The sun’s first rays had hardly begun to appear over the eastern horizon when Cuate tel-Furzat found himself hurrying through the Emperor Palace’s expansive marble corridors. He was a gray fox, and as such he was small in form. His size hardly hindered his hurried journey to the conference room where he was supposed to give a speech to a band of ruthless mercenaries and bounty hunters. Cuate gritted his teeth at the thought of such scum and villain in the blessed halls of the Palace. He could hardly believe that the emperor would allow such filth even near the palace. His ears flattened back against his skull, showing his displeasure at his mission, but his step never faltered.Cuate tel-Furzat was the foreign affairs ambassador for Emperor Jacques le Royal, and his rich silk robes hinted at his high position. Though he hardly considered mercenaries, bounty hunters and criminals to be worthy of the foreign affairs office, he could not and would not argue with his emperor. His loyalty ran to the bone.
He hurried down the large and empty halls, his silver slippers padding on the swirling marble floors, polished to shining perfection. On the corridor walls hung tapestries woven from velvet and satin, depicting beautiful scenery and bloody battles. Blue and gold curtains, reaching from floor to ceiling, hung over expansive glass and stained glass windows that covered almost entire walls. The curtains had not yet been open by the servants, so tall lampposts and torches in niches and crevices in the walls cast light into the arcade. The armor of knights long gone gave one final eerie touch to the halls, standing silent and ever watchful at the corners of connecting corridors.
His mind on his mission ahead, Ambassador Cuate did not even notice his surroundings. His fingers tapped absently on the scroll he carried in one paw. The scroll was important orders, sealed by the Emperor himself, concerning the future of the hunters.
After walking down corridor after corridor, he finally came to a long hall lined with thick wooden doors. This was the hall of the conference rooms, where meetings of great importance took place. Though this is hardly a meeting of great importance, Cuate grated. He stalked to the second door on the right, where a group of imperial soldiers stood at attention. They were here in case the filth inside the conference room grew too rowdy. Nodding to the captain of the troop, Cuate opened the conference room door and stepped inside. The stench of unwashed bodies greeted him, and at first he thought he would throw up. Whipping a white handkerchief from the folds of his robes, he held it to his nose as his eyes swept the room.
A long oak table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by matching chairs. The chairs were occupied by bounty hunters, assassins, mercenaries, and animals of the dangerous society. Few looked like they had bathed recently, and most were covered in dirt, tobacco juice, and the smell of alcohol. It was a gruesome sight that met Cuate’s eyes. Mud-covered boots were propped up on the once-clean table. Weapons were unsheathed and in the middle of being wiped and cleaned on clothes. Cuate even spotted a few of the scum picking fleas and ticks from their fur. Once again he had the urge to vomit, but he held it in.
Eager to have this nightmare ended, he hurriedly opened the sealed scroll in his hand and began to read.
“’From the Emperor of Renard, Jacques le Royal, the High Council, and the citizens of the Fox, greetings.’” Cuate was pleased when the room immediately grew quiet, and his voice grew louder and confident. “’You have all been carefully hand-picked by members of the High Council for reasons of great importance. Neferti Tilab, the emperor of the Ferret, is of grave danger to the survival of the Fox and perhaps even the world. Ongoing attempts to defeat the ferret emperor’s army have failed. Because of this fact, you have been chosen on account of your skills in weaponry and stealth to assassinate Nerferti Tilab. You will travel to the Ferret Realm, penetrate the Royaume de Furet, sneak or fight your way past the ferret guards, and kill its emperor, Neferti Tilab. To insure that you carry out your mission, you will be paid only a third of the reward money now. If you are successful of assassinating Tilab and returning with his signet ring, the rest of the reward will be paid to you in full.’” Cuate lowered the scroll and cleared his throat, his eyes traveling over the grudgingly respectful animals. “You may carry out this mission using any means that you are comfortable with,” he informed them. “It is your life, so I suggest you go about it wisely. Because of the urgency of this mission, you will be paired together with a carefully chosen other who we feel will benefit your performance. This will be done to increase to chances of success on the mission.”
A raccoon bounty hunter whispered loudly to his neighbor, “What he means is we’re gonna be paired together so we can kill each other before we even start this darned mission. That way they won’t have to pay so much money.” The raccoon snickered at his own joke while several growls emanated from those seated around the table.
Cuate shifted uncomfortably, seeing unrest growing in those at the table.
Another hunter spoke up, this one a beautiful female cloaked in a dark brown-black cape. “You said nothing about this partnering!” Her Loupine, or Spanish, accented voice was a snarl, her displeasure at the idea evident. She appeared to be a coyote, although it was difficult to tell beneath the heavy cloak that she wore. Her paws curled into fists on the table
“Yeah, what if we do not like this new idea of the Emperor’s?” asked a female red fox. Her stormy eyes belied the calm in her voice. By her accent, she was obviously from Renard. Her heeled leather boots were propped on the conference table as she idly polished a long knife, but her jaw showed the tension inside of her. Cuate was surprised that such an attractive young woman would be a hunter.
“If you do not like ‘this new idea of the Emperor’s’,” Cuate answered smoothly, “then you will not receive your pay. Before or after the mission.”
Cuate had hardly finished speaking when angry growls erupted, and the hunters jumped from their seats, paws reaching for weapons. The thought of no pay provoked their wrath, and the gray fox ambassador took an uneasy step backwards. “Now, now, there is no need for this,” he stated, struggling to keep his voice calm. His eyes had fallen on the seventeen-inch knife that the female coyote’s paw had fallen on. “If you have a problem, you can submit it to the Council or their ambassadors and they will meditate on it.” Cuate’s brown eyes narrowed. “Or you can take it up with the Royal Guard. I’m sure they would be interested in hearing your complaints.” With that, he let out a shrill whistle. The hunters watched in surprise as the door to the conference room opened and a division of the Royal Guard entered the room. The sight of the Royal Guard’s blue and white uniform and long swords caused the hired assassins eyes to widen. With exchanged glances, the hunters let go of their weapons and slipped back into their seats while Cuate watched with satisfaction. Giving a nod to the Royal Guard captain, he opened his scroll again.
“Now, onto the pairing.” He paused to unroll the scroll further, and then looked up at a mole with a patch over one eye and rotting teeth. “Digger the Mole, you’re with Dark Skull.” He felt dirty just from saying the names.
Dark Skull, a grimy black rat missing an ear and half a tail, cast a look across the table at the mole. They nodded with grudging respect to each other.
“Koff the Raccoon, you’re with Lance the Elk. Pickle Raven and Tommy Skunk, you two are together. Oh, and Raven. The last partner you had complained about how you kept stealing his food. Don’t do it again or your pay will be cut in half.” Cuate ignored the raven’s angry squawks and eyed the list. The hair on the back of his neck rose on end, and he cleared his throat nervously. The next names were familiar to him- painfully so.
“Ange de Venger, you’re with El Cazador Invisible.”
Pushing her curls from her face, Ange de Venger glanced around for the animal she was teamed up with. The black leather suit she wore creaked with her movements.
A young red fox, Ange de Venger was a very beautiful vixen- a dangerous factor in her line of work. More than one male animal had noticed her beauty and tried to take advantage of her. Most of them who had tried were either dead, or had been unconscious within a few seconds. Even now, her long fingers drummed on the emerald engraved handle of her sword as her eyes swept the room for her partner.
Standing at five six and weighing about one hundred twenty pounds, her features were strangely aristocratic for a mercenary. A mane of red curls with black highlights tumbled past her shoulders, a few strands lining her angular face. Almond shaped eyes were wise beyond their years as they peeked from beneath black lashes. It was at that moment that her eyes fell upon her partner. El Cazador Invisible was unmistakable.
Ange had been hoping that she wasn’t going to be paired up with a smelly, snorting, underbelly of an animal, and at the sight of El Cazador Invisible she realized she had gotten what she’d hoped for. Even beneath the cloak and hood that covered El Cazador’s features, Ange could tell she was well groomed and clean.
The gazes of El Cazador and Ange de Venger met. From underneath the hood, Ange could clearly see the yellow eyes throwing silent daggers at her. A feeling of unease swept over Ange as she sensed Cazador’s hate for foxes. It was a gift that Ange de Venger had; a sixth sense of a sort that allowed her to sense others feelings. At this moment, she almost wished she didn’t have that sixth sense. Ange grimaced under Cazador’s hateful gaze and looked away with a sigh. Her paw tightened over the handle of her sword. It was obvious that there would be trouble ahead for the two partners.
El Cazador Invisible hated foxes. She hated them with a passion. She had hated them for years, and at the very presence of a fox that anger was rekindled. For some reason, the sight of this particular fox caused the hate to well up even more than usual. Cazador could not figure out why this fox had such an effect on her, but the vixen’s features looked vaguely familiar. Cazador’s instincts told her that she and Ange de Venger had met before, sometime long ago. She could not remember the event that they’d met. It was as if the memory was buried deep within her mind, and as much as she tried she could not resurface the memory. She did, however, remember the feelings, feelings of anger, loss, and hatred. Feelings that was due to that meeting.
Cazador dug her large claws into the wood table, still glaring at the fox, struggling to keep a grip on her emotions. She could not kill the vixen now, but perhaps later when they were alone. At that moment the vixen met her gaze, her green eyes steady and betraying nothing. The two stared at each other for only a moment; then they both turned their attention back to the ambassador, who was still speaking. They tried to listen to his words and orders, but they couldn’t focus. El Cazador was over come by anger, and Ange de Venger by a distorted array of emotions.
Finally finished assigning partners, Cuate tel-Furzat lowered the scroll and scanned the inhabitants of the room. “All right, then. Any questions?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “Good. The guards will escort you out. You will be paid at the gate.” Immediately everyone began talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers. Ignoring them all, the ambassador rolled up the scroll and left the room.