Prologue

King Nicodemus was dead. Killed by the treachery of his adopted brother,
Jenner, the Prince Regent. Jenner, a vain, selfish, overambitious lion, had
planned his Sovereign's death to the last detail. The King had been overseeing
the construction of a new section of the tower where the Crown Jewels are
stored when they are not on view; both to remind the King of his obligation to
his subjects, and to show the other animals the power of their King. At the
precise moment that King Nicodemus had stepped into a predetermined area,
called there by a "worker" who was actually one of Jenner's henchmen,
several others used iron bars to topple a section of the wall that had been
secretly weakened the night before. King Nicodemus, along with Sir Jonathan
Brisbee, his most trusted advisor, was killed instantly.

Jenner, a firm believer in efficiency over compassion, immediately seized
the throne and, in a record-fast ceremony, had himself crowned King. He then
gave his subjects, still taken aback by the speed of events, a hard choice:
"Serve the Glory of your new King with all your Heart!", meaning, of
course, higher taxes and more labor in the fields to support the lifestyle to
which Jenner and his friends had become accustomed, or have all of your
property confiscated anyway and probably either end in one of His Majesty's
debtors prisons or be exiled to the countryside. He also ordered his new
Captain-of-the-Guard; a slovenly, ill-humored wolf named Sullivan; to hunt down
and capture or, more preferably, kill the former Captain, a highly respected,
much-loved fox named Justin.

Chapter One

"C'mon, m'lady. we have to leave NOW!" Justin said sternly,
hoisting young Timothy Brisbee into his arms. A driving rain, along with
white-hot lightning and the booming peals of accompanying thunder, would serve
to cover their escape from Londontown only temporarily. Lady Marian Brisbee,
widow of Sir Jonathan, tearfully nodded and finished tying her cape. A
beautiful vixen, her manner both at court and among the common people was much
admired and her smile was said to light up whatever room she entered. But now,
mourning the death of her husband and dressed in some old, threadbare traveling
clothes that Justin had brought with him to disguise their hasty escape, her
beauty, while still much in evidence, was also much subdued.

Her children, a young rabbit family that she and Jonathan had adopted from
the King's Orphanage only months before, were also ⁄dressed for the trip
in a similar manner. Theresa and Martin, the oldest, were confused but realized
the gravity of the situation and remained, for the most part, calm. Youngest
daughter Cynthia, however, was on the verge of hysterics, first demanding to
know where her father was and when he would be arriving home, then, when Justin
finally broke the news to them as gently as he knew how, bursting into tears
and running to hide under her bed. It took the better part of an hour to calm
her down enough to get her ready to leave, but no one knew how long this would
last. Timothy, the youngest of all the children, was also calm, almost
strangely so. He had just recovered from a life-threateningly intense bout with
pneumonia, a feat which had had the court-physician scratching his head. But
something had happened to Timothy in that time. Where he had once been bubbly,
playful and carefree; he was now more shy and withdrawn, sometimes waking,
terrified and soaked in sweat, in the middle of the night screaming that
monsters were after him.

After a last longing look to make sure that she had left nothing that would
give Sullivan any clue as to their whereabouts, Lady Brisbee blew out the last
candle and stepped out of the door of her manor, not bothering to lock it, and
into the rain and an uncertain future. Justin was waiting under the light of a
lantern which was hanging from a pole on a small handcart which held the few
meager possessions that Justin had instructed them to bring as well as Timothy
and Cynthia, both of whom shivered miserably as they huddled under a
rain-soaked canvas tarp, with Martin and Theresa, who were lost in their own
thoughts. At a nod from Justin, they began to trudge along the muddy streets.

No one spoke as Justin led them away from the City. The rain poured for
several more hours but, gradually, began to taper off. Lady Brisbee could see
that Timothy and Cynthia had crawled to the middle of the cart and fallen
asleep in each others arms under their ersatz blanket. Martin; a bright lad who
shared his father's courage and curiosity, sometimes to the point of
recklessness; dutifully kept up the punishing pace that Justin had set, a range
of emotions playing across his face, enhanced by the shadows from the dim light
of the lantern no matter how hard he tried to hide them. Theresa, a usually
fun-loving but practical-minded girl, was visibly tiring and had a death-grip
on the cart as she grimly plodded along, tears of exhaustion streaming from her
eyes. Brisbee had cried silently to herself most of the night, her tears washed
by those of Nature as both mourned the untimely death of a loving husband and
father. But, like the rain, her tears were spent and the task of supporting the
family now rested, as uneasily as she hoped that the Crown of Britain rested on
Jenner's head, on her shoulders.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Justin suddenly stopped and rested the
cart on its supports so quickly that Theresa nearly collided with it. Cynthia
awoke and timidly asked, "What happened? Why have we stopped?"
Theresa, meanwhile, collapsed to her knees and crawled to lean against one of
the cart's wheels.

Justin ducked out from behind the push-handle and said, "Rest here for
a few minutes. I have to talk with your mother." With a slight nod he
indicated the direction that they were to walk.

A few minutes later, when they were out of earshot of the children, Justin
stopped and pulled an object out of a pocket of his vest and held it up to the
first rays of dawn that were beginning to peer over the horizon. Lady Brisbee
recognized it immediately. It was a round, blood-red stone, about the size of
Cynthia's fist, set into aplain gold backing attached to a thin gold chain. An
inscription on the reverse read "You can Unlock any Door if You only have
the Key." It had been given to Jonathan when he had been appointed
Chancellor by King Nicodemus several years ago. "You know about the
legends behind the history of this." Justin stated, his voice betraying a
hint of concern and...something else...fear? Lady Brisbee nodded, taken aback
by this. Justin regarded the Amulet in the ever-so-slowly increasing sunlight.
"I've always known about them too," He said almost reverently,
talking more to himself than Lady Brisbee. "but I never really believed
them."

"And you do now?" Brisbee asked, worried that the events of the
past several hours were taking their toll on Justin's rational thought
processes.

A part of his resolve collapsed as he closed his eyes and sadly shook his head,
a tear running down his face until it was soaked up by fur. "No." he
murmured. Then he opened his eyes, which burned with an intensity that she had
never seen before. "But Jenner does. Andso do many of the other animals.
That's why you and the children are in such danger. If Jenner should ever get
his paws on this amulet he could use it to bend the Nation to his will."
He took one of Lady Brisbee's paws and gently placed the amulet into it.
"The only safe place in the Kingdom right now is the forests of Sherwood
in my birthplace, Nottinghamshire." He pointed down the road in the
direction that they had been walking. "I know that you and the children
are tired, but you need to keep going as quickly as possible until you see a
small branch-path on the right-hand side of the road next to a low stone wall.
Take that path into the forest; it's narrow, dark and frightening, but that's
the whole idea; and follow it until you see a house on the edge of a small
clearing. Dr. Ages should be somewhere about, he never wanders very far from
his laboratory. Don't be surprised if he already knows you. Tell him what has
happened, although I suspect he may already have heard, and tell him that I
will try to be back as soon as I'm able."

Lady Brisbee, not sure of what to make of his instructions, nodded
hesitantly and asked. "But where are you going? If Jenner is looking for
you, wouldn't it be safer to come to this Dr. Ages with us?"

Justin shook his head. "Safer for me, maybe, and then only in the short
run. But if I present myself as a more convenient prey, then perhaps the hounds
will ignore the more important scent. Besides, I have an important task to
perform back in Londontown." He added, his voice dripping with dark fury.
He then gently took her by the shoulders and gazed intently into her eyes.
"You hold the future of Britain and the freedom of her subjects in your
paws." He whispered. "Jonathan's love for you, I can see, was not
misplaced and, if you keep your chin up, all will turn out well." He then
turned and walked back to the hand-cart. By now, Timothy was also awake and the
sun was sending its first sliver of full light over the horizon. Martin had
found some straight branches and some lengths of rope and, with the tarp,
rigged a tent that covered the bed of the cart, where Theresa was now asleep.
Justin complimented the young Brisbee on his resourcefulness as he reached in
and, carefully so as not to wake Theresa, removed his sword and scabbard, bow,
quiver and arrows. Martin beamed proudly as he thanked the fox, who was already
marching toward the City.

Chapter Two

"I trust you bring me some positive news?" The figure at the
window intoned without turning around.

Sullivan prayed inwardly, glad that he was already on bended knee. "I'm
afraid not, Your Majesty. Both the Brisbee family and the Amulet were gone by
the time we got there. Someone even forgot to lock the front door. We were able
to just walk right in."

"Justin, I suppose." Said the figure morosely. "His way of
rubbing my face in the fact that he's one step ahead of me." The figure
then turned and walked toward a door that led to the courtyard overlook.
Sullivan signaled the soldiers with him to remain where they were and followed.

When they reached the overlook, Sullivan cleared his throat and said in his
most soldierly voice, "Your Majesty, permission to speak freely?"
Jenner, chin resting on interlocked fingers as he leaned on the stone wall,
gave a curt nod.

"Sir," Sullivan began, hoping that Jenner understood that he was
trying to talk soldier-to-soldier rather than Officer to King. "You now
have what we were all after. You now wear the Crown and sit on the Throne of
Britain. What difference does it make whether or not you wear some worthless
red stone around your neck when you have a whole nation under your feet?"

"Sullivan, do you know the legends behind that 'worthless red stone';
as you call it?" Jenner asked, his voice cold and distant.

"Of course, Sir," Sullivan replied. "Every child in the realm
grows up with those stories. They've been passed down for longer than this
Kingdom has existed."

"Yes, my friend, and do you know why that is so?" Jenner turned
and stared hard into Sullivan's eyes, an almost demonic cast in his own.
"Because those stories; those legends, ancient as they are; are
true!" The new King began pacing agitatedly along the walkway. "All
those battles won, all those armies defeated by heros who had only one thing in
common: they all wore that Amulet!" Seeing that his acolyte was
unconvinced, he continued on a different tack. "Besides, whoever possesses
that Amulet has the respect of all of Britain. I'm under no illusion that I've
started my rule with clean paws. Rumors as to the circumstances of my dear adopted
brother's death are already spreading through the city like wildfire. As with
all rumors there will be that few who, after the fires of half-truth and lies
are extinguished, will keep a few embers of fact burning, always ready to fan
them into flames of scandal at the first opportunity." He pounded his fist
on the stone railing. "This I cannot abide with! If, with or without the
stone, the people refuse to obey my will as their legitimate Sovereign, then
they will be punished!" Jenner then stepped to Sullivan's side and
whispered conspiratorially, "If, however, the flames that I've described
can be stopped before they can do any major damage, who knows? The one who most
diligently stamps out the fires would certainly be deserving of certain, shall
we say, benefits?"

Sullivan, a follower of Jenner since becoming one of his guards many years
ago, had learned quite well that, while vain and power-hungry, Jenner had a
certain perverse sense of loyalty, believing that not only could you, for the
right price, buy both happiness and friends, but, for just a bit more, you
could also keep them. He nodded his understanding.

"Excellent!" Jenner smiled, baring his fangs; a sign that Sullivan
knew meant that failure on his part meant the most dire of consequences.
"A most dangerous flame burns even as we speak. I suggest that you find it
and put it out as soon as possible." Jenner then quickly turned his back
on Sullivan, his black cape billowing behind him, and strode through the
doorway, leaving Sullivan to figure out how he was going to deal with a wily
fox named Justin.

Chapter Three

In the next several hours after Justin had left the Brisbee family to
continue their journey, Lady Marian; with the help of Martin or a now somewhat
stronger Theresa; had struggled to pull the cart as far as she could throughout
the day. Justin had made it look so easy. "But then," She thought to
herself, "He is a well-trained and disciplined professional soldier suited
to a life of physical exertion. I, on the other paw, am...was a noblewoman of
the court of King Nicodemus. The only work that I was expected to do was to
administer the royal household. Now I'm a hungry, penniless, tired widow with
four children to support." She sighed to herself, deciding that fate,
indeed, was a sometimes cruel, sometimes benevolent, force.

A sudden noise from the trees of the forest surrounding them broke into her
thoughts. She could have sworn she had heard something, a voice maybe? But the
children gave no indication of having heard anything. Martin was still at her
side doing his level best to make his mother's labor easier to bear. Theresa,
though still weak from exhaustion, was at the rear, pushing the cart. Timothy
and Cynthia were walking ahead, tossing stones and small pebbles out of the way
of where they thought the cart's wheels would roll.

There it was again! Much closer too! "Could it be Highwaymen?" She
thought to herself. King Nicodemus had rid all but the most isolated areas of
his realm of these robbers. But had word of his death traveled so fast among
them that they now felt safe to resume their nefarious activities? And in broad
daylight, no less! She dreaded the thought of having to deal with such
cutthroats, even though Justin had let them pack only the most necessary items
and making her leave her most valuable possessions at the manor. "Calm
down," She chided herself. "Or you'll scare yourself silly!"

SNAP! This time even the children had heard it! Martin and Theresa looked up
in surprise toward where they thought the sound had come from. Cynthia was
already running headlong into the forest where Timothy was pointing.
"No!" Lady Brisbee shouted instinctively. But the little rabbit was
too far away to hear her call and too eager and curious to be aware of the
potential danger.

"Martin, stay with the cart!" She ordered, ducking under the
pushbar. "Theresa! Timothy! Did you see where she went?"

"I can still see her, mother!" Timothy shouted excitedly. Lady
Brisbee plunged into the thick bramble that was the border of road and forest.
She too could see her youngest daughter, who seemed to be on her haunches
talking to someone. Thorns and barbs of various types tore into or stuck to her
cape and the fur of her legs and tail, stinging as they were forced to release
her from their futile grip. "Oh, to be a small child again; able to
wriggle through all that and come out unscathed." She thought wistfully.
She could now see that Cynthia was leaning over the edge of a large, deep pit.
Seconds later, she arrived at the same spot and swept the small rabbit into her
arms. "Oh, Cynthia, honey, please, please! Don't ever run into the forest
like that again! You frightened Mommy so much!" She pleaded, almost in
tears. The look of remorse that came to the young rabbit's face was genuine,
but instantly changed to one of glee as she pointed into the hole. "Mommy,
Mommy! There's someone in there! He says he's trapped!"

Lady Brisbee, her eyes more accustomed to the darkness, could indeed see a
figure at the bottom of the void. "Hello?" she asked hesitantly.
"Is everything all right?" A humor-filled voice floated up.
"Well, other than being forced to sleep in this mud-pit half the night.
Yeah, I suppose everything's pretty dandy!" At that moment, Theresa
arrived, holding the glowing lantern. The voice in the hole, they saw, belonged
to a young rooster who, apparently true to his word, was covered comb to spurs
with layers of mud.

After helping the rooster, who introduced himself with a flourish as Jeremy
O'Dale, out of the hole, he led them to a nearby creek to wash the mud off of
his clothes.

"How did you end up in there?" Theresa asked as she wrung out his
shirt.

"Well, it's an odd thing!" Jeremy, who had wrapped himself in a
blanket that Lady Brisbee gave him, said. "I was in the town of
Foth'ringshay playing for my supper at the inn." He indicated a lute that
lay next to him. "I had collected several crown over what I needed to eat
and was going to spend the night; my first in an actual warm bed in many a
week, mind you; when all of a sudden the Sheriff of Nottingham and a bunch of
his Deputies comes swaggering into the place and demands a meal that instant.
Well, the innkeeper tells him that others are waiting to be served and he
too'll just have to wait. The Sheriff, some twit of a bear whose men called him
Brutus, just walks over to the poor bloke and lets him have it across the
snout! Then he tells every one that he's looking for a lady fox and her kids,
rabbits if you can believe that!" Jeremy then noticed the shocked looks on
the faces looking down on him. "What!" he asked, confused.
"What'd I..." Then his eyes bulged with realization. "You!"
he shouted. "You're the ones he's looking for!" The rooster then
began to laugh uproariously. Lady Brisbee and the children, now themselves
confused, looked at each other, mouths agape, and shrugged, unsure what to make
of this. As the laughter subsided to a fit of uncontrolled giggling, Theresa
regarded Jeremy skeptically and said, "Oh great! The local law is after
our heads and we stopped to rescue this looney!"

"Theresa! Mind your manners, young lady!" Scolded Lady Brisbee,
embarrassed by her daughters outburst. "Yes, min' your manners!"
Cynthia piped in.

"Oh, that's okay!" Jeremy said, a bemused cackle in his voice.
"Anyway," He continued, "I walked over to this big bushel of fur
and told him that he had no business hitting defenseless innkeepers and that he
was so fat that even if he saw a lady fox with kids, he'd be lucky to be able
to actually catch them. Well, as you might be able to guess, those few moments
of pleasure had to be paid for with a few hours of pain. He and his Deputies
dragged me here to this hole and threw me in. luckily they didn't damage my
source of income."

Lady Brisbee smiled at Jeremy's good humor, but inside she was in turmoil.
That the Kings Guard was after the Amulet was bad enough, but she could be
reasonably sure that even Jenner would not dare try to harm her. But the
Sheriffs of the various Shires, except in matters pertaining to the collection
of the King's revenues, were pretty much a law unto themselves and while the
majority were conscientious about their duties to their constituents, others
saw the office as a way to enrich themselves because they were entitled to the
excess revenues from seized land or properties. King Nicodemus had tried to
reform this state of affairs, but the changes that were being planned had died
with him.

"By the way," The rooster said off-handedly. "For whom did I
have the honor of taking last nights bath?"

"I'm La..." She hesitated for a moment. All that this wandering
musician knew for the moment was that she and the children were wanted by the
local Sheriff for some unknown reason and seemed sympathetic to their plight.
And while it might later become necessary to divulge why she was on the run,
she decided that Jeremy O'Dale could not lie about that which he didn't know.
"I'm Mrs. Brisbee." She stated calmly. When the children gave her a
collective questioning look, she returned it with one that said, "Go with
me on this one and I'll explain later."

After introducing her children, Mrs. Brisbee asked Jeremy where he was going
next. "Not to Foth'ringshay, that's for sure!" He replied with a
chuckle. "I could head South to Londontown or West to Darby, or even
Coventry. I haven't been that way in several months."

This disappointed Mrs. Brisbee. "Before you go then, could you tell us
how much longer it will be before we find a narrow path next to a low stone
wall to the right side of the road?"

"You mean Ol' Doc Ages place?" Jeremy asked, perplexed.

"You know him?" Mrs. Brisbee asked, also surprised.

"He's let me sleep in his hayloft once or twice, so long as I promised
not to sing for him." He chuckled again, emphasizing the "not".

"Would you be willing to take us at least that far?" she ventured,
heartened by Jeremy's knowlege of the area.

"Sure!" He answered. "I don't have anything to otherwise
occupy my time and even a night in a hayloft is a good step up from one in a
mudhole."

Mrs. Brisbee thanked him and since his clothes; a collection of once classy,
but now out-dated and rather unfashionable, formal wear; were now dry, she had
the children repack the cart. As Martin was about to take his place at his
mothers side behind the pushbar, Jeremy said, "Now there, young lad, you
look a bit tired to these observant eyes. I'll help your mother with the cart
while you get some rest, okay?" Martin looked first at Mrs. Brisbee then,
longingly, at the cart. Mrs. Brisbee nodded her approval and thanked the
rooster. "No problem, Ma'am." He said as the rabbit climbed into the
cart. With that, he nodded in the direction of Dr. Ages house and, picking up
the cart's pushbar, started off.