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The lesser evil

Prologue:

The struggle between the herbivores and the carnivores was as old as time itself. Both parties had always fought each other, it was in the nature of the thing that the one wanted to eat the other. Over time, this fight was fought with ever harder means and finally became from the fight for ones survival a fight for supremacy in the jungle.

The law of the strongest states: The strong kills the weak. Survival of the fittest.

This was the simplest natural law by which most animals lived. There were few exceptions, but they did not carry much weight.

But when in the end both the carnivores and the herbivores began to join forces and organized against the other faction, a fight became a war.

This war, whose goal of both sides was the total annihilation of the other side, raged on for many years now. Only the high birth rates and the ability of the individual species to settle their differences among themselves and act together against the common enemy had ensured that thus far none of the parties had secured the victory for themself. But slowly the balance tipped toward the carnivores.

Many of the carnivores had been hunting together for ages and were able to coordinate their tactics. Also, the ability to draw food and strength from each enemy killed, directly on the battlefield was a great advantage and also the effect on the morale of the opponents was not to be underestimated.

The herbivores had always had the numerical superiority. Their sheer numbers had a crushing effect in some battles. But they could rarely draw strength from a victory, since each battle also devastated parts of the jungle and thus their livelihood.

The leaders of both camps were aware that a war like this would sooner or later be won by the carnivores. But at what price? And what would the carnivores do then?

Of Hunters and Hunted:

The Battle was finally over. The field of honor, as the more poetic under his command called the killing fields, was a devastated area of jungle which now looked more like a churned up field. There was no green to be seen anymore. The predominate color was brown doted with puddles of blood, gorefilled pits and strewn with the lifeless bodies of the fallen. The lonesome screams of the not yet dead were quickly muffled by the marauders, who roamed the fields in search of a quick meal. The stench of blood, beginning decay, and death filled the air alongside the sounds of the scavengers eating the dead.

The Great Khan crouched high up in a tree, overlooking the battlefield, or rather what was left of it with a petrified look on his face. His warriors, along with the jaguars and the wolves, had routed a large army of herbivores. It had been a massacre. The losses on both sides were considerable, but it could be considered a victory for the carnivores.

All over the battlefield the cadavers of the herbivore warriors were to be seen, partly already devoured, at others the warriors of the carnivores still feasted. These were the lucky ones. Survivors were carried away screaming and flailing. They would serve the descendants in the training camps as training material and food.

"Sire, the herbivores have retreated across the river. We don't expect a counterattack until dawn."

One of his most capable officers sat a few branches down and relayed the scouts' information to him. The Great Khan merely nodded mutely. He continued to gaze over the scenery before finally descending from his lookout.

"Look at this waste."

He said quietly with a disgusted tone in his voice and turned away. His officers didn't quite understand what he meant. The battle, though dearly bought, was a victory over the enemy. An enemy whose back was increasingly against the wall and who had basically already lost the war.

"Gather the troops once everyone is fed, we'll retreat to the temple. I want to see my advisors and officers. And get me the spy."

Ordered the Great Khan and retreated into the forest. One of the officers followed him closely.

"Sire, we are not staying here?"

"No Shani, there is nothing for us to do here. The battle is fought. We are retreating and reviewing our strategy."

Shani looked around and saw the other carnivores on the battlefield still feasting.

"But the others?"

The Great Khan shook his head.

"No, look at them. They are no better than the hyenas on the prairie. Feast on carrion. Not long and they will devour even their own fallen in their greed."

He spat a mouthfull of blood on the ground. His voice was filled with hatred and disgust.

"The war has gone on too long. We are losing our pride and manners."

Shani looked to the ground in shame. Of course, she too had been eating from the enemy's fallen. What else could she eat. Hunting? None of them had done that in years. There was nothing to hunt. The prey was the enemy, every attempt to hunt was an attack, every fight a battle for life and death.

"But sire, how will you end the war? If we retreat, what shall we eat?"

He stopped and looked deep into her eyes. His eyes burnt with anger his bloodstained teeth were grid.

"And if we win? What will you eat then?"

He made a sweeping motion that encompassed the entire jungle.

"If we, that is, the carnivores win, and drive out or eat all the herbivores, what will be left? Do you want to eat wolves? And what are they going to eat?"

In his anger the Great Khan shouted at her. He shook his head.

"No. We have to find another solution."

She raised her hand.

"We could catch them and breed them."

The smile on his face reflected the despair he felt. His voice sounded more anoyed than angry at this point.

"And how are you going to do that? How are you going to keep enough herbivores in captivity for us to feed on. They already outnumber us 10 to 1, and their numbers are just enough to keep us from eating more than can be replenished by them."

He turned to leave again.

"They will overrun us, they will revolt... and then, yes then, we will kill them after all."

He said over his shoulder and walked away.

...

The temple of the tigers was a large pyramid. No one knew exactly who had built it once, it already stood for an eternity. Certain was only, that since time immemorial the tigers lived in it and that since time immemorial the death was at home in this temple. There were innumerable chambers in the building which were intended for sacrifice and the smell of blood and death was omnipresent. During the war, youngsters were trained in the courtyards to fight the herbivores. Usually, the prisoners and wounded of the last battle were simply thrown to them. The food supply was thus regulated in one. The screams of the victims could be heard from afar and ensured that the herbivores always gave the temple a wide berth. Of all carnivores, the tigers were considered the most bloodthirsty and conscienceless butchers. To be a prisoner of the tigers promised a slow and agonizing death.

On this day, too, the tortured screams of the victims could be heard from afar as the Great Khan and his entourage returned home from battle. The High Priestess awaited the head of her tribe at the main gate.

"Sire, you have returned."

It was not a question, it was a statement spoken with a matter-of-factness that left no doubt that the Great Khan always returned home. She bowed deeply and he returned the bow.

"Let us hold a council of war. Send everyone to the great hall."

He said calmly and the high priestess nodded.

"Your wounds?"

He looked down at himself, he could not say for sure how much of the blood, that matted his fur and stained his armor was his own. Most of his wound were superficial and had stopped bleeding some time ago, and the rest wouldn't matter much, at least for now.

"War council first."

He determined and entered the temple. The officers followed him and headed straight for the great halls. The Great Khan, on the other hand, went first to the great courtyard. The great courtyard was a big open space inside the temple. At some point in history, this space was used for large scale gatherings and festivities. Nowadays it was used to train the younglings in combat. They had set up several sparing pits in which, depending on the time of the day and the number of occupants, up to 50 younglings trained. At the moment there was only one of the pits in occupation. There a group of young tigers was busy tearing a recently deceased water buffalo to pieces. They looked and behaved like wild animals. Sadly, the Great Khan shook his head.

*No, they are wild animals.*

The high priestess approached him quietly from behind.

"Sad isn't it? I see their immense strength and courage, but I miss their humility and grace."

The Great Khan nodded silently. This no longer had much in common with the ruler of the jungle, which is what his tribe had once been called. Of all the carnivores in this jungle, they were by far the strongest. Even the jaguars could not keep up with them in this area. But strength alone did not make a ruler.

"Yes, we are already at a low ebb, and this war will take more of us. We must end it."

The high priestess put a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

"But how will you do that?"

A fight broke out in the courtyard between the individual tigers over a piece of meat to which several of them laid claim. The Great Khan rolled his eyes, straightend up and breathed heavily before he entered the courtyard furious.

His roar was deafening.

"Enough!"

He shouted, and the youths reflexively fell to their knees before their chief.

"How low you have sunk. A disgrace before the ancestors. Not only do you no longer observe the ancient rites and have no respect for your prey anymore. You fight each other over food even though there is more than enough for all of you. Explain yourselves, or so true I stand here before you, I send you personally to your ancestors. Then you may explain to them."

He was beside himself. There was not much missing and he would probably really kill them right there and then. One of them stood up. He was covered all over with the blood of the buffalo. There was defiance in his eyes.

"This is the enemy. We kill the enemy to be able..."

That was as far as he got before he was thrown backwards by the force of the impact, taking two more of his cronies with him.

"That..."

The Great Khan pointed to the cadaver to his right as he screamed. Spit and droplets of blood flew from his wide opened mouth as he continued to berate the younglings.

"...That is not the enemy. That is prey. He was old and weak. Not a danger. He served to teach you how to kill them. The enemy. The enemy is out there. The real enemy is the one you don't see coming."

He was fuming as he turned to the cadaver. In an Instance he changed his demeanor as he closed its lifeless eyes and spoke the ancient rites in absolute calmness. Which thanked for his sacrifice and wished him a good journey. He turned again to the younglings. His anger had faded. But he still trembled.

"In battle we cannot perform the rites, there is no time for that then. But here, where there is no more danger after his death. That's where you perform the rites. Only through his sacrifice can you live. His death secures your meal. Be grateful and show respect!"

The young tiger got up and was about to answer.

"But..."

His cronies held him back and bowed deeply.

"Forgive him Sire, he is still young."

This almost upset the Great Khan even more, but he swallowed his anger.

"If I see anything like that ever again..."

He left the threat unspoken in the air and turned back.

He left the courtyard with heavy steps, his shoulders sunken. He spat out another mouthful of blood.

As he passed by the High Priestess, his voice sounded as cold as ice.

"Make sure someone teaches them manners, or I certainly will."

Without waiting for a reply, he left the courtyard for the great hall. On the way, he glanced at his hand. He had broken at least three or four of the youth's ribs. It was a miracle that he had been able to get up at all. The descendants of his tribe were undoubtedly tough as nails.

When he finally arrived at the great hall, he was already expected. The great hall was one of the bigger rooms of the temple. The Great Khans had chosen this room as their thronroom, where they gathered their people, held feasts or, like this day, war council. The room was nowadays empty except for the big table in the middle and the huge stone thron at the far side wall of the room.

His advisors, his officers, and his spy were already waiting for him. They were gathered at the large table in the center of the room and were currently being shown the latest information on a large map.

"The Wolves have advanced as far north as the falls with two regiments. The jaguars attacked a herbivore position and were decisively defeated. That was here in the lowlands. Our battle here in the fields was a hard-fought victory. The army of water buffaloes and tapirs was routed and retreated across the river. We do not expect a counterattack until morning."

One of the officers pointed with a staff to the various points on the map. Another pushed around some statues representing the various troops and regiments. As the Great Khan approached the table, his spy joined him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Sire, there is news from the mountains. The herbivores will not survive the winter. The war is over."

Whispered the spy, grinning slyly. He raised a small vial before the Great Khan's eyes.

"And the leader of the water buffaloes will have a rude awakening tomorrow, or rather his calf will not awaken tomorrow."

At the sidelong glance the Great Khan gave him, the grin disappeared from the spy's face. Everyone present here knew that the Great Khan was a traditionalist. Fighting on the field of honor was a necessary evil that could not be avoided, but these underhanded assassinations went against his sense of honor. He knew it was necessary to break the morale of the enemy to end the war quickly. He walked up to the others and shouted:

"I know. If you want to end a war quickly and in the most "humane" way possible, you have to fight it as brutal as possible. But the calves of our enemies? In their sleep?"

He was not so much angry as disappointed. An advisor was about to start in with an explanation, but one of the officers held him back.

"We will end this war."

It was an order, not a request. The Great Khan's tone allowed for no argument. As he approached the map, he looked around. He gave each of those present a penetrating look.

"We are degenerating. Our warriors are no more than wild animals. We are no better than those scavengers from the prairie. And if we're not careful, we'll soon be like those scavengers, dependent on eating even our own dead."

He propped himself up on the table, scattering bloody handprints.

"If we are to emerge victorious here in any way, and still have an empire worth governing after this, we will have to be the only carnivores to emerge from this war."

He let seep in what that statement implied. When he saw that everyone present understood, he spoke what the others dared not pronounce. His voice was low but therein lay so much coldhaerted hatred, that the temperature in the room seemed to drop significantly.

"We will kill or drive out the wolves, the jaguars, and all the other carnivores. We will claim the whole jungle for ourselves. The wolves outnumber us, but they are weak. Their hunting tactics allow them to kill even large prey, but they are powerless against ambushes and in a direct confrontation we are head and shoulders above them. And the jaguars, while strong and fast, are few. The rest of the smaller tribes will offer no resistance worth mentioning."

He picked up one of the statues depicting a wolf. He looked at it, turning it back and forth in his hand. He looked to his officers and broke off the head of the wolf with his thumb.

"We will beat the wolves first. The jaguars will help us. We will plead that we must hold together as Felines and that these dogs are not worthy of us. In their pride to prove themselves against us these spot carriers will be stupid enough to fall for it."

He turned to his spy.

"You will see to it that the wolves fall for an ambush, and then you will see to it that they..."

He handed the broken figurine to his spy.

"... Are a little headless."

Then he looked to his advisors.

"You will find out exactly how many Jaguars are ready to fight at this moment. And how many troops we can provide."

His gaze drifted to his officers.

"The scouts will tell us where to expect the next herbivore attacks. I want to strike the jaguars in battle. Then when they least expect it."

One of the officers raised his hand.

"But the war, what about the herbivores. What if they attack?"

The Great Khan fixed him with his gaze, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Then they'll die along with the jaguars. But it will not come to that."

He straightened up and looked at the small pool of blood that had formed around his right foot. Breathing heavily, he walked to his throne. He dropped heavily onto the stone.

"I guess I need a healer after all. And send Pequeña Franja to me. I have a task for her."

He stated with a gasp for air. Those present looked to their leader; and he looked back to them.

"You have your assignments. Dismissed."

His voice sounded tired and annoyed. His advisors and officers bowed and left the great hall. Finally alone he leaned back and closed his eyes.

*Just a moment... a moment of rest.*

When he opened his eyes again, one of his healers was busy with his wounds. The Great Khan looked at his arms, taking in the various bandages that had already been applied.

"How long...?"

The healer did not look up but continued to tend to one of the wounds on his leg.

"Well, I don't know exactly, but I have been at work for at least an hour. Sire."

His groan sounded annoyed as he rested his head against the back of his throne. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught another movement.

"Come here Pequeña Franja."

He said softly and at his bidding the petite figure stepped out from the shadows of a curtain. Elegantly she knelt down and waited for instructions.

"I have a task for you."

She nodded only slightly, but made no sound.

"You will go to the headquarters of the herbivores. And deliver a message to their leader."

Now she looked up and her dark blue eyes sparkled.

"No, not that kind of message. That might come later."

She lowered her gaze again.

"I want you to tell them that we will end this war. And that we will accept their surrender. Provided... yes, provided they submit to us..."

He interrupted himself and looked agonized down at his healer. The healer did not care any more and continued to sew silently. With a sigh, the Great Khan turned back to his best assassin. She was smaller than the other tigers and unlike her tribesmen, very few orange stripes adorned her pelt. She had already attracted attention at a young age because of her ability to hide and ambush others. Now she used her talents to take out high-ranking targets, or when it came to reliably completing impossible tasks for the Great Khan.

"... They will help us once again against the Jaguars. It will be a bloody battle. After that, all the other carnivores will be gone. Only us and the herbivores will be left... And then there will be peace."

He beckoned her toward him. Her movements as she rose and came to him were infinitely elegant. She seemed to float. And though she was clothed, not the slightest sound was heard. Not even her breath. Only her steady heartbeat, that rhythmic throbbing in her chest, revealed that she was alive at all. He put his hand on her waist.

"Be careful. They won't give you easy access. They won't believe you. They know who you are and what you're capable of. I don't want to lose you, but you are the only one capable of this."

She again just nodded silently. His smile was full of concern, but he also nodded. And just as quietly as she had come, she disappeared back into the shadows.

"She gives me the creeps."

Said the healer as he bandaged the wound on the Great Khan's leg.

"Yes, she is special all right. But no one else would be up to the task. And even with her, I'm not sure she'll come back in one piece."

The healer nodded. The leader of the herbivores was a truly violent bull. He was not inferior to the tigers in ferocity. Whenever he had been involved in a battle, the losses on the carnivore side had been frightening. So far, they had not been able to eliminate him. But after recent events, and with the news that he was likely to lose his calf that night, perhaps things were different.

The Great Khan took a deep breath. Maybe he could spin it so that the jaguars were blamed for the death of his calf, that would be wonderful to use to take out the competition.

"Finished, sire."

The healer announced and stood up. He was one of the older tigers. His fur was shaggy and dull. He had worked too much in recent years. It could not be avoided. With the war came the injured. Also before the war the life-style of the carnivores had provided again and again for the fact that the warriors of the tribe had hurt themselves on the hunt and also with the training fights it had come quite times and again to injuries. But since the beginning of the war, he and his own had been in action virtually around the clock. Often the wounds of the warriors were not yet completely healed that they were already back on his table.

The Great Khan nodded wearily. He was grateful to his healer, but he was not capable of more than a tired nod and a thin smile at the moment. The healer withdrew, leaving the ruler to his thoughts. And lost in thought was the Great Khan as he slipped back into an exhausted sleep.

Preparations:

The following days were marked by hectic activity.

The Great Counterattack of the herbivores had failed to materialize. The shock of losing his calf had hit the leader of the water buffaloes harder than the carnivores had expected. And without the support of the big and strong fighters of the water buffaloes, the other herbivores were not too bold to dare an attack. At various points, there were minor skirmishes that tended to favor the carnivores or the herbivores, depending on the terrain and troop composition. But neither side could truly claim an advance.

Behind the fronts, things were similarly hectic.

Even though the war was developing in their favor overall, things were anything but rosy in the camps of the carnivores. The spies of the tigers could bring in informations that the troop strength of the jaguars was considerably smaller than they had assumed before. Various circumstances in the last years had led to the fact that the birth rate had gone back considerably and without sufficient offspring it was not possible to fill up the ranks of the fallen warriors again. The wolves were distributed on a much too large front line and would never be able to withstand a concentrated attack of the herbivores. Their Alpha was well aware of this. But even with the tigers, not everything was sunshine. A not to be underestimated number of the warriors was injured, some would probably never be able to fight or hunt again. The younglings were not yet ready to be deployed at the front.

Messengers were sent out to negotiate with the other carnivores and plan the next steps. They were aware that these groups also had their spies and almost certainly knew about the situation in the other camps.

It was almost a surprise when both the jaguars and the wolves accepted the plan that the Great Khan had proposed. The trap in it was so obvious that none of the other parties noticed it.

They would provoke the herbivores into a great attack, using the wolves as decoys. One would fall back in a staggered retreat, thus drawing the enemy from their reserve. Then, when the herbivores had spread out too much, the tigers and jaguars would fall into their flanks and encircle a large number of enemies. Everything after that would just be a slaughter. This victory would seal the end of the war.

So far, so simple. That was the plan the wolves knew. The jaguars knew the following plan:

Once the wolves fell back, so would the jaguars. If the wolves, who normally specialized in rushing charges and were unfamiliar with the technique of retreat, fell into disarray, the jaguars would strike and the tigers would stab the wolves in the back. If the wolves were out of the running, the felines would clean up with the herbivores. The war was basically already won anyway.

The jaguars were only too happy to get rid of a competitor in the fight for the dwindling food resources. What they didn't know was that the Great Khan would be too happy to outmaneuver their party as well.

For this to work however, the herbivores had to play along with the plan. The Great Khan had not yet received word from Pequeña Franja. There were several possibilities for that and he did not like any of them.

The Beauty and the Beast:

A few days earlier in the herbivore camp:

The main camp of the herbivores was situated on a mountainside, climbing up from the foot of the hill almost up to the top. This made it significantly easier to defent and a hell of a lot more difficult to assault. Thus far, no attack on it was ever successfull. But on the flipside, there was not to much vegetation in the camp. So for every meal, the herbivores needed to come outside and get their food „in the wild" so to say. Which was where the hunters waited. Almost on a daily basis the wolves did sent raiding parties. Their success rates varied greatly. At the moment most herbivores kept their heads in the camp. Only when accompanied with heavy guards, they left the premiss of their base to gather food.

Meanwhile in the camp itself all signs pointed to a nearing catastrophy.

Gordito Torro, the powerful leader of the water buffaloes, sat slumped on his throne. After the death of his only descendant, he had not eaten or drunk for several days, lost in grief. Several of his subordinates, who had tried to encourage him, had literally flown out of his chambers. No one dared to come near him for fear of incurring the wrath of the bull.

For a while, this had not been a major problem. Now, however, events had begun to unfold that urgently needed his attention. Their spies had reported troop movements from the carnivores and everything lead to only one conclusion. The carnivores were readying themselves for a decisive battle. And then there was this other thing...

One of his advisors, followed by two of his guards were standing at the door to the chambers of the bull on the upper most parts of the camp. They were accompanied by a prisoner. Raising his hand, however, the advisor hesitated to knock on the door. He looked around, but the guards did not budge. He swallowed hard and made to....

"Come in..."

The voice from inside sounded rough and tired. Once again, the advisor gulped as he opened the door. The chamber of his leader lay in a semi darkness as the lids on the windows were closed. All of the furniture was completely shattered. Only the throne, cut from a massive tree trunk, still stood upright. Gordito Torro sat on his throne, elbows propped on his knees, and looked at the door from below.

"What do you want..."

Asked the bull without straightening up. The advisor took a step to the side.

"W...we were able to capture that spy...and there is news from the front."

Slowly the bull raised his head and his bloodshot eyes were fixed on the prisoner.

"What do I care about the front?"

The prisoner was clearly a feline and female. That was absolutely obvious. She was quite small for a feline. She was wearing only some scanty clothes that soothed her curves well. She did stand rather relaxed for a prisoner of war, as if she was quite comfortable in her position. When she seemed pleased with who she stood opposed to, she looked up at her guards. They were almost twice her size. Muscle-bound fighters, able to easily break her like a straw. She elegantly turned to one of them and handed him the shackles they had put on her. After that, she stretched with pleasure and took a step towards the bull with her hands raised.

She didn't get any further, because the shock of the guards lasted only for a short time. The guard on her left reached for her, while the one on her right dropped her shackles and grabbed his club. At that moment she seemed to turn into a shadow of black light. She dodged all attacks and attempts to pin her down again. She did not even try to attack the two guards, she merely stayed out of their reach. All of this she accomplished without making even the slightest of sounds and withoug breaking a little bit of sweat.

"Enough!"

Yelled the bull and rose from his throne. As if rooted to the spot, the advisor, the guards and the, now no longer, prisoner stood still.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Gordito Torro asked as he slowly approached them. With a wave of his hand, he indicated to his subordinates that they should step back. All at once she stood alone in front of him and looked up at him. She looked dwarfed in front of his massive body.

"I know who you are. Little stripe. Are you here to finish what your accomplices started?"

She tilted her head as if thinking, then opened her hands, shrugged, and made a vague gesture with her hands.

"She doesn't speak. We tried everything..."

Admitted the advisor, which earned him only a tired sideways glance from his leader.

"Of course she doesn't speak. She's mute. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't speak."

Said the bull, his voice sounding horribly annoyed. When he looked back down at the assassin in front of him, there was a smile on her face and the big blue eyes were positively shining.

Gordito Torro took a deep breath and looked to his subordinates.

"You can go. If she had wanted to kill me, you would all be dead already. So little stripe, what are you doing here? Why did the Great Khan send you?"

Pequeña Franja looked around briefly and then pointed to the bull's chambers. He nodded and gave way. Meanwhile, the advisor was still struggling with his words and the guards just stood there quietly. Pequeña Franja, however, went into the bull's chambers and stopped in front of the completely smashed table.

"Now get going. I'll be fine."

Commanded Gordito Torro angrily, pushing the advisor aside.

"B...but..."

That was as far as the advisor got before the door slammed in his face.

The bull's chambers were silent and cool. As he approached her from behind, she remained completely impassive, looking at a small, wooden figurine she had picked up. He slowly reached over her shoulder and surprisingly gently took the figurine from her hand.

"It belonged to my daughter."

He said quietly.

"My only daughter."

The sadness in his voice was palpable. Looking over her shoulder, he could see that she seemed to be affected as well.

"I see you are familiar with the concept of grief and loss. I wasn't quite sure after that act if you carnivores could even feel those things."

He placed the figure on the armrest of his throne and moved some of the debris of his table and a chair together so that they could at least be used. After that, the dropped down on his throne with a groan.

"And now, explain to me why you are here. If you're not going to kill me."

Pequeña Franja sat down on the improvised chair and leaned against the construct that was supposed to be a table. She picked up several pieces of debris and placed them on the table. Taking the first one, she held it up and pointed at herself. The bull nodded. This piece represented the tigers. She took the second piece and showed it to him, then pointed to him and to the surroundings. The bull nodded again. This one was to represent the herbivores. She took a third piece and held it up. She stretched her snout and pointed her ears. This time, too, the bull nodded. Wolves. With the fourth piece, she puffed herself up and made a roaring gesture. The bull nodded again. Yes the jaguars liked to boast. She placed the "figures" on the table. The herbivores on one side, the carnivores on the other. The bull raised an eyebrow, but Pequeña Franja denied it. She took the figure of the tigers out of the group of carnivores. Now Gordito Torro tilted his head. She lined up the wolves and drew in the herbivores, then drew back the wolves and drew in the herbivores.

"An ambush."

Stated the bull dryly, and Pequeña Franja raised a finger, asking for attention. When the wolves had retreated a bit, she took the jaguars and "attacked" the wolves' flank with them.

"Ooooohhh..."

The bull bent over, things were getting interesting. She took the tigers and fell into the back of the wolves with them. She looked up at him. Her eyes sparkled in the semi-darkness of the room. Then she threw the wolf statue over.

"I see... and then."

She placed the jaguars in the place of the wolves. They were now between the herbivores and the tigers. She pushed them both toward the jaguars. The bull raised its eyebrows. Her grin was frightening as she finally made the jaguars fall down as well. Their fangs flashed in the few rays of light that reached them through the blinds on the windows. Only the tigers and the herbivores were left. She placed them both in the center and looked over at the bull. Her finger rested on the herbivore's head.

"So you want to end it..."

She flattened her ears and looked at the two figures and then at the bull.

"We will not surrender without a fight."

There was a deceptive calm in his voice. She took her finger off the figure of the herbivores and picked up the figure that had represented the jaguars. She circled the table and moved toward him with an unnatural elegance. Her grin disappeared and she put her ears so tightly to her head that it looked as if she had none at all. The bull tensed. What would she do. Did she expect them to give up without a fight? And since they didn't, would she kill him after all?

She stopped in front of him and showed him the figure. He swallowed. Then she slowly reached for the figure of his daughter. He watched her as if hypnotized. She took his hand and put his daughter's figurine in it after showing it to him again. Then she took the figurine that represented the jaguars, showed it to him. His eyes widened and when she put the figurine in his hand to the other one with her eyes closed and closed his hand, tears welled up from the bull's eyes.

Pequeña Franja slowly withdrew and went behind the table. She sat down and looked over at him.

Gordito Torro was struggling with his emotions. Grief threatened to overwhelm him, but anger at the predators who had taken his daughter from him kept him from simply breaking down. Through the veil of his tears, he looked over at Pequeña Franja, who was holding the two remaining figures of the tigers and the herbivores. She brought them together as children played with dolls when they fought with each other. She placed them back on the table and denied the fight. She stood up and came to him again. His jaw trembled with tension. She placed her hands gently on his. They seemed tiny compared to his. She took one of his hands and brought it to her chest. There she opened his hand and placed it on her breastbone. She did the same to him.

She stayed like that for a moment, feeling his heartbeat, feeling it synchronize with hers. She looked deep into his eyes. She formed the words with her lips.

"No more war."

When she took her hand from his chest and placed it against his cheek, the bull collapsed in on himself.

Pequeña Franja just remained standing, keeping his hand on her chest and her hand on his cheek. The big bull sobbed and was shaken as he brought his hand with his daughter's figure to his chest. His head weighed heavily on her hand and his tears soaked her fur. She remained motionless.

It took over an hour for him to calm down. When he finally lifted his head and looked into her eyes with his puffy, bloodshot eyes he repeated her words.

"No more war."

They sounded harsh and there was so much hatred in them that she didn't entirely believe him. She pulled her hand from his face and released his hand on her chest. She nodded slightly and silently acknowledged.

"No more war."

His jaw ground as he slowly withdrew his hand and rubbed his fingers together. He leaned back and wiped the tears from his face. He took a deep breath and opened the hand with the figurines. As he looked inside, several emotions were reflected on his face.

"We can only end this war if the carnivores disappear."

He said softly and looked up at her. She stood still in front of him and tilted her head.

"At least some of them have to disappear..."

He took the jaguar figurine and crushed it in his other hand. The crunch and crack of the wood in his hand was eerie. When the now completely destroyed piece of wood finally fell to the ground, he looked back at her.

"... And the wolves too."

She nodded silently.

"Is the Great Khan sure of his cause? Will the plan succeed?"

She made a vague gesture but finally nodded.

"And this plan will only work if we play along."

It was a statement, not a question. He looked at the figure in his hand.

"Hopefully he knows there's only one shot at something like this, and if it goes wrong, it's not just him..."

Again, the assassin nodded in front of him.

"What's in it for us if there's still a tribe of carnivores left in the jungle after the war? It's not like the tigers are going to stop eating meat."

She raised her eyebrows, took a deep breath, and with pursed lips, shook her head.

"Thought so."

The bull massaged his eyes a little and sighed.

"It would have been too good to be true."

He opened his eyes and slowly rose from his throne.

"I think..."

He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"... It is the choice of the lesser evil. One tribe of carnivores is better than three tribes full of bloodthirsty killing machines."

She placed her hand on his and smiled gently before nodding.

"Choosing the lesser of two evils..."

Sined Gordito Torro. He looked down at her.

"We will help you, on one condition."

She tilted her head and waited.

"You will do me a favor when this is all over..."

What he said after that made her eyes widen.

Best laid plans:

The troops of the carnivores had gathered in a patch of forest near a large open area. The leaders of the three great tribes stood with one another.

The Great Khan, the Alpha and the King of Talons. Before them on a table was a rough map of the region.

"The scouts have located the herbivore army about here."

Said the Great Khan, pointing to a mountainside about 5 kilometers to the north.

"It's massive. We reckon they've really mobilized everything they've got left."

The Alpha nodded. The King of Talons pointed to an area on the map.

"Then they will probably come from here and attack. That would be ideal for what we're trying to do. If we can lure them down here..."

He traced a path to a small valley nearby.

"... Then they'll be trapped in the valley and we can attack them from all sides."

The Alpha began to pant.

"My vanguard is already on its way. We will seduce them and move there. Stand by there so we can tackle them from three sides. Today this war ends, and we will be victorious."

The King of Blades nodded, the Great Khan smiled.

*Conceited as ever, silly dogs...*

"My warriors will be in position. I have positioned assassins, they will eliminate the herbivore leaders as soon as our attack starts."

Indicated the Great Khan, pointing to some places on the map on the way to the place marked by the King of Talons.

"We will attack from here, here and here."

Specified the King of Talons, pointing to some places at the entrance to the valley basin.

"They will be cut off from the rest of the army, and when your assassins have taken out their leadership, they will not know how to react. By the time we have destroyed their warriors, they will have nothing left to oppose us."

He ran his claw across his throat. The Great Khan nodded with a smile.

*Oh, if you knew how right you are about that...*

"That's right, but don't underestimate them. The bull will be there. He seems to have gotten over the grief and is out for revenge. They have nothing left to lose. They know that this is the last battle. They will not give up until we crush them. We will stab them in the back. Use the disorder in their ranks. Don't focus on killing. Incapacitate them. Work fast. Even though their numbers have dwindled, they still outnumber us ten to one."

The others nodded. They were well aware of the situation. The plan was risky. Invoking a decisive battle with an opponent who was weaker in many respects but vastly superior in numbers was always a danger. If they did not conserve their forces, the herbivores would win by attrition. It would not be a victory in the true sense, since the losses on both sides would be devastating, but they would still have won.

The Great Khan was aware that after today, after this battle, his tribe would also be severely weakened. He was not so presumptuous as to believe that he and his people would escape unscathed. Secretly, he hoped that he could keep this fact a secret from the enemies and his "allies". It would be easy for the herbivores, even if everything went according to plan, to overrun the Tigers in the aftermath. The few who remained in the temple would not be able to muster nearly enough resistance. And since the herbivores have always been much faster at recouping their losses, the outcome was predictable. His only chance was to keep the herbivores thinking they were still a threat. He glanced unobtrusively over at the others.

The wolves would not be a problem. Beating them now would be easy, and driving off the remnants after the battle would be child's play. The jaguars would be rather a harder bread to chew. Especially once they were driven away, to keep them from returning. Jaguars were excellent lone fighters and always a danger.

One of his officers came up to them and knelt down.

"Sire, the herbivores are on the move."

The Great Khan looked to his allies.

"It's getting started. We should take our posts."

The Alpha and the King of Talons both nodded and turned back. They quickly moved away with their troops. Only the Great Khan his officer and a handful of Tigers remained.

"Are the troops ready?"

He asked calmly, looking after his allies.

"Yes sire. Everyone is in position."

He nodded.

"Do we have feedback from the scouts that the herbivores are playing along?"

The officer silently confirmed.

The Great Khan smiled grimly to himself.

*Then let the games begin...*

When the herbivores first encountered the wolves, it was like a battering ram hitting a gate that was far too weak. Led by Gordito Torro himself, the elite warriors of the Water Buffalo burst through the first ranks of the Wolves as if they did not exist. The sheer force hurled some of the wolves several feet through the air and others were crushed beneath the feet of the giant warriors. The Alpha had expected a large and strong army, but what he and his army faced was far more than he had feared in his nightmares. The retreat they were supposed to hint at to trap the herbivores very quickly turned into a bitterly needed dash across the plain. Meanwhile, the herbivores came roaring after them. The wolves were fast and enduring runners. The herbivores would not be able to catch up with them unless the wolves allowed it, but the plan required that the herbivores not be left behind. It was necessary that the opponents always stayed in contact, otherwise they could not be directed to the right place. However, this ensured that one or even more of the wolves would always fall victim to the stampede of the herbivores. The Alpha, who was in the front line, was now dangerously close to the enemy. Only a few of his own warriors separated the bull and his elite from the leader of the wolves. When they finally reached the ravine that led into the valley basin, the alpha was already breathing a sigh of relief.

*Just through that narrows...when the herbivores are in there...*

His first warriors were already rushing through the gorge when he noticed that the herbivores were slowly falling back. For the time being he thought nothing of it, probably the endurance of the heavy warriors did not allow such a long sprint.

It was only when all of his warriors were in the gorge and the predatory cats came upon them out of nowhere that he realized the treachery. But at this point it was to late to do anything about it.

The jaguars had precisely timed the moment for the ambush. The first wolves had just arrived at the other end of the gorge and the last wolves were about to enter the gorge at that moment, when they pounced on the warriors of the Alpha.

Even though the wolves were enduring runners and skilled warriors, this attack took them by such surprise that no coordinated counterattack by the haggard wolves was possible. The Alpha howled his orders and cursed these treacherous cats. It was immediately clear to him that this was the Great Khan's doing. And so his last cry before one of the jaguars tore into him was:

"KKHHAAAAAAAN!"

When the jaguar stood up again, its mouth was bloodied and its claws and forearms were red from the Alpha's lifeblood.

At this point the tigers appeared from the valley basin and drove the wolves before them into the gorge. The Great Khan fought in the front line and it was not long before his claws and lips were also wet with the blood of his former allies.

The wolves, deprived of their leader and any means of escape, fell into disarray and were quickly routed between the jaguars and the tigers. It was a slaughter plain and simple. Casualties among the felines were light. The first part of the trap had snapped shut superbly.

The herbivores, who had remained outside the gorge until now, now began their attack. With a deafening war cry, the warriors of the bull sprinted into the gorge. They would take no prisoners. All the jaguars would die, and if a tiger or two died in the process, that was a bonus the bull was only too happy to take.

The predators turned to face the new danger, and very much in keeping with the Great Khan's plan, most of the jaguars, including their leader, were between them and the herbivores.

"For the Khan..."

Roared the tigers, and the jaguars joined in as they charged toward the bull's warriors. The tigers imperceptibly dropped back, allowing the jaguars to make their first attack. It was as if an unstoppable object were crashing against an immovable mass. The dull thud of the jaguars against the clearly larger and heavier warriors of the bull slowed down the advance of the herbivores only for a moment and already a short time later the first predatory cats flew through the gorge. But the attack also left its mark on the water buffaloes. Most of the warriors in the first row fell in the attack and the rest suffered terrible wounds. One of these warriors stood out in particular. He wore a chain around his neck from which hung a figurine. The hammer in his hands was larger than the chest of a tiger, and when he circled it, it mowed down the cats in front of him. His constant roaring enraged the other warriors of his tribe and drove them to ignore their pain and wounds. It was Gordito Torro, the leader of the Water Buffalo, the best and strongest among them.

The King of Talons had just shredded the throat of one of the water buffaloes when he heard the bull's cry.

"YOUUUU... COME HERE, I'LL STOMP YOU TO THE GROUND YOU WORM!"

He turned around and not 15 yards away stood the bull, covered in blood and snorting wildly. His hammer had lost half of its shaft and the hammer head was broken. The King of Talons grinned.

"A worthy opponent, at last."

He dropped the bloody piece of meat from his claws and slowly walked towards the bull. The bull did the same. They slowly approached each other while the battle raged around them. It seemed as if they were in their own little microcosm. Only the King of Talons and Gordito Torro, nothing else existed. When one of the jaguars jumped between them and shouted something about Khan, the bull reacted out of reflex and crushed the warrior's skull before he could finish his sentence.

The bull threw the mortally wounded jaguar and his hammer to the side. He stood only a few feet away from the King of Talons, his arms outstretched, bleeding from a multitude of wounds. The leader of the jaguars himself was ready to attack, but something about what his warrior had shouted made no sense. He had no time to think about it now, his enemy was charging at him.

The feline predator was clearly faster and more agile than the bull and easily dodged his attacks. With each time he dodged the bull he landed another strike with his claws.

"You will die the death of a thousand cuts bull. And for what? For putting your race on my plate."

Taunted the King of Talons his opponent. In his anger, Gordito Torro did not feel the pain of the wounds, but he did feel the loss of blood. He knew he would have to kill the jaguar quickly or victory would go to the carnivore. He already felt a little lightheaded and his strengh was weakening by the minute.

"Betrayal, the tigers have betrayed us."

The pained cry of one of his warriors made the leader of the jaguars hesitate for a moment.

*So they did...*

That was all the bull needed. He took his chance and rammed his massive arm into the pit of his opponent's stomach up to his elbow. The disbelief on the King of Claws' face as Gordito Torro pulled his hand, along with guts and part of his spine, back out of his body delighted the bull. It was an incredible satisfaction to see the leader of the jaguars collapse in front of him.

In his final moments, the jaguar could see the Great Khan, covered in blood, dragging the lifeless body of one of his warriors behind him, approaching the bull.

*Betrayed...*

The Great Khan stopped a few meters in front of the bull and dropped the carcass of his latest victim. Breathing heavily, the two leaders of the last warring parties faced each other.

Both knew that on one side it would be easy to kill the other, but then the war would probably just go on. Peace had to be made NOW.

The Great Khan was the first to speak the words.

"No more war."

Gordito Torro replied with:

"No more war."

The tiger raised his fist and roared, whereupon his warriors left their opponents and joined him. The few jaguars that survived the slaughter fled headlong. The warriors of the bull gathered behind their leader. Both parties were unsure if the truce would hold. It took several agonizing minutes before the Great Khan stepped forward and extended a bloodied, clawed hand to his counterpart.

"For peace. No unnecessary bloodshed."

The bull was breathing heavily, feeling his wounds, but he also knew he would have to hold on. He stepped forward and took the tiger's hand. His handshake was strong and unyielding.

"For peace."

He growled. He gripped the tiger's hand tightly.

"We'll talk about the bloodshed later."

He said forcefully before releasing the Great Khan's hand from his grasp again. The Great Khan nodded and raised both arms above his head before turning to his warriors.

"Peace..."

He shouted, and his warriors cheered. He turned again, but the bull had already disappeared into the ranks of his warriors. In its place stood a tapir. The warrior's meager armor was shredded and numerous superficial wounds adorned the body of the much smaller warrior.

"The bull withdraws. Urgent matters await his attention. We assume that you will take care of the remaining carnivores."

The warrior stated dryly. He looked around.

"Enough meat for the next few days should be available. Even though we have accepted peace, there will be some need for negotiation. We assume you will report back to us. After all, you'll want your little spy back...won't you?"

On the last sentence for but a brief moment, the Great Khan's pupils dilated and his lips quirked, but then it was over again. He smiled slightly and nodded. His voice was overflowing with fake benevolence as he answered.

"Indeed. We will drive off the last of the wolves and jaguars and whatever else might be prowling in the jungle. Food will also not be a problem in the next few days. As for the further procedure and matters concerning our food supply, we will of course contact you. Be sure, you will learn when we are hungry."

On the last sentence the Great Khan flashed his blood-stained teeth, enjoying the panic in the tapir's eyes. When he continued he lowered his voice to whisper, while looking at his claws, from which the blood of his opponents dripped.

"As for the little spy you owe this peace to. If even a single hair has been harmed on her head, pray that the ancestors will be merciful to your soul, for my warriors and I will not be."

With these words, the Great Khan left the tapir alone and slowly went to his warriors, who for the moment were still celebrating their victory.

The next days were to bring great changes.

It was Beauty that killed the Beast:

Indeed, the next few days brought some changes that would transform the face of the jungle in the long run.

While the tigers, after a short break, drove all other carnivores out of the jungle in a wave of violence that did not even stop at heinous atrocities. In the camp of the herbivores things went along clearly more calmly.

Pequeña Franja sat in her cell, it was not as if she could not have broken out of it at any time. There would be nothing in this camp that would stop her even for a moment... except maybe...

But before she could finish this thought, a shadow appeared in front of the door of her cell. It was still too early for her meal, though. She slowly stood up and retreated to one of the corners, merging with the shadows. When the door opened, a young tapir stood at the door, holding a jug in front of its chest.

"Little stripe?"

Pequeña Franja did not move. Her visitor entered the cell and looked around.

"Little stripe?"

It repeated the question. The voice sounded young, uncertain, and concerned, but not afraid. Pequeña Franja broke free from the shadows and stood behind the tapir. Her clawed hand raised silently and aimed at the neck.

"Gordito Torro sent me. He said it was time to make good on your promise."

Pequeña Franja's eyes widened, her hand jerked back. She hesitated uncertainly, but finally, just before the tapir turned, she put her hand on its shoulder. Her visitor winced and dropped the jar. The loud clang in the otherwise quiet room was startlingly loud. The tapir turned and stumbled back, but before it could scream, the assassin put a finger to its lips and looked deep into its eyes. The panic was evident in the tapir's eyes. Pequeña Franja shook her head very slowly and placed another finger on her own lips.

"Shhhh..."

The tapir's breath went in rapid irregular puffs and it shook uncontrollably all over its body. The assassin sniffed and finally looked down. When she looked back up at her visitor, her gaze was full of compassion. She straightened up and stepped back, avoiding the spreading puddle. As she turned, she was just able to take a side step before a large water buffalo warrior appeared in the doorway.

"What's going on?"

He asked in a loud voice, clutching his mace. He looked around and saw the young tapir crouched by the bed in the corner.

"Lima, where is the prisoner?"

Trembling, the tapir raised her hand and pointed next to the water buffalo. Before he could react, he felt her hand gently on his. Silently, she moved in front of him and smiled at him as only a carnivore could.

"You don't scare me."

Remarked the warrior coldly, looking down at the little assassin. Her grin widened and she tilted her head. Slowly, she pulled her hand from his. He didn't even feel it, but he saw very well how his skin split under her claws and he started to bleed. He smiled wryly.

"Now stop your games, the bull awaits you."

His voice remained firm even though his eyes widened when he noticed that the wounds did not stop bleeding.

Pequeña Franja bowed deeply, clasping her hands behind her back. As she straightened back up, she pointed the way with one of her hands.

"Damn it, Lima get your act together, take this beast to Gordito Torro, I need to get to the healer, this won't stop bleeding."

Grunted the warrior and pressed on the wounds with his other hand before quickly moving away. The assassin looked into the cell and smiled. The reached out to the young tapir, but Lima kept her hands close to herself as she stood up and pushed past Pequeña Franja as far away as she could get. Pequeña Franja looked at her hand and then at Lami and finally at her hand again. Grinning, she pulled it back again and tilted her head. The young tapir led the way and walked quickly ahead. The assassin followed her, silent as always and with a broad smile on her lips. As they walked through the camp of the herbivores, everyone who saw her took a step or two back. Children were draged into houses and the doors were shut. It was a feast for her that she could spread such panic among the herbivores without even making any effort.

They climbed the steps to the bull's chambers. With each step they climbed, the smile on their lips disappeared more. When they finally reached the top of the stairs, her expression was petrified and her ears were laid back. Her whole attitude and aura had turned completely in the last 20 seconds. At the foot of the stairs she looked like a little child on her way to a birthday party. Now she looked like the embodiment of death that she was. When Lima turned to tell her that they had arrived, she instantly fell silent and almost swallowed her tongue. There was no longer a tiger in front of her, the creature that stood before her exuded a coldness that froze the blood in one's veins, whose looks could kill and whose mere presence aged the others in the room by years. Lima was not able to move arbitrarily, but her body did it anyway and moved out of the way of the assassin.

When Pequeña Franja entered Gordito Torro's chambers, there was absolute silence. The bull was lying on his bed. His entire body was covered with bandages. The mighty leader of the water buffalo was close to death. The number of injuries he had sustained in the fight was too much even for him. It was obvious that the bull would lose this fight. When she stood in front of his bed, he turned his head to her. He smiled weakly.

"Have you come to make good on your promise?"

Pequeña Franja did not move. She looked down from half-closed eyes at the bull lying absolutely helpless before her.

"Yes I had also imagined the fulfillment of your promise differently. It was supposed to be a last glorious fight..."

He said weakly. Even from his voice his strength was gone. She approached his bed and put her hand on his chest. Her hand looked so tiny on the bull's gigantic chest.

"It weighs heavy, the responsibility in your hand. I can feel it."

He closed his eyes. His breathing was in shallow puffs. She could feel his heartbeat. It was already very slow and weak. She took his hand and in a reiteration of her gesture from a few days ago, placed it on her chest. So he coould feel her heartbeat as well. Unlike his, her heartbeat went in strong and regular beats. When he opened his eyes again, a little of his strength had returned to his gaze.

"Don't let it end like this. Do what you came for. What you promised me."

She nodded slightly and lifted her hand from his chest. Laying down his hand beside him the bull relaxed and stretched his neck.

Her movement was so fast that it was almost impossible to see. She turned around and took the first step away from the bed before it happened. Her eyes were watery as the wounds on the bull's neck opened and the fountain of blood painted the walls and ceiling behind her red. When she left the bull's chambers her tears were already gone again. Outside there was no one that would stop her.

She was not quite on the top of the stairs when she disappeared.

The scream of the young tapir when she found the bull echoed through the camp for a long time.

The Lesser Evil:

When at last tranquility returned to the jungle, nothing was the same as it had once been. Not only was there basically only one large group of carnivores left and the general number of species in the jungle had declined significantly due to the war, the jungle itself had changed. Large tracts of land had been devastated in the long term. Nature would take years, if not decades, to restore these areas. With the absence of some species, the flora and fauna of the jungle would change permanently. None of the surviving species could foresee what long-term changes and problems this would bring.

At the moment, no one cared. They had survived and ended this war, that was all that mattered for the moment.

When the Great Khan's messengers finally arrived at the herbivore camps and delivered the Great Khan's summons to attend a meeting at the temple, most of the herbivores were skeptical.

The Tigers were the last carnivores left. They were the ones who had offered the truce, devised the plan to drive out the other carnivores, and thus ended the war.

Technically, they had not won the war, but if they had not ended the war, the herbivores would almost certainly have lost it.

Now that Gordito Torro, the nominal leader of the herbivores was dead, there was disunity among the herbivores. The war was over, there was no longer a common enemy. The other herbivores were now competitors again when it came to the best feeding grounds and the best breeding / rearing grounds.

The Great Khan knew this and would use it to his advantage when presenting them with "his" terms for a lasting peace. All in the name of...

the Greater Good.