FA+
Shop
689
Views
Views
7
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / General Furry Art
Species Red Panda
Size 120 x 118
File Size 60.9 kB
Report this content
More from Walt46
Listed in Folders
Luck of the Dragon
© 2018 by Walter D. Reimer
Chapter Two hundred Fifty-two
(Rosie Baumgartner courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by
moodyferret
Xiu resolved to write to her mother and ask her if her father drooled on his pillow as much as Hao did. She smiled and ran a paw over her robe, smoothing it over her belly and imagining she could feel a slight swelling there. It was probably her imagination.
She would make an appointment to see a doctor as soon as possible.
Her ears dipped as Hao rolled over, his tail flopping off the mattress and part of the appendage resting on the floor. Xiu stifled a giggle and busied herself with getting breakfast ready. It had been an interesting night. There hadn’t been much conversation, but there had been a lot of laughter.
Mikilani had clearly resented being placed in a high chair. The infant red panda had demonstrated his displeasure by first slapping the tray that held him in place and then pounding on it with his fists and yelling in a random mixture of Spontoonie, Chinese, and English, to the effect that he wanted his mother to get him out of the “trap.” There were a few times when food and drink orders had to be repeated due to the racket he was raising.
When her nephew’s bowl of stewed breadfruit and mashed banana was brought to the table, Shin actually looked nervous. She was sitting closest to her older brother.
Fortunately, Mikilani appeared to be a gourmand, and maybe two-thirds of his food was very happily accepted when Peng-wum spoon-fed him. That left the other third, most of which ended up liberally spread around his portion of the table and all over his father.
Shin laughed at him, and collected a thrown dollop of baby food on the tip of her nose for her trouble. What made the riposte impressive was the fact that Peng-wum had managed an accurate throw with food smeared on his eyeglasses.
The sound of the stovetop percolator and the smell of coffee started to fill the small kitchen and Xiu stepped into the bedroom, moving as quietly as she could, to wake her husband.
Hao was still sprawled on the bed, his tail trailing off onto the floor, but Xiu could see that his right paw was under his pillow. Certain other tell-tale signs were there; a slight movement of the fur on his back as muscles tensed, showing that even while asleep he was on guard.
She smiled and gently cleared her throat. “Hao?”
The sleeping figure stirred. “’Mornin,’ Xiu,” he said sleepily, and gingerly eased his paw out from under the pillow. He half-rolled to his left, blinking up at her. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled. “Your eyes are still closed.”
“You’re still beautiful.”
Xiu leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose, recoiling just a bit. “Ugh, morning breath. Go get cleaned up, and I’ll have breakfast ready.”
“’Kay,” and he started to shift on the bed, rolling further over onto his back as his tail came up to drape over his legs. Sitting up, he yawned before getting to his feet and walking to the bathroom. There was the sound of him spitting, and he asked, “How long?”
“Coffee’s ready now,” she called back.
“Good,” and he entered the kitchen clad in boxers and an undershirt, absently scratching under his ribs. He yawned and came up behind his wife as she placed a frying pan on the stove. He slipped his arms around her waist and she eased back against him as he nuzzled her neck. “You smell nice,” he said, his voice muffled by her fur.
Xiu giggled and added butter to the frying pan. “That’s the coffee. I haven’t had a bath yet. Now shoo and get yourself some coffee while I make us something to eat.” He chuckled and kissed her ear before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Feeling better?” she asked.
He paused, mug partway to his lips. “Huh?”
“You seemed to have a lot on your mind – and the way you kept looking at Fei-cui had me worried, frankly.”
Hao’s expression fell and he looked at his coffee before taking a deep drink of it. “You know we don’t get along.”
There was a soft crack, followed by a sizzle as Xiu started putting eggs in the pan. “I know.” She toyed with the edges of the eggs with a spatula. Hao liked his eggs over easy.
“I’m . . . “
“Yes?” She turned away from the pan just long enough to put bread in the toaster.
He gazed at her over the brim of his mug. “I’m worried, a little.” He got up and refilled his cup, took the toast out of the toaster and started spreading butter on it. “That I’ll be away, and Fei-cui’ll fill your ears with all sorts of – “ He stopped as she put a finger to his lips.
“No, Hao,” the red panda femme said. “She’s your cousin, but you are my husband. I won’t hear a word against you, not from her, or that fox with the loud necktie.” At the mention of Sergeant Brush, Hao grinned. “Breakfast is ready,” and she turned away to grab the frying pan with a potholder and slid the eggs onto two plates. The two started eating. After a moment Xiu said, “There is something I’d like you to do today.”
“Oh?”
Her tail flirted above her head. “I want to put a few bets down on the races.”
Hao grinned. “Sure, I’ll take you around. Lu Ting is one of the best, and a friend too. Any ideas on where to put your money?”
She thought for a moment. “Think the British entry has a chance?”
“Against that big German plane? Probably not. Shin was all wound up about the MacArran plane, and I like the look of the new Rain Island plane, so it might be good to spread a little money around.”
“Okay. There is one other thing I want to put some money on, love.”
“What’s that?” He resisted the urge to tell her that there was already a betting line on her baby. Betting currently had them having a girl as firstborn, by three to one. “There’s a boxing tournament, and the big match is supposed to be between the Royal Navy and the Royal Air Force – “
“Shin and Fang.”
Hao paused and started laughing. “Sure,” he managed to say when he had caught his breath, “I know a few people who are covering that line. They’re friends of White Lotus Chen, though, so they might try to stiff you on the commission.” He caught the look in her eyes and asked, “Are you wanting to go watch them fight?”
“Yes.”
*********
Something so strange was bound to draw a crowd.
The feline’s pace never slackened and it was completely oblivious to the growing number of people who were following it to see what it might do. Amazingly, no one was trying to stop the feline as it made its way through Fort Bob. Part of the crowd went back to the town as the apparition headed south toward the Beach.
Even the Bus, known for running people over when any delay threatened its schedule, yielded the right-of-way to it. A pair of young canines dashed past the figure to pass the word along.
Two fortified hills flanked the road a hundred yards from the Lucky Dragon and the Ni & Sons building, each equipped with a brace of twenty-millimeter cannons Hao had acquired from a hijacked Japanese freighter the previous year. The gunners held their fire, waiting for the orders of the tall lion standing in the middle of the road.
Clarence bore a twelve-gauge shotgun in his paws, the barrel sawed off almost down to the forend. A large Great War-vintage revolver was belted to his right hip. The feline came within a few paces’ distance and the ex-soldier brought the shotgun to a hip shooting stance and roared, “Stop!”
The glass-eyed feline stopped, the crowd coming to a halt and even falling back a bit, aware of the cannons behind them and the shotgun in front of them. More than a few furs decided to head back to Fort Bob.
The lion’s crossed eyes met the milky glass that replaced the feline’s eyes. Clarence suppressed a shudder and said, “State your business.”
The feline moved its head slightly, taking in the lion and its surroundings, eventually stopping as it caught sight of the Lucky Dragon’s sign. After a few moments it moved to face Clarence again, the expression unwavering.
It was more than a little unnerving.
The feline’s lips parted and it took several breaths before it finally said in unaccented, monotone English, “I bear . . . a message . . . for Ni Hei.”
When nothing else was forthcoming, Clarence asked, “From whom?”
“From . . . Cranium Island.”
Suddenly the rest of the crowd felt an urgent need to be elsewhere.
A few moments later a large space had been cleared in the Lucky Dragon’s main room, and Clarence and two paw-picked furs with shotguns watched the feline warily as Ni Hei sat down in a chair facing the messenger. Hei took a few breaths from his oxygen tank and moved the mask away. “I am Ni Hei,” he said in English.
The red panda’s eyes went wide as the Japanese feline replied in faultless Court Dialect, “Greetings, Honored Ni Hei. This is the response to the message you sent to Cranium Island, as approved by the Ad Hoc Peer Review Committee formed to consider your request.”
“You honor me by the response, Esteemed Sir,” Hei replied after a moment. He hadn’t had to use the Court Dialect since Shen Jintao had died. He gestured at the feline. “I confess that I am honored that you deem me worthy of such an . . . unorthodox messenger.”
“Regrettably, documents,” the voice said, “can be forged. One member of the Committee felt that it was necessary, in order to prove that you speak with us, and not some dishonorable deceiver.” The feline waited courteously as Hei took a few gulps of oxygen. “We desire to hear more of this proposal of yours, Honored Ni,” and the red panda sensed that the intelligence behind the eyes was appraising him.
Business.
Between sips of water and occasional pauses for breath, Hei went into greater detail. The feline stood still, like a statue made of flesh and bone, but one got the impression that there was someone, somewhere, taking notes.
“This would be a formal, binding agreement?” the feline asked.
Hei nodded and moved his mask aside. “The barbarian devils on the Hill do not see the danger as I and my son do,” he said. “They think that they can bribe their way out of anything.” He turned his head and spat.
The feline’s mouth dropped open and it began to laugh. The laugh started at a low, measured cadence but gradually grew faster and higher-pitched until it became a maniacal cackle that made one bodyguard flinch and the others lay their ears back. Ni Hei stayed seated, trying hard to maintain a solemn, businesslike expression.
As abruptly as it started, the laugh stopped.
The feline said, “The proposal will be considered. Representations shall be made, Honored Ni Hei.”
The red panda smiled. “My thanks, Honored Sir. May I offer a glass of water? Tea, perhaps? Your messenger has come a long way.”
“You are most hospitable, but this at present does not need water or food. I shall, however, have to allow some waste heat to dissipate.”
Hei tried to figure out what was meant by that, and froze as the figure moved. As casually as doffing a hat, the feline raised its right paw and removed the top of its skull.
One of the guards fainted dead away, and one of the Casino’s girls (who had obviously been spying) screamed.
*********
“Rosie! Phone call for you,” and Vicky Knox held out the pawset to her boss as the cheetah came around the lunch counter. Rosie mouthed thank you to the vixen and started talking as Vicky returned to tending the customers. Speed Week was always a busy time, even for tourist season, and Rosie had hired on two native otter girls, twins, to help with the increased business.
Rosie had no worries about their ability to take care of themselves. When B’onss and K’nutt offered some improper proposals in Spontoonie, the two tods reaped a liberal harvest of smacks to the ears from both girls.
Vicky was taking one newcomer’s order when a sound made her ears perk and swivel. “Rosie? What’s up?”
The cheetah stood by the phone, her paw poised as if she were still holding the phone’s pawset. The pawset, though, lay on the floor, connected to the rest of the wall-mounted phone by its cord.
She wasn’t moving.
"Rosie?" Vicky asked as she picked the pawset up from the floor and hung up the phone. Her boss stood there, rooted to the ground with her tail trailing limply around her feet. "Rosie, are you okeh?" She was about to put her paws on the cheetah femme's shoulders when Rosie stirred a bit, her lips moving as she whispered in Yiddish.
The vixen's ears cocked and she listened closely as Rosie murmured over and over, "Vos vet ikh zogn Franneleh?”
Vicky Knox had been a carny before settling in Spontoon, and the traveling shows had been to parts of the United States that had Jewish communities. She understood the lingo, a little.
“What do I tell Franneleh?”
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
© 2018 by Walter D. Reimer
Chapter Two hundred Fifty-two
(Rosie Baumgartner courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by
moodyferretXiu resolved to write to her mother and ask her if her father drooled on his pillow as much as Hao did. She smiled and ran a paw over her robe, smoothing it over her belly and imagining she could feel a slight swelling there. It was probably her imagination.
She would make an appointment to see a doctor as soon as possible.
Her ears dipped as Hao rolled over, his tail flopping off the mattress and part of the appendage resting on the floor. Xiu stifled a giggle and busied herself with getting breakfast ready. It had been an interesting night. There hadn’t been much conversation, but there had been a lot of laughter.
Mikilani had clearly resented being placed in a high chair. The infant red panda had demonstrated his displeasure by first slapping the tray that held him in place and then pounding on it with his fists and yelling in a random mixture of Spontoonie, Chinese, and English, to the effect that he wanted his mother to get him out of the “trap.” There were a few times when food and drink orders had to be repeated due to the racket he was raising.
When her nephew’s bowl of stewed breadfruit and mashed banana was brought to the table, Shin actually looked nervous. She was sitting closest to her older brother.
Fortunately, Mikilani appeared to be a gourmand, and maybe two-thirds of his food was very happily accepted when Peng-wum spoon-fed him. That left the other third, most of which ended up liberally spread around his portion of the table and all over his father.
Shin laughed at him, and collected a thrown dollop of baby food on the tip of her nose for her trouble. What made the riposte impressive was the fact that Peng-wum had managed an accurate throw with food smeared on his eyeglasses.
The sound of the stovetop percolator and the smell of coffee started to fill the small kitchen and Xiu stepped into the bedroom, moving as quietly as she could, to wake her husband.
Hao was still sprawled on the bed, his tail trailing off onto the floor, but Xiu could see that his right paw was under his pillow. Certain other tell-tale signs were there; a slight movement of the fur on his back as muscles tensed, showing that even while asleep he was on guard.
She smiled and gently cleared her throat. “Hao?”
The sleeping figure stirred. “’Mornin,’ Xiu,” he said sleepily, and gingerly eased his paw out from under the pillow. He half-rolled to his left, blinking up at her. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled. “Your eyes are still closed.”
“You’re still beautiful.”
Xiu leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose, recoiling just a bit. “Ugh, morning breath. Go get cleaned up, and I’ll have breakfast ready.”
“’Kay,” and he started to shift on the bed, rolling further over onto his back as his tail came up to drape over his legs. Sitting up, he yawned before getting to his feet and walking to the bathroom. There was the sound of him spitting, and he asked, “How long?”
“Coffee’s ready now,” she called back.
“Good,” and he entered the kitchen clad in boxers and an undershirt, absently scratching under his ribs. He yawned and came up behind his wife as she placed a frying pan on the stove. He slipped his arms around her waist and she eased back against him as he nuzzled her neck. “You smell nice,” he said, his voice muffled by her fur.
Xiu giggled and added butter to the frying pan. “That’s the coffee. I haven’t had a bath yet. Now shoo and get yourself some coffee while I make us something to eat.” He chuckled and kissed her ear before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Feeling better?” she asked.
He paused, mug partway to his lips. “Huh?”
“You seemed to have a lot on your mind – and the way you kept looking at Fei-cui had me worried, frankly.”
Hao’s expression fell and he looked at his coffee before taking a deep drink of it. “You know we don’t get along.”
There was a soft crack, followed by a sizzle as Xiu started putting eggs in the pan. “I know.” She toyed with the edges of the eggs with a spatula. Hao liked his eggs over easy.
“I’m . . . “
“Yes?” She turned away from the pan just long enough to put bread in the toaster.
He gazed at her over the brim of his mug. “I’m worried, a little.” He got up and refilled his cup, took the toast out of the toaster and started spreading butter on it. “That I’ll be away, and Fei-cui’ll fill your ears with all sorts of – “ He stopped as she put a finger to his lips.
“No, Hao,” the red panda femme said. “She’s your cousin, but you are my husband. I won’t hear a word against you, not from her, or that fox with the loud necktie.” At the mention of Sergeant Brush, Hao grinned. “Breakfast is ready,” and she turned away to grab the frying pan with a potholder and slid the eggs onto two plates. The two started eating. After a moment Xiu said, “There is something I’d like you to do today.”
“Oh?”
Her tail flirted above her head. “I want to put a few bets down on the races.”
Hao grinned. “Sure, I’ll take you around. Lu Ting is one of the best, and a friend too. Any ideas on where to put your money?”
She thought for a moment. “Think the British entry has a chance?”
“Against that big German plane? Probably not. Shin was all wound up about the MacArran plane, and I like the look of the new Rain Island plane, so it might be good to spread a little money around.”
“Okay. There is one other thing I want to put some money on, love.”
“What’s that?” He resisted the urge to tell her that there was already a betting line on her baby. Betting currently had them having a girl as firstborn, by three to one. “There’s a boxing tournament, and the big match is supposed to be between the Royal Navy and the Royal Air Force – “
“Shin and Fang.”
Hao paused and started laughing. “Sure,” he managed to say when he had caught his breath, “I know a few people who are covering that line. They’re friends of White Lotus Chen, though, so they might try to stiff you on the commission.” He caught the look in her eyes and asked, “Are you wanting to go watch them fight?”
“Yes.”
*********
Something so strange was bound to draw a crowd.
The feline’s pace never slackened and it was completely oblivious to the growing number of people who were following it to see what it might do. Amazingly, no one was trying to stop the feline as it made its way through Fort Bob. Part of the crowd went back to the town as the apparition headed south toward the Beach.
Even the Bus, known for running people over when any delay threatened its schedule, yielded the right-of-way to it. A pair of young canines dashed past the figure to pass the word along.
Two fortified hills flanked the road a hundred yards from the Lucky Dragon and the Ni & Sons building, each equipped with a brace of twenty-millimeter cannons Hao had acquired from a hijacked Japanese freighter the previous year. The gunners held their fire, waiting for the orders of the tall lion standing in the middle of the road.
Clarence bore a twelve-gauge shotgun in his paws, the barrel sawed off almost down to the forend. A large Great War-vintage revolver was belted to his right hip. The feline came within a few paces’ distance and the ex-soldier brought the shotgun to a hip shooting stance and roared, “Stop!”
The glass-eyed feline stopped, the crowd coming to a halt and even falling back a bit, aware of the cannons behind them and the shotgun in front of them. More than a few furs decided to head back to Fort Bob.
The lion’s crossed eyes met the milky glass that replaced the feline’s eyes. Clarence suppressed a shudder and said, “State your business.”
The feline moved its head slightly, taking in the lion and its surroundings, eventually stopping as it caught sight of the Lucky Dragon’s sign. After a few moments it moved to face Clarence again, the expression unwavering.
It was more than a little unnerving.
The feline’s lips parted and it took several breaths before it finally said in unaccented, monotone English, “I bear . . . a message . . . for Ni Hei.”
When nothing else was forthcoming, Clarence asked, “From whom?”
“From . . . Cranium Island.”
Suddenly the rest of the crowd felt an urgent need to be elsewhere.
A few moments later a large space had been cleared in the Lucky Dragon’s main room, and Clarence and two paw-picked furs with shotguns watched the feline warily as Ni Hei sat down in a chair facing the messenger. Hei took a few breaths from his oxygen tank and moved the mask away. “I am Ni Hei,” he said in English.
The red panda’s eyes went wide as the Japanese feline replied in faultless Court Dialect, “Greetings, Honored Ni Hei. This is the response to the message you sent to Cranium Island, as approved by the Ad Hoc Peer Review Committee formed to consider your request.”
“You honor me by the response, Esteemed Sir,” Hei replied after a moment. He hadn’t had to use the Court Dialect since Shen Jintao had died. He gestured at the feline. “I confess that I am honored that you deem me worthy of such an . . . unorthodox messenger.”
“Regrettably, documents,” the voice said, “can be forged. One member of the Committee felt that it was necessary, in order to prove that you speak with us, and not some dishonorable deceiver.” The feline waited courteously as Hei took a few gulps of oxygen. “We desire to hear more of this proposal of yours, Honored Ni,” and the red panda sensed that the intelligence behind the eyes was appraising him.
Business.
Between sips of water and occasional pauses for breath, Hei went into greater detail. The feline stood still, like a statue made of flesh and bone, but one got the impression that there was someone, somewhere, taking notes.
“This would be a formal, binding agreement?” the feline asked.
Hei nodded and moved his mask aside. “The barbarian devils on the Hill do not see the danger as I and my son do,” he said. “They think that they can bribe their way out of anything.” He turned his head and spat.
The feline’s mouth dropped open and it began to laugh. The laugh started at a low, measured cadence but gradually grew faster and higher-pitched until it became a maniacal cackle that made one bodyguard flinch and the others lay their ears back. Ni Hei stayed seated, trying hard to maintain a solemn, businesslike expression.
As abruptly as it started, the laugh stopped.
The feline said, “The proposal will be considered. Representations shall be made, Honored Ni Hei.”
The red panda smiled. “My thanks, Honored Sir. May I offer a glass of water? Tea, perhaps? Your messenger has come a long way.”
“You are most hospitable, but this at present does not need water or food. I shall, however, have to allow some waste heat to dissipate.”
Hei tried to figure out what was meant by that, and froze as the figure moved. As casually as doffing a hat, the feline raised its right paw and removed the top of its skull.
One of the guards fainted dead away, and one of the Casino’s girls (who had obviously been spying) screamed.
*********
“Rosie! Phone call for you,” and Vicky Knox held out the pawset to her boss as the cheetah came around the lunch counter. Rosie mouthed thank you to the vixen and started talking as Vicky returned to tending the customers. Speed Week was always a busy time, even for tourist season, and Rosie had hired on two native otter girls, twins, to help with the increased business.
Rosie had no worries about their ability to take care of themselves. When B’onss and K’nutt offered some improper proposals in Spontoonie, the two tods reaped a liberal harvest of smacks to the ears from both girls.
Vicky was taking one newcomer’s order when a sound made her ears perk and swivel. “Rosie? What’s up?”
The cheetah stood by the phone, her paw poised as if she were still holding the phone’s pawset. The pawset, though, lay on the floor, connected to the rest of the wall-mounted phone by its cord.
She wasn’t moving.
"Rosie?" Vicky asked as she picked the pawset up from the floor and hung up the phone. Her boss stood there, rooted to the ground with her tail trailing limply around her feet. "Rosie, are you okeh?" She was about to put her paws on the cheetah femme's shoulders when Rosie stirred a bit, her lips moving as she whispered in Yiddish.
The vixen's ears cocked and she listened closely as Rosie murmured over and over, "Vos vet ikh zogn Franneleh?”
Vicky Knox had been a carny before settling in Spontoon, and the traveling shows had been to parts of the United States that had Jewish communities. She understood the lingo, a little.
“What do I tell Franneleh?”
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Red Panda
Size 120 x 118px
File Size 60.9 kB
I wrote a snippet of a scene, ages ago on the now-defunct Yahoo Althing forum, that had the Japanese attempting a landing on Krupmark's north coast - after Krupmark concluded a mutual defense pact with Cranium. Needless to say, none of the marines who hit the beach ever made it back to the Empire.
"Egalitarian?" The ruling clique on Krupmark is modeled after E.E. Smith's Boskone - the end always justifies the means, and everyone below you is trying to pull you down (best illustration is a bucket of crabs). If anything they are libertarian; the best real-world analogy is Mogadishu, Somalia back in the 1990s.
The rest of the clique pooh-poohed Ni Hei and his son's worries that some nation not possessed of a sense of realism (i.e., the United States) wouldn't be able to be bribed if their navy showed up off Fort Bob. Hei made the initial deal with Cranium, as you are seeing in this chapter.
The rest of the clique pooh-poohed Ni Hei and his son's worries that some nation not possessed of a sense of realism (i.e., the United States) wouldn't be able to be bribed if their navy showed up off Fort Bob. Hei made the initial deal with Cranium, as you are seeing in this chapter.
There are certain things that one can't get through normal channels without having uncomfortable questions asked by other national governments, international arms control organizations, and the League of Nations.
Basically, "You provide us with the things we need, and we are willing to turn at least half a blind eye toward you. But don't push it."
Basically, "You provide us with the things we need, and we are willing to turn at least half a blind eye toward you. But don't push it."
From Luck of the Dragon, Chapter 210:
“It’s actually a joint office. The North Pacific Import-Export Bank.” He smiled again as Hei’s eyes went wide.
The furs on the Hill knew of the Bank, of course, and only a very few people like Hei knew about it. The ‘Bank’ had two customers – Spontoon and Rain Island - and only one depositor – Krupmark Island. Hei had told Hao once that the people on Krupmark lived on sufferance, paying tribute to the Spontoon Althing and Rain Island’s Governing Syndicate in exchange for a (somewhat) free paw. The payments were usually described as ‘taxes’ by the ruling cabal, preferring the word to ‘blackmail’ or ‘Danegeld.’
“It’s actually a joint office. The North Pacific Import-Export Bank.” He smiled again as Hei’s eyes went wide.
The furs on the Hill knew of the Bank, of course, and only a very few people like Hei knew about it. The ‘Bank’ had two customers – Spontoon and Rain Island - and only one depositor – Krupmark Island. Hei had told Hao once that the people on Krupmark lived on sufferance, paying tribute to the Spontoon Althing and Rain Island’s Governing Syndicate in exchange for a (somewhat) free paw. The payments were usually described as ‘taxes’ by the ruling cabal, preferring the word to ‘blackmail’ or ‘Danegeld.’
Comments