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Neill
Neill's Scraps (30)

The Sharpest of Blades

College Kids
the_sharpest_of_blades.doc
Keywords male 1179060, female 1069258, wolf 191073, rabbit 136977, mouse 53494, vixen 28365, dancer 1934, arabesque 706, nights 497, arabian 319, silks 142, 1001 8
The Sharpest of Blades

She moved swiftly like a ghost in the night, hugging the shadows, becoming one with the darkness as she reached the archway that led to her target's room. Without a noise, her lock-picks slipped into the keyhole and lifted the tumbler pins gently as a lover lifting a beloved's chin.

Inside the room, Elias Al-Sammad was counting his dinars. Golden coins were stacked two feet high on his desk, and he wrote down the figures in a ledger to his right.

``Fourteen hundred and thirty seven,'' he said to himself. ``Beautiful! That pretty lass sure brought me a tidy profit.''

He lifted a glass of wine and closed his eyes, savouring the aroma before taking a sip. But suddenly, he found that his wine could not pass his throat. He coughed, spitting his wine, and opened his eyes.

``Wha....''

There was a silver blade pressed to his neck. It was curved and sharper than djinn's teeth.

``Good evening, oh fortunate baron,'' said a voice behind his left ear.

In a silver mirror on the opposite wall, Elias looked and saw a beautiful rabbit doe standing behind him. She was garbed in silks and jewels and had a long kukri knife in her right paw. In the other, she held a piece of parchment, which she put on the desk.

``I suggest you read that and sign it,'' said the rabbit.

Elias unfolded the parchment, swallowing hard as he felt the blade scrape his throat ever so slightly. The document looked official. It read:

I, Elias Al-Sammad, son of Amedaan Al-Sammad, do hereby set all my slaves free and petition for the Grand and Wise Sultan Kassim the Third to grant them citizenship in the city of Kadulah in exchange for this tribute of fifty thousand golden coins for his Grandness and twenty thousand golden coins to be given to charity and for the maintenance of the Temple of the Goddess Doniazaad, to whom His Grandness is greatly devoted. It is my wish and final testament that all my wealth afterwards be used to convert my palace into a home for destitute widows and orphans, to be run by the Doniazaadian Priestesses.

Signed: ______

``Well?'' said the rabbit.

``This....this is ridiculous!'' said Elias. ``I didn't write this.''

``I saved you the trouble,'' said the doe. ``Now sign it.''

``What?!''

``You heard me. Your signature.''

``I refuse!''

The blade dug a millimetre into his neck.

``Either you sign it or you sign your death warrant,'' said the rabbit. ``Time's running out.''

``I...I...oh, very well,'' said Elias.

His shaky paw reached for his inkwell and quill. But instead of grabbing his inkwell, his paw knocked over his glass of wine. A loud shattering noise filled the night air.

And then, a knock on the door.

``Sir!'' said the loud voice of the guard outside. ``Is everything alright?''

For just a split second, the rabbit assassin glanced at the door. And that was enough for Elias to duck down, cutting his neck slightly in the process, and rolling under his desk and shouting.

``HELP!'' he cried. ``THIEF! THIEF!''

Immediately, a loud pounding came from the door, and the rabbit cursed under her breath. She snatched the roll of parchment from the desk and stashed it right as the door was knocked off its hinges and two guards ran into the room.

``HALT!'' they yelled, but it was too late.

In an astonishing leap, the rabbit flew across the room and dived out of an open window. The guards ran to the window.

``NO, FOOLS!'' yelled Elias. ``DOWN THE STAIRS!''

He got out from under the desk and reached for a secret panel on the wall behind his chair. A hidden door opened, which led to a staircase that went down to the street. The two guards rushed through the door and down the stairs in hot pursuit.

* * *

As she flew out the window, the rabbit assassin curled up into a ball and landed on an awning just outside Elias's palace. Then she landed on the street, which was too empty and well-lit by torches to hide effectively.

``Bad situation,'' she said to herself as she ran towards the end of a street. As she turned the corner, someone bumped into her.

``OOF!''

The rabbit's first instinct was to say `Pardon me', but as she looked at who had bumped into her, she couldn't quite get the words out.

It was a wolf. A brown wolf, dressed in a green tunic and a white turban. He was muhajir, a foreigner, for no wolves lived in Kadulah. Of that she was certain. Behind him was a horse, and tied to the horse's back were two large earthenware jars that were commonly used to store oil.

``A thousand pardons, my dear lady,'' said the wolf in a voice that was rough but somehow pleasant to the ears.

The rabbit tried to answer, opening her mouth several times, but she couldn't quite find the words. The wolf noticed the knife on the rabbit's hip and her urgent demeanour.

Suddenly, a more worrying noise came.

``DOWN THE STREET!'' yelled the guards who had reached the exit of the secret passage and were now on the street just around the corner the rabbit had come from.

In a split second, the wolf understood.

``Quick!'' he said, turning around and lifting the lid to one of his earthenware jars. ``Hide in there!''

The rabbit jumped into the pot and crouched inside.

``Um...your ears...'' said the wolf.

Her ears were sticking out of the pot very conspicuously. She quickly flattened them as the wolf replaced the lid on the pot and all went dark for her. She could only listen.

``YOU! PEASANT!'' said the muffled voice of one of the guards.

``Yes, sir?'' asked the wolf politely.

``Did you see a rabbit run by here?'' asked the guard.

``A brown rabbit wearing silks and carrying a knife?'' asked the wolf.

Inside the pot, the doe gasped quietly with anger and fear.

``That double-crossing wolf!'' she thought furiously. ``I'll slit his throat as soon as they open the jar...''

``YES! I saw her! She ran towards the south entrance, towards the Nabatta Wastes!'' said the wolf.

The rabbit gasped again, but with surprise and a glint of hope.

``If you hurry, you'll catch her! If she reaches the canyons, you'll lose her! There's a thousand caverns there!''

``Thanks,'' said the guard. ``Come on! Let's get her!''

The rabbit listened as the sound of the guards grew fainter and suddenly realised the vase was moving.

``I'd better get you off the street,'' said the wolf quietly. ``It'll be safer in my inn room.''

* * *

Ten minutes later, the horse was stabled and the wolf carried the two jars on his back (one containing the rabbit) and went to his room at the local inn. When inquired by a stable boy as to why he didn't leave the jars in the stable, the wolf answered ``And risk these fine lamp oils be stolen in the middle of the night? No, thank you! I'd rather keep an eye on them.''

The rabbit felt the jar being set on the floor and heard a door being shut and bolted.

``Okay, the coast is clear,'' said the wolf's voice. ``You can come out now.''

Cautiously, her paw on the hilt of her knife, the rabbit lifted the lid and peeked out. She was in a cosy-looking room with a fire-pit in the middle, a warm fire burning cheerily. In front of her stood the wolf, with a smile and some cooking utensils.

``Make yourself comfortable, while I make us a meal, and do tell me your story,'' said the wolf as he moved towards the fire and set the cooking utensils beside the burning flame.

The rabbit stepped out of the jar and looked warily around her. The window of the inn was too small to fit through and the only door was bolted. She was safe...but also trapped.

``You'd better not be planning on betraying me,'' she said.

``If I had wanted to, I would have done it by now,'' said the wolf, getting some leeks, mushrooms and dry onions out of his saddlebags. ``I was right in front of your pursuers, after all. But I am not planning on betraying anybody, especially not a beautiful girl like you who can share supper with me. It's so lonely to eat alone, you know.''

The rabbit eyed the wolf suspiciously. He was strange. Even in this rather dire situation, he seemed to take things lightly as if he were on a picnic or holiday.

``What's your name, dear lady?'' asked the wolf.

``Megan,'' said the doe, not hesitating for a second, which surprised her.

``I am Neill,'' said the wolf.

``Neill the Oil Merchant?'' asked Megan.

``Oil merchant, sometimes,'' answered the wolf. ``Always Neill.''

Megan smiled. She smiled, even though she was not in a situation where smiling was called for. But she did anyway. It felt nice.

``Won't you sit down with me?'' asked Neill.

Megan did. She sat daintily across the fire from Neill as she watched him chop vegetables with a small almost-blunt knife. As she watched Neill open a small phial of cooking oil and pour it into a stone pot, her tummy rumbled.

Neill looked up, and so did Megan. Their eyes met...and they laughed.

``Looks like someone's hungry.''

Megan always ate lightly before a mission. She didn't remember what time she had eaten, but knew it was hours ago. Her stomach rumbled again and a little louder.

``Good thing I found you,'' said Neill as he fried mushrooms and greens. ``I needed an opinion on my culinary skills.''

Megan suddenly felt comfortable. She didn't know why, but decided not to question it. She followed her instinct and relaxed, unfastening the knife from her hip and setting it down beside her, within reach, and beside it she set down the parchment.

After a minute or two, Neill was scooping a generous helping of his fried dish into an earthenware plate and giving it to Megan. She set it in front of her as he served another plate for himself, and then they shared their meal.

The mushrooms were tender and well-cooked, the leeks gave them a nice touch of sweetness, and the onion complemented the dish perfectly. The oil was savoury and fragrant. Megan couldn't quite recognise what kind of oil it was, but the flavour was exquisite.

``I say your cooking is nothing short of excellent,'' said Megan as she finished her plate. ``Your wife is fortunate, no doubt.''

``Haha, thank you. She will be, once I find one,'' said Neill, finishing his helping.

The wolf reached for his saddlebag and pulled out a small jar. He pulled the lid off and a sweet scent of plum liquor filled the room.

``To a close call, and a new friendship,'' said Neill and offered Megan the jar.

She smiled and accepted, taking a sip of the tasty liquor, feeling the cosy sensation of a high-quality alcoholic beverage filling her with its calming warmth.

Neill took a sip, closing his eyes and smiling. Then he set the jar down beside the fire and looked into Megan's eyes.

``So...tell me your story.''

* * *

Under ordinary circumstances, Megan felt shame over nothing. Her profession left no room for such delicate emotions and she had precious few secrets left. Now, she hesitated. No one had shown her the same degree of kindness Neill had, even in the brief time she'd known him. Certainly, no one had ever stuck his neck out for her like he had.

She took another sip of the sweet plum wine and shrugged as casually as she could.

``My story doesn't make for the most palatable dinner time conversation. Anyway, I'm sure you're much more interesting. A traveling merchant like you must have seen many wonders. How can a... a lowly harem slave like me compare?''

He moved closer to her and took one of her hands in his. ``You give yourself too little credit. What mere slave could defy her captors with such boldness? Such skill? Please. Indulge me.''

Still uncertain, she did not meet his eyes. Whatever he thought of her now, she knew that much changed after her tale unfolded. Still, he had saved her life and for that she owed him whatever he asked of her.

She drew a breath to steady herself. ``I have been a slave all of my life. Like my mother before me, and her mother as well. I have had, oh, too many masters now to count. All puffed up merchants or petty nobles like the last one. Fat, self-satisfied males who think owning others makes them powerful.''

Neill gave her a sorrowful smile. ``That is an unfortunate fact of life in this part of the world.''

Megan sipped at her wine again and grimaced, more from the memories than from the sting of the alcohol. ``At first, things... weren't as bad as they might have been. I spent my younger days as a house slave. Cleaning. Cooking meals. One master had me sweep the ground in front of him wherever he walked. He never said why.''

She paused and studied the handsome brown wolf in front of her, under the guise of searching for the right words. Most males would have tried to undress her by now, or at least laid a hand on her.

She wore little more than a few strips of light purple silk that, she knew, did nothing to keep her modest. To her surprise, she saw no lust in his eyes, only a gentle concern. She took another breath to calm herself.

``After the first flowering of maturity, when my body began to fill out, my master at the time sent me to the harem. I have been there ever since. Because I am a rabbit, he assumed I must have certain appetites. That I might actually enjoy being made to service whoever he decided to give me to each night. I had four children by three different males by the time I was twenty-five.''

Turning her face away, she slipped a hand into the wide sash around her waist and withdrew a small, razor-edged knife that glittered in the firelight.

``None of my children lived to see their first birthday. My master said he would not feed the bastard spawn of a harlot, and he drowned each of them in front of me. After the last time, I decided he would never take another innocent life again.''

The memory made her wince, the way it always did. Her hands tightened around the dagger until it trembled, sending little flashes of light dancing around the room. With a shudder of disgust, she threw it across the room.

``Why are you still here?'' Neill said. ``I'd have thought you'd be long gone after you, ah, won your freedom.''

Megan drank the last of her wine and sagged a little, the tension easing from her as the warmth of the alcohol spread throughout her body.

``I couldn't leave. Not while there are still girls in the harems. Not while anyone still suffers in slavery. To fight that, I let myself be sold into slavery again and, when the time is right, I... take care of the problem. Just me and my knives.''

She stood and bowed to him, the way she'd been taught to do.

``I thank you for your hospitality and for the food. But you don't want to get involved with a girl like me. I'm a monster, just like the ones I hunt.''

She turned to go, but didn't resist when he stood and put his arms around her. He gently nuzzled her cheek.

``You're not a monster. You did what you had to do. You put your life in danger to help others, and some might say that makes you a hero.''

`Hero.' That word sounded nice to Megan's ears. It was a word she associated with legendary figures on winged horses, charging into battle and slaying wicked beasts and fiery ifrits, lighting the skies with their magic swords.

Neill sat down again and beckoned for Megan to do the same.

``And if you insist in calling yourself a monster, well...I trapped you in a jar,'' said the wolf with a joking grin. ``And you know the rules.''

``A djinni trapped in a bottle, yes. When freed, the djinni owes its liberator a favour.''

``Exactly. So, why don't you stay here for the night? I bet those guards will be on the lookout for you, so it's better if you lay low for now and go your way tomorrow, blending in with the crowds.''

Megan knew the wolf was right. There were few people out and about in the dead of night, making anyone sneaking about conspicuous. During the day, it was easier to move stealthily among the hustle and bustle of the crowd, blending in with everyone else.

``I guess I do owe you a favour, Neill,'' said Megan, sitting down again.

``I suppose so. And I think I'll ask for it right now.''

Megan winced.

``Oh boy, here it comes,'' she thought to herself. ``All males think with their zibs. I swear, I'd slice it off if I didn't genuinely owe him my life...''

``Megan, can you dance?'' asked Neill.

The rabbit's thoughts came to a halt.

``Dance?'' she asked.

Neill nodded.

``Well, yes...it's part of harem training. We are all taught to dance.''

``Excellent!'' said Neill, reaching for his saddle bag and pulling out an ocarina. ``I'll play some music and you can dance. And then we'll call it even. Sound good?''

As the wolf blew the dust out of his ocarina and flexed his fingers, Megan smiled and looked at her companion. He was strange, perhaps, but in a good way. She decided she'd forget about her current situation for a while and enjoy this calm eye of the storm.

As Neill began playing an old tune, well known to everyone even though nobody knew where it had originated, Megan slowly started her dance, weaving slowly at first, turning her head and her alluring eyes upon the wolf who continued his song. She did little twirls and swayed her hips seductively, as she had been taught so many years ago...her beads catching the firelight in a dazzling display.

``If this is all the payment he wants for saving my life,'' thought Megan. ``I may have finally found a decent male. The one oasis in the scorching desert. The diamond in the coal mine.''

Their eyes met. Neill played his jolly tune as he admired the beautiful and graceful figure dancing like a flame in the night.

* * *

Dawn came. Megan opened her eyes slowly. A sliver of light came in through the narrow window of the room. She sat up and saw that Neill was roasting flatbread on a stone skillet over a newly-kindled fire. She looked at herself briefly. Clean and comfortable. Too many times she had awoken dishevelled and sore, the stench of stale semen clinging to her fur like a nauseating miasma. This was far better, waking up to the scent of toasting bread.

``Good morning, Megan!'' said Neill as he reached for a bag of eggs to his right. ``Breakfast is almost ready.''

In five minutes, they were sitting by the fire and eating a delicious breakfast of cooked eggs sprinkled with pepper and wrapped in warm flatbread, washed down with ale that was strangely cool and refreshing. Neill told her that he had hung his oilskins of ale outside the window, so the night air would cool it and it would be refreshing in the morning.

``So, Neill,'' said Megan as she sipped her ale. ``Where are you from?''

``I am from Kass'to. The hidden village in the Nabatta Wastes.''

Megan blinked curiously.

``Nabatta? There is nothing there but desert,'' she said. ``Everyone knows that. And the canyons are full of caverns where djinns live. At least that's what everyone says.''

``That is half-true,'' said Neill. ``Nabatta is an uninhabitable wasteland, for the most part. But there is one place where life is possible and actually quite comfortable. Way up on the plateau of Mount Shalfa, there is my village.''

``But how do you survive up there?'' asked Megan.

``Believe it or not, it's quite fertile. There is water and good earth, and things grow that will not grow anywhere else for a thousand and one miles.''

``Are there many people?''

``No. Just sixteen of us,'' said Neill. ``We could use some more people to help with the farming. I do the trading, coming to town to sell lamp oil in exchange for things we can't get, like carpets and medicine.''

``Sounds like a nice place,'' said Megan. ``I wouldn't mind visiting, if I weren't a slave.''

``You wouldn't be a slave there,'' said Neill. ``Everyone is free in Kass'to.''

``You mean it?'' asked Megan.

``Of course. Nobody benefits from slavery up there. And even if we wanted to have slaves, nobody could afford them. Our entire village and a year's supply of lamp oil could barely pay for half the price of a slave.''

Megan thought about it. A place where she could be free, far from everyone she hated, a new beginning...

``What are you planning on doing?'' asked Neill.

Megan snapped out of her thoughts.

``Well...I have a mission,'' said Megan. ``To get Elias Al-Sammad to free his slaves, to steal the ledger from his desk and find out where and to whom he sold a slave girl yesterday, so I can free her. And to end his life, so he can't harm anybody ever again.''

``Sounds like you have it all figured out,'' said Neill. ``Where will the free slaves go after you finish off their masters?''

``They'll be granted citizenship,'' said Megan.

``Maybe. But what if the Sultan just buys them, instead?''

Megan hadn't thought of that.

``Well...I guess I'll break them out of the palace and escape.''

``To where?''

``Well...''

She went silent. Every other city she could escape to would have a slave market, and slavers would be only too eager to recapture and sell a pretty runaway like the girls she had seen in harems all around the city.

``How about we smuggle them to my village?'' asked Neill.

``Yes!'' said Megan suddenly and with a little jump, making her bosom jiggle slightly. ``They wouldn't have to be on the run! We could take them by night outside the city limits...and...hold on...we?''

She turned and stared at him.

``Well, naturally,'' said Neill. ``You can't get there without my help, and I am eager to rescue those poor slave girls too. We'd make a good team.''

``But I told you...you don't want to get involved with me. I am trouble.''

``A bit late for that, don't you think, my little djinni-in-a-bottle?'' said Neill with a warm smile. ``I'd say we're already involved with each other and should make the best of it. I have a plan that could work, and if it does, we could do it again and again and free many slaves.''

Megan listened intently. She had finished her ale and was now eager to go outside and do something.

``But first, I need to get prepared,'' said Neill, getting up and walking to the door. ``Stay here and wait. I'll be back.''

He left and closed the door without locking it. Megan knew she could leave if she wanted to, but she didn't want to. Everything they had talked about stirred in her mind like a swirling cauldron.

Neill returned ten minutes later with a bundle of clothes: A silk shawl and robe, a veil and a hood.

``The innkeeper's daughter was happy to sell these to me,'' said the wolf as he gave them to Megan. ``Wear them, it'll be your disguise. You will ride behind me and everyone will think you are my wife and will not be suspicious.''

Megan blushed at the word `wife'. She normally found it distasteful, but it sounded nice today.

* * *

They rode outside the city limits, discussing their plan.

``I'll knock on the servant's side door of Elias Al-Sammad's palace, offering to sell lamp oils at a two-for-one discount. Those greedy moneylenders can't resist a good deal.''

Megan giggled as she petted the big horse which was their steed. He felt soft to the touch, almost like riding a cloud.

``I'll have a cart full of large vases of oil. Twelve, in total. But three will be empty. You'll hide in one of them, and in the dead of night when the servants are asleep, you will get out and find the slave quarters and free the girls. They'll hide in the vases and I will carry them to my hideout, where we're going now, in the dead of night. When we've freed all of them, we'll take them to Kass'to.''

``It sounds like an excellent plan,'' said Megan, playing the whole scene in her mind over and over. ``I can't wait to begin.''

They reached the foothills of the Nabatta Wastes. There was nothing but rocks and cliffs, and sandy canyons that were dry as bone.

``There,'' said Neill, pointing to a cavern just out of sight on the top of a cliff. ``That is where I keep my goods for safe-keeping.''

``Wow. It's really high up,'' said Megan. ``It'll take us about a day to get up there, won't it?''

``Or a few minutes, with the proper help from my friend here,'' said Neill. ``Hang onto my waist, Megan.''

She was puzzled as the wolf bent forward and spoke to his horse.

``Let's go up, Sheitan!''

Then, all of a sudden, she felt the horse kick up and jump high. Very high, higher than any horse could jump, higher than the city walls, higher than the palm trees. Then she realised.

``We're.....FLYING!''

Two magnificent wings unfolded from the horse's sides. He kicked the air as if it were solid ground and used his wings to glide and soar high above the wastes and towards the cavern up on the cliff side.

``You have a...flying horse?!''

Neill just tilted his head back and grinned happily. They flew like the wind and in no time at all were up on the mountaintop where the cavern entrance yawned in front of them.

``In we go, Sheitan!'' said Neill. ``Let's get those supplies.''

The horse landed at the entrance of the cavern, retracted his wings under the blanket that was beneath the saddle and walked gracefully into the stone archway. Anyone who didn't know would look at him and see a regular horse with nothing special about him.

Megan was stunned with surprise and exhilaration, bliss and excitement, as they went deeper into the cave. After a minute walk, they came to an open space with a lantern hung high in the ceiling of the cave, and several shelves of assorted items lining the walls. Sheitan came to a stop and Neill dismounted, helping Megan to dismount herself.

``I keep merchandise and other things here,'' said Neill, walking towards the shelves.

``I take it those are the jars of oil we'll use to rescue the girls,'' said Megan, pointing at a line of empty jars against the left wall.

``Those are the ones,'' said Neill. ``We'll need a dozen. They're light when empty, so we'll have no trouble carrying them on our way down.''

``Once we fill them with oil, though, we'll need a cart. I know where we can get one,'' said Megan.

``Excellent. You'll hide in one. Once we're in the house, you'll do what you're best at.''

``Right,'' said Megan excitedly as they carried the empty jars and tied them to Sheitan's sides.

``The sharpest blade is the sword of justice,'' said Neill. ``That's an old saying. I don't know where it came from.''

``From an old legend,'' said Megan as they finished trying the jars. ``My mother told me that story long ago. There was a sultan who wanted a sword to administer justice. He commissioned the two best swordmasters of the land to forge a blade worthy of his position. They both forged the finest blades the world had ever seen, but the sultan could not decide which one was best. So, they made a test: they put both blades straight up in a stream, the edge pointing against the current. The first blade cut everything that came down the stream. Leaves, fish, twigs, rocks...everything. But the second one did not cut anything, until a thief ran into the stream escaping a man who was pursuing him, tripped and fell into the sword and was killed instantly.''

``Fascinating,'' said Neill as they mounted Sheitan once more. ``So which sword did the sultan choose?''

``The second sword,'' said Megan. ``And when he did so, the swordmaster who had forged the all-cutting blade was angry. He asked why he chose a sword that did not cut anything but a thief who stumbled clumsily upon it. The sultan said: Because the sword of justice is not the sword that cuts everything. It cuts only what it must, which is injustice.''

``Ahh...so that's where the saying comes from.''

``Yes. The sharpest of blades is justice, for it cuts that which it must and nothing else.''

``What a great story,'' said Neill as he tapped Sheitan lightly on the side and the horse walked towards the cave exit. ``And tonight, you will be the sword of justice.''

Megan smiled with determination. With a bit of luck, she would be administering justice. The word sounded good.

* * *

It was an hour after dinnertime when the scullery maid in Elias Al-Sammad's palace heard the door to the service entrance knock. She was a white mouse, just over twenty years of age, and had been working at Elias's palace for just under a year.

``Who could that be?'' she wondered as she peeked out of the kitchen doorway and saw the guard open the little flap on the door to see who it was.

``What is it?!'' asked the guard, a burly mastiff.

``Oils for sale, my good sir,'' said a rough but pleasant voice. The scullery maid tried to get a look, but the guard's head was blocking the little window by which she could have seen the person speaking.

``Oil?'' asked the guard.

``Fine lamp oils, scented with fine essences and spices, guaranteed to burn long and healthful heat for hours and hours,'' said the rough but affable voice.

``We don't need no oils!'' said the guard, closing the little window.

``We're having a special sale,'' said the voice behind the door. ``Two for one. Buy one, get one free.''

The guard stopped. Two for one? He knew his master never passed up a good deal. Quickly, he opened the little window again.

``Wait a moment. I'll ask the house master.''

The guard hurried upstairs to see his master and tell him about the deal. The scullery maid peeked through the window and saw a wolf. He looked poor but well-groomed. She wondered what he was doing selling oil at this hour of the night. Surely, he did not expect to sell anything to the rich moneylenders who were tight with their coins.

But suddenly, she heard loud voices coming from upstairs. She recognized her master's drunken voice.

``TWO FOR ONE!? BUY ALL THE OILS!'' said her master. ``HECK, BUY ENOUGH TO KEEP A LIGHTHOUSE GOING FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR! NEVER PASS UP A GOOD DEAL, MY BOY! HERE! TAKE THESE COINS AND BUY HIS STOCK! TELL THE MAID TO FIX HIM A SNACK AND SEND HIM ON HIS WAY.''

The guard returned with a fistful of dinars and opened the door.

``You're in luck. The master is buying all your oil. Here, twelve dinars. Bring them into the storeroom behind the kitchen, and when you're done, the maid will have some food for you.''

``Thank you, kind sir! You will not regret your purchase! Finer oils you won't find anywhere else.''

The guard resumed his post. The scullery maid felt confident enough to walk out of her hiding place and saw a merchant wolf. He carried the jars, two by two, on his back and set them in the storeroom behind the kitchen.

The wolf noticed the maid and bowed gracefully, giving her the traditional greeting reserved for ladies. She blushed, for nobody had ever greeted her with such reverence, being a simple scullery maid.

``The night is blessed with your radiance, dear lady.''

The little white mouse blushed so deeply that her face turned pink beneath her white fur.

``T-Thank you, kind merchant,'' she said, bowing deeply. ``You flatter me greatly.''

``I understand that your master has arranged for a snack to be prepared for me once I've finished bringing in these jars of fine oil,'' said the wolf.

``Y-Yes! I shall stoke the fire right away, kind sir!'' said the mouse girl and hurried into the kitchen.

Once she was gone, a voice came from inside one of the jars.

``Smooth talking, Neill. Do you use that tone with all the girls?''

``Only the pretty ones,'' said Neill jokingly. ``All right in there, Megan?''

``All is well, so far,'' said Megan. ``I heard Elias's drunken hollering just now. That'll make things easier. In my experience, when the master is drunk, everyone else in the house relaxes and slacks off.''

``That'll work out splendidly,'' said Neill. ``Well, I'll get the other jars in. Be back in a second.''

As soon as Neill had set down the last jar of oil, the scullery maid came into the storeroom with a large piece of flatbread laden with all sorts of little morsels that had been left over from dinner: dried meat, fruits, some nuts, olives and chickpeas. Neill looked at the mouse girl and could have sworn that her robes were a little looser around the bosom.

``I've prepared this little meal for you, dear merchant,'' said the mouse maid in a devoted voice.

``Thank you,'' said Neill, accepting the food. ``Do stay here with me and talk for a while before returning to your duties.''

``Oh, I...I mustn't. The master would be angry if I were to chat idly with other males without his consent,'' said the mouse girl.

``Your master is drunk as a skunk,'' said Neill as he munched on a tasty olive. ``He'll never find out. I won't tell if you won't tell.''

The mouse maid giggled and blushed at the same time, feeling an excitement she had not felt in a long while. She was alone with a male, in a dimly-lit room. She often dreamed of these activities but never dared to hope she'd ever experience them. Those were things reserved for free girls, daughters of rich lords, not lowly scullery maids.

``Tell me, dear lady. What is your name?''

``Dinah,'' said the mouse girl. ``My mother gave me that name.''

``It means `love','' said Neill, setting his food down on a nearby jar and stepping closer to the maid.

``It does,'' said Dinah, blushing profusely.

Before she knew it, the wolf had swept her into his arms. Her eyes went wide as he pulled her closer and their noses touched. Her heart pounded as Neill kissed her passionately, hugging her tight and pressing her to his chest, running his warm paws down her back and stopping just above her buttocks, pushing her into his hot body, consuming her with fiery desire.

Neill backed away from the kiss slowly and opened his eyes. He was met with an adorable sight: a blushing and flustered mouse girl, trembling with emotion, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, her chest heaving with excitement.

``Dinah,'' said Neill with a smooth voice. ``Listen carefully. You must promise me not to scream, not to do or say anything that will put you in danger. Promise?''

``I...I promise!'' she stammered.

``Very well. You are going to be free tonight,'' said Neill. ``You will be set free by my djinni.''

``A-Aha,'' nodded Dinah, trembling with the desire for more kissing.

``She is in the jar to your left. Once I leave the house, she will set you and your sisters free,'' said Neill, rubbing his nose with hers seductively. ``How many slave girls are in the house?''

``T-Three!'' blurted Dinah, her paws grasping Neill's fur tightly. ``Two ch-chambermaids upstairs, and one new girl that w-was purchased t-today! She's in the m-maiden's quarters.''

``Excellent. You must help my djinni. She will take an earthly form so as to not frighten you. Then, you must help her in every way you can. By the end of the night, you and your sisters will be free to leave. You will no longer be slaves.''

``A-And...will I see you again?!'' pleaded Dinah, trembling with desire.

``Yes. As often as you like. But that will be only if you do everything you can to help us free you. Understand?''

``Y-Yes! Yes, oh my lord!''

``Excellent.''

With that, Neill put her back on her feet and grabbed the food off the nearby vase.

``I will be outside the palace walls, waiting. When I leave, rub the jar I pointed out to you and say the words `Djinni, djinni from afar! Rise and come out of your jar.' Then the djinni will come out and she will do what she must.''

``Y-Yes, my lord!'' said Dinah. ``B-But...won't you please...take...uh...I mean...''

``Later tonight, dear Dinah,'' said Neill with a kind smile. ``After you and your sisters are free, I shall reward you most generously.''

He winked and walked towards the outside door. Dinah listened as Neill told the guard to let him out and the guard unlocked the door for him. Then he was gone.

``O-Okay,'' said Dinah, still hot and bothered but trying to focus and ignore her cravings. ``The jar. I shall do as my lord told me.''

She rubbed the jar with her paws and tail and recited the incantation.

``Djinni, djinni from afar! Rise and come out of your jar.''

The jar began to shake. Dinah backed away startled as the lid rose slowly and out came a beautiful brown rabbit wearing silks and jewels. Truly, this vision of loveliness was a djinni!

``You have summoned me, Mistress?'' said Megan in a misty ethereal voice.

``I...n-no, I did not. Your master...he told me to call upon you.''

``So it is time,'' said Megan. ``I have been summoned to set you and your sisters free from the bonds of slavery. I shall do what I have been bid and you shall assist me.''

``Yes, oh yes, great djinni of the jar!'' said Dinah, bowing instinctively.

``First, I must know where your sisters are located,'' said Megan.

``The chambermaids, Luri and Adara...are located upstairs in the servant quarters. And the new girl is in the maiden's quarters, outside the main bedroom, where Master Elias sleeps.''

``That will suffice. Now, you shall remain here and prepare a bundle of food and drink enough for four to eat on a long journey. And you must speak to nobody of this until I return.''

``I shall, oh djinni! I shall!''

Dinah watched as Megan disappeared outside the kitchen doorway and into the darkness of the courtyard, moving like a ghost in the night. For the first time since she was a tiny mouseling, she felt happy and hopeful. Diligently, she began preparing a bundle of food for her sisters and herself, fantasizing about foreign lands where she would be free to travel and enjoy the pleasures of life and flesh.

* * *

The guard nodded sleepily, his eyelids heavy as lead. He never noticed a silent figure dressed in silks sidling quietly up the stairs that led to the upper corridor where the bedrooms were. Megan walked in absolute silence in the gloom of the corridor, her eyes scanning each corner. She came to a door that was locked. A faint light could be seen seeping out from the keyhole into the darkness of the hallway.

She peered into the keyhole and saw that there were two occupants inside the room. Two rabbit girls, one creamy-brown coloured and another black as midnight, both dressed in silks. She knew at once these were the chambermaids, Luri and Adara, and that the door was locked. A locked door was no obstacle for her. She reached for her lock-picks and quickly made short work of the tumbler pins.

Quietly, she pushed the door open and sidled in.

``Who are you?'' asked the creamy-brown rabbit, named Luri.

``The new girl,'' said Megan.

``Another one?'' asked the black rabbit, named Adara. ``The master just bought one. A little girl, not a day older than twelve.''

``Where is she?'' asked Megan.

``She's on her way up to the Master's bedchambers,'' said the black rabbit.

``There was a mix-up. Wait here, I'll sort this out.''

``Hey! Wait...we can't leave this room unless the guard says so!'' cried the cream-coloured rabbit.

``Don't worry, you just stay put,'' said Megan and she hurried back out.

She swiftly and silently ran the familiar path to the master bedroom. And just as she turned the corner, she saw a tiny figure walking slowly, with leaden pace, towards the big door at the end of the corridor.

``Hey!'' whispered Megan.

The tiny figure turned around. It was a vixen. A small vixen, no older than twelve. She was dressed in pear-green silks and wore silver beads on her neck and ankles.

``W-Who are you?'' asked the vixen.

``The new girl. There's been a mix-up,'' said Megan confidently in a natural voice. ``The master asked for me, not you, silly child. Go back to the upstairs servant's quarters with Luri and Adara.''

``Oh-Okay!'' said the vixen with a look of relief on her young face.

Megan smiled and rubbed her chin lightly with a paw. The little vixen smiled. It wasn't often someone gave her such a kind gesture.

``What's your name, little sister?'' asked Megan.

``Grace,'' said the vixen.

``Well, Grace, be a good girl and go to the servant's room. I'll take care of Master,'' said Megan.

Little Grace nodded and skipped happily back towards the servant's room. Megan adjusted her knife and her jewels and walked up to the master bedroom door, pushing it open.

Inside, there was a large bed and a desk in the far corner, with stacks of coins and ledgers on top. From the bed, a drunken groan came.

``Urrrg....is that you, little minx?'' said the voice of Elias, very heavy with drink.

``Yes, oh master,'' whispered Megan seductively, quickly stepping up to the bed.

``There you are. You're my new bed-warmer. From now on, every night, you're to come here and be of service to me as I please. Do you understand?''

``Yes, oh, yes, dear lord!'' said Megan sweetly, scanning the room.

She saw a bottle of ink on the desk, next to a small jar of hemlock powder. Very expensive stuff. Nobles used it to cure insomnia, but it had to be used carefully, for inhaling too much could be deadly. Dissolved in water, it made a mixture that could be used for poison.

Megan suddenly had an idea.

``My lord, shall you wish to drink more wine before you do with me as you please?''

Elias was so drunk and groggy from snorting the hemlock powder that he could not see clearly and didn't notice that the rabbit in front of him was in fact the same doe that had tried to kill him the previous night.

``Huh? Uh, yes, yes. More wine! Let the rivers of pleasure flow!''

``As you wish, my lord,'' said Megan and scooped up his wine glass and the bottle.

Elias did not notice her quickly scooping a pawful of hemlock powder and pouring it into the glass, mixing it with wine until it was dissolved.

``To your health, my lord, and to a nice, long rest,'' said Megan, putting the glass to his lips.

Elias drank the entire glass in one go. Then he put his head to the pillow and sighed with content.

``Ahh, the joys of being rich...and powerful...and having slave wenches to sate your every desire...ahh...yes...desire...''

He fell silent. Then, after a while, began to snore.

Megan made sure he was out for the count and quickly lifted the quilt and pulled Elias's hand out from under the covers, removing his signet ring. She then hurried to the desk and took the parchment she had written the night before and smoothed it on the desk.

``Justice shall be served tonight,'' she said as she expertly copied the signature of Elias from another parchment onto hers, and then sealed it with wax and the seal of the signet ring.

Now it was official. The Sultan would get this document in the morning, Elias would be dead, everyone would assume he died by overdosing on hemlock powder, and none would be the wiser. Megan covered her tracks perfectly. Everything was set.

As Megan tiptoed out of the room, she looked back and saw Elias coughing. White foam began forming on his lips, a clear sign that the poison was working.

``Good night, oh fortunate baron!'' said Megan, closing the door quietly. ``May the gods have mercy on you.''

* * *

Megan opened the door to the servant quarters to find the two rabbit does and the vixen girl sitting on their beds.

``You?'' asked Luri, the creamy-brown doe. ``What about the master?''

``He has died,'' said Megan. ``He was dead when I got to him, sniffing too much of that hemlock powder the nobles like to indulge in.''

``DEAD?!'' cried Adara, the black rabbit.

``Shhh....not so loud,'' whispered Megan. ``You know what that means.''

``You mean...'' Grace the little vixen said. ``You mean...we're free?''

``Yes, we are,'' said Megan, walking up to the little vixen and hugging her around the shoulders. ``We are free to leave.''

``But...but what about the guards?'' asked Luri.

``They'll probably be asleep or lazing about,'' said Megan. ``Whenever the master gets drunk, everyone else slacks off. And now that he's dead, they'll have no loyalty to anyone until they get hired by a new master.''

``This is...incredible,'' said Adara, not quite able to believe their luck.

``Come, you must follow me,'' said Megan, holding little Grace's paw.

``Wait...the treasury!'' said Luri.

``What?'' asked Megan.

``The treasury! We can take some gold for ourselves,'' said the creamy doe.

``We're not thieves, sister,'' said Adara.

``It's not thieving! We're only taking our worth!'' said Luri. ``The master paid nine hundred dinars for me. That's my worth and I'm taking that much and no more. It's the law.''

``If you were to buy your freedom, that's how much you'd pay,'' said Grace.

``Fair is fair,'' said Megan. ``Where is the treasury?''

``The door right before the master's bedroom,'' said Luri. ``But it's locked.''

``Not a problem,'' said Megan. ``Lead the way.''

The two rabbit sisters led Megan and her new protege to the corridor where the master bedroom was. Halfway there, a small door that was almost invisible in the gloom appeared. Megan used her lock-picks and opened it. There was a staircase that let upwards into a room above. They all walked up and got to a landing. The sight that met their eyes was dumbfounding.

``WOW!'' gasped Grace.

Gold! Piles of gold coins, vases full of silver coins, golden pottery and silver spoons, all items that Elias had probably taken from people he lent money to in lieu of cash. There was a fortune in that room.

``Okay...nine hundred dinars,'' said Luri, taking a bag and counting coins.

Adara did likewise, counting nine hundred dinars for herself.

``How much did he pay for you, Grace?'' asked Megan, leading Grace to a small stack of coins and taking a bag in her paws.

``Twelve-hundred,'' said the little vixen.

``What? He paid more for you?'' asked Luri from the other end of the room.

``Masters pay extra for a virgin,'' said Grace.

Everyone went silent. The only noise was the clinking of gold on gold as the girls counted coins and tossed them into their bags.

``There. Nine hundred,'' said Adara.

``Nine hundred,'' said Luri.

``It's almost a shame to leave all this treasure behind,'' said Adara, looking at the beautiful gems and vases.

``We're not thieves, sister,'' said Luri. ``Remember mother's teachings.''

``I know, sister,'' said Adara. ``Just saying.''

``How much were you worth?'' asked Luri, turning to Megan.

But Megan didn't answer. She was staring at an item that was standing in the corner, rolled up. A carpet.

``If that is what I think it is,'' said Megan. ``Then...it will be more than enough payment.''

Grace looked up from her coin counting curiously at the doe. Megan quickly grabbed the carpet and unrolled it on the floor, sitting in the middle of it.

``Magic carpet, leave the floor! Fly and make your master soar!''

The three slave girls watched in awe as the carpet began to float off the floor. At first a few inches, and then a full three feet. It stopped there, as if awaiting orders from its new owner.

``WOW!'' said Grace. ``It really is a magic carpet!''

``This is incredible,'' said Adara.

``Right out of a fairy tale!'' said Luri.

``Climb on, girls,'' said Megan. ``This is our ticket out of here.''

The girls closed their bags of gold securely and sat on the carpet beside their rescuer. Megan clapped her paws and ordered the carpet to fly out a high window that showed a starry night.

``Watch your heads, girls,'' said Megan as the carpet slowly drifted out the window and into the night. ``Magic carpet, to the kitchen. We have one more girl to rescue.''

The carpet flew gracefully down into the courtyard and drifted towards the kitchen. The guards noticed nothing. They were fast asleep, knowing their master was drunk and would not wake up until midday.

In the kitchen, Dinah was sitting on a wooden stool waiting for Megan, with a bundle of food in her paws. She almost screamed but caught herself just in time, remembering her promise to Neill.

``M-Mercy!'' she whispered. ``Where...h-how...when did you...''

``Climb on board, Dinah,'' said Megan with a kind smile.

``Yes...oh, yes, great djinni of the jar!'' said Dinah, shouldering the bundle of food and sitting on the carpet next to the two rabbit sisters.

``Djinni?'' asked Grace, looking up in admiration. ``You're a djinni, big sister?''

Megan could not help laughing as she clapped her paws and ordered the carpet to fly over the wall.

``No, sweetie,'' said Megan. ``I'll explain everything as soon as we're safely on our way.''

* * *

Neill was sitting on the back steps of Elias's palace waiting. His horse, Sheitan, was standing nearby under the shadow of an awning. They waited, hoping all went well inside the palace.

Suddenly, a rectangular shadow appeared on the street that got larger and larger. Neill looked up and the sight almost made him stumble back.

``We did it!'' said Megan brightly as the magic carpet landed in front of the wolf.

``Incredible!'' said Neill. ``You chanced upon a magic carpet! These are very rare and valuable! And you saved everyone!''

``Yes. Neill, this is Grace,'' said Megan, and Grace bowed. ``Luri and Adara. And you already know Dinah,'' she added with a wink.

Dinah blushed profusely as she saw the wolf, remembering what had happened earlier.

``Girls, we haven't any time to lose,'' said Neill. ``I will guide you to your new home. Sheitan! Let's go!''

The horse came out of the shadows and stood elegantly beside the wolf.

``Um...Sir Neill,'' said Dinah shyly.

``You, Dinah, shall ride with me,'' said Neill gallantly, offering his paw for her.

She almost lost her breath as she skipped forward and Neill lifted her up safely onto Sheitan's back. The girls giggled.

``Looks like someone wants to do some riding,'' said Adara.

The girls laughed and Dinah just smiled and stuck her tongue out playfully at the bunny.

``Hold onto my waist, Dinah,'' said Neill as he mounted Sheitan.

``But don't move your paws any lower,'' teased Luri, and the girls laughed.

``Sheitan! Home we go!'' said Neill.

The girls watched in awe as the horse unfolded his wings and kicked off the ground and went high into the air.

``Magic carpet, follow that winged horse!'' said Megan, clapping her paws.

Grace hugged Megan happily as they went up into the skies and the carpet flew smoothly after the winged horse. Luri and Adara laughed and sang, looking down at the town slowly disappearing in the distance and seeing the miles of desert extend into the distance below them.

Dinah hugged Neill happily and inhaled his sweet scent as she felt the wind blow her hair and her robes every which way. She cared not for modesty, for she knew in her heart that this wolf would be seeing her in less than this very often.

Megan was perhaps the happiest of all. She had made it. She saved the girls, finished off Elias in a way that would never lead back to her, and acquired an invaluable ally in her quest to free the slaves of the cities near and far, not to mention a handy magic carpet to fly everywhere she needed.

As Megan hugged Grace, her new little sister, she played in her mind with the thoughts of happy years ahead, of slaves being freed and of villages far away where nobody would ever bother them again.

* * *

It was dawn when Neill finally said: ``Home sweet home!''

Sheitan began to descend towards a steep cliff with a wide plateau on top. The girls looked and saw nothing. It was bare as bone. But suddenly, as they flew over some tall rocks, in a hollow between the peaks of the mountains, there it was!

Kass'to! The Hidden Village!

Sheitan landed smoothly on a green meadow just outside the village and trotted lightly towards the nearest house. Megan ordered the carpet to follow at a low height, just three feet above the ground. The village was small but neatly organized. There were six buildings: Four houses, a granary and a temple to a goddess the girls did not recognize. Each house had a small stable on the outer wall, and they saw more winged horses of all ages, from foals to full grown mares and stallions.

``This is the last place in the world where winged horses live,'' said Neill. ``At least as far as we know. They've fled the people who captured them and forced them to be beasts of burden and war.''

``Much like us,'' said Adara. ``We were slaves, but now we're free.''

Sheitan came to a stop in the middle of the village. Megan's carpet stopped too and settled down on the ground with its passengers.

``I'm home!'' yelled Neill as he dismounted and helped Dinah down.

And then all of a sudden, the doors to the houses opened and people came out to greet him and the newcomers. A couple of elderly wolves approached first, clearly Neill's parents. Then an old rabbit priest, a fox and vixen and their children, and another wolf, Neill's uncle. And after them, several winged horses also came.

Introductions were made, bows and curtsies were exchanged, and the villagers prepared a table under a shady cedar tree to share a breakfast of fresh fruit, hot bread, cooked mushrooms sprinkled with powdered thyme and chickpeas. The rabbit priest held his glass of sweet plum cider up and welcomed the new daughters to the village. It was a celebration like the girls had never had. They danced, sang, Neill played his ocarina and the villagers played music with lutes and tambourines...it was an unforgettable breakfast.

* * *

After their breakfast feast, Neill led the girls around the village to show them their new home. Megan and Grace walked paw-in-paw, Adara and Luri walked with each other's arm around their waists, and Dinah held onto Neill's arm as she looked around at every detail with genuine fascination.

``You are all free now, girls,'' said Neill as they walked under the shade of a plum orchard. ``But freedom comes with a price.''

They all looked at him.

``What is that price, big brother?'' asked Grace.

``The price is responsibility.''

He let the word sink in for a while.

``So far, you have had your tasks and your masters, and you were fed whatever they saw fit and slept whenever you could. Now you are free, but you are also responsible for your own lives. You have to look after yourselves and each other, work for your food, help people whenever you can and make a life for yourselves. You can make choices on your own, without anybody telling you what to do. It is all very sudden, and it will be overwhelming at first. But you will grow accustomed to it, and the villagers and I will help you to adjust to your new life.''

``We're up to the challenge!'' said Luri.

``Yeah! We can definitely do this!'' said Adara.

``With your help and big sister Megan, we'll definitely do it!'' said Grace.

She was very excited. The little vixens who were daughters of the fox couple had been very kind with her and played games with her. It had been years since Grace had played, let alone been with children her age. She was happy as a magpie in a diamond field in her new home.

``And we have our money,'' said Adara. ``We can start building a business and we can make more money and help the village.''

``And other slave girls!'' said Luri. ``We can free them and build villages far from the cities, and they can live there.''

``Oh...that reminds me,'' said little Grace. ``Big sister Dinah, we forgot to get the gold for you. We should have taken the amount of money you were worth from the treasury.''

Dinah just smiled and squeezed Neill's arm, looking fondly up at him.

``This handsome wolfy is the most valuable treasure I could ever ask for,'' she said, kissing his cheek.

Neill blushed and the girls laughed mirthfully.

``We also have to plan on how we're going to rescue the other girls in the city,'' said Megan. ``I had a peek at Elias's ledgers. He sold a slave girl to another moneylender for eight hundred dinars two nights ago.''

``We'll rescue her!'' said Grace determinedly. ``We're an unstoppable team! With Sheitan and your magic carpet, big sister, and your cunning, we can rescue everyone!''

The girls all cheered. They were determined to free their sisters and see the end of slavery in their land, being the sharpest of blades in the land. But for now, they looked forward to a day of rest and recovery, and a night of relaxation and warmth, and sweet dreams. Tomorrow they would plan their daring rescues and adventures. Tomorrow was another day.

* * *
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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by Neill
First in pool
Last in pool
Short story featuring
MeganBryar
MeganBryar
and Neill in an Arabesque tale of adventure, also featuring
GraceTheGoldenFurred
GraceTheGoldenFurred
.

Artwork by
Saucy
Saucy

Image: https://inkbunny.net/s/1789052

Keywords
male 1,179,060, female 1,069,258, wolf 191,073, rabbit 136,977, mouse 53,494, vixen 28,365, dancer 1,934, arabesque 706, nights 497, arabian 319, silks 142, 1001 8
Details
Type: Writing - Document
Published: 1 year, 4 months ago
Rating: General

MD5 Hash for Page 1... Show Find Identical Posts [?]
Stats
70 views
5 favorites
6 comments

BBCode Tags Show [?]
 
MeganBryar
1 year, 4 months ago
I'd almost forgotten how good this story is. It's honestly one of the best I've read in a long time, and I love everything about it! It takes my really quite rough idea for the harem assassin girl and turns it into something beautiful. I love the parable of the sharpest blade, and how absolutely adorable everyone is in the end. Young Grace is the sweetest little thing, and Dinah is just precious. She gets such a wonderful prize at the end, too, the lucky mousie! You do such a wonderful job of capturing the Middle Eastern flavor of the setting, too, and your descriptions of the food is such a great detail. Thanks so much for including Megan and Grace in such a fantastic story, and for posting it, too! You're the sweetest!
Neill
1 year, 4 months ago
I am very happy you enjoy it, dear, and trust me, it was a pleasure to write!

Hehe, yes, I admit I have a soft spot for Arabesque tales, having grown up reading The 1,001 Nights and having been to the Middle East in my youth and recently too. Their mythology and literature has a very distinct flavour. And so does their food. <3
GraceTheGoldenFurred
1 year, 4 months ago
I love it! I'd forgotten about Harem Assassin Megan, so it's great to see her brought back in such style, and in such an amazing story, too! You bring everyone to life so well, especially Megan and Neill who are so cute together. I love that all he wants as a reward for helping her is the pleasure of her company and for her to dance for him. And Dinah is the cutest! Though baby Grace comes a close second, and she made me smile the whole way through. And good for Megan for rescuing her from being defiled, too! She might not mind cuddling up to friends at any time, or age, but that's quite a different thing.

Thank you for including her, too, and for sharing this story with the rest of us! You are a wolfy of many talents, and your writing is one of your best!
Neill
1 year, 4 months ago
Aww, I'm so happy you enjoyed the story, dear Grace!

Hehe, I did enjoy writing this and having a big sister/little sister dynamic between Megan and Grace. It opens up many narrative possibilities.
GraceTheGoldenFurred
1 year, 4 months ago
It was a fantastic read and just what I needed after a long week!

It really does, doesn't it? Now I wanna get some kinda cute art of baby Grace with Megan or Neill, or maybe both. I'll have to put some thought into coming up with a suitable idea, maybe.
Neill
1 year, 4 months ago
That would be super adorable, dear!! Baby Grace is a darling and would look super cute!

So glad you enjoyed the story, sweetie, and it relaxed you after a long week! I just brewed some tea and will sit down to do some reading too. ❤️
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