

"Not this, sweet Moru...I will not do so distasteful a thing as empty myself in your mouth...I will save that for where it truly matters." He cupped her face and smiled down at her. "I have been known to keep my mates pleasured for hours if they wish...I cannot guarantee I can rein myself in for you, but I can guarantee you will enjoy every moment of it."

She smiled. He pushed himself off of her, taking her by the arms. "Come...over," he whispered throatily, turning her about and pressing her head down to the bed. She stayed kneeling with her hindquarters raised and her shoulders lowered, not even needing prompting; his nostrils flared when he thought of how the captain had likely coerced her into such behavior. If it had been him, he would have treated her properly, as he did now, gathering pillows and pushing them under her hips to support her. He stroked her firm buttocks, feeling her flinch, yet not seeing the grimace of hate on her face. He leaned his head down toward hers and tickled her ear; she shivered in what might have been a silent giggle.

"Ideally," he whispered, and kissed her jaw, "I would most enjoy lying upon my back, and having you atop me...the better to see your beautiful wings. But perhaps this can wait until later...for I am searing hot inside, and only one way may do. Yet I may still see your lovely wings, and treat them appropriately...do you enjoy this?" He sat up and gently grasped one of her wings, running his tongue up the length of the edge, to the claw at the top. Simit gasped and whined, tightening and flaring her free wing; he took hold of it as well and did the same, then licked the straining membranes until she started squirming and whimpering and clawing at the sheets, her toes curling. A smile tugged at his face and he lowered her wings, taking hold of her hip.

"Ah, so you do enjoy it...I suppose Mahakhi has never treated them as is fit...many Kana are foolish and overlook such a thing. Yet I would never neglect the most important part of such a beautiful gem...but the rest will have to wait just a bit." He parted her buttocks and mounted her, easing himself smoothly yet quickly inside. Simit whimpered again and trembled; panting thickly, he pressed himself over her to clasp her nape in his teeth, waiting for her to tense and then loosen before gripping her thighs and tightening his buttocks in a thrust. She whined and he could not stop the low groan that escaped him, to feel her tight warmth accepting him. He ran his claws up and down her thighs with pleasure as he began to push, contracting and releasing in a leisurely pace which belied the heat raging inside him. He would have loved to push her down and impale her hard and fast, over and over, yet that could wait until later...when she was more used to his bed. For there was no way he would give her back to that scheming dog now...not now that she was here, beneath him, her body so perfect around him...

She was gasping now, in unison with his thrusts. T'uris flicked his ears, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure. He ran a hand up to squeeze her breast, loving the way she flinched, and more than once he let go of her nape to lick at her wings, watching with anticipation the way she arched and moaned aloud. He let out a guttural chuckle and bit her nape again, taking satisfaction in the way she went limp as he moved.

"I can tell you enjoy me," he growled huskily. "After the way that dog must have treated you all these years...a respite with a real Kana is much deserved...when we are done with this, I will show you even greater delights to be found in my bed..."

He ran his hand up between her legs, tweaking at her thik'ahi. Simit shuddered and flexed her wings...but he did not see that as she did so she bared her teeth and gave the most venomous look possible, rage, hatred, and disgust flickering through her dark eyes, and she could not completely suppress a hiss of loathing when he dirtied her wings with his tongue. More than once, when with Mahakhi, she had had to pretend the act excited her more than it truly had, if only to excite her master more, and increase his attentions toward her, as he had a tendency to rut hard and fast every so often, without thinking much of her own pleasure...yet despite what the general had said, he had never once been cruel with her. Even her presence here had been her own choice...and she had known from experience that her longtime act was likely to work, if the Kana was in enough heat. Apparently that had not been a problem, with how hard he'd been from the very start...she had not even had to draw him out. And so instead she moaned and whimpered and arched herself whenever it was appropriate, and hid her dark looks when he was too preoccupied to even notice them. Despite their obvious differences, most Kana were predictable in their reactions...and the general had reacted just as she'd expected him to. And so it hardly mattered now that she hissed in distaste, and cringed at his touch...his fogged mind took the reactions as signs of desire, and he increased his thrusting accordingly, grunting heavily as he pushed into her. Simit went limp again and tolerated him, even while thinking over how much more impressive Mahakhi had always been. She would have to appreciate him more, after going through with this. At least her master had never let a stable full of slaves and females and pups die...he had even taken in and tended to the strange tribe's Moru when they were ailing. The mere thought of what the general had done was more than enough to prompt her to accept such an abhorrent task, if only to know that it would help lead to his downfall...

Most Moru had never even conceived of such devious thoughts, but then again, most Moru had not heard the news Simit had heard. T'uris growled and ran his hands up her sides and she hissed, imagining herself biting off his testicles with her teeth.

The Kana at last gave a deep thrust and grunted thickly, and she shuddered to feel his seed seep inside her. Even his finish wasn't as good as Mahakhi's were. She reminded herself to go to the physician and seek out a drug that would make her abort the pup if she should conceive; the thought of carrying part of him inside her made her shudder again and he pulled himself out, stroking her hip. He moved to peer down at her as she panted into the pillows. She saw him frown slightly.

"Sweet one? I went too fast? I did not feel you come..."

Simit barely managed to suppress a grimace. She'd forgotten to feign her climax at the right moment; it was a little too late to do so now, and still hope to puff up his pride. She thought over what she would do if it were Mahakhi who had come too fast, and left her wanting, and then pushed herself so she rolled over off of the pillows and onto her back. She smiled up at him as coyly as she could, pressing her thighs together slightly and lifting her foot to trail her toes along his own leg. She kept her arms crossed just under her breasts so they protruded more than usual; the way his ears flicked and his eyes wandered downward showed her the trick was working.

"Simit to just...be so overcome," she cooed. "Sometimes, to take longer than usual...General-Kana so powerful, Simit to not bear it..."

"Ah, I see." His ear cocked and he snorted with an unpleasant look which made her pause. "That Mahakhi of yours," he continued. "I am betting he plows you so roughly that you can hardly enjoy good nesakh'ai anymore...not that you have had much of a chance at good nesakh'ai, until now...the stupid brute has probably damaged you when he was too busy rutting at you to get you to drop him some pups, rather than thinking of your pleasure."

Simit nearly hissed and snapped at him, but refrained. It was all she could do to force another smile; she trailed her toes up to tickle his sac, satisfying herself with imagining she could reach out and twist it off him any time she chose. T'uris snorted and lowered himself over her, but her foot stopped him.

"Lord to...suggest good idea earlier," she said sweetly. When he flicked his ear in confusion she smiled again and traced her fingers over his cheek. "Lord-General to be upon bottom, Simit upon top...? To see Simit's wings, and to feel most pleasurable...yes?"

He snorted again and she could tell he was just barely able to control himself. "Well...I had planned to save this until later," he said, very nearly slurring his words by now, his lust was so great. "Yet if it is what will bring you coming, then this is what we shall do..." He pushed himself up and took her by the arms, starting to lie down upon the bed, but Simit quickly took control, turning him over and pressing down on his arms until she sat atop him. T'uris's nostrils flared and he blinked at her in surprise; she smiled and raked the claws of one hand across his chest, making him wince at the sudden sharp pain.

"I see you are still enjoying this--!" he managed to say, then yelped when she gripped his testicles in her hand, a little harder than was comfortable. He made a face which clearly said he was starting to wonder if this had been a good idea, yet still gave her a shaky grimace of a smile, his eyes watering.

"That...that is a little bit more than I had wished for...perhaps you'd best keep your hands up here, and your bottom down there..."

Simit pouted but did as she was told, placing her hands upon his breast and lowering herself over him. She straddled his hips and her thighs spread wide as she came down; he scrabbled to quickly start rubbing at himself, but her leg pushed his hand away and she rubbed herself against him instead. She met his eyes and let out a low purr as she moved, and his breath spurted in his throat.

"None of my mates have ever made this noise," he whispered heatedly. She put back her head and let him rub at her throat as she continued purring and shifting, and as if on cue she felt his sheath begin to swell against her opening. She went right on moving as he dropped his own head back, whimpering at the air, their slick fluids merging as the thick head emerged from its constraints and rubbed against her thik'ahi. When she lifted herself a sticky wetness was left upon his groin and hers, and he let out his breath, panting weakly. His claws dug into the sheets and he opened his eyes.

"You are...more skilled than...I had thought," he gasped.

Simit only purred. "To have good teacher," she murmured, and before he could speak she spread her thighs wide and came down upon him abruptly enough to make him lose his breath and arch into her, his spine stiffening. He collapsed back to the bed just as she started to thrust herself forward and back, forward and back, riding him, her hands grasping his sides; after taking another moment to catch his breath he reached up to clasp her hips, gritting his teeth and bending his knees to dig his toes into the bed as they moved. His buttocks bunched and loosened beneath him, and he strained to urge himself more deeply into her, yet for the most part Simit controlled the actions. She remembered to flare her wings, and smirked to herself at the loud cry he let out on seeing them, reaching up his hands as if to touch the flaring membrane. She sat on her haunches and flexed and extended them with each push so he cried out continuously, and she laughed to herself at his apparent frustration at his inability to caress them. She supposed he'd never considered that possibility before.

"S-Simit!" he moaned aloud, arching himself into her. "Beautiful Simit!"

Simit responded by clawing his belly hard enough to draw blood; he barked, and she leaned down to claw his face, hissing and baring her teeth. He bared his own teeth in pain, distress flashing in his eyes as soon as they opened, yet she was prudent enough to shut her own eyes and heave a deep breath in a parody of ecstasy. She even trailed one hand up her own body, squeezing her own trembling breasts, peering out from beneath her nearly closed eyelids to see the radiant look on his face--just before she raked her claws over him once more, opening red grooves down his right arm. T'uris yelped and bucked and tears sprang to his eyes; she could tell he wanted her off of him right that moment, yet there was no way for him to demand so and save face. What real Kana would allow himself to be hurt by a mere Moru--especially during nesakh'ai? She knew he was thinking she was more trouble than he had thought her worth, and the thought made her want to laugh. Instead she pulled her hand away, her claws lined red, and squeezed her breasts again, then dropped both hands to grasp his waist; with a sharp buck she let out a loud wail, spreading her wings as wide as she could, and as if out of sheer relief at the act being over, the general ground his teeth and tensed beneath her, shooting his seed upward in a hot spurt. They both froze for a second before their muscles began to loosen, and Simit at last sank over him in a limp heap, panting hard. She shivered, though in revulsion at the slick feeling of him inside her; after a moment he gripped her arms and rolled her off of him so she collapsed at his side, and she tilted her head to look at him when he sat up, wincing and blinking the tears from his eyes. He gave her a furtive look as he rubbed at his scored arm.

"Well..." he managed in a quavery voice after they had both caught their breath. "This was...somewhat more spirited...than I had thought it would be. You must have been languishing under him quite sorely, to be filled with such...passion." Even as he said it he flinched, curling his arm in toward himself as blood leaked between his fingers.

Simit smiled and purred lazily. "Lord-General to be most exquisite," she cooed. "Simit to never feel the likes, before...hope to feel again, sometime soon. General T'uris-Kana to make Simit happy...?"

Brief panic flitted through his eyes; she nearly laughed out loud. "Perhaps in the morning," he blurted out, a little too hastily; when she made sure to give him a wide-eyed look he calmed himself and stroked her face. "When we are fresh from sleep, and have much more energy. If I were mad I would say someone had drugged my very food tonight, I have never felt so. Perhaps some sleep will help clear our heads...and let us enjoy ourselves better." He smiled shakily, his eyes still wet, and caressed her neck. "You will of course stay with me the night, won't you, sweet little Simit?" he murmured, and she paused to make certain that she heard the tone of his voice correctly; yes, he was pleading with her, and she knew that despite his injuries his head was still fogged with the idea of keeping her near. Her mouth twitched and she wanted nothing more than to crow with laughter at his stupidity, yet she held it off, and snuggled up to him and giggled softly instead, trailing her fingertips--not her claws, as it was best not to tempt fate too much--down his belly. Despite her caution, he still flinched at her touch, and she almost broke her resolution not to laugh at him. She placed her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes with a knowing smile.

"Lord-General's plan to sound perfect...stay with T'uris-Kana, awake with T'uris-Kana...then nesakh'ai again, all morning long."

T'uris beamed at her words, and put his arm around her, settling back into the bed...and when Simit let her hand oh-so-carefully trail over his damp sheath, as if by chance, she felt him tense, heard his soft whimper of forced restraint...and laughed at him in her head until she fell asleep.

* * * * *

The last lamp had finally burned out on its own, leaving the general's quarters almost completely in darkness but for the pale moonlight drifting in from the courtyard beyond. A gentle breeze off the river made the drapes shift and sway. T'uris lay upon his side, one arm and leg thrown over Simit's body; she dozed on her belly, yet the sputtering of the last lamp had woken her up long ago and now she lay perfectly silent. When the first small click came from the door, she opened one eye.

At first, she could see nothing beyond the gauzy drapes...yet after a moment or two, a very pale line emerged, hovering in midair, and it took her another moment to realize it was a bit of light streaming in from the hall beyond, where the oil lamps still burned. She focused on this slit of light, but for a long time it did not change. After some time it grew slightly wider, and then shapes appeared beyond it; she then saw the door open all the way as several figures crept in, becoming five, seven, a dozen and more. They took up positions throughout the room, and Simit's sharp eyes made out the glint of metal in every hand. When a large shape appeared in the doorway, stepping toward the bed, she very carefully lifted T'uris's arm from herself, pushing herself up. She stared at the dark figure and saw it jerk its head toward the courtyard; Simit obeyed the unspoken gesture, removing T'uris's leg from her own and slithering from the bed. She picked up her abandoned dress and slipped it over herself as she trotted silently toward the window, seeing the flush on the other Kana's faces as she passed. Once she had reached the safety of the courtyard's edge she turned back to peer inside.

The large figure gestured again, and one of the Kana at the far side of the room lit one of the lamps. It flickered to life and illuminated the room, clearly showing T'uris's bed surrounded by Mahakhi's men, each of them armed. Mahakhi himself stood closest to the bed; when the lamp did nothing to rouse the general from his sleep, he scowled and snorted.

Lieutenant Nehef took a step toward him and whispered close to his ear: "We can strike him now, without even a second blow--"

The captain whirled his head in his direction and hissed, baring his teeth so the younger Kana quickly retreated. Mahakhi glared at T'uris again before stomping to the side of the room and flinging open one of the chests. He dug around a moment before coming up with a sword, then stomped back to the bed and flung the weapon down at the floor. It landed with a horrendous clang, making every other Kana in the room jerk and grimace.

T'uris's eyes shot open and he snorted, then bolted upright, glancing around him in confusion. He saw the Kana standing ahead of the bed first and blinked, then looked to the right, then the left. When he saw Mahakhi his brow furrowed, but just briefly, before his eyes went dark and his muzzle wrinkled.

"'Peace offering,' eh?" he growled. "I had the feeling none of your offerings came free. I see you dragged her off already--? Did she serve your purpose well enough?"

Mahakhi's own muzzle wrinkled and he jerked his head toward the other side of the room. "Go ahead and look. She dragged herself away. As for serving my purpose, it was as much her purpose as well. Though gods know she will have to take quite a bath after spending time with garbage such as yourself."

T'uris turned to look toward the courtyard, having missed Simit before. His stare fell on her peering out from behind one of the columns, and she flared her ears and hissed at him viciously.

"Filthy Kana!" she snarled, and then spat on the floor.

T'uris's look grew even darker. "I see you poisoned her against me, too. Who is the one with garbage in his veins--?"

Simit hissed again and bared her claws, still red with his dried blood. "T'uris-dog kill pups! To despise such brutes! Mahakhi-Master good Kana. T'uris-dog awful! Tenkh'e hi'en!"

T'uris's lip curled back at the insult--rabid mutt--and he looked back at Mahakhi. "The little bitch learns from you well, at least. And so you will surround me, and slaughter me in my bed? I always knew you were a mutt yourself, Captain, yet I had somehow thought this sort of womanly behavior beneath you. Shows me how wrong that I was."

Mahakhi snarled and kicked the sword forward so it thudded against the side of the bed. He snatched up T'uris's discarded kilt and whipped it at him, the general actually putting up his arm as if to ward it off before it struck and tangled in the drapes. The other Kana in the room furrowed their brows in confusion but Mahakhi simply drew his own sword and jerked it at the other one. "Go ahead! All this was merely a decent way to drag your matted hide out of that library of yours. You should be grateful you had one last night of nesakh'ai, for this is the last time you will couple with somebody as lovely as Simit. After tonight you will be lucky if you can find a pretty little Sha you can mount!"

"You will be the one mating with Sha!" T'uris snapped in response, kicking the sheets aside and scooping up the sword. The other Kana in the room moved toward the bed in unison, brandishing their weapons, yet Mahakhi snarled and sliced his sword through the air, making them draw back. They stared on in bewilderment as T'uris stooped to grab his kilt and wrap it around himself, Mahakhi simply standing and letting him do so.

"Lord," Nehef urged, "we can strike right now! No other blood need be shed!"

"This can be finished easily, Lord," Hiath'ikh added from the other side of the bed. "Just let us help you!"

Mahakhi bared all of his teeth, his tusks glinting. "SILENCE, ALL OF YOU! You are merely here as my men--my tribe! I do not need your help to fight a dog! And I will not fight like a coward! You will not have another murderer of Moru as your general--I will kill him PROPERLY!"

T'uris yanked aside the drapes and stepped down from the bed, holding up his sword and baring his own teeth. "They were Moru--it is hardly murder if they are nothing more than slaves! I paid for them, and it was my decision not to pay for them! Why should I waste my money on such inferior stock when better things await me!"

Mahakhi bellowed at the air, his hackles rising. "MURDER IS MURDER! You will say these words so callously, and yet accept my Simit without a second thought? Hypocrite! You are the only inferior stock to be found in this room! You belong in the same place as those robber lapdogs of yours!"

T'uris hissed. "And all THEY got was Moru, as well! I heard of how you spoke with those mongrels of Nehekhi--as if you are equals! You were always far too sentimental for your own good!"

The captain roared and lunged toward him, swinging his sword. T'uris brought up his own and blocked the attack easily. Their handguards locked and they bared their teeth in each other's face, both struggling to stay upright as Simit and the other Kana watched in awe.

"Lord Nehekhi is my comrade!" Mahakhi snarled. "My comrade! His Moru are as my own Moru! When they are mistreated, it is a blow dealt to my own house. This is how it is with brothers! Time was when I would have done the same for you as I did for him--yet you no longer deserve this treatment! You are no longer my brother! You are nothing but a mindless brute!"

"This is meant to insult me?" T'uris barked. "Then you may as well try again! I do not care that I am not your 'brother'! I am MASTER of this tribe! Every one of you served me!" He craned his neck to glare at the others surrounding the bed. "EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! Nehef, Ahai'ikh, you yellow-tailed sheep! This is the one real mistake I made, entrusting you as my lieutenants! You are as loyal as vultures fighting over a corpse--I await the day you turn upon each other! Djuta! Resikh! I hope you enjoy panting after and servicing your captain once he is finished! Do not think I did not know all the things you did behind my back, Djuta! I should never have allowed you within this tribe! And you, Hiath'ikh--you are the worst of the lot! Consorting with humans when you are meant to be slaughtering them! Perhaps Nehekhi and Mahakhi learned from you--how simpering and womanly one must be to couple with those wretches--!"

Nehef and Resikh both bared their teeth and started forward, yet a resounding CLANG made them freeze. Mahakhi brought his sword up under T'uris's and the two of them started struggling to remain on their feet again, although it looked as if Mahakhi had the upper hand, as his face did not look nearly so strained as T'uris's at that moment.

Mahakhi leaned close so their muzzles almost touched. "You wish a fight?" he growled. "Then you fight with me. For once, my men do not fight for me, and yours do not fight for you. You demanded a fair fight, then this is it--the two of us. Then you can never crow that I was a coward, when you are the one who leaves all his Moru to die! Pray tell, were those damned scrolls of yours so very worth it, as you sat and waited for the screaming and pounding and pleading to stop?"

T'uris strained his arms, managing to slightly lower Mahakhi's sword. His lip curled back. "I did not even have to hear them. It is convenient to live within such a big household! Not that you would know anything about quiet, with how you grunt and snort at your females all night!"

They broke their swords free, then immediately locked them together again, cancelling out each other's blow. Mahakhi's sword was on top now, T'uris's beneath; Mahakhi fought to bring his arms down while the general struggled to bring his up. The ugly red slashes Simit had left along his arm had opened up and started seeping blood again, and the other Kana craned their necks, eyes wide, to hear what was being said since the two hissed at each other as if no one else were within the room. Mahakhi's eyes flashed red with hate.

"Better to snort at one's females than to lock them away like refuse! I hope you enjoyed your reading--for when I am done here, I will burn every one of those accursed things, and force the ashes down your gaping throat. Perhaps some demon in the Duat will fancy you giving him hakh'tua!"

T'uris snarled. "You would be the world's biggest fool to burn those! THEY are the reason such Moru were so worthless to me! If you but knew what I know, you would toss away your own pathetic dregs yourself. Including your whore Simit! For I know of a place where MUCH better Moru and Kana than any of you can be found!"

Mahakhi bellowed and yanked his sword back so T'uris's flew upward. The general nearly toppled backward, his ankle tangling in the drapes almost tripping him, but he grabbed onto the fabric with his free hand and managed to halt his fall. Just as he brought his own sword forward to parry the blow the captain was aiming right at him, however, its grip slipped from his hand, slick with the blood still trickling down his arm, and it clattered harmlessly to the floor. He had enough time to lift his head and open his mouth before Mahakhi's sword rammed through his gut.

Simit gasped and flung her arm over her eyes. The lieutenants hissed and took a step back, ears flicking wildly. The sword came out through T'uris's back and his spine arched, eyes going wide, then Mahakhi yanked the weapon toward himself, drawing it loose. He took a step back, blood running down the metal; the general's fingers knotted in the drapes and he started to sink to the floor, tearing the cloth loose from its frame as he crumpled to his knees. He sat panting heavily, his eyes glazing and staring right through Mahakhi rather than at him; everyone else in the room stood silent, watching him. Mahakhi's muzzle wrinkled and he lowered his sword, then spat on the floor.

"I hope this lovely place is somewhere in the Duat!" he snarled. "For that is the only place you will ever enjoy again!"

T'uris gasped for breath, and slowly brought his bloody hand to press against his wound. Blood streamed down his front, his kilt already stained deep red; his fingers clasped weakly at his belly as if to stanch the flow, yet it was useless. Instead of crying as he had when Simit had clawed him, however, he managed to drag his head up, a faint, ghoulish smile coming to his mouth. Red lined his teeth, and this and the shadows under his eyes made him look even more unnerving than before. The lieutenants started fidgeting, but Mahakhi held his stare, nostrils flaring.

T'uris let out a wheezing sound that might have been a laugh. "You...think...it is in the...Duat...?" he gasped. "Actually...it is...much closer than...you think. Had I but...gotten the...right scrolls from those...humans...the Moru wouldn't have mattered...we would be...rich beyond our wildest...dreams." He wheezed again, more obviously a laugh this time, yet just as he did a fresh gout of blood poured from the hole in his gut and he grimaced, his face twisting up in pain. He clutched tightly at the wound and struggled to speak as more blood leaked from his mouth, his words slurring.

"Without me and those scrolls...all of you...are as good as...dead."

Mahakhi's lip curled back and he raised his sword, yet the general was already gone. T'uris's eyes glazed over and his bloody hand fell away from his wound, just as he slowly slumped sideways, landing with a limp thud. His head rolled back before coming to a rest, his red tongue lolling over his teeth, and his eyes fixed in a glassy stare just as the blood at last slowed in its flowing from his belly, one last gurgling breath hissing out between his teeth. The room fell into deep silence then, the others staring at the crumpled T'uris as if expecting him to come back to life, yet the general didn't move again. A long while passed in this manner before anyone dared to move.

Mahakhi lifted his head a little, still eyeing the dead Kana, then snorted once more, loudly. He turned abruptly away from the body and jerked his hand at the air, making the rest of the Kana flinch at the unexpected gesture. A few of them saluted, not quite certain what to do.

Nehef was the only one with the presence of mind to step forward as he saluted. "Lord--?"

"Drag his carcass out of here," Mahakhi growled. "Bring him to the street. I want an example made of him before he's thrown out for good. Word is bound to be spreading by now of this, and I want everyone to know what they are up against if they still wish to side with this dog."

Nehef bobbed his head. "Yes, Lord." He turned back as two of the other lieutenants grabbed T'uris by the arms and pulled him upright, his head lolling back to bare his throat; one of them stripped him of his general's lappets and these were brought to Mahakhi, but he batted them away with a look of disgust.

"I will have my own pair made! Take them from his skull to prove what a Moru he is, but I will hardly wear them on mine!"

"Yes, Lord..."

Mahakhi turned and swept from the room, his sandals clacking. Nehef and Ahai'ikh hastened to follow, and the rest of the Kana followed suit, one of the lesser lieutenants leading Simit away by the arm as the others carried T'uris's body and went after the captain, a slight trail of blood leading away from the old general's room.

* * * * *

A great commotion was already rising outside the household of General T'uris. A few of T'uris's men had fled the house, whispering wildly to the guards outside, who chattered to whoever happened by, who spread the word to anyone else within sight. As a crowd of civilians, barracks Kana, retired soldiers, and city guards alike started gathering outside the gate, rumors were quickly being passed around by mouth.

"...a great group of Kana making their way to the house..."

"Captain Mahakhi was in the lead! I saw him myself!..."

"A bunch of the lieutenants, too..."

"...thought I heard fighting going on--is everyone dead--?..."

"They are slaughtering him and all his men, I just know it!..."

"No, fool, Mahakhi is the one being slaughtered!--for such a foolish plan...!"

The excited talk began to die down as the clacking sound of sandals approached, and the gate of T'uris's house began to open. Everyone backed away, still craning their necks and murmuring in curiosity. Captain Mahakhi came striding out first, his sword at his side and a scowl on his face; the murmurs rose a little to see blood staining his hands. He halted within several paces of the main part of the crowd, and now the chattering ceased entirely, two lieutenants emerging and dragging General T'uris between them. They held him up under his arms so his head hung forward, his legs dragging along the ground; the crowd's eyes widened on seeing the drying blood crusting his front. The rest of the lieutenants began to appear behind the first two and took up stations at the edge of the crowd, hands on their pommels and their stances stiff.

"East Tribe!" Mahakhi shouted, turning his head to survey the crowd. By now almost everyone from the city had trailed forward so the street was blocked a good ways back, and more had appeared on the rooftops nearby to get a better look. None of them spoke. Mahakhi made certain to look upwards to include all of the Apsiu in his speech, and a few of them fidgeted. "There has been a change! T'uris-Kana the Fourth, son of T'uris-Kana the Third, is no longer your general! I, Mahakhi-Kana, am now your general! The household has been seized and secured and only he whose death was warranted has been killed." He flicked his hand, and the lieutenants brought T'uris's body forward, halting and tilting up his head so the crowd could see his face. They murmured and shifted on seeing his glazed eyes and protruding tongue, but none protested. "This coup has been made as bloodless as possible, for already the East Tribe suffers severely due to the hardships inflicted on us by this Kana!" Mahakhi continued, gesturing at T'uris. "The men have gone without fighting, the Kana have gone without Moru, and all have gone without food and drink because of this one! He himself dealt certain death to his entire stable of Moru!"

The murmuring arose again and everyone started darting looks at each other, brows furrowing and tongues wagging. More than a few shot T'uris suspicious glances, and it was obvious that a few more rumors were going to be starting soon enough.

Mahakhi waited a moment for the noise to abate, then stood upright as tall as he could, flaring his wings. "Any who oppose my leadership are free to leave this tribe and test their luck in the desert! And any who still insist on siding with this dead dog will be dealt the same fate as his!" The Kana in the crowd began casting nervous glances around themselves to see more lieutenants, with their captains, riding up behind and off to the sides, surrounding the clearing. Ahen and several other captains of the grand tribunal were within sight near the back, and on seeing them those in the crowd seemed to untense just a little, as if realizing how unanimous the coup truly had been. Mahakhi continued speaking, drawing their attention.

"And," he shouted, "any of you in agreement with my leadership, are hailed as true Kana of the East Tribe! You will no longer be forced to sit upon your hands and wait while your stomachs go empty. The East Tribe was once feared and renowned for its bravery and ferocity in battle and in conquest. Those days are long past, yet under me they shall come again!"

The guards and retired soldiers in the crowd were the first to raise their swords and start cheering, their voices strident. The blacksmiths and armorers joined in soon enough, as well as the Moru traders, and it was only the lesser merchants who hesitated only briefly before following suit, still eyeing those around them. No one said a word in opposition, and the crowd parted easily to let the lieutenants through when Mahakhi gestured them forward. They let go of T'uris's arms and commenced dragging him by his ankles, his head striking the ground with a thunk and his arms trailing out behind him. Several Kana stepped forward to spit and kick dust on his corpse as it passed by, all of them hissing and sneering and baring their teeth in disgust. Some made rude gestures, one or two even turning and lifting their kilts to bare their backsides at him contemptuously while others laughed. By the time T'uris's body reached the end of the street a small mob of Kana broke loose from the crowd and ran at him shrieking, drawing their daggers and launching themselves at his wings. The lieutenants let go of him to avoid being injured, and the mob was left to deal with the dead general on their own, snarling and spitting and slashing his limp wings to ribbons as he lay senseless on the ground. Mahakhi stood where he had been left and watched the grisly scene from a distance, more of the crowd gathering around to watch the spectacle in great amusement, still shaking their weapons at the air and hooting gleefully. Even some Moru and children had appeared in the street now, cocking their heads to see what was going on; as soon as word spread of what had become of T'uris's Moru, Mahakhi's ear flicked to see a few slaves join in the desecration of T'uris's corpse as well, none of the Kana doing anything to stop them; if anything, they seemed to laugh and cheer even louder.

Mahakhi let out a small sigh. Nehef and Ahai'ikh stepped up to him and saluted and he looked down at them.

"We are ready to serve as first and second lieutenant, Lord, if you will have us," Nehef said.

Mahakhi looked from one to the other, then nodded curtly. "If only because it is too much bother to seek out new ones," he gruffed, and the lieutenants' mouths twitched in amusement. He looked back up to see the crowd lifting T'uris's pathetic remains and parading him around while others threw things at him and attempted to knock him down again. "I will be glad once this day is over. The things you lieutenants have put me through, when all I wished was to pass the night with my mates. I dread to think of what you will think up next."

"Actually, Lord..." Nehef started to say, Ahai'ikh nudging him in the ribs; Mahakhi crossed his arms and stared at the riot in front of him as if losing interest in them completely, though his stare seemed removed from the action, somehow. His ears flicked a few times and he spoke up, cutting Nehef off.

"Go and find the scribe," he ordered. "Have him pen a message for immediate delivery."

The other two frowned in puzzlement. "Lord...?"

Mahakhi gestured absently, not bothering to even look at them. "To Captain Nehekhi-Kana of the Red Tribe. Have it delivered to none other than him. Pen a dummy message for Djiu, if you must, yet make certain this one gets to Nehekhi alone." He paused, then added almost in a mutter, "It is time someone did something about that general of his."

Nehef and Ahai'ikh stared at him in silence for a moment or two, then saluted and stepped away. As they retreated they turned to look at each other, and slowly grinned.

Continue:

"Lost Chapter 2: Coup" 


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