A Little Nothing

Please note that no part of this story may be reproduced electronically or in print without the express permission of the authors.
This story is the intellectual property of Aramis Dagaz, Joan Jacobsen, The Silver Coyote, and Tigermark and is copyright © 2004 - 2008 to the authors.
See below for additional copyright information.

Foreword

This story is a collaboration of four authors whose copyrighted characters appear as noted below. Other copyrighted characters are used with permission as noted. This is a "round robin" story, in which each of the four authors writes a section and then passes it on to the next. None of us knows, from one section to the next, where the story is going to go, or what new characters or events may be introduced into it. The title is a working title, until we come up with something better. We may never do that...

We can thank Dan Hoffman for starting this fun. His character of Aramis Dagaz is copyrighted and may not be used without his permission. The parts of this story written by Dan are shown in Times New Roman font. Send an e-mail to Dan or visit his live journal. Jump to Dan’s contributions: part I, part IV, part VII, part X, part XIII, part XVII, part XXI.

SC was the next to take a stab at this. The characters of José Ortiz "Joe" Latrans, Annie Latrans, and the "bowtie beast" are copyright © The Silver Coyote, 2004 - 2008. Do not use them without his permission. SC’s contributions are shown in Courier font. Send an e-mail to SC or visit his web site. Jump to SC’s contributions: part II, part V, part VIII, part XI, part XIV, part XVIII, part XXII.

Tigermark is the third member of our team. His namesake character and that of "TL" are copyright © Tigermark, 2004 - 2008, and may not be used without permission. Tigermark’s contributions are shown using Arial Helvetica font. Send an e-mail to Tigermark or visit his web site. Jump to Tigermark’s contributions: part III, part VI, part IX, part XII, part XV, part XIX, part XXIII.

After each of the three amigos had contributed five chapters each we became four when Joan joined us early in 2006. I’m not sure what we’ll call ourselves now, I somehow don’t see us being the four musketeers or anything like that... Maybe our Filly can come up with a new name for us. In any event, Joan’s character of Aslaug is copyright © Joan Jacobsen 2004 - 2008 and may not be used without her permission. Joan’s contributions to the story are shown in Verdana font. Visit Joan’s forums at Planet Furry or visit her web site. Jump to Joan’s contributions: part XVI, part XX.

Finally, the character of Cutter Long is copyright © Cirrel, 2003. Visit Cirrel’s web site.

This file may be mirrored at the web sites of each of the four authors.

Other characters were developed by the team as a whole as the story developed. To be honest, I’m not sure how to copyright them, or even if we should.

Enjoy!

The inside of the tavern was cooler than the hot spring day outside, but not by much. The coyote was glad to get out of the sun anyway, having traveled several days in the arid mountains to the south. He stamped the dust from his feet as he let his eyes adjust to the dark interior. The silver that permeated every hair in his fur made him look old at first glance, but his eyes still held a spark of youth and his posture spoke of a fur who had seen much but still had much left to experience.

As soon as the coyote felt that he could spot any disturbance inside without hindrance, he walked towards the common room with a sense of purpose worthy of a veteran of many battles, be it on the battlefield or in the king’s court. Just before he crossed the threshold, a tough-looking wolverine with scars cutting lines in his fur stopped him.

“Just a moment there, buddy,” the beastly fur said in a voice like a dull blade on a whetstone, “you need to leave your weapons here first.”

The coyote merely shrugged and undid the strap that held his five-foot greatsword in place across his back. He laid the huge blade on the nearby table, causing the old piece of furniture to groan slightly under the weight. Casually the coyote undid the brooch on his cloak and also set it on the table. The wolverine’s eyebrow raised slightly as he caught a glimpse of the array of throwing knives hidden in the folds of the cloak. The coyote continued to pull daggers and darts from various places on his furson and added them to the growing pile on the table, which was now bending a little under the mass of steel placed upon it.

Finally the coyote pulled from his belt a large knife bound to its scabbard by an ornate strip of silk. He regarded it for a moment and looked at the guard straight in the eyes. “I’ll hold onto this one, if you don’t mind,” he said in a causal yet firm voice that brooked no argument.

The wolverine glanced at the coyote, the pile of weapons, then back at the coyote. The canine’s eyes looked sharper than any of the blades he gave up. “Just don’t cause trouble,” he growled and waved him through.

The coyote stuffed the scabbard back into his belt and entered the common room. He glanced around, ignoring the stares he received from the other patrons. Finally he spotted a large white tiger sitting by himself in a corner of the room. The coyote smiled and padded over to the table.

Suddenly the fur on the back of his neck rose slightly. Instantly he grabbed an empty tankard from a nearby table and spun around, using the vessel to deflect the spoon that was flying towards his head.

“Dang! I was close that time, too!” said a youthful feline as he stepped out of the shadows of the room.

The coyote chuckled as he set the tankard back on the table. “You have to get up very early in the morning to catch me off-guard, Aramis,” he replied.

“I’ll get you one day, Joe, and when that happens all I’m going to do is laugh.”

“Yeah, at my funeral,” Joe laughed and grabbed the feline in a tight embrace. “It’s good to see you again, you young whelp.”

“And it’s good to see you again, you old dog,” Aramis said, “assuming I don’t black out first.”

Joe laughed again and released his hold on the young feline. “Such a pussy cat,” he murmured good-naturedly. The two furs walked to the table where the white tiger was seated and sat down.

“Welcome back, Joe,” the tiger said. “I see that the mountains haven’t killed you yet.”

“Not a chance, Tigermark,” Joe replied. “I know those molehills like the back of my paw. I’m much more likely to die in the city than in my native habitat.”

“Speaking of travels,” Tigermark interjected, “how are Annie and the pups doing?”

“Oh, the pups are doing just fine, as always. They enjoy these forays into the mountains, getting them back to their roots. Annie is doing much better now, after she saw the master healer on Calif’s Mount.”

“Well, that’s certainly good to hear,” Aramis said.

“Yep, it certainly is.” Joe’s eyes became a bit distant and dreamy as he thought about his lovely vulpine wife. “Even if her knee wasn’t injured, the trip gave us some time to be together after all the demands on our time from the Guilds.”

“Uh-oh,” Aramis chuckled and nudged Tigermark with his elbow. “I think we’re about to become godfathers again, Tigermark.” The felines laughed hard and Joe chuckled as well.

“Just you wait, young one,” Joe said with a smile as the laughter died down. “When you’re awash with kits of your own, all I’m going to do is laugh.”

“Speaking of which,” Tigermark commented as he extended a claw and used it to part the fur on Aramis’s face, revealing discolored skin underneath. “Where did this bruise come from? Looks somewhat like a rug burn.”

“Oh, really?” Joe asked, his mischievous grin growing larger. “I knew you were in love with your malamute ladyfriend, but you should at least wait until you’re married before you two start having cubs together.”

“W-what?” Aramis stammered, his face turning a deep crimson under his fur.

“It’s okay, though,” Tigermark said jovially, placing an arm around the younger feline’s shoulders. “We’ll happily be the godfathers of any cubs you sire, won’t we Joe?”

“N-no! It’s not like that!” Aramis protested.

“Then where did the rug burn come from?” Joe asked.

“She was happy to see me after I got back from the trademeet up north and we ended up wrestling playfully,” Aramis said. “Nothing else happened, it was all perfectly innocent.”

“‘Wrestling playfully,’” Joe repeated, his smile growing larger. “Sure, we believe you Aramis.” Aramis just glared at the coyote.

Tigermark laughed and clapped Aramis on the shoulder. “Oh, lighten up, Aramis. We’re just teasing you.”

As they all sat down at the table Joe reached into a vest pocket and removed a toothpick and placed it in his mouth. Relaxing back into the wooden chair he was seated in, he glanced first at Aramis and then to Tigermark. "So, T..." Joe looked into his old friend’s green eyes. "How’s the prettiest lynx in the valley?"

The tiger smiled broadly. "She and the tinx are safe and well, thank you my friend. She said to greet the two of you from the green hills of the Tiger’s Den."

Aramis and Joe gazed steadily upon the tiger’s countenance, waiting. After a few moments Aramis asked "Is that all she said?"

Tigermark grinned at the young feline, shaking his head in the negative. "She said that you two will be in trouble up to your ears if any of us gets broken this time out. ’No funny stuff,’ she said. ’Get in, get it done, come home. No heroics.’" Tigermark lifted a small, cut crystal glass to his dry lips and sipped the lukewarm tea from within.

At the mild rebuke delivered in this short message Joe sighed absently, while Aramis shuffled his feet on the dusty floor. As Joe’s gaze scanned the room again, a scruffy yet somehow fetching-looking young doe rabbit approached the table, dressed in a worn but clean peasant blouse and short skirt. Smiling at the latest arrival she asked "May I get you something, good sir?"

Joe made a point of looking over both shoulders before returning his attention to the doe. "My name is Joe," he said to her, smiling while holding her gaze. "Most furs call my father sir, but he’s not here." He grinned at her. "Try again?"

The doe smiled cautiously back at him. "Can I get you something, Joe?" she asked a bit timidly.

Joe reached within his vest briefly to fetch a gold coin from an interior pocket, revealing a flash of silk within. Flipping the coin off his claw towards her, he said simply "whiskey" as the coin sailed through the air, spinning. She caught it adeptly, smiling to him, and then turned to look at Aramis and Tigermark.

"Gentlefurs?"

The two felines shook their heads in the negative, Aramis indicating his glass and saying "Check back with us in a while."

The doe smiled brightly at the young cat and replied "certainly" in a happy voice. Turning to the coyote her smile diminished just enough to be noticed as she said "Right away, Joe." She turned and walked briskly towards the bar, feeling the three sets of eyes that followed her movements. She added a little energy to the swishing of her tail for their benefit.

Aramis giggled after she had disappeared from view. "What are you two old warriors looking at?" he inquired.

Tigermark coughed a bit and said "One of God’s creatures."

"Hell, Aramis," Joe grumped. "My eyes have feasted upon the perfect works of the Master. I have seen the best red fox that ever was. Excuse me if my tired old eyes are somewhat bored after a day’s desert crossing." Turning his attention from the younger cat to the tiger Joe continued.

"So TL was a little put out by our... imperfections after the last assignment?"

A frown crossed the tiger’s face as he leaned forward, elbows on the table before him. Lowering his voice he replied a bit gruffly. "Joe, you took a beating on our last job and almost lost your left paw. Poor Aramis there, were it not for the miracles of modern armor, would not be able to father those kits we were just teasing him about, and he’s still walking with a bit of a limp even now."

The tiger raised a paw to rub the top of his head just inboard of his right ear. "As for me, this ear still doesn’t work right." He demonstrated by turning his ears, as though tracking something without moving his head. His left ear moved freely through its range of motion, but his right ear exhibited greatly reduced movement. As he continued to rub his head glimpses of a ragged, ruddy looking scar were visible just below his right ear, beneath the fur.

Joe stared at his friend for long moments, slowly leaning forward himself as he inadvertently flexed his left paw. Even though the room was dimly lit his eyes contracted in a squint.

Aramis cleared his throat as he leaned forward as well. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Tiger, there must have been at least a couple dozen of them. By God’s grace we survived to fight again."

"My intelligence," Joe growled quietly, interrupting, "was that the target was lightly guarded." The toothpick ceased all movement in the coyote’s mouth. "None of my contacts knew anything of the presence of the Elite Guard of The Mage. There was no way any of us could have foreseen that trap."

All three furs glanced up and leaned back at the approach of the doe, who quickly placed a bottle and a shot glass before Joe. Nodding to him, she glanced briefly at the two felines again before departing.

Joe took the time to pour himself a shot of whatever was in the bottle. Raising the glass to his nose he sniffed gently, mumbled under his breath, and tossed off the drink. The squint of his eyes tightened briefly.

The tiger stared at him, the emotion suddenly thick around the table. He felt it, and saw it on the faces of his friends.

"What did you say?" Aramis asked of Joe.

Joe turned his blue eyes to the youngest member of the team and stared at him.

"I was thanking God," the coyote growled. "For another day." He picked up the bottle and poured another shot. "For another chance to fight beside my friends. To protect what I cherish. To uphold what I believe in. To affirm our faith." Joe’s paw reached for the shot glass, but the tiger’s paw flashed out to stop him.

"Joe," he rumbled quietly, "no one was to blame for the way the last action went. We survived, we completed our assignment, and we have recovered to fight again." The tiger’s paw squeezed the coyote’s gently. "I accepted this mission with joy. TL is behind us, all of us, absolutely."

Joe nodded slowly, working the toothpick in his mouth. His eyes softened ever so slightly.

Tigermark smiled briefly. "I see Benny let you bring along ’Number One’."

Aramis looked from the coyote to the tiger. "Number One?" he asked absently.

By way of a reply Joe carefully reached within his vest again for the silk that had been briefly visible earlier. Removing it along with the sheathed tanto knife it was attached to, he passed the ensemble to Aramis discretely.

Aramis partially withdrew the blade and whistled softly. He admired the craftsmanship of the honed weapon for a full minute before looking up to Joe’s eyes.

"My father’s," Joe said simply. "With which he avenged the death of my mother."

Aramis’ eyes grew large at this revelation, and he turned his eyes to the tiger, who just nodded at him.

Joe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Again he reached for the shot glass, and after tossing off his second drink placed it carefully on the neck of the bottle, upside down. He smiled at Aramis as the young cat returned the ornate weapon to him, and placed the sheathed tanto within his vest.

The smile remained on the coyote’s face as he turned his head towards his best friend. "So tell us, T. What’s the target this time?"

Just as Tigermark started to answer a loud whoop and a rush of laughter from off to their right caught all three friend’s attention. The young rabbit doe who had waited on them had poured the contents of the jug she held over the head of a now-sputtering young wolf. His three friends, a large bull terrier, a stout-looking young bear, and a slim whippet, were laughing along with the rest of the seedy patrons at the bar and nearby tables.

"I told you to keep your paws off!" she said, brandishing the empty jug in front of her in a defensive way.

The wolf shook his head, eyes smarting from the wine in them. He shoved his chair back and lurched to his feet, causing the doe to start backing away. To her horror she realized she was cut off from escaping to kitchen door. She was backing straight toward the table where Tigermark, Joe, and Aramis were sitting as the wolf roared at her.

"Ya little tramp! All I did wuz pat yer on yer tail! I’ll do more’n pat when I git my paws on ya!"

He continued to advance on the doe as she looked around, so terrified that the three friends could smell her fear. The wolf’s friends had stood and now moved on the doe as well, preventing any notion of escape as they backed up their friend.

Tigermark leaned forward and whispered something to Aramis, who promptly faded back into the shadows in the corner of the room as he stood. The tiger now looked at Joe and said, "Looks like our assignment will have to wait a few moments. Keep Number One out of sight unless they pull weapons. If my read is right, they’re probably unarmed. Benny, the wolverine who owns this place, is a friend. I don’t want everything busted up if we can help it. Stand with me and follow my lead."

Joe nodded casually and tucked the toothpick back in his pocket. "All right, compadre, lead on."

As the doe backed past them, Tigermark and Joe stood almost as one and interposed themselves between the frightened lupine and the group of young furs. The move startled them, and they stopped and looked the tiger and coyote up and down a second.

"What do you think you’re doing, ya mangy ol’ furs! Get oudda the way an’ sit back down before ya get hurt," the wolf said, partly angry at the interruption, and partly trying to impress his friends with his bravado.

"Well, I’d like to sit back down, really I would. My lumbago is actin’ up, and my friend here gets awful grumpy when he hasn’t had his nap. Y’all just go sit back down and leave the young lady alone to do her work, and it’ll suit us fine to sit back down," Tigermark replied evenly, a slight smile on his muzzle.

The wolf looked even angrier, saying, "No way, ol’ fur! All I did wuz give ’er a friendly-like pat, and she durn near drowned me! She’s gonna pay fer that one way or another. Now sit down! We gotcha outnumbered, and it wouldn’t bother us none to hurt ya."

Tigermark had been counting the time off in his head. He noticed Benny had come to the door, but he was watching instead of acting, curiosity showing on his scarred muzzle. Tigermark had known the rough and tumble owner of the Hole in the Wall for several years, but circumstances had kept him from using the place to rendezvous with his friends until this assignment. Now the wolverine was watching, almost a smile on his muzzle, as he waited to see how the tiger handled this one.

"So, my young pup, it’s a fight, is it? Well, if so, we’ve got to play by the Hole in the Wall fight rules," Tigermark said casually.

Quickly picking up on the track Tigermark was taking, Joe said, "Yep, we gotta fight by the rules, or else the owner gets real mad and calls out the Orc Patrol."

The wolf looked startled at the mention of the fabled mercenary police force, so he stammered, "Uh, yeah, okay, rules. What’s da rules?"

"I’m glad you asked," Tigermark said.

"Yeah, I am, too," Joe said, causing the tiger to look sharply at him, and then wink.

"The rules," Tigermark said, booming his voice out in a theatrical manner, "Say we can’t fight unless there’s a prize for the winners, and doom for the losers. Now it seems to me the prize would be our lovely young lady here." Tigermark made a sweeping gesture towards the doe behind him, who gave him a dubious look and tried to back farther into the corner.

The wolf brightened at that and said, "Awright! That’s whut I’m talkin’ about!"

"Now as to a doom for the losers. Well, since a fight would break up the place a bit, it only seems fair that the doom should pay the owner back for his loss. Lessee, Ah, I’ve got it. You gents will see, if you turn around, the house cook and a young cat, both with meat cleavers in their paws. The doe is the cook’s daughter, you know, so he’ll really enjoy taking out his feelings on the losers. To pay the owner back for the damages, the losers will become part of the menu!" Tigermark said, a slightly insane sounding lilt to his voice.

"What!" said all four of the group as they looked quickly behind them. True to Tigermark’s word, the house cook stood at the door of the kitchen, holding a bloody cleaver and wearing an even bloodier apron. Beside him stood Aramis, also looking slightly crazed with a cleaver in his paw also.

They turned to look back at Tigermark and Joe. Both furs had very large, toothy grins on their muzzles. The young furs were strong, but Tiger and Joe were both over six feet tall, and had the calm, confident air of those who didn’t usually loose.

"So, my young friends, shall we see who gets the doe, and who becomes the lunch special?"

The group looked uncertainly at each other, when Joe suddenly shouted, "I call the Bear Steak!!"

The large ursine blanched and took a step back. That was all it took for the other three to loose their nerve, also. The group broke and ran for the door, urged on their way by Tigermark’s yell of, "Come back, I’m HUNGRY!"

The rest of the room broke out in laughter and applause as Joe and Tigermark took their seats. Aramis smiled and waved as the cook headed back for the kitchen. Benny smiled and nodded as Tigermark looked his way before heading back to his post by the main door.

Aramis rejoined them as they watched the doe head for the kitchen.

"So, that was some performance, you two," Aramis said as he sipped his drink.

"Just a little theater to enrich our young friend’s lives, by letting them keep them," Tigermark said amiably. Joe just looked at him and grinned as he put the toothpick back in his mouth.

"You were saying about our assignment before we were so rudely interrupted," Joe prompted.

"Yeah, what’s that ol’ lion at HQ got for us now?" Aramis asked, referring to their contact at the palace. Duke Leone was the King’s head of security, and he called upon the three friends to handle certain sensitive matters in the Western region of the kingdom. Tigermark lived the farthest East, in the rolling hill country on the Eastern side of the great, wide valley called the Badlands. Joe and Aramis lived on the Western side, and the trio met wherever was convenient to their assignment.

Tigermark looked around to be sure they wouldn’t be overheard, and then said, "You’ve both heard of the Sanders cult. They’re the ones who stay out in the desert and chant naked to the sun. Their leader, a shaggy poodle named Digray, says it gives them spiritual insight. I say it gives them a sunburn right through their fur to their brains. Anyway, they’ve been known to snatch an unwary traveler or local teen from time to time, trying to get attention and recruits, but they’re so out there the captives have usually walked away and are back home within a day or two."

"I’ve heard of them, but they haven’t done anything out my way," Joe said, frowning slightly in concentration, "But I take it something new has come up with them?" Aramis started to speak, but then thought the better of it and waited for Tigermark to go on.

"Yes, drastically. Digray is still leading the cult, but Duke Leone say’s that someone new has come into the cult, and the element he’s brought in is much more capable of mayhem. That brings us to why we’ve been called in," the tiger said.

"The King’s daughter," Aramis said, a note of certainty in his voice.

Tigermark and Joe both arched eyebrows at their young friend.

"And how did you know that?" Joe asked.

"Well, she was supposed to be up in Orgonis this week, but last I heard, she hadn’t arrived. I wondered when I got the mageflash to meet if it might be about that. The official word was that she’d been delayed in transit and would arrive by the weekend."

Tigermark nodded at Aramis’ answer, saying, "Your hunch was right. She and her entourage were ambushed crossing the Yucca Flat, and the Princess was kidnapped. The cult is holding her for ransom, saying they’ll convert her or worse unless the King proclaims them a legitimate religion, and pays them five million dolahs gold."

"That doesn’t sound like the cult, they all vow poverty, if I remember right. Partly why they chant naked," Joe said.

"That’s also the Duke’s thought. That’s why he thinks the cult’s been infiltrated," Tigermark said, and then he grinned broadly.

"What’s funny?" Aramis asked.

"Just thinking of what an old policefur said to me once. How do you talk to a naked lady?"

Joe and Aramis looked at each other, puzzled. They looked at Tigermark and shrugged.

"Eye contact. That came to mind as I thought about what we might encounter in a cult that chants naked to the sun in the sand." Tigermark said.

"What do they chant?" Joe said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Two things. ’Regular or Crispy’ and ’Help me, Rhonda’," Tigermark said as he snorted and stifled a laugh.

Just then the doe came up to them with a tray of drinks. She placed an extra large container of what each was drinking in front of them, saying, "Compliments from the house. To say thanks for not busting the place up."

She then went to each and hugged them soundly, planting a kiss on the side of their muzzles.

"And that’s to say thank you from me. Tigermark, Joe, and Aramis, my three heroes!" With that, she turned and went back to her duties, giving them a more enthusiastic wiggle of her tail as she went.

The three looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.

Finally, wiping his eye with the back of his paw, Joe said, "Well, heroes, shall we drink up and then get on with the mission? I’ll take the bottle with me, just in case."

"Fine, fine," said Tigermark, as he swallowed his tea in one gulp.

"Okay," said Aramis downing his drink and coughing a slight bit afterwards. As they rose to go, the young feline suddenly said, "Who did the Duke say infiltrated the cult?"

"You’ll recognize the name, we’ve crossed paths with him before. He’s a leopard/lion hybrid," Tigermark said as he laid a silver piece on the table for a tip.

Both Joe and Aramis together said the name. "Cutter Long."

"Yep, the one and only," Tigermark said.

Joe shrugged, saying, "Well, let’s get to it."

The three stopped and retrieved their weaponry, Joe with his arsenal of blades, Tigermark with his short sword, Bo staff, and longbow, and Aramis with his katana, crossbow, and an array of intricately carved arcane wands.

"We’ll call up the armor if it looks like we’ll need it," Tigermark said of the battle armor they had stowed in the magical hold space that Aramis could call up. With that, the three left the Hole in the Wall to find the Dotted Lion.

# # #

(29 April 2004)

“Are we there yet?” Aramis said lazily as he drowsed in the late afternoon sun.

“No,” both Joe and Tigermark wearily intoned.

Five minutes passed. “Are we there yet?” Aramis asked again.

“No,” the older furs repeated, with a slight rise of irritation in their voices.

Another five minutes passed. “Are we there now?”

“Aramis, if you ask that again I’m going to remove your environment protection bracelet,” Tigermark growled.

“So you’d rather that I suck up all of our fresh water and die of heat stroke before we even get within a league of the Princess’ last known location?” Aramis countered.

“Okay guys, knock it off,” Joe called from his position near the Beast’s head. Even though the team got along just like brothers, they also happened to fight just like brothers as well. “I had to put up with enough from my own pups, and I’ll be damned if I have to put up with the same from you two.”

Aramis chuckled. “Maybe we should have brought Annie along to keep us in line, then,” he said.

Joe laughed as well. “I think she’ll need TL’s assistance to deal with you two. You’re both a bigger pawful than three teenage pups.” The coyote winked at them. “And I speak from experience.”

Tigermark feigned a shudder. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said in a meek, childlike voice. “That mean ol’ TL is scah-wee! I’d rather be sat on by the Beast.”

“That can be arranged,” Joe said mischievously, giving the Beast a pat on the shoulder.

“I’ll pass, thank you very much.”

“Three of the King’s finest, and we’re more scared of our ladies than by any monsters or half-crazed cultists we might meet in the most God-forsaken land in the Kingdom,” Aramis said with a laugh.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve seen anything that would give us cause for concern so far,” Tigermark replied. “We’ve only met a small gang of goblin bandits—”

“Which the Beast ate,” Joe commented.

“—a juvenile wyrmling—”

“Which Beast also ate,” Aramis interjected.

“—and that ogre we encountered recently,” Tigermark concluded. “Which the Beast swallowed whole and then spat out it’s armor.”

The Beast belched mightily, the sound rumbling across the desert plain like thunder.

“Joe, do you not feed this creature enough?” Aramis asked.

“Do you want to know my grocery bill?” Joe replied “You’re welcome to split the cost with me.”

“No thanks,” Aramis said. He sighed as he lay back in his seat.

Five minutes passed. “Are we there yet?” he asked idly.

“Actually,” Tigermark answered, “I think we’re getting close.”

Aramis’ eyes snapped open at the unexpected answer and he sat up. He looked forward and saw the grotesque-looking cross-like structure with all sorts of dead animals hanging from it.

“Let me guess, they’re signs put up by the cult to warn others away?” Aramis asked.

“Actually, this is how they cook their meals,” the tiger answered. “The sun can make just about anything well-done in a day or two around here.”

“They certainly do look extra-crispy, don’t they?” Aramis quipped. “Well, if this is where their kitchen is, then the main camp shouldn’t be too far off, right?”

“Right. I think we should continue on foot from here, right, Joe?” Joe didn’t answer; he was staring off into the distance with a slightly blank look in his eyes.

“Joe, you okay?” Tigermark asked as he glanced over to where Joe was staring. He caught sight of what Joe was looking at and also became mesmerized by what he saw.

“Guys?” Aramis asked worriedly. “Guys! What’s go…ing…on?” His question trailed off as he too saw what held his companions in thrall. Three femmes, completely nude for all the world to see, stood about ten yards away staring back at the newcomers. Their fur was unkempt, but living in the desert had made them slim and muscular, giving them a wild yet strangely alluring look.

Joe was the first to recover. “You know, Tigermark,” he commented to his friend, “I actually expected a half-crazed cult that dances naked in the desert to be made up of only mangy males that have no life.”

Tigermark nodded. Aramis started chanting prayers to clear his mind of temptation. The Beast merely drooled, thinking that the extra-crispy morsels on the cross looked delicious.

(1 May 2004)

The mischievous grin returned to Joe’s muzzle. Turning his head slightly to glance at Tigermark out of the corner of his eye, he began to speak in a voice loud enough for Aramis to hear above his ridiculous chanting.

"Y’know this bowtie beast is a pain in the tail. I feed it, I groom it, I tend its wounds and injuries, and all I get in return is that..." Joe pointed to the dirt below the beast’s maw, where a three foot wide puddle of drool was slowly enlarging.

Tigermark exhaled slowly in contemplation. "Perhaps we should have obtained some horses before we left Many Rocks. At least they smell better..."

The coyote nodded, his tail wagging slowly beneath the hem of his cloak. "Of course, I can’t put my family aboard a horse, add two thousand pounds of cargo behind, and cross the desert in a matter of hours." He sighed in amusement. "I guess we all buy our own trouble, eh?"

Tigermark nodded absently. Joe could tell something was brewing in his head.

Tapping a leather boot to the deck firmly by way of getting the beast’s attention, Joe said "Oye, pendejo diablito. No necesitamos su ayuda más. Permanezca aquí hasta que volvemos." The deck shifted gently beneath their feet as the beast grunted in reply, settling down to wait quietly while the furs conducted their business. The drooling slowly tapered off, but did not entirely stop.

Tigermark suddenly turned to face Joe, his own voice rising above that of the still babbling Aramis, who in turn was still transfixed by the view ahead. "You should know about this, my friend," Tiger began. "After your pups pester you throughout a full day of travel, what’s the first thing they *always* want to know as soon as you arrive at your destination?" The tiger grinned, his fangs showing slightly as the tip of his tail twitched above his shoulder in amusement.

Joe’s eyes brightened as he stifled a laugh, matching Tigermark tooth for tooth in a grin of his own. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the younger feline behind them, who had stopped his chanting and was now hopping about slightly from foot to foot.

"Hey!" Aramis cried. "There’s no trees around here! What’s a fur gotta do to relieve himself?"

The tiger and coyote chuckled together as they turned to descend from the beast. Passing the young cat, Joe took a shoulder in his paw and guided the squirming feline towards the waiting earth below.

As the collected boots of our heroes touched the parched, dusty, alkali soil of "Garten des Teufels", the "Devil’s Garden", they became aware of the heat of the setting sun, even through their fur and clothing. They also became aware of the low humidity, as their noses and mouths almost immediately began to dry out.

The femmes held their position about ten yards away to the north. They made no move towards the assembled warriors, probably fearful of the beast, whose on-going hot exhalations continued to stir up small clouds of dust near it’s maw. Farther away to the northwest, perhaps about thirty five yards away, the cross stood silently, it’s gruesome appellations an olfactory presence even at this distance.

The three furs stood facing each other and extended right paws to touch between them. They bowed heads briefly.

"Lord," the tiger intoned quietly, "we give You thanks for our safe journey, and ask Your blessing upon the operation we are about to commence. It is in Your name and for Your glory that we undertake this mission. Grant us safe passage and a successful outcome." The three looked up at each other as they all said "Amen."

Tiger smiled. "Everybody geared up?" he asked as he retrieved his long bow from a storage container at the beast’s flank. Aramis and Joe stepped forward, the cat grabbing Joe’s great sword in one paw and his own Katana in the other. After he had turned and handed the great sword to the coyote, Aramis retrieved his own crossbow. After Joe had strapped the great sword in it’s sheath to his back, while the tiger and the cat were fitting weaponry, Joe stepped up to the container and selected a last, hammer-like device.

Aramis looked at it with uncertainty. "What is that?" he asked. The hammer head was roughly rectangular, about eight to ten inches in length and perhaps two to three inches square, with flat octagonal heads at both ends. He studied it for a moment, waiting for Joe to explain its presence.

Joe paused before replying. "It’s a short-handled spike maul," he said, fitting the handle within his belt.

"A ’spike moll’?" Aramis asked. "What does it do?"

Joe smiled a bit wistfully. "Ever hear of the High Iron, youngster?"

Aramis shook his head in the negative.

"This tool has a foot long handle holding a seventeen pound piece of forged D2 tool steel. In it’s original configuration it had a much longer handle, perhaps four feet or more, made of the finest rock maple hardwood. It was meant to drive large steel spikes into large wooden planks."

"What are you doing with it?" Aramis asked, a tease working its way into his voice. "Are we going to build a house?"

Joe shook his head, his expression taking on notes of sorrow and regret. "I learned of this hammer’s alternate uses from an angry, hating old bulldog named Shack." He sighed. "In it’s current configuration this is an excellent close-quarter weapon. I once put this through the shield of an Imperial Guardsfur and then halfway through his head."

Aramis blinked. The shields of the Imperial Guard were known to deflect direct strikes of the finest broad swords. He looked to Tigermark, who shrugged.

"A bit of magic from another life, another world," the tiger mused quietly.

The three of them spun in unison at a slight sound near the maw of the beast. There, not two feet away from the large puddle of the beast’s drool, stood a completely naked and quite well built, if thin, skunk. Her fur was gritty, dusty, and unkempt, but that did nothing to disguise her youth and attractiveness. Her white head fur was disarrayed by the wind, her blue eyes stared intently at the three of them.

Joe’s paw clamped gently over Aramis’ muzzle as he began his chanting again. In the ensuing silence Tigermark stepped forward, extending a paw towards the mephit.

The tiger’s eyes studied the young femme before him. She seemed somewhat familiar. He was certain he had seen her somewhere before. Her tail had an odd, uncharacteristic curl to the tip, and her face looked *very* familiar. With some degree of difficulty he ignored her other characteristics and spoke formally.

"Greetings. We have traveled far and are here to meet Digray. Do you have knowledge of his whereabouts?"

The mephit ignored his outstretched paw and took a step towards him. The eyes of Aramis and Joe widened considerably as the skunk wound her arms around the tiger’s torso in a very intimate hug. A sly smile crossed Joe’s muzzle as the skunk’s lips found the tiger’s muzzle, even as Tigermark tried to dodge her advances.

During the long, one-sided kiss Joe leaned over to whisper in Aramis’ ear. "Warrior’s code, my young friend. *None* of this gets home to TL, or anybody else. Comprendes?"

Aramis gulped and nodded after Joe released his muzzle. Meanwhile the tiger finally managed to somewhat gracefully extract himself from the skunk’s embrace.

The other two femmes, a gray fox and a Siamese cat, had quietly approached, and as if on cue each took a paw, the fox gently taking Aramis’ right paw as the Siamese took Joe’s left. The males did not resist, but their guard was up. Joe’s free paw sought the comfort of the silk-wrapped tanto within his vest, Aramis in his turn kept the crossbow he still held in his left paw at the ready.

The skunk spoke, finally, in a hoarse, raspy voice that was at once alluring and annoying. "We’ve been expecting you. My name is Demi. If you will be so kind as to follow us, we will attend to your every need and desire."

Aramis choked briefly. Joe looked at him, releasing his tanto’s silk as he raised his paw towards Aramis’ face. Aramis shot him an "I don’t need your help" look and remained silent. Joe smiled slightly at his friend as the tiger spoke.

"My name is Tigermark. We will accompany you if you will take us to Digray. If you cannot do this, we will find him ourselves..." he paused, looking at the mephit’s thin yet voluptuous figure. He suddenly glanced towards the sky and then returned his gaze to her blue eyes. "...alone!"

The skunk turned and spoke in a strange tongue to her companions, and then returned her attention to the tiger facing her. "We will take you to his place of residence." she said with a smile. "Will you come with us?" Her tail flipped briefly, an unintentional expression of impatience on her part, Tigermark noted. Interesting.

"Gentlefurs, shall we?" Tigermark gestured towards Demi, who smiled at Joe and Aramis as she took Tigermark’s paw and began walking northwest, towards the cross.

Joe drew his Siamese companion towards the flank of his beast. She recoiled slightly, but he reassured her with a smile and an open paw. Patting the beast’s smooth, cold exterior shell, Joe quietly said "Volveremos, primo. Compórtese."

The beast sighed in a slightly mechanical way, and in that wheezing sound Aramis caught hints of words: "Adíos, Jose." The beast continued to click quietly by way of finishing its good-byes. Joe and his still silent companion marched off after Tigermark and Demi.

"Damn," grumbled Aramis under his breath. "I still didn’t get to go..." He and the gray fox fell in step behind the coyote and the cat.

(4 May 2004)

As they walked past the cross and its shadow fell upon them, Tigermark glanced up at the carrion arranged there. He was quite relieved to note that none of its occupants were sentients. As they left it behind and the hot breeze carried its stench away, he looked closely at the skunkette who was leading him, following his own advice and keeping his gaze above her shoulder level. Demi was maybe 22, but showed some of the manner of someone who’d seen some hard times. She was more muscular than he’d first thought.

Joe was also examining his companion. Also young, somewhere in her twenties. He noted from her back and arms that, while appearing thin, she was quite well muscled, like an acrobat. He then noticed something that made him almost miss a step.

"Tiger!" he exclaimed.

"No es un problema, mi amigo. Estoy enterado del engaño," Tigermark said quickly over his shoulder. Demi had turned her head to look at him, but finding nothing amiss in his expression, continued on.

Joe looked back at Aramis, who was still quietly chanting under his breath. The young feline was also walking quite oddly, causing the young gray fox leading him to stumble a bit as she tugged him along.

"TM, I think we’d better let Aramis relieve himself before he causes the fox with him to hurt herself," Joe called out.

Demi stopped and looked up at Tigermark, her tail once again giving away her impatience.

After a few seconds, she smiled again, saying, "We are here to fulfill your every need and desire. If the young fur needs to attend to nature’s call, Sela will be glad to assist him in any way she can."

"I need for you all to turn your backs!" Aramis said, desperation sounding in his voice.

Demi spoke again in the strange language she had used before, sounding something like "Akbay urntay rounday osa Atkay ancay epeay." The three femmes turned away and struck pointedly sexy poses while waiting for Aramis to do his business, Sela looking slightly disappointed.

A relieved sigh and a large puddle later, they set off again. The trio of friends could now smell the scent of the cult’s encampment, and could make out the faint sounds of chanting and talk. They came to a small draw between two ridges, and Demi turned the group down the well-worn path in the center. Tigermark didn’t react, but he could see the tips of several sets of ears sticking up along the tops of both ridges. He counted discreetly, and when they reached the center he acted.

"Tenemos compañía! Diez en todos, cinco en cada lado detrás de los cantos!" Tigermark said as he quickly pulled his paw out of the skunkette’s grip. The furs he’d seen hiding came swarming over the ridge as Demi turned on him.

Whipping his cloak off, Tigermark used it to wrap the skunkette up and spin her to the ground. He planted his foot on the base of her tail so she couldn’t get up or spray him, and turned to meet the onslaught with his staff. Joe had started to draw his great sword, but he noticed that their attackers were a scraggly-looking band of naked male furs of various species. Here were the mangy-furred males with no life he’d referred to earlier. He decided the spike maul would be the better weapon, as he only had one paw free. His other paw was occupied with keeping the siamese who’d been leading him from clawing his eyes out as she hissed and spat. As the first one charged him, Joe waited until the mixed-breed hound raised his club and delivered a quick, crunching uppercut to his defenseless chin. The hound did an unintentional backflip to the sand and lay still. The second, a skinny opossum, tried a side swing, which Joe blocked with the maul as he kicked the pale fur in the gut. The opossum wheezed as his breath left him, and collapsed where he had stood.

Seeing she couldn’t get past his defensive blocks, the feline suddenly sprang away in a quick backflip. Joe was now busy dropping the hammer on the third fur to come his way. The ragtag band of furs were wielding wooden sticks and clubs, and not being very effective with either. Tigermark had put three on the ground without their getting any closer than the end of his staff. As he parried the thrust of a long stick from a skinny young jackal, he saw the siamese complete her first backflip and launch into a second. He realized her landing would put her right behind him, so he quickly calculated her trajectory and flipped his staff out to the side. As the cat unfolded from a somersault at the top of her flip, Tigermark flipped her legs out from under her and she landed with a loud *thump* on the sand. She tried to rise, shaking her head, and then collapsed back down and lay still, unconscious.

Both Joe and Tigermark found themselves under bombardment with rocks from two of the group as the third to remain standing prowled out of their reach, looking for an opening. Joe was having no problem deflecting the rocks thrown his way, but the attacking furs were being very indiscriminate in their targeting, causing Tigermark to have to use his staff to prevent both himself, Demi, and the unconscious siamese from being hit. Having enough of that, the tiger deftly deflected one paw-sized rock straight at the prowling fur, dropping him like, well, a rock. The next stone to come his way he caught and fired back at it’s thrower. The otter had just stood back up from retrieving another stone when the one Tigermark zipped back at him caught him squarely in the chest and knocked the wind out of him.

Taking a cue from the tiger, Joe caught a smaller stone and threw it back at the rabbit who had thrown it. Having seen what happened to his fellow, the lupine caught Joe’s rock and threw it back at him. A short volley ensued, until the rabbit missed and took the hit right between the eyes. That finished the last of the group, creating a mass of moaning or out-cold furs between them.

They both looked toward Aramis, and had to stifle a laugh. The young feline had a large silk pawkerchief in his paws and was trying to subdue Sela with it, they were fighting and wrestling so fast that they were both engulfed in a cloud of dust. Arms, legs and tails could be seen flailing out of the cloud. One second, Aramis was on top, the next, Sela. This was accompanied by a most hilarious mixture of hisses, yowls, yips and howls.

After another moment, Aramis finally managed to tie the vulpine’s paws together. He stood up as the vixen sat up and glowered at him.

"You okay Aramis? Need any help?" Joe said wryly as he tucked the maul into his belt. He walked over to inspect the pile of naked furs and smiled slightly with satisfaction.

"Looks like we didn’t kill any of them," the coyote said amiably.

"Good. These look like regular Sanders. Our ladyfriends here, though, are another matter," Tigermark said. Looking down at Demi in her awkward position, he said, "All right, sister, I want answers, and I want them now!"

She managed to crane her neck around and say, "You can go to H--! Hey, what’s that!"

Tigermark had brought his tail around and was dangling its tip just out of the skunkette’s reach. On it was an ankle bracelet and three earrings, one of which didn’t match the other two. The skunkette reached up and felt her ears, and wiggled her ankle. She then began to struggle, but Tigermark’s weight applied to his foot’s position on her rump kept her firmly to ground.

"Your no cultist, missy, and no subservient serving wench, either. Since you took the chance while you had me liplocked back there to try to steal my belt dagger and coinpurse, I thought I’d return the favor. It’s amazing what a tiger’s tail can do when it’s been trained properly."

Joe and Aramis were looking on a bit perplexed themselves about how the tiger got the items off his captive.

"Okay," Aramis said, "I can see the ankle bracelet, maybe even the earrings, but where did the third earring come from?"

"That was your tail! I thought you were just glad to see me!" Demi spat out. Tigermark fixed her with a steady gaze and she looked back down at the sand and refused to say any more.

"Welp," Joe said, "I don’t think she wants to talk. Why don’t we see if we can get one of this lot semi-coherent and ask them what gives."

Tigermark glanced up at the sky and then said, "Better still if we can get them mobile toward their camp. The sun’s heading for overhead, and I don’t want any of them dying of sunstroke laying out here."

Aramis sighed and said, "Okay, I know I was kind of freaked out by their being naked. I wouldn’t look at them. How did you know they were fakes?"

Tigermark smiled and said, "Remember that vow of poverty? Cultists wouldn’t be wearing jewelry like this." He rattled the items he held on his tail. Aramis nodded and smiled, finding he could finally look at the ladies without chanting. The other two were also wearing jewelry.

"Plus it doesn’t hurt that you saw the ambush before they could spring it. I swear, Tiger, I sometimes think you’re part bloodhound. Did you smell them?" Joe said, grinning.

"Nope, no hounds in my family. I saw their ears above the ridgeline as we approached."Returning his attention to the mephit Tigermark continued. "Now Demi, if that’s your real name, I have three things to ask, and if the answers suit me, I’ll return these to you," Tigermark said, rattling the jewelry on his tail.

She looked over her shoulder at him, a speculative look on her face. Deciding that it wouldn’t do her any good to be stubborn now, she nodded.

"First of all, is that Digray’s camp we were heading for before you detoured us into the ambush?"

"Yes," was all she said.

"Is Princess Fallona in that camp?" Tigermark asked, still slowly waving the jewelry out in front of the skunkette.

With a sigh Demi said, "No, I don’t believe she is."

Now it was Tigermark’s turn to sigh, saying, "Okay, a deals a deal, last question. How long have you belonged to Cutter Long?"

"I DON’T BELONG TO HIM! I’M A FREE FUR!" Demi shouted, causing a small sandstorm in front of her muzzle.

Tigermark smiled, and Demi realized that’s she’d just confirmed what he had guessed. True to his word, Tigermark dropped the jewelry off the tip of his tail into Demi’s open paw. The skunkette looked at the jewelry, and then back up at him, a slight smile now on her muzzle.

Tigermark smiled back and said, "If I can trust you not to spray me, I’ll let you up. You can see to your friend--"

"Cindy," Demi interrupted.

"Okay, you can see to Cindy, and help her back to camp. Now, are you going to cooperate?" Tigermark said. His weight had not shifted one bit as he waited for her answer.

"Okay, I promise," She replied with a demure pout.

Tigermark didn’t move as he said, "And you can drop the act, too."

"All right!" she said, exasperated.

"That’s better," Tigermark said as he removed his foot from her rump. She rolled over and flipped her tail out flat behind her. She quickly donned her jewelry, except for the third earring, which she kept in her paw. She wasn’t about to put it back in its usual spot with them looking on. Tiger waked over to where Joe and Aramis were getting the ragtag band of ambush furs back on their feet.

"Any that can’t walk, you’ll have to carry them," Joe was saying to the group that was slowly, sullenly getting to its feet. Aramis had hoisted Sela to her feet, and was standing beside her holding onto her elbow to make sure she didn’t make any sudden moves.

"Ready to move ’em out?" Tigermark asked.

"Yep," said Joe, "You want to lead the way? Aramis and I will ride herd on this lot."

Tigermark glanced at Aramis, and saw that he was now clear-eyed, and apparently clear-headed, as he’d stopped the chanting and was looking over the group of beaten furs.

"Yes, I’ll lead the way, and I’ll keep Demi occupied by having her assist Cindy. That’s the siamese, Joe," Tigermark said as he turned to go back to the lady furs. He missed seeing Joe blush slightly.

"All right, Demi, we’re going on to Digray’s camp. No funny stuff, though. We can find it by sound and scent from here," Tigermark said.

Demi looked up from where she had Cindy sitting up. The siamese was looking very dazed.

"I don’t think she can walk," Demi said.

"Then you can carry her, or let her lean on you," Tigermark said. He then watched Demi heft the feline to her feet with more ease than he’d have expected. He was glad now that he’d not gone to help her, as she could easily have been tricking him.

"Let’s go," the tiger said, and the group set out for the camp.

As they walked slowly down the draw, Tigermark asked Demi, "You look very familiar to me. Do you have relatives in Column-BS?"

"The King’s treasury city, with all the IRS agents? Yeah, I have a cousin there who looks a lot like me. Works for some entertainment business or something. How’d you know?" The skunkette replied.

"My cousin owns that business," Tigermark said simply.

They walked on a bit further, and Demi said, "I want to thank you. I saw you keeping those rocks from hitting me and Cindy. You didn’t have to do that."

"Yes I did. You were my responsibilities at the time. I couldn’t let you get hurt," Tigermark said, his eyes on the trail ahead.

"Y’know," Demi said, feeling she ought to say more to thank him, "Cutter said to watch out if a tiger and a coyote showed up together, guess he meant you. The cat traveling with you threw me off."

Tigermark just nodded. Aramis hadn’t been with them more than about three years, and Cutter wouldn’t have known about him yet.

"I really am a free fur, you know. I just joined up with him because he said we could make some easy money. So far, no money, and it’s been far from easy," Demi said, surprising Tigermark with her candidness.

"I take it walking around naked in the desert wasn’t in the job description? If you’d feel better, you can put your clothes on when we get to the camp," Demi nodded and Tigermark continued, "You need to choose your bosses more carefully. You’ll find in the end that Cutter helps no one and shares with no one but Cutter."

"Yeah, I got that feeling just now when I realized how overmatched our ambush was. He didn’t care about us as long as we stopped whoever the King sent after his daughter. How’d he know it’d be you?" the skunkette asked.

"He knows we’ve worked for the King in some, ah, delicate situations before. Figured we’d be who he called for on this. The King doesn’t want it getting around that a crazy cult could kidnap, or worse yet convert, his daughter."

"Humpf, the only thing she might convert to is non-virginal, the way she was making eyes at Cutter when he took off with her to his camp," Demi said, and then she cursed loudly.

"Problem?" Tigermark asked, now smiling broadly.

"Nevermind! Geez, Cutter was right, you could charm and talk a wyrm out of its treasure! How does he know you, and you him?" she asked.

Tigermark thought a moment, and the decided it would do no harm in telling her.

"Cutter was once in the King’s service. Special Operations forces. Seems he didn’t want to set up militia forces for the King in the outlands, because it was more profitable to set up bandit gangs. Joe, the coyote back there and I were sent to stop him."

"I take it you did," she said.

"Yes, but Cutter got away. We’ve been crossing paths and swords from time to time ever since."

Demi started to speak again, but at that moment they rounded a turn and the camp came into view. It was a ragtag conglomeration of tents, small shacks built from sun-bleached wood and pitch, and in the center a large object that towered over the scene. They could now clearly hear the chanting of the cultists gathered around it. There were two groups, one chanting, "Regular or crispy, ya want fries with that?" back and forth to each other while the other, smaller group of furs kept up a steady sing-song of, "Help me, Rhonda, help, help me, Rhonda."

Tigermark took in the monument, recognizing it as the cult’s symbol. A large circle, with a dividing line down the center, and another splitting off from each side of the middle line at a forty five degree angle halfway down.

“Right, then,” he said, turning to Demi. “I’m afraid that this is where we must part ways.”

“You’re not coming with us into the village?” Demi asked, a look of puzzlement on her face.

“No,” Tigermark replied with a knowing grin, “that would make things too easy for Cutter. I think he would be fairly disappointed if we just showed up on his doorstep. Besides, it doesn’t make my job any easier, if you know what I mean.”

“So you’re just letting us go, where we can tell Cutter that you’re here?”

“Cutter’s smart enough to realize that we’re here without you telling him anything,” Tigermark said, thumbing over his shoulder at their would-be ambushers. “Feel free to tell him the entire truth. I think he doesn’t deserve to be deceived, don’t you think?” he added with a chuckle.

“Perhaps,” Demi replied. “See ya around, tiger,” she said as she readjusted Cindy’s arm over her shoulders and started walking towards the village.

“So,” Joe said when the last of the cultists had entered the village, “we have about six hours to kill until sundown.” A mischievous smile spread across his muzzle. “What say we make camp and figure out how we’re going to give Cutter a night he’ll never forget?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tigermark said with a grin.

“Yeah, sure,” Aramis replied somewhat distractedly.

“Something wrong, Aramis?” Joe asked, then grinned hugely at the deep crimson that colored his cheeks. “I thought you got over seeing those femmes in their fur. You must be more shy than we thought.”

“It’s not that,” Aramis said. “It’s just...oh, nevermind.”

“C’mon, what is it?” Tigermark inquired as they started looking for a place to make camp. “I promise we won’t laugh, right Joe?”

“Warrior’s honor,” Joe replied solemnly, holding up his right paw.

Aramis eyed the older furs suspiciously, then sighed. “Well, as they were leaving, Sela offered to teach me how to bind someone’s paws properly.” The cat grimaced. “Then she licked my ear. Ick.”

Joe’s paws immediately clamped his muzzle, his shoulders trembling in barely contained mirth.

“Hey! Stop laughing!” Aramis cried indignantly.

“Oh, Aramis,” Tigermark said as he clapped a paw on Aramis’ shoulder. “We still have much to teach you about the world and how it works!”

# # #

Hmm, one and a half water skins full and enough food for three days, with careful rationing, Fallona thought to herself. If Cutter keeps feeding me like this, I might be able to make a break for it in another three days. She picked up the butter knife she managed to swipe earlier, it’s blade honed to a sharp edge through days of diligent sharpening on rocks she found near the tent. Her chances of succeeding were dismal, but better if she died of thirst out in the desert than have her father lose face paying a princess’ ransom to a lowlife and a traitor.

Movement near the tent that held her prisoner caught her attention. She quickly hid her precious supplies under the carpet and knelt down amongst the luxurious pillows that her captor had provided for her. Lowlife bandit or not, he made sure that she was comfortable. Regardless, she still found it insulting, as if Cutter Long were mocking her with such luxury.

The tent flap opened, and the leopard-lion hybrid strode in, wearing nothing more than a simple cloth kilt that ended just above his knees. Fallona nearly gasped. No matter how many times she saw him, she never ceased to be amazed by his beauty. Cutter was tall, lithe, and powerfully built, Herculean muscles perfectly chiseled underneath his well-groomed fur in a way that not even a master sculptor could hope to recreate. His mane gleamed in the sunlight like a field of golden wheat, which he drew back in a simple ponytail. But his eyes were the most enchanting of all. Eyes that shown with a fierce and cunning intelligence of a fur who had outsmarted one of the most powerful kings in the world. He was, in short, a god upon the earth. Fallona was both enchanted and repulsed by this creature known as Cutter Long. She both admired his beauty and intelligence and despised his wicked heart. She was in love with this fur, and she hated him all the more for it.

Cutter approached her and bowed humbly. “Your Highness,” he said with utmost respect, but she couldn’t help but hear a mocking tone behind the façade of fealty.

She stilled her fluttering heart and sniffed indignantly. “Enough of your empty pleasantries, Cutter,” she snapped. “What do you want?”

“I am wounded by your belief that I, one of your humble subjects, would only visit Your Highness when I desire something from you,” Cutter replied. The insincerity was palpable in his tone, and he made no effort to hide it.

“I expect nothing more from traitorous scum like you,” Fallona said harshly, giving him a glare that had sent many nobles scurrying away to change their britches.

Cutter was unperturbed. “Yes, I suppose I haven’t done much to disprove that reputation,” he said with a small smile. “However, I am here to inform you, and nothing more.”

Fallona sighed with exasperation. “Fine,” she growled, “Speak, and be done with it.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Cutter replied, bowing again to further annoy the princess. “I wish to inform you that Your Highness’ father, His Majesty the King, has dispatched three of his best agents to rescue Your Highness.”

Fallona blinked, surprised that Cutter would tell her this. She quickly recovered and sat up straighter. “Was that ever in any doubt?” she asked, maintaining an indignant air. “Is that all you wish to tell me?”

“Oh no, there is more,” Cutter answered. “As Your Highness well knows, this tent is warded to keep any unwanted guests from ever finding it. Your Highness also knows that I’ve relied on the remote location of this tent to discourage you from any escape attempts. However, it would seem that recent events have forced me to undertake more thorough measures.” Cutter snapped his fingers, and sand erupted through the carpets at the rear of the tent.

Fallona whirled around to see the sand take on the form of a large bear. In its sandy grasp were the supplies that Fallona had painstakingly accumulated over the past week.

“No!” she screamed as the sand bear ripped the water skins apart and ground the food into the sand.

“Actually, I’m rather disappointed—insulted, even—that you planned to leave us, after all that we have done for you to ensure your comfort,” Cutter tsk’ed, shaking his head slowly.

“You bastard!” Fallona snarled, unsheathing her claws and leaping for his throat.

But Cutter was too fast for her. He quickly grabbed her wrists and swept her feet out from under her. Fallona suddenly found herself lying atop a pile of pillows with her paws and legs pinned to the ground. Cutter was kneeling beside her, an almost feral grin on his face.

“Very bold of you, Princess,” he said, “but you have no hope of defeating me by yourself.”

“Let me go!” Fallona screamed, struggling mightily against Cutter’s vise-like grip, but to no avail. She gasped in surprise as she felt the plume of Cutter’s tail gently brush her face.

“Listen Princess, and listen well,” Cutter said softly but with a discernable edge, his nose almost touching hers. “I have more sand golems patrolling the desert around this tent, and there is no way you will be able to escape or have anyone come to rescue you. The only way you’re leaving this tent is when your father pays me your ransom. Otherwise, you’ll just have to be content living here. Princess or not, you’re my prisoner, and nofur ever escapes from Cutter Long. Do we understand each other?”

Fallona’s heart was pounding, part of her in ecstasy over Cutter being so close to her that his scent filled her nostrils, part of her in absolute terror of what he might do to her, and part of her wanting to rip his throat out. She took a deep breath to steady herself and managed a weak nod.

Cutter smiled at the Princess. “Good,” he said, releasing her and standing up. “Now be a good girl and stay put, okay?” He dismissed the sand golem and walked towards the tent flap. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have guests that I need to get ready for,” he said over his shoulder, then walked out of the tent.

Fallona sat up and took several deep breaths. Dammit, she thought, now I have his scent all over me. She curled up in the pillows, praying that that brave knights her father sent would save her soon.

# # #

“The sun’s set,” Joe said from the mouth of the cave he and the others had taken shelter in.

“Good,” Aramis said, throwing a dark green cloak around his shoulders and fastening it with a brooch made from emerald set in silver. “I was starting to get bored from sitting around all day.”

“You sure you can handle yourself out there Aramis?” Tigermark asked as he handed the younger feline his katana.

Aramis smiled as he stuffed the sheathed blade in his belt. “I’ve been skulking around places more dangerous than a cult’s camp years before I joined the King’s furs,” he said confidently.

“Maybe, but Cutter is as dangerous as they come,” Joe warned. “He’s been on the King’s Most Wanted list for about ten years now, and we’ve still to catch the bastard.”

“No heroics, Aramis,” Tigermark said sternly. “Just go in, find the princess, inform us and hole up ‘til we get there. Got it?”

“Understood,” Aramis replied solemnly. He adjusted his arcane bag containing his equipment and tested the messenger gem he wore around his neck. Satisfied that it worked, he turned to his teammates. “I’m ready when you guys are,” he said.

“Go,” Joe commanded.

Aramis gave a parting salute and dashed out into the night. Immediately his cloak changed color, blending in with the dark landscape.

He stopped when he caught sight of the glow of campfires in the cultists’ village. He ducked behind a rocky outcropping and knelt down. Pulling out a small, oddly cut gem from his bag, he drew a small circle in the sand and set the gem down in the center. He clasped his paws together and muttered a few words from an ancient language under his breath.

The gem began to glow softly, small rays of light emanating from various facets onto the surface of the circle. Almost all of the rays clustered near the edge of the circle, with only two pointing off in the opposite direction, moving steadily around him.

Joe and Tigermark are on the move already, Aramis noted to himself. Best not to waste any time. He clasped his paws together, this time in prayer, and began to speak in his own language.

“Lord of all Creation,” Aramis said softly, “please grant me the assistance of Your creatures to aid me in my quest. My goal is noble and my intentions are honorable, but I cannot do this alone. Please render whatever aid You see fit. Amen.”

“Someone called?” a voice above him asked. Aramis turned around and saw a raven perched on the rocks behind him.

“Wow, the Big Guy works fast,” Aramis commented.

“Of course,” the raven answered. “Did you expect that ‘ask and you shall receive’ also meant a wait of four to six weeks?”

“Well, just not instantaneous,” Aramis replied. He said a silent “thank you” to his master, then turned around to face the raven. “I was wondering if you knew where Princess Fallona was being held prisoner.”

“Oh, of course I know where Princess Fallona is being held,” the raven said. “I also know all of the magical wards Cutter Long has placed, as well. But before we talk about that...” the raven glanced down at Aramis’ bag, “...you wouldn’t happen to have a few seeds or berries on you, would you?”

Aramis chuckled and reached into his pouch, pulling out a small pawful of seeds and bread crumbs. “Not payment, just a donation,” he said, repeating the jingle of divinely sent helpers everywhere.

“Oh, thank you,” the raven said around beakfuls of crumbs. “This really hits the spot. Food’s been a bit scarce lately.”

“I’ll bet. Now, about the princess?”

“Oh yes, of course,” the raven said as it jumped off into the air. “Follow me!”

Aramis grabbed the sensor gem and placed it in his bag before following the raven. It flew around the village into a very sandy part of the desert about fifteen minutes’ walk away. Finally it landed atop a small dune.

“If you concentrate hard, I’m sure you’ll be able to find the magical aura of the tent’s invisibility ward,” the raven said. “There are just two more things you’ll have to worry about.”

“Which are?” Aramis asked as he buried a beacon stone in the sand. Joe and Tigermark should be able to find this place after I give them the go-ahead, Aramis thought.

“First of all,” the raven began, “Cutter put a nasty ward on the tent itself, so you’re going to have to dispel that if you want to get in. Otherwise you’re in for a shocking experience.”

“Cutter always did have an electrifying personality,” Aramis quipped. “What’s the last thing?”

“Cutter managed to get ahold of several sand golems, and they continually patrol the area here.” The raven pointed to a lone shrub. “As soon as you past that bush there, the golems will find out where you are and pop up from the sand around you. Not a lot of fun.”

“Can they detect small creatures?” Aramis asked.

“You mean smaller than me?” the raven asked. “Probably not; they’re not that smart. Why? What do you have in mind?”

Aramis pulled two bracelets from his bag. Both were carved in the likeness of a small snake biting its own tail and had small rubies where the eyes would be. “Oh, I have a couple things I found in a trade meet up north,” he said with a smile.

“Well, if that’s all you’ll be needing, I’ll be on my way,” the raven said.

“You’ve been a big help, thanks,” Aramis replied.

“You’re welcome,” the raven said, taking to the sky. “It’s been nice working with you, young Aramis,” it called as it disappeared into the night sky.

“Likewise,” Aramis said softly as he put on one of the bracelets. He held the other in his paws and spoke a single word in a forgotten language. The ruby eyes gleamed red and the metal slowly became scales. The small albino snake coiled in Aramis’ paws and gave him a mute and unblinking stare. Aramis concentrated, and found that he could see through the snake’s eyes due to the companion bracelet he wore. He could also see heat and magical sources as well, an added bonus.

“You’re just full of tricks, aren’t you?” he said to the snake. The snake said nothing.

Aramis set the snake down and pulled a small rod out of his bag. He jammed it into the sand and pressed a button on it, causing small spikes to snap into place. If any unexpected visitors show up in its radius, he’ll know.

Now, he said to the snake, go seek the most powerful ward in the local region. The snake slithered away, with Aramis following its progress.

Soon a large, bright object appeared in the snake’s vision, obviously magical. Good, Aramis thought to himself in satisfaction. Now let’s see if there are any chinks in the armor. He had the snake circle the tent, but there wasn’t any way to slide under the tent flaps.

Then an idea came to him. Well, let’s try it, Aramis thought. Snake, can you burrow under the sand? The snake replied by digging into the sand and moving under the tent flap.

Well, that answers that question...

The snake burrowed to the surface and slithered cautiously out from under the rug. Before it was a young lioness, asleep on a pile of pillows.

What luck, Aramis thought, smiling to himself. Okay, Snake, wrap yourself around her wrist and turn back into a bracelet.

The snake complied, and Aramis now had a telepathic connection to the princess.

<Princess Fallona?> Aramis said mentally, trying to rouse her. <Your Highness, please wake up.>

<What...?> the princess said slowly as she woke up from her sleep. Aramis felt a small surge of confusion and panic as she became aware of her situation. <Who are you? And where did this bracelet come from?>

<I am Aramis Dagaz, one of the King’s agents. I’m here to rescue you,> Aramis said. <I’m communicating telepathically to you through the bracelet you’re wearing.>

<My father sent you? Oh thank God you’re here!> a flood of relief washed over Aramis as he felt the princess’ joy at being found.

<Don’t worry, Your Highness, we’ll have you home in no time,> Aramis said. <Are you all right?>

<Yes, now that you’re here,> the princess replied happily.

<Okay, just sit tight and let me know if anything happens,> Aramis instructed. <Aramis out.>

Aramis touched the messenger gem that hung around his neck. “Joe, Tigermark, I’ve found the princess,” he said. “I’ve buried a beacon stone about half a mile away from her prison. Waiting on you, guys.”

<Acknowledged, Aramis,> Joe replied. <We’ll be there in two shakes of a pup’s tail. Hole up ‘til we get there. Joe out.>

“Acknowledged, Joe, Aramis out,” Aramis said. He smiled to himself. "Hopefully the rest of this will go off without a hitch," he said aloud.

“Don’t congratulate yourself just yet Rookie,” a voice said behind him. Aramis spun around and found himself looking up at a powerfully built spotted lion. The hybrid’s claws wrapped themselves around Aramis’ throat so fast that the young cat’s mind didn’t register the movement until after it was too late.

“You’re not the only one who can see magic auras and slip around wards,” the huge feline said with a grin, lifting Aramis up off his feet. “You have to get up mighty early in the morning to outsmart Cutter Long, and I’m a fairly early riser.”

# # #

Tigermark and Joe had been circumventing the cult’s camp in the dark of the desert night. They had been absolutely quiet, stealing quickly through the gullies and arroyos that ran across the Devil’s Garden, homing on the beacon that Aramis had set out earlier. Every few hundred yards or so Tigermark would stop and remove a small gem from his cloak that Aramis had given him earlier, hold it before him, and stare at the dim color it displayed in the dark of the moonless night. Blue for left, yellow for right.

He had just returned the gem to his pocket and returned to their fast trot when he stopped quite suddenly, causing Joe to bump into him from behind.

"What th..." Joe muttered quietly as he rubbed his nose. "What’s the matter, T?" Joe looked at his friend, who was standing stock still, staring at the horizon ahead of them.

Tigermark didn’t respond. He was concentrating on something, holding his breath, eyes staring intently into the darkness, tail still, ears up and forward. His right paw came up slowly, horizontal to the ground, and pumped the air gently three times. He was telling Joe to stand quiet and wait.

A flash of fear coupled with adrenalin had coursed through the base of Tigermark’s brain. Aramis was in trouble. There had been that flash of thought, and then nothing. The crystals they used to communicate with each other would not work unless they were enabled by each user. Tigermark could not call Aramis, the best he could do was leave his crystal enabled and hope Aramis would call him.

That was a problem in itself. As any new inductee to the Realm of The Arcane knew, one could trace a communications crystal’s signal, provided they had one of their own. It was simple tracking, very similar to the homing gems he and Joe were using even now to find the Princess. So for every second they left their crystals enabled, they were that much more likely to find themselves being tracked.

Tigermark held up two fingers of his right paw and wiggled them slightly, then he pointed with his index finger towards the ridge to their right. He then wiggled the index finger vertically, and then pointed to the ridge to their left.

Something’s up, Joe thought. Judging from T’s actions we’re not in transit any more, we’re a reconnaissance in force. He waited quietly until Tigermark turned to look at him, and then raised an eyebrow by way of asking a question. The white tiger shrugged his shoulders and held three fingers up, wiggling them slightly, and then took his other paw and clamped it over the three wiggling fingers.

Aramis is in trouble, Joe thought. He nodded to the tiger while balling his right paw in a fist. Holding his other paw pads up flat, he slammed his fist gently into it, then pointed with the paw that had been a fist towards his ridge to their right. The white tiger nodded slightly. Joe turned and trotted silently up the scarp towards the ridgeline, trusting that Tigermark would likewise be climbing his own ridge.

# # #

Aramis could feel the sharp claws digging into his throat. He was hanging in mid-air, held aloft by the huge dotted lion that was staring at him.

"So, who are you, my young and foolish friend?" the lion rumbled at him. Cutter Long moved his wrist slightly, turning Aramis like a sack of potatoes, looking him over. His scrutiny was quick but thorough. It ended abruptly when he caught sight of the small snake bracelet on Aramis wrist.

"What have we here?" the lion asked with a little more volume and curiosity in his voice. "A magi telepath, eh?" The lion held Aramis at arms length. "Who are you?" he demanded slowly while his other paw reached for the bracelet. Cutter roughly grabbed the bracelet with his free paw, pulling it from Aramis wrist with effort. The paw about Aramis’ throat tightened it’s grip.

"I’m not going to ask you again, youngster..." Cutter paused as Aramis opened his mouth to speak.

"My name," Aramis said with effort, "is Aramis Dagaz."

The paw tightened even more. Aramis could feel the claws puncturing the skin beneath the fur of his neck, drawing blood. "Well, Aramis Dagaz, you’ve just made the last mistake of your short life."

Aramis grinned. "I don’t think so," he said hoarsely. Suddenly gaining strength in his voice, Aramis spoke a single word in the ancient language of the bracelet in Cutter’s free paw.

The bracelet suddenly became white-hot as it flashed brilliantly, disappearing while it set the fur of Cutter Long’s paw on fire. In the lion’s momentarily distracted state Aramis quickly placed his feet against the lion’s chest and pushed with the strength of ten tigers, propelling Cutter backwards as his grip about Aramis’ throat loosened. The result was that Aramis back-flipped in mid air, landing on his feet just out of arm’s reach in front of Cutter, who was staggering backwards while staring at his blazing paw.

There was then a much brighter flash as Cutter encountered his own ward protecting the perimeter around the invisible tent. Thousands of volts of electricity materialized in thin air behind him, arced along his tail, and traveled through his legs to the ground. The dotted lion screamed in pain and rage as all his muscles contracted and contorted, throwing his body to the sand, stunned, partially paralyzed. His flaming paw buried itself in the sand, extinguishing the fire.

"You worthless houscat," Cutter roared into the dust. "Run while you can. I will find you, and when I do I will have no mercy." Cutter pushed himself up on his good paw, rising unsteadily to his knees. He stared at Aramis, a horifying sneer on his muzzle as an eerie blue light coalesced about his head.

"Run far, Aramis Dagaz. When next we meet I will surely have your head!" The blue haze surrounding Cutter’s head suddenly exploded outward, knocking Aramis to the sand. Aramis rolled with the impact of the telekinetic assault, rising to his feet once again with his katana in his paws.

Cutter was struggling to his feet, staggerinig from the after-effects of his electrocution. He shook his mighty head savagely for a moment, cursing his arcane weakness at the hands of the ward’s discharge. He bellowed a string of sounds that were incomprehensible to Aramis, and suddenly the sand beneath their feet quaked.

Aramis glanced about his position quickly as sand erupted from half a dozen different places around them. Sand golems began to rise from below the surface, emitting hideous noises as their paws slowly rose towards Aramis like accusatory talons. Sensing his odds changing in a very fluid environment, Aramis smiled calmly and bowed slightly towards the enraged lion who was even now trying to stagger towards him, arms and claws reaching again for his throat.

"We will meet again, Cutter," Aramis said pleasantly. "Very soon."

With that Aramis wrapped himself in his cloak and held his katana aloft in his right paw. Bringing the blade down swiftly, he suddenly disappeared. It wasn’t a complex spell, Cutter would have easily seen through it had his head not been full of electrical charge at that moment. It was enough to fool the golems though, they started to wander about aimlessly looking for him while Aramis stole away towards the cult camp, looking for his friends.

# # #

Joe ran hunched over, trying to hug the terrain below the ridgeline and present as small a target as possible. He had been trying to move across the draw towards the ridge Tigermark was working along. Opposite him he could see three figures moving slowly, a pair trailing Tigermark by about twenty yards on the opposite ridgeline. He couldn’t risk calling to his friend, he had become aware of at least one fur trailing him as well. He couldn’t see the tracker behind him in the dark, but he knew that he was there. The enemy had the wind working for him, whoever he was, as he was downwind from Joe. There was no scent for Joe to work with. He wasn’t a very good tracker, this fur behind him. He seemed to make little effort to conceal himself, making foolish noises with his clothing and stepping on the occasional twig of sage as he moved. So far Joe had been able to identify only one group of footstep sounds behind him.

Joe knew he would have to get rid of this fur trailing him before he could come to Tigermark’s aid. Bringing a third enemy on behind him while he tried to take on two ahead would be foolish. He couldn’t understand why his friend seemed to be unaware of the fact that he was being followed, this uncertainty only served to drive Joe harder and faster into the draw, where he could find some cover and take out the fur trailing him.

Some large clumps of sage served well enough. Joe carefully picked his way over stones in the wash at the bottom of the draw, hopping over the sandy or dusty areas, hiding his tracks. Attaining the sage in a roundabout manner, he crouched in the dark and drew his tanto. Joe waited silently, holding his breath.

Within a minute or so a smallish, dark colored fur came into view. He was hunched over, studying the trail Joe had tried to disguise so well. As Joe’s enemy slowly passed by the sage clump the tracker’s head suddenly jerked up and towards him. Their eyes locked.

Joe lunged at him, the tanto free and swinging towards his victims throat. As Joe’s left arm closed around his target’s upper torso alarms went off in his head, causing him to make a critical, half-second pause in his attack. It was all the tracker needed.

As Joe’s right paw guided the tanto towards the tracker’s throat his aim was suddenly deflected by an armored arm blocking the thrust. The tracker half turned to the left as Joe’s left arm closed tightly about his torso. But the tracker wasn’t a male. The alarms in Joe’s head persisted. This tracker wore form-fitting armor which disguised the form of the fur within, but Joe’s nose told him that he knew this fur, and knew her to be female.

The tracker froze. Even with the hesitation and resultant deflection, the razor edge of Joe’s tanto had bored in to it’s target and was now resting gently against the fur of her jaw, just below her right ear. The barest twitch of the knife would lay her throat open from her jaw to her shoulder. She caught and held her breath, not resisting the vise-like grip of the coyote who held her. Their noses were less than an inch apart, his breath was warm on her muzzle. Her green eyes stared calmly into his gray eyes, waiting.

Joe could hear the beating of her heart. He slowly lowered his right paw, bringing the tanto down to his side. He released the tracker and stepped back, drawing a breath and then exhaling slowly.

"Cindy?"

# # #

The six of them sat around a small campfire in the cave the King’s Special Operations Group members called "home". They were guarded by various wards that Aramis had put in place around their camp, no one could approach without their knowing about it and being ready. As a result the crew was fairly relaxed. Aramis was relating his encounter with Cutter Long to the eager ears of Tigermark and their three visitors.

Demi looked absolutely astonishing in her leather field armor. Designed to protect her against small weapons such as throwinig darts and tantos while affording her maximum flexibility and maneuverability in a fight, it was tailored and fitted, glossy black, and served to highlight her alreaday trim and athletic frame. Her curled tail hovered behind her head, somehow accentuating the smile on her face and the mirth in her blue eyes. She watched Aramis carefully as he spoke.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with her was Cindy, Joe’s intended target. The Siamese had somehow, in her travels, come by armor issued by the Imperial Armory. Joe was certain there was a story behind that aquisition, the flexible yet virtually indestructible armor was certainly not for sale anywhere. Cindy’s figure was just barely contained by the armor, parts of her seemed to be overflowing it in a most impressive manner. Her greyish tan fur shone softly in the firelight, her brown hair seemed to fade into the background of the dark cave. Every now and then her green eyes would steal a quick glance at Joe.

Next to Aramis sat Sela, dressed in the dark, heavy cotton garments of a huntress. The clothing looked out of place in the desert, but Sela looked great in it none the less. A bit smaller and thinner than the other two ladies, the gray fox was a bit less demonstrative about her appearance as compared to her companions, but the one thing they all saw was the katana she carried and the finely tooled leather sheath it now rested in. Sela was quiet, smiling cautiously and nodding occasionally, but contributing very little to the conversation.

Tigermark sat between the two couples, listening carefully to Aramis’ dialog and asking an occasional question. It was a debrief, as far as Tigermark was concerned. They would get around to the ladies’ story shortly, for now it was enough to know that they were apparently warrior femmes and seemed to have thrown in with the furs from Special Operations.

Joe leaned back against the wall of the cave, about ten feet back from the small fire. He wasn’t sure what to make of the mercenaries that seemed to have joined their cause, but they seemed safe enough. Joe put a smile on his muzzle as he tried to relax, studying the skunk, the fox, and the feline in turn. Failing to achieve a relaxed state by observing the furs sharing his curreent quarters, he cursed quietly to himself and closed his eyes. Immediately his mind leapt to the one thing he didn’t want to think about. All these worlds are yours, the voice had said, except one. You cannot go back.

Joe thought briefly about the whiskey on board the beast, and cursed his lack of foresight silently. He shifted his position on the ground slightly, giving his tail a bit more room, and attempted to clear his mind by concentrating on the one thing that mattered to him more than anything, the one thing he missed most of all on this God-forsaken planet.

He must have dozed a bit, for the next thing he knew Tigermark was gently prodding his shoulder. He opened his eyes to observe the fire well down, almost out, in the little fire pit. In the almost complete darkness he could detect the forms of sleeping furs arranged around the fire pit, but couldn’t see who was who. He did recognize the scent and touch of his friend, however, and didn’t need to ask what it was about.

"My turn?" he asked, stretching a bit before rising stiffly.

"Yeah," Tigermark mumbled sleepily, seating himself immediately adjacent to where Joe had been dozing. "All’s been quiet. It’ll be dawn in about two hours." The white tiger yawned quietly.

Joe fetched a clump of sagebrush from the pile they had made earlier and carried it to the fire pit. Tossing it in, he turned to ask his friend a question. In the light of the new fuel burning he could see that Tigermark’s eyes were already closed.

"G’nite, Tiger," Joe muttered under his breath.

# # #

(2 June 2004)

Joe turned and walked past the fire to take up a position in the shadows at the cave’s mouth. All seemed quiet as he peered out, save for the occasional sounds of some passing nocturnal desert critter as it scurried or flew past. As the sky began to gradually lighten in the east, Joe contemplated the situation they found themselves in. Cutter still had the Princess, and had very nearly had Aramis. There were three lovely lady mercenaries, whose loyalties Joe didn’t trust, now joining in with them, and so far they hadn’t a clue as to exactly how they were going to get the Princess back.

Joe sighed silently to himself. Their erstwhile companions were as lovely as could be, but they only served to remind him of how much he missed his lovely fox bride. He’d almost lost track of how long they’d been together, but she just seemed to get more beautiful every day. He was determined to get done with this business and head home to her as soon as possible.

He caught his tail making an impatient wave and stilled it, not wanting any motion to give away his position. As the light increased, and the last few desert creatures made their way to their burrows, Joe thought again of Cutter Long. He hadn’t been nearly so adept with magic the last time they’d crossed paths. They had heard he’d been working for the Archmage, so maybe he picked up some of the scraps after the evil wizard’s defeat. They hadn’t seen him in that battle, but he would have certainly been among those who scavenged the ruined Keep after the explosion that destroyed it.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as Joe bowed his head and said a prayer of thanks for another dawn, and for their safety and success. Just as he said “Amen,” he heard a slight sound behind him. His left ear rotated toward the sound, alerting whoever approached that he knew they were there.

“Nice morning, not a cloud to be seen,” came the low voice of Tigermark as he stepped up beside his friend.

“Thought you were asleep, mi amigo,” Joe said without turning around.

“Nah, you know us felines, we only catnap. Been a real quiet night. I would’ve expected Cutter to try something. He doesn’t take defeat and humiliation well,” the tiger said quietly.

“Maybe he doesn’t have any more tricks to pull. He wasn’t that strong in magic when we last fought him. I think maybe he borrowed some stuff from his last boss,” Joe said, still scanning the desert around their hidden camp.

“Could be. He couldn’t do telekinetic attacks, last time I heard. We’d best watch our step from here on out. Especially Aramis, Cutter’ll go after him big time from now on,” Tigermark said.

“Yep, so what else is new? We always have to watch our step where the Dotted Lion’s concerned,” Joe paused a few seconds, and then said, “Hey, let’s get breakfast started. Bet our guests are hungry.”

“I would bet on it. Uh, Joe?” Tigermark said, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

“What is it, compadre?” Joe said in reply.

“If our trio of friends in there turn out to be sincere in joining our side in this, I don’t want to report on their involvement in the kidnapping. If we report them, even with a positive recommendation for helping us, King Phillip would put a price on their lovely heads just on principle,” Tigermark said in a low voice.

“They were involved, you want to let them walk?” Joe said, more to confirm Tigermark’s intent than to question his action.

“I’m not all that sure they were involved. From what I’ve gathered in their talking, they were left to watch the cultists when Cutter and the band of orc mercenaries he hired left. Apparently he never told them exactly what his money-making scheme was, and when he returned with the Princess, he put them out as ambush bait.”

“That was the impression I got, too. They said they hadn’t seen the orcs for several days, wonder what happened to them?” Joe mused.

“I have a suspicion, but I’ll wait until after breakfast to check it out,” Tigermark said.

“Did someone say breakfast?” a female voice said from back in the cave.

The pair turned to see a delightfully disheveled Demi making her way toward them rubbing sleep from her eyes. The sight reminded the two older warriors just how young the skunk and her companions were.

“Yep, if Aramis is awake, we can get started with it,” Joe said, “I’ll go wake him.”

“Fine, I’ll watch the door,” Tigermark replied.

Joe headed back into the cave. Demi started to follow him, but held back a moment.

“Tiger, thank you,” she said simply.

“What for?” the tiger replied as he scanned the horizon.

She stepped up close to him, and kissed him lightly on the side of the muzzle, saying, “I heard what you said. We are sincere. You’ve shown us twice the compassion, care, and character that Cutter has ever shown. Thank you for giving us a chance to correct a bad mistake.”

“You’re welcome. Forgiveness is what a Christian is supposed to show, as well as compassion,” Tigermark said, turning back to take up his sentry duty.

Demi gave him a slight smile, said, “You do your Lord proud,” and turned and went back into the cave. Tigermark looked after her, sighed, and decided to go back to the group. The heat and the wards on the cave would keep away any unwelcome visitors, so he felt he could go eat in peace.

Inside the cave, Aramis had opened their “Spare Pocket,” the magical space they used to carry their armor and extra supplies. Bread, cheese, eggs, and water had been laid out. Aramis was toasting some of the bread by the fire, as the other two ladies sat blinking and stretching. Joe was cutting some small slabs of meat to roast with their meal, and Demi had walked over to see if she could help him. It made for a nice, peaceful scene, but Tigermark was sure the day would be far from peaceful.

As they went about the tasks of preparing their meal, Tigermark said, “Well ladies, tell us how three lovely femme’s like you found yourself in the mercenary business.”

Demi looked up from her work and said, “Not much to tell, really. I left home at 16, looking for adventure. I was inducted into the Farwest Kingdom’s militia and given training and my armor and the broadsword I carry. When the force was disbanded, I was out of work. I headed this direction because more furs live here, so I figured I’d find more work. Met Cindy a couple of years ago, and Sela shortly after that, and we’ve been working together ever since. Mostly small-time stuff. Cutter was supposed to be our first big payoff.”

Cindy stretched again and spoke next, saying, “I was in a traveling show as an acrobat, but I got tired of nobody appreciating that, and only wanting to paw on me. I learned to use my acrobat’s skill and speed, along with these,” she indicated the twin fighting knives of about 24 inches in length she wore at her waist, “to defend myself, and started out to make my living with them. I actually won my armor on a bet. An Imperial Guard bet me I couldn’t eat a banana without using my paws. He put it on the ground and expected me to grovel in the dirt after it. Imagine his surprise when I did a pawstand and brought my feet over my head, picked up the banana, and fed it to myself. He dropped his armor and stumbled away, muttering to himself about girls folding in half. I think I met Demi about 3 months after that.”

Everyone now looked at Sela, who had just finished a long, languorous standing stretch. She blinked back at them and said, “What?”

The three males laughed lightly, as Demi and Cindy said together, “Oh no, you’ve got to tell your part, too!”

“Okay, okay. Well, I was raised as a Huntress up in the Northern Kingdom, where my clan lived and hunted. We were traveling to a new hunting range, and had stopped for the day. I went to get water, and when I returned, my entire clan had been killed by a great, old, striped Wyrm. The dragon was still there, as my clan had mortally wounded the beast. I was only 15 then. I thought I was a goner, too, but the old dragon just said she was too old and too hurt to kill anymore. It took her two days to die, and I was grieving too much to leave, so we talked. Seems she was just resting nearby when my clan discovered her. They attacked out of fear, and she defended herself. She had a youngling she sent away, and she told me that one day, I would see him. She asked me to spare him then, as she had spared me. The katana I carry is from what was left of her treasure hoard. She was too old and sick to hold it, and a younger Wyrm had driven her out. I lived in that area, alone, until I saw Demi and Cindy traveling through. I was tired of being alone, so I joined up with them. Since then I’ve learned many things. Like how to tie knots.” She said this last with a wink at Aramis, who blushed brightly beneath his fur.

Breakfast was now ready, and the group sat and ate, making small talk and listening as Tigermark, Joe, and Aramis told briefly about themselves. Cindy seemed a bit disappointed to find out Joe was happily married.

As they began to clean up, Demi said, “That was really good! What kind of eggs and meat were those?”

“We get them from a fur named Samuel Iam,” Tigermark said, “The eggs are from a brightly colored bird called a Preene, after what it spends most of its time doing. The meat was a special blend of meat, salt, spices and water, pressed together and pre-cooked. We call it Special Purpose All Meat.”

Demi got the line of thought first and burst out laughing