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The policing in the Anthro world was still done by the city guard, or simply the military itself, as no separate police force existed.

  The Lieutenant was obviously a textbook example of military efficiency and honour.

  Gerak smiled.

  “I am lead to believe that your superior, Captain Felx, does not like me personally. I hope this does not lead to any problems for you if he finds out about your visit.”

  “The Captain would not let his personal feelings get in the way of his duties,” replied Millan quickly.

  Gerak gave a look that clearly indicated that he was not of the same opinion.

  “He would never hinder me in my duties. Or influence the way I undertake my work. Not without, official, reasons,” added the Lieutenant, seeing the councillor’s doubts.

  Gerak took in her words before replying.

  “As you know, as a councillor, I have a responsibility to the citizens of RefugeCross. I need to have impartial and honest information if I am to undertake this task properly. This is even more important given the unique and volatile circumstances of having such a large wolf population within our borders.”

  Millan did not respond, taking in the information at face value.

  “Now that you have been with us for a while, I am interested to know… what is your opinion of how the Captain undertakes his task as military commander of this district?” Gerak asked, before quickly adding. “Unofficially… of course.”

  Millan’s expression didn’t change, studying Gerak as closely as he was studying her.

  “Officially… and unofficially,” she started to answer, again clarifying her position, “I find the Captain’s methods amongst his own soldiers to be too informal, and his handling of the wolves too lenient.”

  Gerak smiled internally.

  “I have heard that you have had numerous run-ins with wolves before in your career,” he said knowingly, his eyes travelling noticeably to a large scar on the Lieutenant’s arm.

  “Wolves can be powerful and unpredictable,” said Millan flatly.

  “I am all too aware of this,” said Gerak in agreement. “I too am of the opinion that the wolves here in RefugeCross are too leniently handled. And pose a much larger risk then the Captain might believe.”

  Millan didn’t respond, thereby giving a measure of agreement.

  Gerak paused before continuing.

  “As you may or may not know, the Captain has personal connections with numerous wolves, directly, and indirectly.”

  Gerak’s voice had a measure of unhidden distain.

  “If these ‘relationships’ prove to blind the Captain to the threat we know to be there, and hinder him in undertaking his duty to protecting the citizens…”

  “The Captain is fully dedicated to the citizens of RefugeCross,” interrupted Millan pointedly, clearly showing her loyalty.

  “Though I do not agree with some of Captains Felx’s methods, he is fully aware of what is going on and commands respect and loyalty from the entire civilian population and, ‘all’, of his soldiers.”

  Gerak raised an eyebrow.

  “The current circumstances are indeed quite calm,” he countered, his tone becoming cold, “but that may not always be the case. If circumstances with the wolf population were to change...”

  Milan seemed to contemplate matters for a second.

  “Then I would hope our ‘policy’ would change,” she said abruptly before continuing, “we operate under the guidance of the council, with only leeway given to strategic matters and postings. No soldier can act alone against the direct wishes of the council with appropriate authority, no matter what their rank.”

  Gerak was on the back foot for a second, surprised at Millan’s seeming deduction of his intent so succinctly. He couldn’t figure out if her direct response was just a simple reaction, or considerably deeper thought. The fact that he couldn’t tell, worried the councillor in equal measure. She would definitely warrant further investigation.

  “A textbook response from a dedicated soldier of the Lion Empire,” he said eventually, his tone neutral once more.

  Millan didn’t respond.

  Unsure of how to continue for now, Gerak needing more time to review the words just said between them, he moved to close the meeting.

  “I believe that was a most informative first meeting,” he said suddenly in good cheer while getting up. ”I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time unduly.”

  Millan got up slowly, seemingly unfazed by the sudden ending.

  “I do hope we can have another one of these meetings soon,” he said, bowing respectfully. “Lions who know how dangerous wolves can be, should help each other… to prepare for any eventuality.”

  Millan nodded, bowing respectfully in return.

  “It was most informative. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you require anything,” she said calmly.

  Gerak was again impressed with her ability to completely hide her true intention despite being so direct.

  Milan nodded once more, before turning to leave the room.

  The dark haired Councillor waited a few moments before returning to his desk. His tail swung back and forth jovially as he walked. He had a smile on his face. He was pleased… over-all, she was very close to what had been promised to him from his contacts, this could prove quite useful.

  No sooner had he sat down then a figure emerged without knocking from a side room.

  The councillor glanced up to see one of his trusted private ‘administrators’, a travel bag slung over the newcomer’s shoulder.

  The scruffy looking Lion was dressed like a commoner. He had shifty eyes and a wiry frame, but otherwise had a face and build you would easily forget.

  “Yes?” asked Gerak, not unkindly.

  “The information was successfully passed on,” the lion said, walking up to the desk. He looked like he had just had a long journey.

  “The recipients of the information were quite shocked to hear exactly how dangerous halflings could become,” he said with a smile.

  “Good, good. Well done Curres,” said Gerak, “we need to make sure that our fellow citizens are informed about what they potentially will be dealing with. There is a reason why the few previous halflings throughout history… have all met with unhappy endings.”

  “A crime against nature,” said Curres, his tone bitter.

  “I agree,” said Gerak, working away while talking.

  Curres took out something from his bag, presenting a small satchel to Councillor Gerak.

  Gerak looked up from his work.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  “Yes, the ‘trader’ arrived in Bridgehead yesterday,” the administrator said with a smile.

  “Perfect timing, the exams will be in a few days,” said the Councillor with a smile, “please deliver it to our contact.”

  “There is one thing,” said Curres cautiously.

  “Yes?” asked Gerak.

  “Though he has agreed to undertake our bidding, I have noticed a level of hesitation with our dear potions master… it might be worth a personal visit to reinforce his loyalty… sooner or later.”

  “I will make a note of it,” replied Gerak, who inspected his employee a little more closely.

  “You have done well Curres,” he said with a smile, “make sure you get a good meal and rest tonight in our client’s quarters.”

  Curres smiled broadly, his eyes going wide with sudden anticipation.

  “Thank you Councillor,” Curres said with deep gratitude, backing away with a bow, eager to get to his reward.

  Gerak looked up shortly after Curres had gone. The councillor sighed. He was always overly generous when things went to plan.

  - CHAPTER FOUR -

  Good reasons for bad choices

  (The tale of Sara)

  Sara stood in the centre of her messy room. All around her were strewn clothes and all kinds of travelling kit. Items were piled onto her bed, the floor, draped over her chair as well as the
open wardrobe door.

  Sunlight streamed into the room through the open window. It illuminated the dust which hung in the air, thrown up by all of the resent activity.

  Considering that she would be going away for many days, Sara didn’t bother to try and keep her roomy tidy or in order. Anyway, Sara thought, she wouldn’t be able to hear her mother’s complaints if she wasn’t there.

  Smirking to herself with some hidden satisfaction at getting a little revenge at her controlling mother, Sara searched for some extra warm underwear.

  “Hey,” came a calm greeting from the doorway.

  Sara turned to see her raven haired sister leaning against the open doorway.

  “Hey,” replied Sara.

  Since the time of the exile incident, Sara and her sister had begun to get closer again. Their initial time together during that adventure had obviously been enough to overcome some mental hurdle both had allowed themselves to set up.

  “Do you know where Sage Filfia is taking you on your little trip yet?” Fera asked, her arms folded in front of her.

  “Sage Filfia doesn’t like to set fixed plans,” replied Sara in a sarcastic modified voice. She was imitating a crotchety older Anthro wolf.

  Fera smiled.

  “Sounds like fun,” said Fera, “like our hiking trips when we were younger.”

  Sara smiled, remembering back a few years, and how enthusiastic her father had always been.

  “If it ends up like our trip to the upper Thitchel canyons, I’m going to need more water,” said the younger sister.

  Fera also remembered back.

  “Mum sure saved our butts. We were lucky that she’s such a great tracker.”

  Sara also smiled, but it quickly faded as she once again remembered that she was still annoyed with her parents for controlling her life.

  Sara began to pack some more items into a large riding bag.

  “How are the schools at Bridgehead?” asked Sara suddenly, stopping what she was doing.

  Fera had to think for a second, the question coming out of the blue.

  “They’re good apparently, I’m only going off what some other lower planes wolves told me,” said Fera, referring to wolves that lived in the Anthro lion occupied zone, “they have a few wolf teachers. And by the sounds of it, other then the lack of combat training, they are about as good as ours. And you get to pick up more Lion dialect, which is always handy.”

  Though the base of the Anthro Wolf and Lion language was the same, they had a different dialect and often a different spelling and pronunciation, if not completely different words. Though the Peaks-End accent of the RefugeCross Lions and Torstberg Wolf territories had grown quite similar, an Anthro lion or wolf from PeaksEnd would have found it difficult to understand their opposite from territories from the centre of the Empire or Kingdom.

  “Doesn’t sound too bad,” admitted Sara.

  “It’s not like you need any more combat training anyway,” said Fera, inspecting her nails with an arrogant air.

  Sara gave her sister an un-approving look.

  “Just saying… it’s not a bad option, mum isn’t out to ruin your life quite as you think.”

  Sara’s expression turned positively hostile.

  Fera couldn’t help but add little reminders that she felt Sara was being unfair to their parents, and in particular her mother, though the older sister knew that she could only push it occasionally.

  “Just saying,” said Fera.

  “Mmm hmmm,” replied Sara.

  From behind Fera, the father of the two girls, Patt, suddenly appeared. His large hands fell on Fera’s shoulders after sweeping away some of her long black wavy locks.

  Fera turned her head to give her father a smile.

  “How are you getting on?” asked Patt to his youngest daughter.

  “Almost ready,” replied Sara.

  “Listen,” interrupted Fera quickly before the two started a conversation, “I just wanted to wish you well, I have chores to do… make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.”

  Fera’s sentence ended in a cheeky tone.

  “I won’t,” said Sara with a coy smile.

  Fera turned, leaving a hand on her father’s shoulder for a second before walking away down the hall.

  “You got everything you need?” asked Patt.

  “How am I meant to know?” asked Sara honestly, “I think so” she added a moment later, her tone more agreeable.

  Patt moved into the room, tidying up some stray clothes absentmindedly.

  “You still angry?” he asked.

  Sara grunted, not willing to give a full reply.

  “You know that your mother and I spent a long time thinking about the decisions we took, it wasn’t out of the blue.”

  “You could have asked for my opinion,” said Sara, only a slight hint of bitterness.

  It was Patt’s turn not to reply. Both knew that the decision was made for Sara, not with her. And both knew that they held different opinions regarding if this was right, there was no reason to discuss it further.

  Patt worked silently next to his daughter, tidying up and helping her where he could with only minimal conversation. The unspoken assistance, and acceptance of that assistance, amounting to a silent reconciliation of sorts.

  About half an hour later, Sara and her father Patt finished loading up an eager Misha with the last of the baggage. The young horse/deer pawing the ground impatiently.

  Sara’s mother Sallice came around the back of the family’s large barn from the direction of the vegetable patch where she had been working. The older female Anthro wolf was carrying a large basket full of bulbous reddish root vegetables.

  The large barn she was walking around was used to house the family’s livestock over winter. Some of these massive, round bodied morsets were grazing in the upper fields nearby. Their thick stubby legs propelled their shaggy round bodies over the grass. The effect of which was to look like a massive sliding brown marbles in the long grass.

  Patt immediately went over to help his wife as she walked towards the two in the compound, and towards their house.

  “Thanks” said Sallice gratefully as Patt relieved her of the heavy load.

  Sara mounted up, and then rode over to her two standing parents.

  “Ready to go?” asked Sara’s mother.

  “I think so,” answered Sara, her tone neutral.

  There was a pause, which quickly became more awkward. The pointy ears of the three wolves showed that clearly enough.

  “Look Sara,” said Sallice suddenly, taking the initiative, “this is a great opportunity, even if we took the decision for you.”

  Sara frowned, but her mother pushed on.

  “Sage Filfia came to us,” said the older female wolf, wiping the side of her brown-furred face with the back of her hand. She had just been working hard.

  “She asked specifically for you, I don’t have to tell you how unusual that is. I don’t remember ever hearing that she took an apprentice before. She must have seen something pretty special in you during the rescue from the exiles.”

  Sara couldn’t help but enjoy the compliment from her mother, particularly considering it was for the rescue. Her mother had not really acknowledged Sara’s good deeds all those months ago.

  Sara nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Good,” said Sallice. She was reading her daughters faint emotions and recognised that the two females had reached an understanding of sorts.

  “Will I get my freedom back when I return?” asked Sara, referring to the virtual house arrest she had been under for months now.

  Sallice frowned, but then her mood lightened.

  “We’ll discuss it when you get back,” she said simply.

  Sara nodded, that was more of a positive signal then she had gotten for a while.

  “Good luck,” said Patt kindly.

  Sara nodded again.

  “I’ll send a message once I know what Filfia has planned,” said Sara, kn
owing that with winter approaching, there was plenty to do back home.

  Sallice acknowledged her daughters sense of responsibility with a nod of the head and the slightest of smiles.

  Sara flicked the rains and her steed Misha sprang forward.

  Sallice and Patt watched their daughter ride away down the path that led from the house.

  Sara wound her way between the upper fields towards the forest in the distance.

  “Do you think we made the right decision?” asked Patt suddenly, still holding the heavy basket.

  Sallice turned to walk towards the house.

  Patt walked up beside her as she opened the outer hatch to the large cellar underneath their home.

  “We don’t actually know Sage Filfia at all,” Patt continued, walking down the steps into the dark and cool space.

  “We know ‘of’ her though,” said Sallice, moving some heavy sacks to one side.

  “I suppose you can’t go a whole lifetime of making honourable decisions and not be a good Anthro,” said Patt in general, thinking out loud.

  Patt moved over, and the two wolves lifted up the large basket so as to empty it into an even larger container made of wood and thatch in one of the basic wooden shelves.

  “Most of those actions were some time ago,” mused Sallice out loud, it was her turn to voice doubt in this open discussion.

  The married couple had a habit of running conversations in parallel with themselves, both twisting and turning their thoughts around each others spoken train of thought, like some type of self conversational dance.

  Sallice returned some cloth coverings to the winter stores.

  “She’s become quite a recluse in recent years,” added Sallice.

  “That’s more a reason to trust her I suppose,” added Patt.

  The two walked back up into the sunlight.

  “I suppose it proves that she’s not after power or fame or anything else,” said Sallice closing the large heavy cellar doors. “As we said” continued the brown furred wolf mother, “we’ll discuss it with Sara when she gets back from this first trip. It is more a probation for both sides after all.”

  Patt nodded.

  Sallice looked out at the forest in the distance.