Chapter Fifty-Eight

The line of animals proceeded along the narrow forest path as the chill
early-morning air enveloped them; the occasional falling snowflake sticking to
fur, clothing or ground, only to melt into oblivion seconds later. In the lead
was a quiet and subdued Justin. In the nursery the night before, little Timothy
had awakened; crying and in a cold sweat. A concerned Lady Kluck had fetched
him, Mrs. Brisbee and Dr. Ages, afraid that the child had caught another bout
of pneumonia. Ages had quickly examined the young rabbit and pronounced him to
be quite healthy. But what had awakened his nephew was another one of those
awful prophetic nightmares. When asked to describe it, Timothy told them that
he'd been dreaming of someone, a young female wolf, who was running from the
half-lion, half-fox demon-creature who; until now at least, had pretty much
faded from memory. He'd told them that while she was in some danger from the
demon-creature, it was three males; though Timothy could not tell what their
exact relation to her was; who were in more immediate peril. Justin could only
shrug helplessly, telling Timothy that he had an idea of who fit this
particular description, but that he had no way of rendering aid to them at that
particular moment. The rabbit had nodded his understanding, a sadness in his
tired eyes. He'd then asked if he might be allowed to speak privately to his
Uncle. With a collective odd look; his mother, Ages and Kluck had excused
themselves, leaving them to talk by the dim light of a small lamp, surrounded
only by the sound of soft breathing or snoring of other sleeping children.

"I'm listening." Justin had said.

A strange, haunted look had now come to his nephew's face; making his eyes
seem even sadder, if such a thing were possible. "I dreamt that someone,
someone very close to you, is going to die." The rabbit had said very
matter-of-factly. "I don't know who or when," He'd continued,
"But the spirits have chosen to bring the soul of one of us to their
realm."

Justin had been quite taken aback by this pronouncement from such a young
child. While he'd grown more than a little skeptical over the years since his
childhood when it came to his beliefs about the spirit world and affairs of the
supernatural, Timothy's prediction of the fire and their narrow escape from Dr.
Ages house had served to cast a shadow of doubt on the certainty of that
skepticism. And now to have his younger nephew tell him that one of their
number, and a close acquaintance at that, was somehow predestined to die and
there was nothing that could be done to alter upcoming events, it was as if all
of the strengths that had been serving him so well up until now; his leadership
abilities, his training, his will to see Justice prevail and his vulpine
survival instinct (the "wiliness" for which his species was so well
known and admired); were being mocked by a force over which he had no control.
And it both bothered and scared the hell out of him. Needless to say he'd
gotten very little sleep that night; especially since he'd had to awaken long
before dawn to start this journey if he, Ezekiel Stabb, Liam Wyclyffe, Brutus,
Dr. Ages and Galen Talbot were to make it to the Heath in time to make the
necessary preparations for their meeting with Sullivan.

A few paces to his rear, Stabb and Wyclyffe were comparing notes on their
first day of training their respective charges.

"Your boy certainly makes up in enthusiasm what he lacks in
discipline." Stabb told the hare matter-of-factly.

Liam shrugged. "I think he gets it from my side of the family." He
confessed, a mixture of pride and embarrassment in his voice. "We
Wyclyffe's tend to be a querelous lot."

"So I've heard." Stabb chuckled with amusement. His voice then
became slightly more serious. "He seems to have all of the physical
qualifications for being a soldier; excellent reflexes, sharp eyes an' the
like; but he doesn't seem to understand the concept that a soldier depends on
his Troop, and vice-versa, to fight and survive. He seems to have this notion
in his head that, with a little bit of help from the Nottingham Organization,
he'll be the one to save Britain from the clutches of her evil
Tyrant-King."

The hare shook his head in resignation. "I'm afraid he's always been
like that." He said. "All through his childhood, all he ever talked
about was someday becomin' a Soldier 'r a Deputy...'r even a Sheriff..."

"He can HAVE the job; that is, if he can talk the present occupant out
of it!" Brutus commented caustically from his place further back in line.

"And what of Martin?" Justin asked quietly, not looking back.

"A fine young lad." The weasel stated. "Does what he's told,
when he's told to do it, without the slightest hesitation or complaint. I don't
yet know how much of the Warrior is in 'im, but he seems motivated
enough."

There was an uneasy silence while they waited for Justin to answer or
comment. But when none was forthcoming, Stabb asked Liam, "An' how'd your first
full day of training go, Sergeant-Major?"

Liam shrugged. "About as well as I could have expected." He
answered, his voice hardening a bit. "I did have a small dust-up with one
of the Waning-Crescent weasels, but I think my charges'll stay in line from now
on."

"I KNOW they will!" The bear once again interjected. "Ol'
Wilbur reamed that poor kid out, but good, last night! Made it clear that if
any other member of their clan does something that stupid again, he'll
personally prosecute them at any Council meeting convened to decide
punishment!"

"Miss Kilcannon," The hare continued, "Joined my Troop
yesterday morning too."

At this, Stabb's ears pricked up with interest.

"Like you said about Martin: Does what she's told, when she's told to
do it; without hesitation 'r complaint. Whether 'r not she's got the Warrior
spirit in her as well, only time an' training'll determine." He stated
matter-of-factly.

At this; Justin raised his right paw in a fist, signalling the others to
stop. As soon as Dr. Ages and Galen, who had been lagging a bit behind the main
group due to the effect of the cold weather on Ages
now-healed-but-still-sensitive leg, caught up, Justin gathered them in a
huddle. To Stabb and Liam he said, "Remember, Sullivan's NOT one to play
by the rules, especially if they were made by someone other than him! So your
job is to find whoever he plans to have kill the rest of us and neutralize
them. Clear?"

The weasel and the hare looked at each other for the briefest moment and
nodded. Seconds later, they'd silently disappeared in opposite directions into
the Forest.

Justin, Brutus, Galen and Ages now proceeded; also silently; toward their
destination.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

It was just before mid-morning when they arrived at the Heath. The
now-deserted Talbot cottage stood dark and forlorn among the moss-covered trees
and the ground-clutter of dead leaves and fallen branches. While Justin and
Brutus did a quick patrol of the immediate area, Galen stared longingly and
sadly at what had once been the home that he'd shared with his loving wife; but
had been forced to abandon, however temporarily, by the circumstances that were
to be played out in this very place just a few moments from now.

"Don't worry, brother, you and Linney will be able to move back here
someday; that's a promise!" Justin said as he came to stand side-by-side
with the older fox.

"I certainly hope so." Galen sighed. "Not that we don't
appreciate the hospitality that you've shown us so far," He continued, his
tone becoming more acid, "But Linney and I had plans for our sunset years,
and living in what amounts to a tent-city with no privacy sure as hell wasn't
among them."

Dr. Ages, who was now seated on a log in front of a small fire gingerly
massaging his sore knee, emphaticallly nodded his agreement. "You'll get
no argument from me on that issue. I haven't had a truely private moment since
Sullivan burned down my own home and left me with this permanent
reminder." He said, indicating the deep and ugly pinkish-gray scar that
stood well out from the surrounding white fur.

Just then a distant rustling of leaves, quite distinct from the crackling of
the wood being consumed in the fire, alerted the group that the moment of truth
was close at paw. They quickly and quietly gathered to one side of the fire,
their backs to the cottage.

Three figures emerged from the gray half-darkness of the surrounding forest
and stopped barely a stones-throw away. In the lead, of course, was Sullivan. A
step back and to either side were his Deputies. One, a young lynx, wore a small
bandage on one ear. The other was a raccoon, though apparently not related to
any of the peasants that Justin had rescued from the whip of that boar those
many months ago, the fox noted with a certain amount of regret. If this
degenerated into a fight (and ANYTHING could go wrong in the next few minutes,
he knew), one or several of either group; innocent or not; were certain to end
up as corpses.

The Sheriff of Nottingham regarded them with a look that could have been
interpreted as anything from simple anger to pure astonishment.
"YOU!" He finally managed to sneer as he pointed an incriminating
finger at his one-time "colleague". "I should've known you're
the one behind all this 'Power to the Peasants!' crap!"

Justin's eyes narrowed as a slight smile came to his lips. "Still
blaming your problems on me; eh, Sullivan?" He asked bitterly. Then, to
Ages, he said, "At least we know that SOME things will never change."
In disgust, Ages nodded his agreement.

With a dismissive wave of his paw, Sullivan brushed off Justin's insult.
"The words of a traitor and criminal have no meaning to me or to King
Jenner. I would remind you that a reward is still on your head." He
stated, pointing at the fox. He then levelled his stern gaze at Dr. Ages.
"And you, Quack, are still wanted for conspiracy in connection with the
murder of his late Majesty, King Nicodemus, and planning to murder our present
King..."

"I'm not even going to dignify THAT particular charge!" Ages
snapped back, not bothering to pause in his efforts to keep his knee warm.

The wolf shot the old badger a dirty look, which was ignored, and set his
sights on the previous holder of the office he now occupied.
"Brutus!" He said, his voice now a plea. "Why have you done this
to yourself? You could have had so much! Jenner was gonna give you money and
land...!"

"And what could the animals of Nottingham expect in return?" The
bear retorted angrily. "Slavery? Poverty? Starvation? A lifetime of
back-breaking labor with nothing to show for it while Jenner and his friends
become richer and more corrupt, if that's even possible?" Brutus
vehemently shook his head. "I should have stopped this nightmare the
moment I realized what Jenner was up to! Well DAMN my hide for being so greedy
and not doing so, and damn YOURS for carrying on this pathetic charade!"
He shouted. "At least I have the guts to admit MY error and try to set it
right! Can YOU say the same?"

But Sullivan had lost all interest in Brutus and was now sizing up Galen.
"An' what about you, Old-timer? Why's a decent farmer like you associating
with treasonous scum like this?" He asked, shaking his head; his voice
taking a tone of something vaguely resembling sympathy.

The elder fox returned the wolf's narrow-eyed gaze with one of his own,
drawing himself to his full height. "Justin is my brother-in-law." He
said, the usual gentleness of his voice now gone; replaced by a tone of deep
anger at this idiot's arrogance. "And, quite frankly, I'm proud to stand
with him in his efforts to oppose you and Jenner and what you both
represent."

"Ah, so you're the owner of this lovely home!" Sullivan suddenly
commented, nodding his understanding. "I'm also told that you're
influential with most of the other local farmers!" He said. He then
pointed past them toward the cottage. "What if I told you that you and
your fair wife could move back into it without fear of confiscation under His
Majesty's Repossession Decree? I can talk him into making an exception in your
case, but you gotta show me some good faith by talkin' the rest of the animals
of Nottingham out of ruining their lives because of some fool's half-baked
idealism and into returning to their homes." He said enthusiastically.

Galen rolled his eyes in exasperation. To Justin he said, with ill-concealed
contempt, "I can see why you loathe this moron so much! Had he been a
member of my Regiment, he'd have spent his career digging latrines!" He
then turned his attention to Sullivan. "To listen to the likes of you
insult both my brother AND my intelligence goes well beyond stupidity and into
the realm of absurdity!" He told the Sheriff without heed to the anger and
disbelief that were now on the wolf's face. "While it's true that I very
much want to resume the life that my wife and I were so happily living, before
you and your King so rudely and brutally deprived us of that particular
pleasure; the price, the betrayal that you demand, is more than my conscience
or my very Soul are willing to bear! I cannot, I will not, use whatever
influence you may believe me to possess to deceive my neighbors!" He
declared.

"Then so be it! Consider yourselves under arrest! The charge is Treason
to the Crown!" Sullivan angrily told his one-time
colleague-turned-adversary. He then yelled, seemingly to no one in particular,
"Blackjack, fire!" After a few seconds, during which the Sheriff and
his Deputies began glancing nervously about, the door to the cottage burst open
and out marched an almost jet-black ferret, wrists tied in front of him, immediately
followed by Ezekiel Stabb, who casually shouldered (if a weasel could be said
to shoulder anything) a bow, a quiver of arrows and four sheathed swords.

Justin sadly and knowingly shook his head as the weasel gave his reluctant
captive a shove in the direction of his nonplussed colleagues. "Saw 'im in
the lower branches of a nearby tree. It was quite a trick sneakin' up an'
takin' 'im without makin' a peep." Stabb said breezily.

Sullivan glared disgustedly at the ferret, who shrugged with embarrassment,
for a few moments, then asked Stabb, "And you've decided to turn Traitor
as well, I suppose?"

The weasel's eyes narrowed as a strange, sardonic smile crept onto his face.
"That's a laugh; comin' from the likes of a liar, arsonist an' murderer
like you. I prefer to think of myself as a convert to a somewhat more
enlightened cause." He said.

"Be that as it may," Sullivan said with growing irritation,
"You're all in a heap o' trouble as of now. If you'll come along
peaceably, I can promise all of you fair trials an' fine hangin's..."

"Really?" Justin asked as a bemused smile appeared on his face,
although his eyes remained tense and alert. "Fortunately; or
unfortunately, depending on one's point of view; I'm well aquatinted with your
idea of "fair" and I believe that my friends here will agree with me
when I say that we want no part of whatever plans you and Jenner have for
Nottinghamshire. I've informed them that their new Sheriff is not to be trusted
under any circumstances, as evidenced by your unwillingness to play by the
rules and obey the simple condition that Lady Kluck gave you. So, as a
"fair" warning to you and your so-called "Deputies", I'd
advise you not to venture too far from the towns or villages because from this
day forward Sherwood Forest belongs to those of us who will no longer tolerate
what's being done to Britain." He said.

"Is that a threat?" Sullivan demanded, his face contorting into an
angry sneer.

"You can take it any way you want." Justin told him impassively.
"But from now on, the Nottingham Organization is the sworn enemy of
Jenner, his friends and those who serve them." With that, the fox motioned
to his friends and began determinedly walking toward the path by which they had
come. Silently Brutus, Galen and Ages; who had by now doused the fire and
scattered the dead ash with the tip of his crutch; followed.

"You're making a serious mistake!" Sullivan yelled after them with
what might have been a hint of desperation in his voice. "This isn't a
battle that you can win!"

Justin stopped, seemed to hesitate a few moments, then turned to face the
wolf. "I don't doubt that we'll lose a battle or two along the way,"
He said, his voice sad and tired. "But we'll eventually win this war
because you and Jenner have made it abundantly clear that we have nothing to
lose by fighting it." He again turned and headed for the path.

Stabb stood guard for several minutes, until the rest of the group had
disappeared into the forest, then began moving away to join them.

"Hey!" The wolf shouted. There was almost a tone of petulance in
his voice. "What about my weapons?"

The weasel stopped, turned around, drew the most elaborately decorated sword
from it's equally elaborate scabbard, and began making a show of inspecting it.
"Sorry, Sheriff," He taunted a few moments later. "But our
'smith's a bit short of scrap at the moment. He'll appreciate your
contribution, though." With that the weasel rendered a mocking salute,
resheathed the blade, and began jogging away.

Chapter Sixty

"DAMN, YOU IDIOT! HOW COULD YOU BE SO INCOMPETENT?" Sullivan
screamed as Deputy Sillus gnawed at the rope that bound Blackjack's wrists.

"It's not MY fault, Boss!" The ferret retorted in anger and
embarrassment. "That weasel's as good as anyone I've EVER seen! Hell,
isn't that why you an' the King hired 'im in the first place?" He asked.

Sullivan waved a dismissive paw. "Yeah, yeah. But how were we supposed
to know that he'd turn on us an' join the enemy?" He asked rhetorically.
Just then, with an audible snap, the rope around Blackjack's wrists broke and
the binding fell to the ground. The wolf then wordlessly stomped off toward the
path leading to Nottingham; the others quietly trailing a safe distance behind,
not daring to disturb whatever dark thoughts of revenge their superior was
probably contemplating against the former residents of the town and a certain
former Captain-of-the-Guard.

At about the same time, in another part of the forest, Liam Wyclyffe
rejoined his comrades as they hiked back toward their headquarters. "Any
of them attempting to follow us?" Justin asked.

"Not that I could see." The hare replied. "They were all
headed back for town, last I left 'em."

"Sullivan may be a lazy coward, but he's NOT stupid." Observed
Justin. "He won't risk his skin unless he knows the odds of success are
stacked squarely in his favor. On the other side of that coin is the fact that;
even with you," He nodded toward Brutus. "Your former Deputies,"
He then indicated Liam. "And a few gracious volunteers;" He nodded at
Stabb. "We have precious few options for defending the Estate when
Sullivan's attack comes, and I speak with utmost confidence and from no small
amount of experience when I say that an attack WILL come. The problem is that I
have no way of predicting WHEN it will come." He added glumly.

"What about your nephew, Timothy?" Stabb asked. "After all,
he did predict that fire and our coming to help you."

"No." Justin said with an emphatic shake of his head. "His
'gift' may be useful to us in its own way at times, but I'd be a fool to stake
our success in this venture solely on that basis."

"It's gonna take a while to train enough troops to make the Estate
truely defensible." Liam observed. "After all, we've only just
started training in earnest and it'll be at least another couple weeks until
any of the recruits are ready for actual weapons training."

Justin gave a resigned shrug. "We'll simply have to step up the
night-watches and accelerate the training schedules as best we can. I know it's
a hardship, especially to those with families, but we have to be ready for
anything that Sullivan might be planning to throw at us." He said grimly.

"I suppose I could re-write the training schedule," Galen offered.
"Make weapons training a higher priority."

"An' I can always reschedule the watches." Brutus said to Liam.
"That'll take some of the burden off those with training
assignments."

"Thanks,"Said Liam. "That'll help a lot."

The rest of the long walk to the Locksley Estate was made in thoughtful
silence; other than the tap of Dr. Ages crutch against the hard, cold ground;
as each pondered the implications, for better or worse, of what they had just
been a party to.

It was near-dusk by the time they stepped out of the now-rather-oppressive
gray cloak of the forest that would be their only sanctuary for
who-knew-how-long. To the West, a half-orb of Sun reflected its waning
yellow-orange-pink off of an approaching line of cumulus and cirrus clouds that
was growing along the tree-combed horizon. To the East, the darkness was
pierced by the light of the first evening stars. In the cleared portion of the
Estate enclosing the manor-house and its surrounding tent-city a small group of
animals, mostly children, was gathered in a circle watching and applauding Will
Scarlett; who was entertaining them with an impromptu acrobatics display.

While Liam and Galen stayed to watch the last few minutes of the
performance; Brutus, Ages and Stabb went to see what was for dinner. Justin
made straight for his office, where he found Mrs. Brisbee waiting.

"How did the meeting go?" She asked, though her expression told
him that the question was purely rhetorical.

"'Meeting' is hardly the word I'd use, Marian." He said as he sank
wearily into his chair. "'Confrontation' would be a far more accurate
assessment of our encounter." He then closed his eyes and began gently
rubbing the fur around their sockets. "Hell, I may as well have been
screaming at one of these walls for all the good it did us! Sullivan wasn't
exactly receptive to anything that I had to say." He growled sharply.

"Then why bother to go at all? Why not have just stuck a knife with an
ultimatum or a list of demands attached to it into his front door in the dead
of night?" She asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Justin hauled himself out of his chair and began pacing restlessly. "A
knife in the door would have told him that someone was unhappy with the current
situation, but he wouldn't necessarily have taken it seriously. In Sullivan's,
and by extension Jenner's, mind a few rebellious peasants are nothing more than
a minor irritant to be ignored, avoided, or bought off if possible or; if they
get too out-of-control; destroyed. Forgive me for sounding self-important, but
my showing up changes that. Now he knows that he's up against more than just a
bunch of dirt-poor, uneducated and untrained farmers and villagers." He
said pointedly.

Mrs. Brisbee cocked her head questioningly to one side. "I'm no
soldier, so I probably don't have your grasp of Military tactics and strategy;
but haven't you sacrificed whatever element of surprise we may have had against
him by revealing yourself as Leader?" She asked.

"Probably." Justin replied. He then stopped his pacing as a sly
half-smile crept across his face. "But I also know that he has to report
our 'conversation', such as it was, to Jenner. And I'd also be willing to wager
a cart-full of Crowns that he's shaking in his fur at the thought of having to
inform His Infernal Majesty that his late, unlamented brother's
ex-Captain-of-the-Guard is leading what could become a serious challenge to his
already shaky rule. That alone may be worth whatever surprise has been
lost." He said.

The vixen's brow furrowed with skepticism but she simply shrugged. "If
you say so." She said, her tone distant.

Justin went to her and, kneeling down in front of her, took her paws in his
own and gazed into her eyes; the look in them as distant as her voice had been.
"Marian," He said. "I realize that I've taken a huge risk today.
Everyone here has taken a huge risk with their own lives and those of their
families. And while I'd be an idiot if I tried to lie to you and tell you
outright that everything was going to be okay, I have to believe that we can
win this fight. But, like it or not, in order to win I'm probably going to have
to take many more like the one I did today. On occasion I'm going to be forced
to trade one percieved advantage for another, hoping that I haven't needlessly
traded innocent lives in the process."

For several seconds Mrs. Brisbee sat unmoving, staring into space as if in a
trance.

"Marian?" Justin asked worriedly, reaching up to gently stroke the
fur of one side of her face with the back of his fingers.

Mrs. Brisbee blinked and jumped in her seat a bit, as if startled.
"I'm-I'm sorry." She apologized softly, a bit embarrassed.

Justin smiled. "No problem. It's not as if I got a full night's sleep
either." He said sympathetically. At that moment there came a knock at the
door. "It's open." Justin called out. Gwynnyth Wyclyffe peeked inside.

"Mama sent me to tell you that dinner's ready." The young hare;
who had obviously been working in the kitchen, as could be seen from the food
stains on her dress and apron; informed them breathlessly.

"We'll be down in a moment." Justin told her.

The child nodded and quickly left, closing the door behind her.

"Tell you what," Justin said as he stood and helped Mrs. Brisbee
from her seat, "Why don't we just call it a day right after dinner? You
know, just eat and go straight to bed. How does that sound?" He asked.

"Sounds great." Admitted Mrs. Brisbee, "But I've got to
supervise the clean-up..."

"Let someone else do it." Justin said.

"But it's my job." She said.

"Why not let Linney supervise for once?" He asked. "After
all, that's what assistants are for. One of the things that they taught me in
Officer training was: 'Know when to delegate responsibilities'." He said.

Mrs. Brisbee thought hard for a few moments, but finally nodded her assent.
"Okay," She said, "I guess I can ask her. And I'll have Klucky
see that the children are put to bed."

"Great!" Justin exclaimed, his enthusiasm momentarily overcoming
his fatigue. He waved an inviting paw toward the door. "Would Madam do me
the honor of accompanying me to dinner?" He asked, his eyes sparkling with
a merriment they hadn't shown for far too long.

Mrs. Brisbee smiled, genuinely happy for the first time in many weeks.
"It would be my pleasure!" She exclaimed, taking his arm in hers.