Chapter Thirty-Seven

Justin stared silently at the thin shaft of early-morning light that
penetrated between the curtains of the window and shone on the ivory-white of
the plaster of the wall. He remembered all-too-well the breakdown that he'd
suffered yesterday afternoon. "Those folk are counting on me to be a
leader and I start crying like a two-year-old child!" He angrily thought
to himself. But then, he'd been doing that an awful lot lately. "I guess
it can be pretty hard to keep your emotions in check when your world's being
turned upside-down." He decided, not that this explanation made him feel
any better.

Just outside the bedroom, he heard a rustling and, a moment later, two light
taps on the door. "Come in." He said.

"Are you decent?" Linney asked, the hint of mischief in her voice
clear even from the other side of the door.

Justin smiled, remembering the little game that they had played when he was
young. The large number of children in the Frasier home had made privacy a rare
commodity and when Justin had been given the opportunity to have a room to
himself for several months one summer he'd guarded his privacy zealously,
demanding that he be given time to make himself "decent" before
anyone entered. But Linnette would sometimes "accidentally" barge in
and; when he complained; playfully point out that as well as being unable to
see him, she had changed his diapers enough that it really didn't matter if he
was "decent" or not. "No," He answered with a touch of his
own playful sarcasm. "But that certainly never stopped you before."

Linnette laughed and opened the door. "Alright, Sleepyhead, your
breakfast is on the table. I have to go and meet with the other farmer's wives
so that we can plan on how we're going to contribute to the fight against
Jenner." She stated.

"Thanks." Justin said. "By the way, is the Sheriff still
here?" He asked as an afterthought.

"'Fraid not. He stayed the night but left just before dawn."
Linnette said. "Is something wrong?"

Justin shrugged. "Nothing that can't wait until I see him again."
He said.

Linnette started to leave but changed her mind and came in and sat at the
side of the bed, her face more serious. She cupped her paws in her lap, a sign
among the family that she wished for undivided attention; Justin acknowledged
by placing his paws in hers. "Justin, you know that I would never try to
pry into your affairs; but what did you find at your father's house? I mean,
did you find what you were looking for?" She asked.

Justin shook his head. "I found the tomb in which he's buried, but I'm
afraid that with him and my mother died the answers to all the questions that I
have about my life before my adoption. It's as if there's a third book that Dr.
Ages never got to write and whose pages are now forever closed to me." He
said, both sadness and bitterness in his voice.

As she had years ago, whenever one of her many younger siblings had fallen
and scraped a knee or been stung by a bee, Linnette put a comforting arm around
Justin and drew him to her and began rocking him gently back and forth.
"The past is gone little brother." She said softly. "Nothing
that you or I do or say can bring it or mom and dad or your real parents back.
But I always want you to remember that Galen and I will always love and support
you no matter how all this turns out." She then lifted herself from the
bed. "Please tell Mrs. Brisbee that we'll try to make her and her children
as welcome and comfortable as possible under the circumstances." She said
as she left the room. A few moments later she was out the door and tapping her
way down the path toward the nearby village.

After he'd bathed, dressed and eaten the breakfast that his sister had
prepared, Justin too was gone; leaving the darkened and lonely cottage behind.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

It was well past Noon when the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire returned to his
office. His Deputy-in-Charge, a ferret named Clyde Pegg, told him that all had
been quiet during his absence but the courier-mail was stacking up. Brutus
waved a dismissive paw and told Clyde to gather as many of the other Deputies
as possible together for a meeting later that night. He then retired to his
office, angrily throwing aside the courier bags that lay on his desk and chair.
He then opened the safe and removed the letter of resignation. He then added to
it, signed it, and shoved it into one of the bags.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Roll-Call room, as it was known, was filled with the controlled chaos of
hushed conversation. Word had spread quickly among the Deputies that something
of great importance was to be announced.

The room fell silent as Brutus and Clyde; followed by Wendell, who carried a
small portable desk, paper, pen and a small bottle of ink; entered, looking
very grim. Clyde took his place behind the small lectern, Brutus sat in a large
chair against the wall behind him and Wendell sat at the far right seat of the
front row.

Clyde then called for order and took roll-call. One-by-one, all the Deputies
either answered to their names or were confirmed as on duty elsewhere.

Clyde then stepped aside and Brutus stood and took his place. He waited for
Wendell to finish writing and said, "It is my sad duty to announce that,
effective immediately, I've resigned my office as Sheriff of
Nottinghamshire."

The room itself seemed to gasp. Then it erupted in confusion. Clyde again
stepped to the lectern and began pounding a gavel on a block, calling for
order. After the assembly again fell silent, one of the Senior Deputies; a
weasel named Wilbur Splitbranch; raised his paw.

"Yes, Wilbur." Clyde said wearily. "I see you. What's your
question?"

Wilbur stood. "I know this is askin' the obvious," He said, his
voice heavy with self-importance. "But, uh, why's the Sheriff
leavin'?"

Clyde frowned. While he had no problem with weasels in general; they were,
after all, distantly related to his own species; he never could figure out how
the Waning-Crescent Clan; of which Wilbur was a leading and influential member
and to which Wendell, as well as most of the other weasels in the Shire, also
belonged; had survived as long as it had. While they had reputations as hard
workers, they were not considered to be the brightest members within their
species. "You're right, Wilbur, it is asking the obvious." He said
with more than a hint of irritation in his voice. "But I think that it
would be best if I let the Sheriff tell you himself. Sheriff?"

Clyde again stepped aside, letting Brutus have the floor.

"My reason for resigning is actually quite simple," Brutus began.
"I've decided that I can no longer serve my oath to the laws of Britain
AND serve the King in good faith. Yesterday I took a blood-oath to give my
life, if necessary, to oppose and overthrow King Jenner because his conduct
toward his subjects; you as well as I; has become intolerable." Brutus
paused and gazed upon the astonished faces of his Deputies; except for Wendell,
who was madly scribbling his notes. He then continued. "I realize that,
technically, this constitutes an act of treason on my part. Well, so be it. If
I end up on a gallows at some later date, I go knowing that my conscience is
clear. But until that happens, I'm going to fight against Jenner's
tyranny." Brutus paused again and took a deep breath. Now would come the
hardest part of all. "Now, what I'm about to do next may sound a bit
crazy..."

"It can't be anymore crazy than what we've already heard!" Shouted
a voice from somewhere in the audience. Some of the Deputies broke out in
laughter.

Brutus smiled a bit but turned serious again and continued. "But I'm
going to ask you to carefully weigh your loyalty to your oath as Deputies
against whatever loyalty that you may feel for King Jenner as I did. Personally
I found him wanting, badly, in all respects and could not see a time in the
future when things might get any better. Then, if you feel the way that I do,
I'm going to ask you to join me in helping to kick his tail off the Throne!"

Immediately, a whole roomful of paws shot up and dozens of questions were
shouted at the Sheriff and Deputy-in-Charge or whispered between the seated
members. After several minutes of gavel-pounding, a modicum of order was
restored and Clyde pointed to a hare who had kept his paw raised.

The hare, whose name was Liam, stood and asked, "Join you where? And
while I do believe that His Majesty's definitely gone off his rocker,"
This brought another round of guffaws from the assembled Deputies, "What makes
you think that anyone'll help you? After all, didn't you help him take the
Throne in the first place?"

An angry buzz erupted from the other Deputies and several tried to shout the
hare down, but Brutus raised a paw and they immediately fell silent. "Yes,
I did help Jenner to get where he is today. I let my own greed for power and
fear of King Nicodemus's plans to reform the Office blind me to his transparent
manipulations and override my better judgment. But now I've seen the error of
my ways and can't, in good conscience, serve him any longer." He said
earnestly. He then explained his meeting with Justin and the farmers the
previous day and Justin's plan to use his father's estate as his base of
operations against Jenner.

A buzz again rose from the audience. Then Senior Deputy Wilbur stood and
said, "I have somethin' to say about this!" Several in the room
commented to the effect that Wilbur usually seemed to have something to say
about EVERYTHING, but Clyde gaveled them to silence and indicated to Wilbur
that he could now speak.

"Now I realize," The weasel stated, "That our clan's not
considered the brightest in the realm; an' perhaps this is even true. But a
good-sized number of my relations are farmers themselves who've worked very
hard for whatever respect the Waning-Crescent Clan HAS earned. King Jenner's
Land Repossession Decree would've thrown all that hard-won respect right in the
loo..." Other Deputies, themselves part-time farmers or relatives of
farmers, nodded sympathetically. "...In fact, I had planned on goin' to
the City myself to make a personal complaint to His Majesty. But I see now that
such a complaint would only have fallen on deaf ears. But I am smart enough to
know a good thing when I see it, an' if the Sheriff thinks that this Justin and
his effort to dethrone King Jenner is worth givin' up his job an' even dyin'
for; then so do I!"

A tremendous cheer erupted from the rows of Deputies and several shook paws
with Wilbur and offered congratulations as he sat back down. Even Clyde nodded
his approval.

Once the cheering had did down, Brutus addressed Wilbur specifically.
"I hope you realize the danger that you'll be Ωplacing yourselves
in. Jenner's not gonna tolerate this challenge to his power." He said.

"An' we're not gonna tolerate his abuse of power!" Wilbur spat
back. "My clan has no objection to subjecting itself to the legitimate
rule of the Crown, but we will NOT allow ourselves to suffer enslavement by the
King!"

Again the audience cheered, several Deputies patting his sharply sloping
shoulders to show their approval. Brutus nodded. "Glad to have you on
board, Deputy." He said. "Now, if there's anyone who; for whatever
reason; still wishes to serve Jenner, please leave the room now and nothing
will be held against you." Brutus paused but, other than the scrape of a
chair leg and a few nervous coughs, nobody moved from their seats. "Okay,
now to the nitty-gritty. I've had Wendell draw up a resignation petition that
will go out with the next courier. Basically it tells Jenner that we don't like
the way he's running Britain and that we refuse to carry out the Repossession
Decree. If you want to make any comments after you sign, be my guest; there's
plenty of paper." Scattered laughter erupted from the Deputies.
"After you sign, go home to your families. Then I strongly suggest that
tomorrow you finish whatever harvesting you need to do and head for the
Locksley Estate because I rather doubt that whoever Jenner appoints in my place
is gonna be in anything like a forgiving mood."

"But what about our houses and lands?" Liam asked skeptically.
"If we leave, won't Jenner just take them anyway?"

Brutus nodded. "Yes, but you'll at least be free to have a fighting
chance to get them back and your family will be safe instead of being at the
not-so-tender mercies of the King." He said pointedly.

"What should we bring with us?" Another Deputy asked from the back
of the room.

"No more than you absolutely need." Brutus replied. "Things
like your harvests, weapons, tents and whatever will help you get through the
coming Winter are fine; but stuff like furniture, unless you plan on using it
for kindling to start your fires, are best left at home."

"But my mother's confined to bed!" Said a third. "What about
her?"

Brutus rolled his eyes in frustration. Clyde noticed and quickly stepped in
to help him. "I'm sure we'll be able to figure out something." The
ferret said. He then pointed to Wendell. "Remember to sign the resignation
petition before you leave." He announced. He then rapped the gavel on the
lectern and hastily dismissed the meeting.

Shortly afterward; Brutus, Clyde, Wilbur and Wendell were gathered in
Brutus's office. It had taken about another two hours, but eventually all of
the other Deputies in the Shire had signed the petition. "Well,"
Brutus said wearily, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "That went a whole lot
better than expected." He then leafed through the petition one last time,
rolled it into a scroll, tied it with a length of scarlet ribbon and placed it
in the courier's bag that lay on his desk. "At least no one tried to
arrest me for high treason to the Crown." He said without humor.

"You've done the right thing, Sir!" Wendell said excitedly.
"An' I'm also proud of you, Uncle Wilbur! I thought only the Sheriff could
speechify like that!"

"Yeah," Clyde said, "Even I've gotta admit I'm
impressed."

Wilbur shrugged. "The Waning-Crescent Clan owes a great deal of loyalty
to the other animals in Nottinghamshire." He said solemnly as his voice
grew hushed and his eyes took on a far-away look. "When our grandparents
came to Britain during the war after escaping from the Continent, none of the
other Sheriffs would let them stay for very long for fear that we'd be disloyal
an' cause trouble. But for some reason Nottingham was different. The Sheriff an'
the other animals actually made them feel welcome."

Brutus smiled. The Sheriff of Nottinghamshire at that time had been his own
father, Benjamin; newly appointed to the Office by King Nicodemus's father,
King Sigmund. That Brutus's father would extend such a kindness to other
animals, even weasels from a foreign land, didn't surprise the son in the
least. His father had always loved helping others and had taken his oath to
carry out the laws of the Crown very seriously; but always with compassion. But
Brutus's smile turned to sadness as he remembered the events that had brought
him to this point. He couldn't help wondering what his father would think of
him; after all, hadn't he helped create this very situation by his own
complicity in King Nicodemus's murder? "But I've changed." He
reminded himself. "I've sworn on my own life to rid Britain of that
mistake and I fully intend to carry out my vow." Maybe his father wouldn't
judge him quite so harshly after all.

Brutus was roused from his thoughts by the sound of flapping wings at the
door. Even before a first knock, Wendell was out Ωof his seat. He bolted
to the door and ushered the visitor inside. It was a rook, one of the King's
official couriers.

Brutus grabbed the cloth bag from his desk and tossed it to the bird, who
caught it expertly.

The rook regarded him with wary gray eyes as he felt the weight of his
package. "Feels a tad light tonight." He said, his voice a throaty
rasp. "Yours are usually the heaviest ones on my route." He used his
beak to indicate the other bags slung across his back.

"Then what're you complaining about?" Brutus asked calmly. But
inside, every nerve was on edge.

The rook shrugged. He then placed the bag around his neck and stepped back
into the blackness of the night, only the sheen of his black feathers from the
dim light from the lamp in the room giving any clue that he was there. A quick
flap of his powerful wings sent him airborne and Southward to his next stop.

Wendell closed the door against the cold, but thankfully windless, Autumn
night.

"Well my friends, I have a feeling that we're all in some real serious
trouble." Wilbur observed nonchalantly.

Clyde arched an eyebrow. "Anybody ever tell you that you have a gift
for stating the obvious?" He said sarcastically.

"Nope." the weasel said mischievously. "Your the first."