Chapter Forty-Three

Justin's return was a joyous and, on Mrs. Brisbee's part, tearful occasion.
After the celebratory meal, Stabb told him of the events leading to his own,
Will's, Heather's and LadyKluck's desire to fight Jenner's stranglehold on
Britain. Justin told them of his plans to use the Locksley Estate as his
headquarters from which to oppose Jenner's tyranny.

That night, after all the others had gone to bed, Justin and Mrs. Brisbee
shared a pot of tea in their room.

"I'm sorry I left without telling you." He said. "But I knew
that if I had, you would have insisted on coming with me and I simply couldn't
stand the thought of you in danger."

"And we're not in danger NOW?" She asked, her voice a mixture of
skepticism tinged with anger. "Jenner's been telling all of Britain that
Dr. Ages and I are part of a plot to kill him! So far no one seems to have
taken this propaganda seriously, but who's to say that sometime inthe future
someone, somewhere won't decide that they need a few thousand crowns of extra
spending money and turn us over, along with this," She fingered the chain
of the Amulet, which hung around her neck. "To a King who wouldn't give a
second thought to doing to me and my children what he did to my husband, their
father," She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Your brother!"

Justin nodded sadly. "You're right to be angry with me, I suppose. I've
been so absorbed in my own obsession with my past that I've neglected the
problems of the here-and-now." He said.

Mrs. Brisbee took Justin's paws in her own and held them, feeling their
warmth. "Make no mistake, Justin Locksley, I still love you!" She
declared. "And I want, more than anything, to help you make Jenner pay for
Jonathan's murder; but I also want to know that you'll still be around when all
this is over with and not out chasing every silly little rumor that you might
feel is connected to your past!"

Justin bowed his head. "I understand, Marian. I know that my past, no
matter how much I might want it to be different, can't be relived or
changed." He said. He lifted his eyes to meet Mrs. Brisbee's. "Now
I'm setting my eyes and mind to a time in the future when we and the animals of
Britain can live without having to fear our own shadows. Do you remember what I
told you when we were on the road out of Londontown the morning after Jonathan
and King Nicodemus were killed?"

Mrs. Brisbee's eyes welled with tears as she thought back to that terrible
moment in the first light of dawn. "You said that I held the future of
Britain in my hands..."

"And?" He prodded gently.

"You told me that Jonathan's love for me wasn't misplaced."

"And?" He asked again, his voice more persistent."

"If I kept my chin up, all would turn out well."

"And I still firmly believe that to this very day." He stated.
"But you've got to believe it too. The animals of Britain need to know
that there're those of us who are willing to stand up to Jenner's reign of
terror. I'm willing to lead the fight but I need a strong pillar of support and
a symbol of what this fight is about." Justin gently cupped a paw under
Mrs. Brisbee's chin so that their eyes met. "I need for you to tell
Britain our side of the story; how Jenner and his friends conspired to murder
King Nicodemus and Jonathan in order to enrich themselves and enslave the rest
of us. If Jenner is going to use lies to seduce or terror to instill fear, then
we need to use the truth to strip away those falsehoods; otherwise, Jenner WILL
win and wemay as well admit defeat before we even try to fight the
battle."

Mrs. Brisbee pulled away from Justin, tears streaming from her eyes.
"Is that all I am to you too?" She sobbed angrily, "A propaganda
tool? A peg to hang this damned Amulet on while you rush off to battle for
Hearts and Minds?"

"N-No, Marian! I..." Justin stammered, utterly surprised by the
vehemence of her anger.

"You tell me to keep my chin up!" She cried, "But that's
pretty hard to do when I'm spending my nights worrying about whether or not my
children will spend the rest of their days either on the run as fugitives from
the Crown or, worse, rotting in some dungeon awaiting execution for
treason!" Mrs. Brisbee wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her
paw like a small child and continued. "Dr. Ages told me that he has no
fear of what Jenner could do to him if he were ever captured and I suppose I
can understand that. After all, the better part of his life is behind him.
Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of being able to have THAT outlook! I
have children who depend on me for their survival now that Jonathan is
gone!"

"You're right, Marian." Justin said. "I've spent most of my
life as a soldier. I know what responsibility that entails when it comes to
leading a Troop of other soldiers into battle. But when it comes down to it, my
comrades and I; as soldiers; can at least fight on something like equal terms
with whatever enemy we might be ordered to face. Your children, on the other
paw, depend on you utterly and completely for their very lives. I guess I
forgot that little detail in my rush to take on Jenner." He bowed his
head, his ears drooping sadly. "You're also right about my trying to use
you as a propaganda tool." He said ruefully. "Yes, the animals of
Britain DO need a symbol to rally around; someone or something to personify the
cause that they're fighting for; but if I make you become nothing more than an
object, the peg on which to hang the Amulet or our cause, then yes, you're absolutely
right, and we all might just as well let Jenner keep both the Crown and Amulet
because I'll have become just like him."

Mrs. Brisbee put a consoling arm around Justin's shoulder. "Then you
see what I mean? All I ask is that I be allowed to make the children my first
priority in any decisions having to do with our fight against Jenner; and that
I not become some battle-standard to be paraded around whenever the troops need
a morale boost. I'm a thinking, feeling mother of four who is willing to do whatever
she can to help; but I've got to be allowed to do it on my own terms."

Justin nodded. "Yes, Marian," He said, "I see what you mean
and understand completely. It wasn't your choice for your husband to be
murdered and for you and your children to be dragged from your home in the
middle of the night. I know what it's like to be uprooted; not having any say
in events over which you have no control. Unfortunately, Jenner pretty much has
control over our lives and actions at the moment, even if indirectly. That's
why I need for you to come with me to my father's Estate; so I know that you
and the children will be safe from his reach."

Mrs. Brisbee sighed. Her family had been forcibly relocated twice in one
year. The effects on her; the sleeplessness, the nightmares even when she was
sleeping, the dark circles under her eyes that marred her once radiantly
beautiful face; were bad enough. But she was, in the end, willing to sacrifice
everything; including her health and, if it REALLY came down to it, her life; for
the sake of Theresa, Martin, Cynthia and Timothy. But what about the effects of
this whole debacle on them? Theresa and Martin seemed to be holding up well
enough, although they were probably far behind on their school lessons because
Jeremy; while a fine and patient young soul, bless him; was nearly illiterate;
not that this was any disadvantage to a bard, whose traditions were oral
anyway; and she was always, so it seemed, far too busy with the housework to
continue their lessons. She resolved then and there to change THAT particular
state of affairs. Maybe Lady Kluck would be willing to act as a teacher until
some kind of school could be set up at the Estate. She would, if she could be
persuaded to accept, be more than equal to the task of tutoring the children;
after all, Cynthia and Timothy were also at about the age when they too should
begin school. And poor Cynthia. More and more she had taken to sleeping under
her bed; so often, in fact, that Mrs. Brisbee was on the verge of simply moving
the little rabbit's mattress there so that she wouldn't have to sleep on the
cold, hard wooden floor. And even at that, she was beginning to have nightmares
with a frequency that was beginning to equal her younger brother; although none
of these seemed to be prophetic, just frightening. And Timothy wasn't doing
much better. She had talked to Dr. Ages about the possibility, much as the
thought pained her, of drugging him before bed each night so that he would be
able to get at least SOME kind of decent sleep each night. But Ages had
discouraged this particular notion, telling her that he was afraid that a dose
adequate to put her son into a deep enough sleep each night might, by
necessity, be toxic to his small body as well. And the thought of the coming
Winter loomed in her mind as well. She remembered those long sad nights of the
previous Winter when she and Jonathan had tended to him when he was fighting
for his life against pneumonia, even after the Royal Physician had all but
given up. Somehow, by some miracle of strength or will, Timothy had survived
the ordeal. But if Timothy or any of his siblings were to again come down with
a serious illness, ANY illness, even Dr. Ages would be hard-pressed to deal
with such a situation. At least at the Estate a harsh Winter, while difficult,
would be less likely to escalate into a life-threatening crisis. "Alright,
Justin," She said. "I know that this will probably place a strain on
them, but tomorrow we'll move out of here and over to your father's estate. But
we also need to talk about setting up some sort of school for them."

Justin's face brightened up a bit. "Don't worry, Marian." He said.
"I'm sure my sister, Linney, will more than welcome the idea of a
school."

Mrs. Brisbee gave Justin a hug and kiss goodnight and they slipped under the
covers of theirbeds. After she blew out the candle, she waited for her eyes to
accustom themselves to the dark. Ever so slowly, the darkness and shadows
resolved themselves to a reassuringly lumpy contour as she drifted off to
sleep.

Chapter Forty-Four

Sullivan was both awed and dismayed by the eerie silence that greeted him
and his Deputies on this cold, gloomy Autumn morning. During the week that had
elapsed from Brutus's resignation the residents of the town for which
Nottinghamshire was named had almost completely abandoned it.

"Almost everyone's gone, Sheriff." His Deputy-in-Charge; a ferret
that the others called "Blackjack" because of his nearly jet black
fur and tough, no-nonsense demeanor; said, flipping through a sheaf of notes.
"The only ones left are a few of the larger local landholders who're
exempted from the Repossession Decree."

"And are, therefore, loyal to His Majesty." Sullivan grunted,
completing Blackjack's thought.

"I guess." The ferret shrugged. "They all wanna know what you
plan to do about bringin' 'em back." He stated.

Sullivan pounded an angry fist on the desk that he sat at. "Damned
idiots!" He exclaimed. "How the hell can I bring 'em back when I have
no idea where they've gone!"

Just then, the door to the office flew open and in stomped another Deputy, a
lynx, who was trailing a rope and half-pulling, half-dragging along a hare, who
was tied at the neck and wrists. "Deputy Sillus reporting, Sir!" The
cat said with the slight hiss-like lisp common to his species. "I caught
THIS," He wrinkled his nose disdainfully. "spying on us from the
woods at the edge of town." The hare was probably no older than his late
teens and his fur and clothing were torn and mud- and blood-stained from
numerous small cuts on his face, shoulders and upper chest along with a
good-sized lump over his right eye. Sillus had not escaped from the ravages of
whatever fracas he and his opponent had engaged in either. His clothing was
equally splattered and rent and a small chunk of flayed skin hung from the
underside of one of his ears, a small rivulet of blood still flowing down into
the matted, clotting fur below.

Sullivan frowned. "What's your name, son?" He asked.

"I'll not tell you!" The hare spat defiantly. "You're not MY
father!"

The lynx gave a sharp tug to the rope causing his captive to wince in pain.
"You'll answer the Sheriff if ya know what's good fer ya!"

"Deputy. Why don't you go and get yourself tended to." Sullivan
said, his voice gentle but leaving no room for misinterpretation. The cat
opened his mouth to argue, but the angry glare from Blackjack made him think
better of his words. Sillus quickly turned and stalked out of the office,
exchanging a hateful glare of his own with the prisoner.

Sullivan then turned his attention to the prisoner. "Cut the boy loose,
Deputy." He ordered. Blackjack drew his dagger, which elicited a flicker
of nervousness from the hare's eyes but whose expression was otherwise one of
sullen anger. "Now, what's your name?" He asked again.

"Why should I tell you anythin'?" The hare growled.

Sullivan shrugged. "Well, unless you'd prefer that I call you 'boy' all
the time. But I'd rather be able to call you by name. Mine's Sullivan."

The hare looked skeptically at both the wolf and the ferret. He was in REAL
deep trouble now. When his father had come home that night a week ago and told
them about the mass resignation of the entire law enforcement contingent of the
Shire, he'd pleaded with his father to be allowed to join the new army that
King Nicodemus's former Captain-of-the-Guard was trying to form to fight King
Jenner's tyrannical rule. But his father had scotched that idea, telling him
that "this is a war, son. There's gonna be plenty of killin', mark my
words, an' I'll be dependin' on you to look after your mother, sisters an'
brothers if I'm sent tomeet the spirits." But those words had not
mollified him. Instead, he'd taken the first opportunity while the rest of the
family was moving to the Locksley Estate to slip away and try to get a close-up
look at their would-be oppressors. Unfortunately, he apparently hadn't hidden
himself quite as well as he'd believed because the lynx had come out of nowhere
and proceeded to thrash him and scratch at him. Sure, he'd gotten a few good
licks of his own in; the cat would have scars of its own to prove that; but in
the end the older and stronger animal had prevailed and soon had him subdued.
He finally decided to swallow his pride and hoped that his father would forgive
him for this small act of concession to the enemy. "My name's Declan
Wyclyffe." He mumbled, spelling out the name and emphasizing the two
"Y"sout of years of habit.

Sullivan nodded impassively and said, "Nice to meet you, Declan. I'm
sorry about your run-in with the Deputy. He's young and a bit too eager to
impress. I'll speak to him at some point."

Declan narrowed his eyes. "I know what you're tryin' to do!" He
said, a measure of desperation in his voice. "You're tryin' to get me to
tell you where the others are! Well I won't tell you even if you try to torture
it out of me!"

Sullivan exchanged a look with Blackjack; who shrugged and gave Sullivan a
confused lookof his own. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking
about. My job here is simply to replace the Sheriff and the Deputies who
resigned last week. That's all. I have no interest inwhere anyone went. I
assumed that ⁄they were all at harvest." He said.

Declan eyed the new Sheriff suspiciously. Any idiot should have known that
all of the harvests were completed.

Sullivan sighed. Obviously this kid was no bumpkin. While Sullivan would've
given one of his canine-teeth to know where the town's inhabitants had run off
to, he decided that even torture, for the moment at least, was simply too
extreme a measure and would only do more harm than good. "Deputy." He
said; reaching for a pen, ink and paper.

"Sir?" Blackjack answered.

Sullivan scratched out something, folded the paper and handed it to the
hare. "Take our young guest to the hospital to have his injuries treated,
then take him into the forest and release him. Anyone who tries to stop him
will answer to me." To Declan he said, "Take this note to whoever's
leading the townsfolk."

Declan frowned, but finally nodded.

"Good lad." Sullivan said, and sent them on their way.

A while later, Blackjack returned and reported to him. "The boy's on
his way, sir."

Sullivan nodded pensively.

"Sir, shouldn't we have sent someone to follow him?" The ferret
asked.

Sullivan shook his head emphatically. "No, Deputy. We'll find out soon
enough what's going on. Until then, we've gotta get ourselves organized here.
When the townsfolk left, they seem to have taken every last bushel of their
food with 'em so I'm gonna have to get Jenner to send some our way or we'll all
be diggin' for roots by next week."

Chapter Forty-Five

What a madhouse! Until last night Locksley Manor had been virtually empty;
except for himself, Linney and a few other families who had finished their
harvests a bit early. But today at least a hundred families had shown up, all
clammoring to be allowed under the protective wing of the Locksley name.
Fortunately Galen Talbot, late of H.M. 9th Foot Brigade, was up to the task of
sorting through the chaos that surrounded him. It would be at least another
week before the breach in the kitchen wall was completely repaired because
finding stones to replace those that were missing was taking longer than
anticipated so nights in the manor-house would be breath-foggingly cold for a
while yet, not that it really mattered; he, Linney and all the other animals
were growing their thick, almost shaggy, Winter coats. By day, the cleanup of
the interior was proceeding apace as the walls were stripped of the accumulated
mold and covered with bolts of canvas until the day arrived when the exquisite
murals could be restored to their former glory. A number of families, contrary
to the former Sheriff's recommendation, had brought their furniture and Galen,
as Justin's paw-picked representative, had laid down the law: Any
"nonessential" furniture (i.e. bric-a-brac shelves) was either to be
returned or used as firewood, and "essential" furniture (such as
beds, tables and chairs or benches) would become property of the Estate until
the original owners were able to return home after Jenner was overthrown;
provided, of course, that they could produce the receipt that Galen had written
out for them.

Not all families were opting to stay in the manor-house itself. A large
tent-city was springing up around the edifice and a number of businesses
including both a black-and coopersmith and a woodwright were providing for this
impromptu village. Galen had placed the former Sheriff in charge of bringing
some sort of order to the layout and resolving disputes among animals who might
vie for a "favored" spot. This Brutus did with a flair and almost
military precision that amazed the former Army Colonel. With several former
Deputies, he carefully surveyed and divided lots among various families,
assigning them as fairly as possible under the circumstances.

By Midday most of the major problems were being ironed out and both Galen
and Brutus took a respite in the small office that Galen had set up in a small
block of rooms that were assigned to become Justin and the Brisbee's
living-quarters. Over bowls of hot mushroom and barley soup, prepared by Linney
and the other wives, Galen said, "I really have to thank you for all
you're help today, Sheriff."

Brutus smiled happily and shrugged. "'Twer'n't nuthun'. These folk know
that Justin has theirbest interests in mind and, while there's always gonna be
the potential for friction among them, I think they're also beginning to
realize that he can't do it all alone and that he needs all the support and
cooperation that we can give him." He said.

Galen nodded thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, this brings up something
that I wish I could avoid,but really can't." He said.

"Oh?" Brutus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." Galen answered, pulling his chair closer to Brutus's
"I'd like for you to take over as Justin's second-in-command when he gets
back." Brutus was about to say something, but Galen raised a paw to
silence him. "I know. Justin chose me and I'm sure he had some very good
reasons. But over the past several days I've come to the conclusion that, while
our cause is important, so too is the commitment that I made to Linney when I
fell hopelessly and passionately in love with her. I'm more than willing to
serve in an advisory capacity, but I'm afraid that my main priority is looking
to the comfort and safety of my wife. I hope you'll understand." He
explained.

Again, Brutus smiled. "Of course." He said. "When he gets
back I'll talk to your brother about taking over day-to-day operations. We
should probably also see about having some sort of "town meeting", as
it were, to elect or appoint some sort of council or other governing body so
that we can bettersee to everyone's needs."

Galen nodded his assent. Just then, one of Brutus's former Deputies and his
wife appeared at the door. She was quietly sobbing into her apron and his face
was contorted in both anger and worry.

"Liam, Mrs. Wyclyffe. What's wrong?" Brutus asked.

"It's Declan, our second oldest; he's disappeared." Liam said
quietly, obviously just barely in control of his temper.

"He-He was...helping us...with our move." Mrs. Wycliffe stated
between sobs. "Bu-But we...we lost track of him sometime this
morning."

"Alright, Deputy, you know the drill." Brutus said calmly, lifting
himself from his chair. "Have everyone drop what they're doing and gather
just outside the entrance to the manor-house so we can pick the search
teams." He turned to Galen and said, "We've had to search the forest
for lost kids before so we set up a special procedure." The bear then led
them out of the office, grabbing his ever-present quarterstaff, and took them
to the top landing of the Grand Staircase. He then rapped the 'staff on the
sturdy wooden floor and called for everyone's attention, the two sounds echoing
and reverberating like thunder through the immense structure. He then ordered
everyone outside as quickly as possible.

A few minutes later, all of the animals were gathered outside of Locksley
Manor as Brutus explained the situation. He was about to pick search teams when
he saw a familiar figure, pulling a hand-cart and followed by several other
animals, emerging from one of the forest paths. Mrs. Wyclyffe shouted her joy
as her son climbed wearily down from the cart and ran to him and gave him a
loving hug. Liam strode over and quickly examined his son's bandaged wounds and
said sharply, "I don't know whether to hug you or put you over my
knee!" The little anger that was left on his face then faded to a relieved
smile. "But since someone else has obviously dispensed your punishment, I
guess I'd better give you a dose of comfort." And he too hugged his son.

By now the crowd was gathered around Justin and the strangers who
accompanied him. In all the clamor, no one noticed the black rooster who was
surreptitiously making his way toward the former Sheriff. The bird then approached
the bear from behind, tapped a wing on his massive back and then drew it back.

Brutus felt someone tapping him on his back. When he turned around to see
who it was, he found himself nose-to-beak with a young rooster wearing a dark
poncho-like tunic with a cross-bow slung across his back and over one shoulder
and a quiver of bolts hanging from his belt. "Yes?" He asked. This
was all that he had time to say before his world suddenly went black.

Brutus had no idea how long he'd been laying in the grass when his eyes
finally opened. Overhead a pair of young children, both rabbits, were on their
haunches looking down at him. One, a female with a crudely made doll, asked the
other, a male with eyes both sad and wise beyond his years, "D'ya think
he's asleep?"

"No, Cynthia." The male answered. "His eyes are open
now."

Cynthia took a closer look and her eyes widened with curiosity. "Are
you alright, Mister Bear?" She asked.

A small crowd was now gathering around them and a ferret and a weasel had to
jostle their way through them to reach Brutus.

"Let us through! Let us through!" The ferret ordered. The two
rabbits made room for the two newcomers, but stayed by the bear's side.

"Brutus, are you awake?" The ferret asked, his voice heavy with
concern.

Brutus shook his head and blinked when he heard the familiar voice. "I
think so." He groaned weakly. "What happened?"

"Do you remember a rooster we tossed into a mudpit last Summer?"
The weasel asked.

Brutus closed his eyes and dredged his memories. Hadn't he heard something
about that solong ago? He opened his eyes again. "Vaguely." He
mumbled.

"Well, your past just caught up with you. That was him." The
weasel said.

Brutus lifted his head. A short distance away, the rooster stood rubbing the
circulation back into his wing and staring impassively at him.

"D'you want we should take him into custody?" The weasel asked.

Brutus lifted himself to a sitting position and felt a tug on his cloak. It
was the little girl-rabbit, Cynthia.

"You're not gonna 'rest Jeremy are you, Mister Bear?" She asked,
her eyes welling with tears. "He's jus' mad because the King burned 'im
when he tried to help Timothy after he set Doctor Ages house on fire!"

Brutus bowed his head. Justin had told him about Sullivan's; and by extent,
Jenner's; attempt to kill Justin, Dr. Ages and the Brisbee family. And now here
he was face-to-face with one of the intended victims of that horrific crime, an
innocent child whose only crime was being adopted by the King's Chancellor.
Brutus could feel tears of his own, tears of guilt, misting his eyes. He gently
put a brawny arm around the child and drew her closer. "Don't worry,
little one. I understand. No one will touch your friend." He assured her.
He then raised his voice a bit. "Right boys?" He asked sternly.

The ferret and weasel looked at each other, not quite sure what to make of
Brutus's suddenlyodd behavior. "Uh, sure, Boss!" The ferret answered
nervously.

Brutus tnen got to his feet and dismissed them. The children were awe-struck
by his size. "And what's your name, son?" He asked the boy-rabbit.

"That's Timothy! He's my little brother!" Cynthia exclaimed
happily. "I'm Cynthia! Cynthia Brisbee! That ferret called you 'Brutus'.
Is that really your name?"

Brutus nodded. "That's what my former Deputies call me when I'm
off-duty, little one. But you can still call me 'Mister Bear' if you
like."

Cynthia nodded back.

Sensing that this was a good time to leave, Timothy grabbed his sister's paw
and began to lead her toward the manor-house, where Justin was heading
with the hand-cart. "C'mon, Cynthia!" He exclaimed. "Let's go
an' look at our new home!"

Cynthia waved a reluctant and affectionate goodbye to Brutus. "G'bye
Mister Bear!" She cried.

Brutus felt a tear roll down the fur of his cheek as he returned her wave.
"Good-bye little one." He said in a choked whisper, now understanding
completely why he had been willing to give up so much to fight for Justin's
cause.

A short while later, after he had put the hand-cart away and settled the
Brisbees, Jeremy, Dr. Ages and the others into their quarters, Justin gathered
Galen, Brutus, Ages and Stabb into the office that Galen had prepared for him.
Galen apprised Justin of his wish to be relieved of second-in-command status
for the sake of his wife's needs and instead offered his services as an advisor
on military and training matters. Justin reluctantly agreed to his brother's
request andhanded the job to Brutus. (Stabb had offered his services at their first
meal together at Justin's adoptive home and the fox had happily accepted.) They
also suggested that a "town meeting" be held to elect representatives
for the various interests of the quickly-growing community. Justin readily
agreed to this proposal and added that he would also put the issue of his
leadership of the effort to dethrone Jenner up for a referendum as well.
"After all," He pointed out, "It would be foolish for them to
try toppling one tyrant while following another."

They then turned their attention to the letter that Declan had given him.
Justin and his travelling companions had found the young hare sitting on a
rock and crying by the side of the road. After some gentle persuasion he had
told them of his capture and release by the new Sheriff that morning and of his
fear of his expected punishment at the paws of his father.Justin had told him
that, while disobedience toward one's parents WAS a serious affair, he was
relatively unharmed and his father would no doubt be too relieved that his son
was all right to dispense anything too painful. This seemed to calm the hare,
who introduced himself. When Justin had introduced himself and his companions,
an astonished Declan had dug the note that the new Sheriff had given him out of
a pocket of his badly ripped tunic.

At first, Justin had been more than a little surprised and angry when he'd
found out that his former colleague was Nottinghamshire's new chief law
enforcement official; noting dirisively that a conspirator to murder and arson
could hardly be expected to competently, let alone fairly, administer anything
even remotely resembling justice. Dr. Ages, ever the practical soul, pointed
out that sooner or later Sullivan's lack of competence would probably make
Justin's job just that much easier. Justin found this a dubious assumption, but
decided not to argue the point.

He read the letter aloud:

"To the townfolk of Nottingham,

By order of His Majesty, King Jenner, I have been
duly appointed and sworn to the Office of Sheriff of this Shire. I wish to
reassure everyone that if you return immediately to your homes you will be made
welcome and not harmed or disturbed in any way."

("Okay, that's the carrot."Justin thought to himself. "Now,
Sullivan, where's your inevitable stick?")

"Failure to return to your homes will result
in a declaration of "Abandonment of Property". Such a declaration
will result in confiscation of all lands and properties thereon. Please send a
representative to negotiate at your earliest convenience."

"Who does he think he's kidding?" Justin exploded, shaking his
head in amazement and anger. "Any comments?" He asked once he'd
calmed himself down enough to speak.

"Bloody arrogant if you ask me!" Brutus exclaimed angrily.
"That implied threat of confiscation is as empty as his head! Jenner's
already made it clear that he plans to seize everyone's property!"

The others nodded their assent.

"The 'negotiation' angle is an interesting touch." Stabb said.
"In the little time I spent under him, Captain Sullivan never struck me as
the negotiating type."

"He isn't!" Justin stated, his voice firm. "He doesn't have
Jenner's subtleties when it comes to manipulations and machinations, so I can
pretty much guarantee that anyone we might send to him will end up on a one-way
trip to the gallows as an example to the rest of us!"

Again the others nodded.

"So we ignore the note?" Galen asked.

"That would be a mistake." Ages said.

"Oh?" Asked Justin. "In what way?"

Ages motioned for the others to follow him as he limped out of the cramped
office and into the main hall. A dull roar of activity surrounded them as
families and individuals went about various tasks. "During the time that
we're fighting this war, because you all know that that's EXACTLY what this is,
none of you must ever forget that this," He swept his paw around the room,
"Is what we're fighting for. These animals are here because they've placed
their trust AND their lives in our paws and we owe them nothing less than our
own blood and possibly our lives to see that they don't end up as slaves in
their own land."

"We know this already!" Justin said.

"Do you?" Ages asked, skepticism dripping from his voice.
"Are you so sure of your cause that you're willing to throw away an option
outright simply because of your anger at the one who has proposed it? I don't
dispute that Sullivan isn't to be trusted. But in addition to what I mentioned
before, we owe these animals the opportunity to make their own decisions about
the course of their lives; something which, I would remind you, Jenner is quite
happy to deny them."

Justin conceded the logic of Ages observation. "But how do we meet him
without endangering our own safety?" He asked.

"We could call a 'truce and parley'." Galen suggested. "He
and a few of his Deputies meet with some of us at a place of our
choosing."

Stabb chuckled dirisively. "You are a hopeless optimist, aren't
you?" He asked. Then, in all seriousness he said, "Our backs are
pretty much against a wall no matter what we do. Given a choice; my gut tells
me that the less contact we have with the Sheriff, the better. But we DO need
to find out as much as we can about his plans." To Justin he said,
"Let me go an' talk to him. If anything bad happens, we can chalk it up to
experience and make a more cautious play the next time around."

Justin shook his head. "No way am I gonna send you or anyone else on
any suicide missions." He said sternly. "We may have to take a lot of
risks in this endeavor but needless, empty sacrifice is out of the question!"
Justin turned angrily away and walked back to his office.

"Okay! Okay! Maybe that's not one of my better ideas!" Stabb said
as he followed the others, a touch of embarrassment in his voice.

Justin reseated himself and began to rub at his tired eyes. "Don't
worry, Mr.Stabb. I'm not angry at you; at least not specifically." He said
wearily. "I'm angry that I have so little control over this situation and
so few options for rectifying it. Your offer simply served to remind me of that.
If you feel that you can talk to Sullivan, then put together some sort of
workable plan and have it ready to present to me after the meeting
tomorrow." To Galen, Brutus and Ages he said, "Spread the word to
everyone who's come to join me that we're going to have the 'town meeting' that
you've suggested starting mid-morning to discuss both the exact nature and the
future of this...this..."

"War." Dr. Ages stated flatly.

Justin nodded reluctantly. "I suppose I've been loathe to admit to
myself that that's what this has come down to; But the good Doctor is right.
We're at war."

Elsewhere in the manor-house, Mrs. Brisbee knocked at the door of Galen and
Linnette Talbot's rooms.

"Come in." Linnette called.

Mrs. Brisbee opened the door and stepped in. "Mrs. Talbot?" She
asked.

"Yes. And you must be Mrs. Brisbee." The older vixen said, a smile
coming to her face. "Justin's told us so much about you and your late
husband. Would you like to sit down?" She indicated a spot on the couch
next to where she herself sat.

"Yes, thank you." Mrs. Brisbee said softly, trying to hide the
nervousness in her voice. Justin had given her specific instructions that his
sister was to be treated like anyone else and not some fragile flower that
might wilt at the merest touch. She took a seat next to Justin's adoptive
sister and decided to break the bad news as gently and diplomatically as
possible and hope for the best. "I realize that it's not my place to come
in here and..." She began.

"You're more than welcome to run the manor-house." Linnette said
reassuringly. "I had no problem doing so when there were only a few
families to watch over, so to speak, but now I must admit that the job has gone
somewhat beyond my capabilities. And after all, who better than a trained
professional to take over where this amateur left off?" She explained.

Mrs. Brisbee, somewhat nonplused by Justin's sister's concession, said,
"Are you sure? The last thing I want to do is make you feel unwelcome in
your own home."

Linnette smiled again, but Mrs. Brisbee thought that she could detect a
certain sadness in the other vixen's unseeing eyes. "Yes, Mrs. Brisbee,
I'm quite sure. This manor-house is only a temporary residence until Jenner is
overthrown and Galen and I are free to move back to our cottage on the
Heath." She said.

Mrs. Brisbee nodded and took one of Linnette's paws into her own.
"Thank you, Mrs. Talbot." She said in a half-whisper. "I'm sure
that you'll be able to go back to your home soon." Her voice then returned
to normal volume. "In the meantime I happen to have a position open for an
experienced Assistant Household Administrator, if you're interested."

Linnette's face brightened. "Okay, but only if we can drop all that
'Mrs.' stuff. It's WAY too formal for my tastes. Call me 'Linney'!"She
exclaimed.

Mrs. Brisbee giggled. "You're right, it is." She said. "My
name is Marian."

A few minutes later, as they were discussing plans for how best to run the
manor-house, Justin and Galen passed by the door to the Talbot's rooms and
stopped for a moment to listen to the school-girlish chatter and laughter
audible from the other side.

"Sounds like Linney and Marian have worked things out amicably
enough." Justin said, a hint of relief in his voice.

Galen smiled and nodded. "See? I could've told you they'd make a great
pair." He stated confidently.

Justin returned the smile with one of his own. "If those two can keep
this house running smoothly," He declared. "We should have no
problems winning this thing."

Unfortunately, Justin couldn't have known just how wrong he would be.