Many were those who thought him quite odd. It was not that he was in the habit of doing anything particularly peculiar. Most days, he simply went from street to street begging, or running errands for others. This in itself is not particularly odd, especially in the imperial city of Orissia. In the largest city in all of Ifriquya this was to be expected, what was so remarkable about him and had a great many other orphans whispering constantly about him was his natural gift for disappearing from sight and appearing elsewhere within the city. Such was his knowledge of the city that many were given over to wondering if Felix was not actually a feline but a rodent.

“Always Felix finds his way from one quarter of the city, from one hill to the next,” people who knew him were given over to gossiping. None of those speaking were able to understand how it was that he could slip from one portion of the city to another without anyone ever being the wiser, and faster than any other person in the city.

“Between that and his constant gift for swiping fresh bread and pastries from the stands, he is nothing but trouble,” others were given over to grumbling, usually merchants or bakers.

It was a constant and consistent complaint men had living in Orissia. Since the reign of Aferian II the city had begun to take a turn for the worst. It had begun to employ less men and with the constant fighting between the collegia in the lower parts of the city and the tribalism inherent in a massive multi-ethnic urban centre it had become chaotic.

What none dared say though they knew it to be true, was the loss of purpose. Once it was believed that Orissia was destined to conquer the whole of Ifriquya, to bring it under its heel and to bring it into good order. It was also believed at that time that the Empire was destined to reconstitute the old Principate of Roma, whereupon ambitions became more realistic and the west of South-Agenor was believed to belong to Orissia by right.

Manifest destiny though could not endure it seemed, as the Empire faltered and the great city fell into disorder even as the line of Aferian II turned away from war and to debauchery. The line of warrior-Emperors had fallen into debauchery and wickedness.

Still though, while many merchants grumbled about Felix thieving them of the odd bread or pastry or even slice of meat, most of the elderly of the city were fond of him. None more so than old man Leodorus, who was prone to saying to any who might complain about the Tigrun, “He ought to explore, who might know what the future holds for him someday? After all, with his knowledge the city-watch might someday bring him into their employ!”

This statement often generated a great many scornful words, from many of those who had suffered the loss of food or coin to the feline’s slippery fingers. Others who had not, or had enjoyed his charity were to give the old man a contemplative look. Those within the tavern he usually sat within eyed the old man for some time; some dismissed him at once such as the tavern-keeper, Aberash and others considered what he had to say.

“Felix working for the city-watch that will be the day!” Aadan grunted, the head of the city-watch he had captained the watch for more than fifteen years since he was twenty-three years of age and was not terribly fond of the Tigrun. “He is a nuisance and a criminal, should I catch him thieving again this month, I will cut off his hands as I should have done long ago.”

“You leave him alone!” Kalaya growled, as protective of the child as might a mother be, “He does a fat lot more good than you ever will!”

The bar-wench was middle-aged, with graying hair and a slight paunch yet was renowned for her ill-temper, so that few patrons liked to tempt her wrath. She was also the sister of the owner of the establishment, whom she dominated so that to earn her displeasure was to earn his. Any other man therefore might well have submitted to her fury, yet not Aadan.

He was made of sterner stuff, as he was always keen to demonstrate to all around him. In this way he was typical of the sort of man who fancies he has risen to his post by virtue of merit, and of manhood. “Come now, he is a criminal and one who is guilty of pilfering from the most hard working of Orissia’s people.”

“Do not try your tricks with me, I remember a time when Captain Albinus once captained the city-watch and how he was ejected from his post for corruption, bribes and theft. Strange that though he has gone, the costs of the guards and their rumoured penchant for demanding payment for keeping order within the city and spreading of contraband have only grown. It is almost as though it was not the good Captain who did those things, but another, a man who was promoted shortly after his departure from his post who did all those things and continued to do so after he has gone away.” Kalaya snapped bitterly, showing herself to be far more perceptive to the captain’s wrongdoings than most previously thought her to be.

“Aberash your sister has begun to harangue me, do better to keep her in line, as you have done that wife of yours,” Aadan called out no longer of a mind to tolerate the old woman’s ill-temper.

Likely she might have argued a great deal more, however her brother shooed her away by emphasizing to her the importance of seeing to serving the other customers. Irritated, by the weakness in her younger sibling she however did as she was bidden, more interested in ensuring other customers did not feel neglected or otherwise offended, than bickering with the likes of Captain Aadan.

The captain himself was to having lost interest in the chatter, finish his supper and prepare to leave. The establishment was to his liking certainly, however he had other duties to see to; such as reports to file and he had to oversee the changing of the guard along the east-gates where he was ordinarily to be found. Corrupt as he was, he still took his duties seriously, if only to avoid garnering for himself the attention of those above him.

It happened though that just as he finished his mug of ale that a Minotaur found his way before him, seated himself in the seat across and ordered a mug of his own. Where the captain was dark skinned, with short hair and a short beard and stood tall at five-foot ten the Minotaur was almost an entire foot taller than him, with thick fur and shaggy long hair that was tied up in a series of braids. Dressed in silk, with long breeches and a large tunic that did little to hide the muscular build that was natural for his people to have, the horned Beast-Man studied the dark eyed captain with his own vivid blue eyes for several minutes, before he addressed him in a rough, guttural voice. “The lord has work he needs done.”

“The lord could stand to wait,” Aadan grunted irritably, eager to leave the tavern and not at all keen to hear of what the Minotaur’s master wished to convey to him.

“You will be amply rewarded,” the Minotaur replied as he dropped a small pouch of coin onto the table whilst Kalaya and the rest of the tavern were distracted.

Intrigued now, Aadan eyed the small satchel yet he could not resist like all men of his sort the temptation to ask for more, “Is that all?”

“Not at all, it is simply for your attention, I am to give over six more bags of silver phoenixes for you,” the larger male replied as his eyes glittered with amusement.

Silver phoenixes were those coins made of silver stamped with the emblem of the line of Aferian, and had been the emblem of the Empire for well over two and a half centuries. It was for this reason that all bronze, silver and gold coins were stamped with the Imperial emblem, with silver coins quite a bit more common than gold yet more valuable than bronze. The difficulty lay in procuring silver it was said, since the downfall of the northern silver-mines to the lord of the Edervar who had rallied the lands of Edervar in Kulævron. The rebellious general had since then to the horror of the Imperial-Court if rumours were to be believed, begun to mint coins in his own name.

Aware of all this, and of the fact that he was in dire need of coin given how much he had gambled the prior month, Aadan sighed. “What is it you wish for me to do?”

Little did he or anyone else present within the Crimson-Lynx for that matter realize just how crucial this discussion was, or how much it would change the lives, let alone the whole of the Empire of Orissia. If he had known, likely Aadan would not have done what he did that evening and acquiesced to the request from his usual secondary employer.

*****

The sound of a bell broke the silence, just as the suns’ had begun its slow rise in the east, with their rise always a source of hope for the people of the city of Orissia. At the centre of a vast Empire the likes of which Ifriquya had never seen before, she had begun as a city founded in the image of Roma, upon five hills. The city had long since outgrown the five hills, so that it was now no longer a city of a few thousand refugees fleeing the destruction of their home-city but a mighty king-city of almost ten million people at the centre of a massive and disparate Empire.

Surrounded by the great forty meter high walls that were known as the Aquiline Walls built nigh on five centuries prior, Orissia lay along the Airtyu-River and had within her boundaries more than two hundred shrines to the old Romalian gods, along with some native to Ifriquya. Most of the temples were built of stone and were modeled after those that dotted the landscape now in South-Agenor. Many of the largest of which were square shaped building that included the North-Agenorian preference for large windows with painted glass so that the light that reflected into these temples were multifaceted and coloured. Such was the magnificence of these ancient shrines that men still paused mid-step to stare at them in awe, and women breathed heavy sighs of longing.

The smaller shrines were once fair to behold and though built of stone, and with pointed North-Agenorian roofs atop the rectangular shaped Dorian buildings just as the larger ones were, lacked however the same cleanliness. Long since in disrepair, their once glorious stone statues had been in recent years replaced by wooden ones.

The inhabitants of the city had long considered themselves something of the heirs of the great city of Tirreinia, and had in the early days set to work subjugating the other peoples of Ifriquya and many of those of South-Agenor. It soon came to be that they had expanded until they had stretched their borders up to those of the Dorian Empire in the east.

Disaster though had visited itself upon the Empire not simply once but twice by this time, as they had in recent days found their once invincible armada not only in disrepair but utterly trounced. The navy that had dominated the waves and had challenged and defeated the Dark Elves in the Second Wars of Darkness, and sundered the Zolusian navy when it had sought to reclaim its prior status in the Agenorian Sea was gone now. This was it was said a disaster borne from neglect, as happens near the end of an Empire.

The second great disaster was a famine. One that had been endured for the past two years due to the heat of the suns’ which seemed more unrelenting than ever before. Such was the unrelenting fury of the heat that bore down upon them and the land itself.

None could quite bring themselves to keep from blaming the Imperial court and Senate’s mismanagement of all affairs from military (such as it was) and to administrative matters. Once it was the responsibility of court officials and local regional governors to store grain, vegetables and the like in the event of famines, now such store-houses were left to rot.

Many were those who blamed those at the helm of state, for what had transpired in recent years, with next to none save them having profited by recent misfortunes and disasters.

Yet among those who had profited it was whispered, were members of the priesthood who lived in the Pauper’s Quarter on the Fractine-Hill. This was not a new accusation, however what had bewildered a great many, was the fact that where some members of the priesthood had perished in the flames, a number of the surviving ones had already begun to plead with the courts for permission to claim what land and properties their brethren had been entitled to.

Among the suspects for having begun the fire, along with attempting to lay claim to that which belonged to his peers, was the likes of Brother Nifalgin.

Most who arose that day uttered, “Good morning,” if half-heartedly to one another, as the scars of what had already begun to be dubbed the ‘Pauper’s Fire’ continued to burn in the memories of all the inhabitants of that part of the city. The fire had done more to damage despite having been cut short by the timely action of those such as the Imperial-Guard, city-watch and many others led by the Prince Aferius. When these forces had not proven enough, he had rumour had it, called upon the owner of the Circus Orissius, who was also in the thick of things to bring out the thousands of gladiators below the arena to assist, and for the head of the Red-Dragons. The latter were the mightiest of the Imperial-Guards, and served as the private guard of the Emperor himself since the time of Emperor Orissius himself.

Not all of the Fractine-hill had been burnt though, for one thing the further away one went from the center of life there, until one was almost in another quarter of the city, the less damaged by the fire were the buildings. A good example of this was the temple of Isis, with the hem-netjer of that temple that is to say the one charged with offering sacrifices to the goddess and praying for the flock who visited it, a plump old Goblin, who was prone to early morning walks.

Such as on this day, with the old fellow in the midst of whistling a hearty tune, as he traversed his way through the street, nodding here and there to this fellow or that one. Distracted by his own thoughts, he was en route to the city-watch’s barracks, by the east-gate. Most though when the saw him did not do as a lot of those who lived nearer to the temple had done and wave at him.

There was good reason for most not to be pleased to see him, for he was a green-skinned goblin in a dark robe, with his long nose and large pointed ears. In all he was monstrously hideous to look upon, and with his thinning dark hair, he had begun to show his age so that he was hideous even for a Goblin. It was something that tended to attract hidden looks of disgust from men and women.

If he was at all aware of the disgusted looks cast in his direction, from those he stepped past he displayed no hint of it. He had far more important things to think about, and to do than to worry over what others might think of him.

He was however to breathe a sigh of relief when he found himself at last before the great barracks that was the building nearest to the city watch-tower that stood to one side of the great eastern gates. Each of the four gates to the city had barracks next to them, with this one the grandest of them all on account of how it had been found wanting in the eyes of Aadan. He had invested his own resources it was said, over the years to have it rebuilt and renovated with the finest rooms on the top floor, of course reserved for himself.

It was those very rooms that were the destination of the Goblin, who hurried on inside the square shaped twenty meter high and fourteen meter wide building. It was a typical barracks, with most of the men forced to live together on the first and second floors, while the entirety of the fourth floor was one large suite, and it was there that the hem-netjer was to find the man he was looking for.

As always, whenever he stepped into the suite reserved for the captain of the city-watch he was amazed and awed by the beauty of the interior. The impeccable interior was resplendent with large wooden columns to support the great roof, with the ceiling painted to look not unlike the morning sky, with there being three tapestries that Aadan had stolen that depicted the great victory of Orissius the Founder, against the southern tribes, another him laying the first stone for what would become Orissia and

He let out a prayer to the gods, just before he reached for the roasted chicken, eyes darting to the melted butter on the recently baked bread, the well fermented, imported wine. It was a breakfast worthy of a king.

“Good morning, Brother Nifalgin. I pray we continue to have a good day, free of rain if only until sunset,” the guardsman retorted as he paused mid-bite, a large beefy joint held in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other.

Eyeing the Goblin hem-netjer who was almost half his size he was to regard him with the sort of coldness that came from a life-time of spilling blood, and having to slay or be slain.

Nodding his head at him, the Goblin was to risk a glance outside, only to frown when he saw how dark the clouds were becoming.

“Lord Aadan, I do pray for rain, as the last thing we wish for is for the realm to suffer another famine.” The Goblin hem-netjer grunted in response to the guardsman, his eyes moving away from the heavens down onto the city, the only part visible was that which was to the west of the barracks.

The city had been partially burnt in a large fire that had begun it was said accidentally. The blaze had consumed a third of the city, notably the ‘Pauper’s Quarter’ that is to say the south-west where a great many paupers lived. It had lasted for nigh on three days and had taken a considerable effort to put out, with many proposing that it was the unusually dry weather that had caused the fire to start. The result was the same; Orissia was now a damaged city with a large number of dead, a great many survivors dispossessed and worst of all the south-westernmost parts of the Aquiline wall damaged.

“I only hope that should there once again be a fire, I will not be called hither to assist in combating it,” Aadan grumbled bitterly, never a man who liked to risk his life for others. “I despise doing so for the Fractine.”

Ignoring the casual manner in which he had uttered the original name of the ‘Pauper’s Quarter’, where he lived Nifalgin was to ask of him, “I do not have much time and would know why you have called me hither, Aadan? I have many acts of charity, many prayers to offer and a great sacrifice to offer to the goddess before the day is out. Therefore, do be quick about things.”

“Do come closer, I would speak with you without being heard,” the captain of the city-watch commanded if quietly so, with a swift glance at the door which the Goblin had locked instinctively. “It would appear that the lady Amine has a new request for us.”

“And what request might that be?” Nifalgin asked as he seated himself across from the guardsman.

The fare on display was nothing that he was unaccustomed to, as he had a tendency to spoil himself in similar fashion. His own comfort was important to the Goblin, who dug into some of the food in no less an eager manner as the manner seated across from him. They ate for quite some time before they continued to speak, both their mouths full of roasted chicken.

When Aadan answered him at last, it was only after he had wiped at his lips with a cloth he had kept nearby for just such a purpose. “It would appear to me that she wishes a carriage attacked and the woman inside to be publicly humiliated.”

“Whatever for?”

“Some sort of snub, on account of the lady of this carriage not inviting her to some dinner-party or poetry-reading, and then claiming that the lady Amine is of too low a rank to attend.” Aadan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But is she not the wife of a Senator?” Nifalgin asked utterly confused now, whereupon he crammed another hunk of bread down his gullet.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Smiling in amusement, the guardsman answered simply, “This lady is of truly high birth, and apparently regards a man who achieved his rank through bribes, the selling of slaves and his wife who was born the daughter of a weaver as beneath her.”

“I suppose that makes some sort of sense,” Nifalgin replied with a shrug of his shoulders, it made little difference to him what the upper-classes fought over, so long as he profited from it in some fashion. “She requires this lady humiliated, how?”

“I need someone to distract her carriage, so that my men can humiliate the lady in question.”

“And who is this lady?”

“Never you mind who she is,” Aadan replied sharply.

“Why should I agree to work under such circumstances? I always know who it is, my flock target,” Nifalgin retorted sharply, irritated by the refusal on the part of the captain. “I must know something about her.”

Another bite, another swallow wherefore the guard at last retorted if impatiently so, “I will only say to you that she is someone that Amine detests’ a great deal. She snubbed her at a dinner party and that the plan is for two or three members of your flock to distract the driver, while my men do what they will.”

Nifalgin was of a mind that the human was not telling him everything. He could almost sense that there was something hidden, certainly the motive was indeed the truth he thought, but the trouble was that he suspected it was not all there was to this quarrel. If it was just between two women, why

Still though Aadan would not answer his many questions, and no matter how much he persisted in his attempts to extract the truth from him, he would not tell him aught else. Exasperated, the hem-netjer was to depart from the city-watch’s barracks for the Pauper’s Quarter with all the haste of a man with a fire lit under his rear. Eager to return home, now that he had been paid a full bag of twenty pieces of silver the Goblin was to eye every man and women he crossed on the road home, with suspicion. Most of the aforementioned individuals though, paid him but little mind intent as they were intent on arranging their own shops or otherwise seeing to their own affairs.

Arriving before the temple where he lived, Nifalgin breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have made it back safely. Though he was protected by Aadan and those who served him as enforcers, the streets of the city especially in the south-west of the city were notoriously unsafe the moment the suns’ began to dip.

The main hall of the temple was a large shrine between ten and twenty meters long and ten wide, it was also seven meters large from floor to ceiling. It was not the largest building or the grandest in the whole of the city, yet it was once quite cozy. It was one of the few that had remained unscathed by the fire on account of it’s not being anywhere near where the fires had taken place.

It happened that when he had returned to the temple of Isis where he lived, in the most easterly part of the Pauper’s Quarter Nifalgin locked the door behind him and made for the a door to the left of the main hall. It was once he had locked the door behind him that he at last breathed a sigh of relief. This was what he liked to term his ‘place of safety’, it was his favourite place in the whole of the city as none dared venture there for fear of divine disfavour. He needed only to cross the lengthy hallway more than eight meters long and two meters wide, and he would reach the living space connected to his temple.

‘Home is where the heart is,’ was a popular proverb even in that time, with Nifalgin never one to really like proverbs or to consider them, and yet this was one he begrudgingly had to admit might be true.

It was as he paused before the door, opening it a crack that he noticed a light had already been lit. This displeased him more than it startled. He rarely if ever approved of the use of his candle-wax, as he was frugal about its use and hated to part with even bronze phoenixes for them.

Listening in on the discussion that took place, he was hardly surprised to find that it was Felix in the midst of one of his stories. One of the older boys at ten years of age, he was always keen to tell tall tales to the younger children.

“-And there he was in the midst of the Circus Orissius, blade flashing with a savagery no other man or beast-folk could ever hope to match save for Herakles himself! Hardly able to match him, Kaldran the Terrible could barely muster strength enough to guard against his attacks! I swear to you that I saw the Ogre began to attempt to plead, yet the Caled-warrior was unrelenting,” Felix was in the midst of explaining in excited tones. In his right-hand he held up one of the golden candle-holders that Nifalgin prized ever so much, flashing it here and there as though it were a sword. The energy with which he pranced about, leaping here and there and everywhere mesmerized even the older children.

Though he hated to see his candle-holder used in such a profane manner, the Goblin could not deny the sheer magnetism of his young charge. Though still but a child, Felix it could not be denied had some sort of spark within him. It was only a moment, yet for a brief one Nifalgin considered letting the matter slide and continuing to eavesdrop. The Tigrun had such a gift for words that he really could not wholly blame the other children for being utterly enchanted by him.

It was Luvius who was one of the younger children; at five years of age who broke the spell that Felix had woven. “I really do like this tale, but should you really be waving the candle-stick? Nifalgin does not like it when you do.”

“Bah, where is your sense of romance and adventure, Luvius?” Felix replied cheerfully, a hint of bravado in his voice, “I am not so afraid of that fat Goblin! In any event he should still be with Aadan, eating his fill and whiling away the hours until later tonight.”

The hint of envy at the mention of food and the scorn that bubbled beneath the surface of his words, was enough to infuriate Nifalgin. If there was one thing he would not tolerate, from any of his young charges, especially the likes of the beast-folk such as Felix it was the slightest hint of disrespect.

Waiting until Felix had turned his back once more to the door, and begun to engage in his tale once more, before bursting forth from his hiding place. Nifalgin was to step into the room with all the suddenness of a sudden tsunami that tended to strike the easternmost coasts of Ifriquya.

The fury which consumed him at that moment, had some measure of satisfaction when he saw the fear that flashed across the faces of all the children.

Most of them scampered away, fearful of his wrath and desperate to not stay close to Felix as all knew from experience that when it came to doling out punishment, those nearest to the guilty party had a tendency of attracting Nifalgin’s ire also. In this situation, the cold menace that they observed in his step and disposition made more than one cast in spite of their fear of him looks of pity in the direction of their friend. The youth in question though, wasted no time in throwing himself forward upon the mercy of the Goblin who sneered down upon him.

“Please, oh please I did not mean anything by this, I was merely seeking to bring joy to everyone,” Felix pleaded keen to placate the old hem-netjer even as he dropped the golden candle-stick in his haste to do so.

This proved to be a mistake.

The beating that followed was a savage one. In this regard, it was nothing out of the ordinary for any of the children. Most of them were accustomed to this, and most had learnt to never anger Nifalgin. Felix though had never fully learnt this lesson, such was his irrepressible nature, so that he

*****

Leaving them briefly to go back to the kitchens, to fetch for himself some bread, milk and a hunk of beef that he had saved the prior day. He was to lock the door in all haste, making certain to hide the key in his voluminous robes before going back, as he was not at all keen to share his own meal with them. Certainly he would later have to return hither to fetch for them, the supplies for their meal as was his duty however for the moment this would do.

When he had finished his second lunch of the day, Nifalgin rounded upon them taking a moment to savour the fear he had inspired in his charges, along with the taste and flavour of the bread he had bought the prior day.

When he was finished he went on to sip his ale, pulled from Abydan’s private holdings from outside the city where he had invested in slaves that worked the fields in place of Orissians or freedmen. As he did so, he at last glanced at the boys and little girls that remained huddled in the darkened corner of the small five meter long and wide room.

“We have received some coin, five pieces of silver if you will,” He said hiding the fact that he was actually paid twenty silver-phoenixes. There was no need he told himself, for them to know the full truth, not when he had plans to hide away the coin in a private box in his bed-chambers on the third floor of the building, where he kept all his most prized possessions. “It involves waylaying a lady of some importance, so that Aadan’s men might strip her of her dress and thus publicly shame her, for having snubbed the lady Amine and send a message to her family not to defy Abydan and his kinsmen. This will be no different from the time we did inflicted this exact humiliation upon the lady Alliya two years ago.”

The children nodded their heads, with more than one swallowing with visible trepidation. There had been a great may injuries that day. Two of their number had lost hands, to the guards of the lady in question. In spite of their dread though, there were those who looked on the Goblin with open excitement. Risky work such as this, was always accompanied by hefty pay.

“Felix think you, yourself capable of waylaying the carriage of which I speak?” Nifalgin growled at the youth he had beaten a few moments prior.

The boy in question nodded his head energetically despite the bruises that decorated his face and the cuts along his lip and right cheek. He was visibly daunted by the menace in the Goblin’s voice and by the manner he had been threatened but a few minutes prior. Brave as he was he like all the rest, feared Nifalgin’s temper. The old Goblin was known to dole out beatings as often as he was known to deny the children meals, so that they knew better than to defy him.

“Certainly, however who does the carriage belong to?”

The question was an innocuous one.

It was also one that he had foreseen, for he well knew that were it him, he would not leave for what could well prove one that might result in death. However, if there was one thing that Nifalgin detested it was divulging any sort of information, to the likes of Felix. It was not simply that he disliked the feline, but that the Tigrun had a habit of doing as he pleased and carrying those around him along.

In short Felix was a natural leader, one with the potential to when the time came begin to overturn everything that the Goblin had built. Or so he sometimes imagined, and yet at other times he did not think so as the boy was also remarkably trusting for one who had grown up on the streets.

For all his wit and resourcefulness he was as dependent as the rest though upon Nifalgin, who was the only one willing he knew, to provide him and the other Fractine orphans as they were called with a roof and food. Most of them could not fine honest work within the city, not with the flood of slaves currently being imported by the mercantile-senatorial class.

“None of your concern, Felix you will do as you are told, and in return you will be given an extra helping of gruel,” Nifalgin retorted with a little more silkiness to his voice.

Properly subdued, and more than eager for a little extra gruel Felix soon showed himself to be no less subservient than all the rest so that he was to line himself up behind the older boys the moment the hem-netjer called for a line. They always did this when it came time for him to feed them, with the old Goblin feeding them what many might well have termed ‘slop’, yet the children always looked forward to on account of their poverty.

They ought to be grateful he told himself, though he did worry about the very matter that Felix had brought up; why target someone with a hit without telling any of them who she was? There was something that Aadan had not told him, and as soon as this matter was dealt with he would make certain to determine what it was that he had hidden from him.

*****

“Has it arrived hither yet?” Osurio asked in a plaintive voice.

“No, not quite yet,” Felix retorted wearily.

The two had been selected for the upcoming ‘honour’ of distracting the caravan of whomever the lady was that had displeased Nifalgin and Aadan’s patron, Abydan and his wife. It was called an honour however given the darkening clouds and the fact that there would be armed men nearby, did not make either of them all that eager for it. Adventurous though both boys were, neither of them felt much enthusiasm towards the notion of treading anywhere near them.

The fact that they did not know the cause, or the reason for which they had to distract the driver, made it so that both of them had been tempted to fly away from the street where the carriage was supposed to pass them by.

Hidden within the alleyway in between a large tavern and the home of the local baker, the two were near where the Fractine and the southerly hills met. The Ingressutine-Hill was the part of the city nearest to the eastern gates of the city.

“I do not much like this idea,” Osurio grumbled beneath his breath.

An Ursidon, Osurio was as were all his people large, considerably more so than most of the other boys so that he already stood a foot taller than the other boys his age. Stronger than Felix he was also two years his elder, with dark fur and hair, with brown eyes a bear-like snout and claws that though not yet sharp as a bear’s were already able to leave a permanent scar on those who crossed him. Dressed in a worn brown tunic and breeches, and with his feet covered by musty old boots that he had stolen and that were two sizes too small, he cut a considerably more impressive figure than Felix.

His fur a light orange, Felix had long dark hair and blue eyes and was dressed in a similarly ragged and filthy manner, he did not argue with his friend.

“Clear the road! Clear the road!” someone could be heard shouting some distance away, so that both boys scampered to their feet, as they realized that the lady whom they were supposed to help waylay had arrived at last.

The crowds threw themselves out of the path with a great deal of trouble, curses and excitement from before the carriages whereupon the great ox-drawn carriage wheeled forth from the Pauper’s Quarter towards the Ingressutine-Hill.

Carriages were a new mode of transportation favoured by a growing number of the nobility of Orissia. It allowed them greater means of privacy all while they could travel by means of an ox with these means of travel popularized by Kulævron -born officials. The use of an ox for women’s carriages a strange new fashion popularized first some ten years prior by the previous Empress (who had sadly passed away not long thereafter).

The carriage that wheeled through the streets of Orissia was unlike any other that Felix had ever seen before. For one thing it was black or at the least a dark green colour that was almost black, with the box-like container with its large wheels was built for comfort and with curtains dark as the midnight sky pulled closed.

It was quite the striking carriage, and was a source of amazement and curiosity for the young Tigrun who could not help but stare at it, from where he stood in the alleyway between two large stone-built houses. Next to him, Osurio the only other boy with him waited impatiently annoyed at having to wait before they threw themselves forward before the carriage.

It was while Felix sought to place in his memory where it was that he had observed this particular carriage in the past. Who else, he asked himself had a carriage that was that particular shade of black and an ox with a green favour-cloth wrapped about its left horn? It was a very particular arrangement, one that he had heard of before and that he only now began to realize with a start to whom the carriage belonged to, and whom it carried within it.

“We must act now!” Osurio hissed as they pounced forward from the alleyway they had hidden themselves, before the carriage.

“No, wait Osurio we shan’t do that!” Felix cried out throwing himself after the other boy, who had begun to race forward onto the street.

It was not easy for Felix to even so much as slow the other boy down. Ill-fed and considerably smaller than him, he had none of the older youth’s people’s natural vigour and strength. Almost double the size of the ten year old feline, at thirteen Osurio was also one of the eldest of all the children who lived under the thrall of Nifalgin.

As the two fought, the ox pulling the carriage let slip a great bellow as the two boys in the midst of scrapping and squabbling were to push one another before it. Panicking the brown-haired and bearded driver pulling on the reins let slip a great yell. “Woah!”

Startled he was to stare at them, and fought to keep the ox from raging and huffing at them, as worried for them as he was for the charge within the carriage the animal was pulling. He reserved for the two boys as their quarrel began to calm itself, a great red-faced bellow that was cut short when with a great laugh someone from behind the two boys threw a knife at him.

The blade arced through the air, as one of the men in the midst of feigning the purchase of an apple had whipped about, blade in hand and made to take advantage of the present confusion.

Just as this took place, another group of warriors, those who had waylaid the guards further along down the road, made to threaten the men sent to protect the Emperor’s eldest daughter. Startled by this sudden act of aggression, the guards growled and brayed as might furious wolves, who have pups to protect and glared at the group of men assembled before them, in the streets.

“You there by what right do you bar the path of her Imperial Highness’ carriage?” the captain of the princess’ guards barked out, at those who barred the road out from the Fractine-Hill. Red-faced and furious he was to signal to all of those under his command to join him, in order to press upon those blocking the road the dangers of further disobedience.

Pandemonium soon broke out throughout the street, as from the shadows all around the carriage surged dozens of men. Each of them hired by the house of Abydan, though not all realized who it was that had hired them.

Some Felix recognized as members of the city-watch such as Caelius, whom he recognized only because of how the man had beaten him, a mere two months prior. A large thug with a barrel chest, a thick brown beard and hair, and dark eyes and tanned skin, he was one of the most disliked of the guards. And one of the most corrupt according to rumours.

Stopping mid-struggle to stare at them, Felix was to attempt to call out a warning yet it was too late. His friend Osurio threw his knee into his stomach, which made the wind burst from him and sent him tottering over grasping at his stomach.

Refusing to wait for him to recover, the older boy was gone in an instant, abandoning him to his fate with nary a glance over his shoulder. None though paid the children any mind horrified as they were by the sudden brutal act on the part of the thugs.

If the captain for his part had hoped to impress the criminals, he was sorely disappointed. Not only did they not care, but pressing two fingers to his mouth, he whistled. At once from the alleys surged two dozen men, each of them armed with blades, cudgels and knives, each of them dark-skinned and full of wrath as they threw themselves upon the better armed guards.

Startled at this blatant attack, the Imperial-Guards lost little time before they retaliated. Though, they were attacked suddenly from the front, several of them taking notice of the other two dozen men who had appeared behind them pointed and shouted. “Captain! Captain! There, look yonder at the carriage, they have slain Zullio!”

“Stop you must not do this!” Felix yelled at the same time that the guards at last took notice of the dangers to their charge. Eager to throw himself now before those who might menace the carriage, he was casually slapped aside by the largest of the criminals, who was a large, six-foot-two man with dusky skin, and the air of a brute about him.

The blow saw the Tigrun thrown back with his ears ringing, eyes watering and head pounding due to the pain as he leant back against the wall of the nearby house he had previously hidden behind.

Bewildered, the thuggish captain of the guards for his part swiveled atop his horse, realizing he had been tricked even as he slashed at one of the men who sought to keep him from rushing to the aid of his charge.

Evidently one of the men of the house of Abydan felt the same way as Felix, for he froze where he stood and called out to the tallest of the warriors, “Wait this is no ordinary noble-woman’s carriage but that of the princess! We shan’t-”

He never finished his phrase as another of the men, ran him through with his short-sword only to push him aside. As the man lay dying, his last sight that of running feet and the side of the nearby apple-stall next to a large house built of charred sand-bricks. All about thereupon the street where he had fallen and where the carriage had paused, screams were heard and people trampled over one another to escape the sudden explosion of violence.

Hewing apart the ropes that bound the ox to the royal carriage, the head of the assailants was to throw it over with four of his men. Each of the dark-skinned brutes threw the whole of their weight and strength, into pushing it and cackling when they heard the screams from within.

What followed was the single most important moment in Felix’s life, and it was that which was destined to change the life of the princess also. While Dakarai had paused after he had torn off the door to the carriage and pushed aside the curtains, and made to force out the princess’ handmaiden, the Tigrun made to stop him.

It was as he turned now to seize the princess, to look upon her for the first time that he halted where he stood, staring in amazement at her. When the princess was drawn out from within the carriage there were a great many others who also stared.

The reason was one that was apparent to any man with eyes, in spite of the thick green dress she wore, and the large tear-shaped cerulean earrings that hung from her ears, she was beautiful. Her figure was immensely voluptuous, without an ounce of excess fat which was so rare for noble-women of the Ifriquyan race. Her skin was dark though not nearly as much so as the men who had come after her, she had a face that was heart-shaped with full lips and a slender figure that seemed to tempt despite her efforts to dress in as conservative a manner as possible. Dark of eyes and with hair that was a contrast to most of the women of her race naturally straighter and longer than most, she was to stare in terror at her captor.

The man, who loomed over her, knew well what his orders were, and might well have gone beyond them so as to satisfy himself with her beyond simply cutting her dress up. The spark of desire that arose in his eyes not only filled the princess with mortal terror, but also inspired Felix to action once more.

His first attempt a few moments earlier had failed; in this there could be no doubt that he had taken the wrong approach in his view. It was why this time he did not bother to attempt to reason with the large dark-skinned warrior, and instead threw himself against his leg. The barbaric knife-men did not like the warriors of old of the Empire wear ring-mail, from neck to ankle but preferred to dress simply in ragged tunic and breeches.

It was for this reason that the man’s left foot was unguarded and Felix’s teeth found their mark with relative ease as he bit just a little above the man’s ankle.

The scream that resulted startled everyone, as the knifemen doing battle a short distance away from where it was that the carriage had halted. A great cry was torn from the guards’ throats as they realized what it was that their assailants were truly after.

Furious they set themselves once more upon their attackers, this time battling with even greater fury as they tore through the lines of thugs. As the Imperial-Guards began to at last hew them apart, the thugs hired by Aadan began to peel away stricken as they were by terror.

“Felix hurry away from there! Fly you fool! Fly! Why do you tarry?” Osurio cried out having only now realized that the other boy had failed to follow him, away from the bloodied street.

Stuttering out a response, Felix dazed still and having tumbled to a halt after having been shaken off from the thug’s foot could barely string together a single thought. So overwhelmed was he that he offered no resistance to his friend, as he pulled away thither into the shadows betwixt the two buildings they had sprung from.

Looking over his shoulder, Felix could not help but feel a sense of culpability at how they had exposed the princess to such danger. He did not stare for very long, worried as Osurio was about those currently riding to the rescue of Vivian, he was soon pulled back into the nearby alley and into the shadows that existed in the ‘Pauper’s Quarter’.