Sajani Tails

      It was a former Vharkylia Army private named Chass who brought the news. For now she still thought of them by their old ranks, since it helped break them down into smaller groups. He was a huge wolf, towering a good amount above her with shoulders that were broad, even for his size. His fur was gray and white. The glasses he wore made his eyes seem tiny and out of place. “Lady Sajani,” he said quickly as he poked in through the doorway. “Refugees are trying to enter the city’s north gate. Rhidayar troops are blocking them.”

      “Blocking them?” Tess asked.

      “Did you happen to hear why?” Sajani asked.

      “Something about a plague,” he answered.

      Sajani turned to Tess and said: “Have Doc Cutter meet me at the gate.” She grabbed Chass by the arm and pulled him along with her. “Let’s go.” As she was leaving, she called over her shoulder: “Make sure Ambassador Ghenis knows about this.”

      It was fairly early in the morning as they walked out the inn and into the waking city. She had to dodge a few delivery vans and ignore the street vendors who tried to accost them. It didn’t take long to get to the gate. Getting through the gate, however, would be an issue. Xahusha wasn’t a walled city. Its outermost buildings mostly faced inward and modern roads only accessed the interior through specific areas. So the city’s six gates, or main entries, were not areas where people could normally congregate.

      Today the area was flooded with people and soldiers. It was a good thing she brought Chass with her. “Step aside!” he roared to the mass before them. “Official business!” No one questioned him, even though they obviously weren’t natives. One man turned to face them with an irate look on his face, but his eyes only came to the center of the big wolf’s chest. He looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it.

      To her astonishment, Chass apologized. “Sorry sir,” he said politely, “But Lady Sajani is trying to get to the refugees.”

      The man stepped aside, and she could hear him whisper her name. The name was able to travel faster than they could and soon people were tripping over each other trying to catch a glimpse of her as she passed. At first it slowed their progress, but soon the current of bodies shifted, and they found a path opened for them all the way to where she could see soldiers standing guard.

      They walked up to the nearest one, a woman in a brown and red uniform, and Sajani asked politely, “May I pass?”

      The soldier was still elevating her gaze to look up at Chass. “I… I…” she began, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but none are allowed through.”

      “I understand,” Sajani said fairly. “Are there vykati among the refugees?”

      “A few ma’am,” the soldier said a little more firmly. She was apparently relieved Chass wasn’t there to challenge her.

      “What’s this about a plague?”

      “Not sure about that, ma’am,” she responded. “I haven’t heard anything about a plague.”

      “May I speak to your duty officer?” Sajani asked politely. “I’m here from the Vharkylia embassy.”

      “I can’t leave my post ma’am, but I’ll pass the message along.” She motioned to a man who was standing about 20 meters away. Sajani recognized the large stripes on his sleeve. He was a buck sergeant.

      He looked somewhat distracted and bored as he started to approach. When he caught sight of Chass he slowed a bit and looked more interested. Once he was closer still, he saw Sajani for the first time. He stopped for a moment and rubbed his thin mustaches twice. Apparently satisfied she was whom he thought she was, he picked up his pace, bowing deeply once he was before them. “Lady General Sajani,” he said in a courtly voice. “I hope Private Ladaher isn’t giving you any trouble.”

      “Not at all,” Sajani said offhandedly. “She’s holding her post very professionally. I was just asking to meet with your duty officer.”

      “That’d be Lieutenant Darlay, ma’am,” he said rising from his bow, “but if you’re looking to pass the line, you’ll be wanting to talk to Major Fagen. She’s the one in charge of this operation.”

      “Can you take us to see her?”

      “Of course, my lady.”

      The major wasn’t far. They were taken to a nearby command tent. The sergeant entered first followed by Chass and then Sajani. “Lady General Sajani, Minister of War of the dynast nation of Vharkylia to see you, major,” the sergeant announced. He and Chass stepped to either side of the tent’s entrance as the copper wolf stood forward.

      Most of the world’s armies used a purchased commission structure. Major Fagen was a rather obvious example of the shortcomings of that system. A short dark-skinned woman with black hair, she looked delicate enough to be knocked over if Chass decided to exhale within a meter of her—five meters if he was trying. Even the way she wore her uniform: crisp and almost too well pressed, seemed to speak of her fragileness.

      The expression she wore also spoke volumes to Sajani. The copper wolf never felt she needed to prove her courage, mental fortitude, or intelligence to anyone. In some ways, she had it a little easier, since even those who might question her rank, dared not out of respect for her mother. There were a few who felt she was just riding on her mother’s fame, but that usually abated quickly once they worked with her.

      Major Fagen, however, looked like one who felt the need to prove herself constantly. At a guess, Sajani would say the small woman commissioned in as a major and would probably retire as a major. There was a story to be told in this timid and frightened officer who tried so hard to keep up a tough appearance, but there wouldn’t be time, she was sure, to plumb the depths.

      “I told you not to disturb me!” she shouted at the sergeant.

      “Major, if you don’t want to speak to Lady General Sajani, that’s on you, ma’am,” the sergeant said in a mostly respectful tone, “but I thought it prudent to pass on the message.”

      “I can speak to her now that you’ve brought her,” the major said testily. “I’ll have words with you later, sergeant.”

      The sergeant looked nonplussed and left the tent.

      “What gives you the right to come traipsing in here?” she shouted at Sajani. “This is a Rhidayar military operation. You have no business here, wolf.” The last word was obviously intended as an insult, although even the most hot-blooded vykati wouldn’t sniff sidelong at the moniker. The tone in which it was spoken, however, was a pelt of a different color. All except those with the patience of Benayle would’ve called that a “fighting word.” Sajani wasn’t as patient as Benayle, but she could imitate it in a pinch.

      She caught the look Chass gave her. She had the impression she could say, “Sic her!” and he’d go for her throat like a well-trained Quillain hound. Instead she smiled at the major, mostly for Chass’s sake.

      “I’m here on behalf of the Vharkylia embassy,” she began.

      “Which has no jurisdiction here,” the major interrupted. “This is an internal matter. Guard!”

      Chass turned to face the soldier who just entered. The guard stopped before passing entirely into the tent and looked up at him.

      “Escort these mangy curs from my tent,” the major ordered.

      “Ma’am?” the guard said quizzically. The poor soldier obviously didn’t want any trouble.

      A slow snarl came across Chass’s face. Wolf might not be a derogatory term, but ‘cur’ certainly was pushing things and it looked like ‘mangy cur’ was far past that.

      “Chass…” Sajani started to say but was too late.

      He grabbed the guard by both arms, forcing him to drop his weapon, and lifted him up, staring him in the eyes the whole time. The terrified human said nothing. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Chass said sincerely. The soldier didn’t look convinced. “So I’m going to hit you once hard on the head and you’re going to go unconscious for a bit. Do you understand?” The guard nodded once quickly. Chass clasped the man’s uniform with one hand and slapped him once upside the head. The guard fell carefully to the ground and didn’t move.

      In the meantime, Major Fagen reached for a musket sitting on her desk. Sajani had been about to try and persuade Chass this wasn’t at all in her best interest, when she caught sight of the major raising the weapon at him. She grabbed the shorter woman’s outstretched hand just in time. “I don’t want to have to do this,” she said in her best imitation of Benayle calm, “but I’m allergic to lead and so is Chass.” Sidestepping and simultaneously grabbing under the elbow and thrusting out, she forced the major onto her back, then dropped a knee on her chest to make sure she didn’t go anywhere.

       The major didn’t move, but she did shout, “Guards! Help!”