Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Michael A. Novelli is a descendant of Edgar Allen Poe; he was born into a family of artists. He became a writer, first short fiction, then film critiques, and now he's a correspondent working for agonybooth.com. He wrote Kingdom Rattus while he was deployed in Iraq.

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Kingdom Rattus

iUniverse, Inc.

Chapter One

He crouched in his burrow among the nesting-material, idly grooming the fur on his chest with rough, methodical strokes of his tongue. He nibbled at the tangles, reordering the hairs until they lay flat and clean against his skin. Satisfied, he lifted his head and yawned widely, showing his long incisors and the tiny, sharp molars beyond. A moment later a scent caught in his nostrils and he looked up, whiskers quivering. He saw the shape pausing uncertainly in the entrance to his home, and a satisfied smile settled over his face.

"Mystic ..."

Astran stood up at the sound of the voice. "Come," he rumbled. "Do not be afraid."

She smelled of fear and uncertainty as she ventured toward him, but as soon as she came closer, he could sense the hot lust growing inside her as well.

His smile widened. "You are the one I sent for?"

She paused, lowering her snout to him. "Yes, Mystic. My name is Sequis."

Astran bent and nibbled at the fur on her head. "A beautiful name. Raise your snout, female. I want to see your face."

She obeyed, and he stepped back to examine her. She was young and soft-her gray fur still downy with youth. Most likely she had never mated before. Astran thought of that, and his lust instantly strengthened. A fresh female was better than any other. He eyed her fine, delicate snout and black eyes-bulging slightly with fright. Yes, she would do very nicely.

"Come here," he said. "Relax, and let me touch you."

She obeyed, and he began to groom her. His motions were firm and assured, and he soon felt her muscles loosen under his snout and paws. She had been withdrawing from him, shying away, but before long, as she relaxed under his skillful tongue, she began to press herself against him, wanting more. Astran was happy to oblige her. He led her to his nest and bade her crouch down with him while he groomed her back-slowly working his way down toward her rump.

When he reached her tail, she shuddered and went rigid, her snout thrust forward and her ears quivering. He continued to work at her tail until she let out a little cry and suddenly turned and thrust her snout into the spot where his neck met his shoulder, nuzzling frantically. He let her groom him, all over his broad back and shoulders and his belly, relishing every moment of it until, finally, she reached his tail and the great bulge at its base-and hesitated.

"Do it," he said softly.

To encourage her, he nibbled at the back of her neck until she had satisfied him. After that, growing bored with this play, he gently but firmly turned her around and coupled with her, from behind.

It was over in moments, as it always was with rodents. Astran nuzzled her ears as he made the one, quick thrust that was all their lovemaking amounted to, and then let her go.

She lay very still among the nesting material for a few moments, after he had done. "Is that ...?"

"Yes. Did you like it?"

She raised herself and nodded shyly.

"Good."

She paused. "Would ... would you do it again?"

He reached out for her again, in reply.

They mated several more times that night, and when they were finally done they curled up together in the nest and slept, buried in each others' fur. Astran slept deeply, faint snores rumbling in his chest, untroubled by dreams.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Sequis had gone. He rolled over and yawned. As he lay on his back, idly scratching his flank, his nose suddenly twitched. There was an unfamiliar scent in the burrow.

Astran started to growl. He sat up, ears aggressively flat against his skull. And then, a split second later, he was under attack. A pair of shadowy figures darted forward and seized his arms, wrenching them behind his back. Astran snarled and lurched forward, teeth bared, but he froze as a knife pricked his throat.

"Don't struggle," said a harsh voice. "We've orders not to hurt you."

Astran spat. "Give me one good reason not to hurt you and maybe I won't tear you apart."

The speaker's response was to press the knife into his throat until a trickle of blood started to soak his fur. Astran moved away from it, and furiously allowed the two holding his arms to tie his wrists together.

"Get up," ordered the one with the knife. "You're coming with us."

Astran strode out of the burrow, his powerful tail lashing. She was going to suffer for this, he vowed.

Chapter Two

She too was grooming, in an idle manner that served as a severe insult for her guest. Two mouse slaves opened the door leading into the great burrow where she sat, but she acted as if she hadn't noticed and continued to nip at an imaginary patch of dirt as Astran was led into the room. Astran noticed, as he often had before, that for someone who disapproved of humans she certainly did act like one from time to time.

The trio of powerfully built rats who had brought him stopped in front of the throne and bowed low. They were all large and heavily muscled, but next to their prisoner they looked much smaller. The mystic all but towered over them, radiating aggression. His sandy-gold fur bristled, and his big, ragged ears were laid flat. In a straight fight, Astran could probably have taken them, but his anger had a way of clouding his perspective; had he not been so enraged by his treatment he might have convinced them to allow him to walk in with his head held up.

"Mistress," one of the guards intoned. "We have brought him."

She finally looked up, and her single eye gleamed slyly. "Welcome, Astran."

He glared at her. "Ophiuchus, if you do not have an excellent excuse for this, I'll have no choice but to kill you and toss your carcass into the streets as a souvenir for the mice."

She yawned. "Menudo, untie him and be gone. We shall talk alone."

"Yes, Mistress."

The three rats removed Astran's bonds, and hastily left the burrow. Astran ignored them and rubbed his wrists as he stepped closer to the throne.

"Explain yourself."

It was his custom, when he confronted her, to stand slightly to the side, so that in the extremely unlikely event she got physical with him his punch would have more momentum. He wasn't certain why, but it had become habit by then.

Ophiuchus rested her paws on her bulging white belly. "Well-mannered as always. I am pleased to see your month of binge drinking and whore chasing hasn't changed you for the worse."

Astran rolled his paw and bowed in the manner of the imperial court of Marrow-Vinjia, causing her great consternation, then promptly spat. "Spare me the pleasantries and get to the point."

She watched him for a moment. "You know," she said, "once I wished you would give me grandchildren. Now you give me nothing else. Have you nothing better to do with your time than take every female you find into your nest? You'll run out of rats and be forced to start bedding the mice before long."

"It will be a miracle if I get to bed at all if you plan on making this a habit, dragging me in so early in the morning."

"It's the only time off the day I know for certain you're not drunk."

Astran feigned shock and slapped his cheek. "Well, I'll be," he sang in a mock-genteel voice, "if that just doesn't justify everything. Although, if I may say so, you might...