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A light but persistent rain had settled in over River Keep early in the morning. Nearly everyone with the misfortune of being outside was soaked completely through to the skin of their pelts. Airy, standing outside on the battlements next to one of Jorveth's converted catapults, was a notably dry exception thanks to a large oilcloth that covered the space around the war machine, though the protective cover had not been erected for her. Its sole purpose was to keep the artillery bombs dry. Packed in crates filled with straw, the precious explosives were more important than the queen's comfort.

Sulky despite the shelter, Airy's preeminent complaint was being forced to spend the looming battle safe behind walls and far from the real fighting. She had grudgingly yielded to the heartfelt and logical pleadings of her senior officers, advisors, and most of all to Jak. Arguing correctly that any benefit of her presence on the battlefield would be more than offset by the distraction it would cause her Rabbit officers and soldiers who would be constantly trying to protect her; while to the Wolves, that constituted the bulk of her forces, she was but an abstraction, not a recognizable leader to follow and from whom to take courage. That was Jak's role.

Only yielding because victory was too important to compromise, Airy knew that today was the true test of her army. Success relied on a swift and decisive battle. Failure doomed any chance she had of obtaining her throne. She was not so impetuous that she would risk everything just to satisfy her own vanity and lust for glory. Outnumbered and inexperienced, her forces had enough handicaps already. A few tricks she had planned to spring on the enemy should put the odds greatly in her favor, but the ultimate outcome would be decided by discipline and leadership on the field. The urge to provide that leadership in person was tremendously tempting and denying herself left her so frustrated that she needed to execrate something, so she focused her ire on the weather.

Squinting into the southern distance along the main road revealed little. It was impossible to see more than a small fraction of the area where the battle would take place. The finely dispersed rain and mist made everything beyond a few hundred yards a gray nothing. She was blind and reliant upon others to lead. To coordinate their attacks, fast riders on horseback would have to be her eyes, and signal sounds her ears. It was an eminently dissatisfying situation. Airy cursed the weather under her breath while searching for ways to make it work to her advantage.

Despite her worry about the poor visibility and the threat to her artillery, the rain and low clouds were a blessing from the Maker. The alterations Jorveth had recommended to the wall mounted catapults would be obscured, and if seen, be less likely to arouse suspicion from an enemy who would be cold, wet, and dispirited when they arrived. Best of all, the foggy drizzle would provide additional cover for her troops hidden in the woods on either side of the open field where the enemy would have to deploy and assemble to organize their siege.

Nearly five thousand Wolves, approximately half archers and half a mix of spearmen and swordsmen were concealed in trenches covered with branches and vegetation for camouflage. Paths uncluttered by rocks and sundry forest litter had been fabricated between the trenches in the hopes that scouts investigating the area would take these easier routes and miss what she was attempting to hide. As an added measure to deflect interest in the woods, a feint would be made with her cavalry and a smaller battalion of five hundred Wolf spearmen Airy had retained inside the keep. They would challenge the arriving host in front of the castle's open gate giving the invaders a tempting opportunity to take the castle with minimal effort. It would, of course, not be that easy. Another five hundred Wolf archers supplemented by the garrison Rabbit crossbowmen who had shifted their allegiance to the queen gave her small army plenty of firepower on the wall to repel any force determined enough to attack the gate without proper siege support.

The trap that Airy and her generals had so meticulously planned was in place and ready. Airy needed only wait and watch as the game pieces moved themselves. The competence of her commanders and soldiers would determine the outcome, and that is precisely what bothered her most and fostered the crankiness that Vaunortheses sensed as he and Jorveth approached their discontented queen. The general was certain he knew the reason for her mood and bade Jorveth wait a moment so he could approach Airy alone.

"Your Majesty," he proclaimed respectfully with a smart salute.

Airy glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to the bleak landscape of the battlefield.

"Drop the formality, Vaun. I have no humor for it."

Vaun stood at ease.

"I can see that. You are pouting like a child. What kind of example does that set for the troops?"

Anger at his impudence triggered her to turn on him aggressively, but the realization that he was correct calmed her quickly enough. With a sigh, she turned back to lean against the battlements facing the gray morning. Vaun moved next to Airy, who gazed between the crenulations while the much taller buck peered over the top.

"I want to be out there as much as you do, Airy. All of the soldiers - Rabbits and Wolves - are my responsibility as much as they are yours. To lead them personally strongly tempts me."

Vaun sighed dramatically, mocking Airy's attitude and demeanor.

"But it seems I have been assigned kit-sitting duty instead."

Vaun braced himself for an angry response, but Airy refused the bait. Instead, she became thoughtful.

"Is that how others see me? Am I the spoiled princess pretending to be queen?"

Worried that he had inadvertently poked a sore spot in Airy's spirit with his jest, Vaun became more conciliatory.

"Not at all. Do not be absurd. You are every inch a proper queen of Rikifur and are entitled to that rank for more than your fortuitous order of birth. Your actions have already earned you the right to claim your title proudly. There is not a soul in the army who does not respect you for your bravery, perseverance, and leadership. When we are done, and this war is over, you will be hailed as the most illustrious monarch Rikifur has ever known."

Trusting Tigan and Camorra, Airy believed that her childhood friend and suitor was in love with her, and that made her wonder if his infatuation would make him more or less honest in her presence. Facing her old friend, Airy looked into his eyes to find the sincerity she hoped lay behind those words. Every leader faced the problem that her subordinates would only want to please her and bring her good news. Regardless of whether or not Vaun was in love with her, he was a subordinate. Of all the people in her coalition, only Jak was her equal, though Vaun occupied a special place separate from all the others.

When Airy and Vaun had been teens together, they were close confederates seeking fun and adventure in the royal home of her family. A bond of friendship had formed between them that she found comforting even on this miserable and tense day. It was important to her that he remain an honest friend and companion. To her relief, she found no hint of deception, only the honest compassion she sought.

"Thank you, Vaun. That means a lot to me. I admit to being proud, headstrong, impetuous, arrogant, and to numerous other personal faults. It is just as well that you and the others see me for who I am and kit-sit me as necessary to mitigate the consequences."

Though neither fully understood the other's intentions, there was more that Vaun wanted to say to Airy and her to him, but a pending battle was not the place or the time for a discussion of their past or future relationship. Vaun cleared his throat and spoke loudly so that the nearby artillerymen could hear him.

"My Queen, the scouts report contact with the most forward units of the enemy forces. They are but a mile out and will be here within the hour. The muddy roads are slowing their progress. As instructed, our roving cavalry have been harassing their advance units and fleeing when they are threatened. The enemy are bunching up and consolidating in response. It will dissuade them from exploring the flanks as thoroughly as they should."

"Excellent. Begin deployment of the troops from within the keep."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

With a crisp salute, the General retreated to disperse his orders. Left alone and ignored, Jorveth had become lost in his magic book, so Airy had to clear her throat loudly to attract his attention before beckoning the Horse to come stand beside her.

"Will the bombs still work in this Maker damned rain?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. The tarps and straw are keeping them dry. As long as the artillery troops follow the proper procedures, they will work."

"I'm concerned that we did not have sufficient time to train them."

"I have placed the best artillerymen where they can do the most good and have given them an extra share of the ammunition."

"Good thinking."

Airy placed her paw on one of the great wooden timbers that supported the long arm and counterweight of the curious machine.

"These new catapults are very strange. Will they work?"

"They are called trebuchets, Your Majesty. We tested them before we brought them over. They have nearly twice the range of normal catapults. Basically, they operate on the principle of leverage induced by the arc of a counter..."

"Thank you, Jorveth. I'll be satisfied with a live demonstration. The range advantage these will give us is crucial. The AR will set up their army just beyond where they know the original catapults could reach. They will be in for a surprise when they discover that they are too close."

Imagining the effect on the enemy of the pending barrage improved Airy's mood immensely by rudely shoving aside any thoughts of the miserable weather and her restricted role as a person to protect and shelter.

Jak huddled within a camouflaged blind close to the tree line where he observed the AR army emerging from the gloom. The enemy was tired and stumbling, exhausted from a long, quick march in less than ideal conditions. Despite being soaked through his own fur by the miserably cold rain, he was well fed and rested, as were all the warriors and soldiers under his command.

Jak was the commanding general for the western half of the ambush army. He shared the honor with Rhynnayth. It was an arrangement designed to mollify each race's desire to have one of their own in charge. Soon, he and the other leaders like Vaunortheses would have to wean their troops of the vestiges of their prejudices to create a truly integrated army, but for now, discipline, order, and instant obedience were what mattered.

The Eastern half of their forces were led by Bear and a Rabbit general named Milikes. Concerned that Bear might not yet be ready to lead such a large and unfamiliar arrangement of troops, Jak assigned Milikes as his shepherd. It was an excellent choice because the ebony hued Rabbit was the most tolerant and respectful Rabbit leader towards the Wolves, and because of the unexpected fast friendship that had developed between the two.

Rumors had long intimated that in Milikes' border province of Anthynth, there was a wide, shallow stretch of a tributary of the River Muur, where Rabbit kits and Wolf pups often secretly played together despite warnings and prohibitions from adults. Milikes was said to have frequented that forbidden playground as a kit and even as a young buck. Some even claimed he had hunted in the wilds north of the river with young Wolves as companions.

Whether such improbable tales were true or not, he had a knack for communicating with his former canine enemies and for earning their respect. His most endearing trait from the Wolves' perspective was his preference for fighting with infantry rather than cavalry, a rare affectation among the Rabbit nobility. Though he rode his horse into battle, he was as likely as not to be found within one of his own phalanxes instead of with the other knights.

Milikes' peculiarities and affinity for things canine did not compromise his competence as an officer. He understood the need for discipline on the battlefield and had an excellent mind for strategy. He was the balance Jak needed to temper Bear's wild rashness. The initial bombardment was critical, so Milikes' most important task was to restrain Bear and keep their army hidden until they heard the sound of the first explosion. After that, Bear's ferocious bravery would be a benefit to splinter their enemy's lines before they could recover from the artillery. Jak expected the huge Wolf to excel under those conditions.

Until then, Jak was constrained like his counterparts to wait. Tension gnawed at him. So many things could go wrong. Either his or Bear's armies might be discovered too soon. The enemy might set up out of artillery range. The ground assault after the artillery bombardment might fail. Contingencies and signals had been developed for each of these possible disasters to mitigate Jak's angst. Both halves of their armies had buglers to give voice to any signals that Jak, Bear, Rynnayth, or Milikes thought appropriate to sound.

By tradition, the buglers were bucks who were too young to begin training as soldiers or officers. Whether driven by eagerness to begin his military service or by pressure from his family, the Rabbit youth assigned to Jak could not have seen more than ten summers. He was a gangly, brown and white piebald patterned kit nearly two feet shorter than Jak with a set of front teeth too large for his small mouth. Despite his obvious unease with being in close proximity to Wolves, he remained steadfastly at Jak's side as ordered. Clutching his horn as if it were a magic talisman that kept him safe, he trembled and chewed nervously at his lower lip. Jak idly wondered who the kit feared more, White Paw and his warriors, or the approaching enemy.

Jak didn't blame him for his terror in either case. A battle was no place for one so young even if he wasn't expected to fight. Having kits in battle was a morally repugnant custom to Jak. The kit could be killed as easily as any soldier. Jak silently begged his ancestor spirits to watch over the lad. He even begged for Olivia's help as he wondered if she had the power to hear his thoughts. He vowed to keep the boy close to his side as he watched the first AR scouts enter the forest not far from his position.

In sight and assembling where she and her generals had predicted, Airy was pleased that her opponent did not yet suspect her trap. Expecting her to have but a few hundred troops and to keep them hidden behind the castle walls, the AR general eagerly took the bait she dangled in front of him. Her feigned attack using the same number of troops she had used to capture the keep was a deliberately reckless move, but it fit the perception of Airy's reputation as an audacious leader that she had earned during her time in command before her exile. The goal to make the AR commander comfortable with his assumptions and focused on the keep was proving successful, and it filled her with disdain for her easily duped opponent, who no doubt was so certain of his imminent overwhelming victory, that he could not imagine the alternative that surrounded him.

Fighting between their cavalry was intense but indecisive. As soon as the AR foot soldiers arrived, she ordered several archer volleys as she called her own troops to make a measured withdrawal. When her diversionary forces were all safely inside the walls and the enemy had retreated out of range of her archers, Airy anxiously waited for the last of the enemy stragglers to come into range of her trebuchets and within the jaws of her soon to be encircling army.

This was the most critical step of her plan. The longer she waited, the more likely the enemy would discover her hidden troops. Anxious minutes passed. The soggy gloom made it hard to see the full extent of the enemy's forces. Airy was on the verge of giving her assent to begin the bombardment anyway when a contingent of five horsemen under a white banner of truce broke away from the AR camp and rode towards the main gate.

"What's this?" wondered Airy aloud.

"A peace parley, My Queen," answered Vaunortheses stating the obvious.

"We don't have time for this. We need to start the attack now while they're still settling in and before they can erect defenses. They're already likely sending out scavengers to the forest for firewood and building supplies."

"But we must honor the conditions of white flag parley. It's tradition."

Airy fumed. She was intent on breaking many traditions but was indoctrinated in the honor of war well enough to be unable to live with herself if she broke this one. Though foolish seeming and inconvenient, honor and integrity paid great rewards in morale and loyalty.

"Send a party out there now. Their instructions are simple. We won't negotiate. The AR must agree to unconditional surrender. I want them to be rude and abrupt, and most of all keep it brief."

Maddening minutes crept by as her envoys were assembled before riding out with their own parley flag. More precious time passed delivering the enemy the unpleasant news and rough diplomacy. From Airy's perch, the AR negotiators' body language made it explicit that they were not happy with what they heard. Still, they argued for longer that Airy could tolerate until her soldiers stopped listening and abruptly returned to the castle. The enemy remained alone and confused for a minute or two before falling back towards their own distant line. Having satisfied the formalities and requirements of honor, Airy ordered the bombardment to begin.

"Why haven't they started?" asked Jak's nervous Rabbit bugler in a low, anxious whisper.

Whether he was talking to himself or to white Paw, Jak did not know. Nor did he respond. What could he say? He had no idea, he was worried, and he did not want to betray his deep concern to his troops. From his vantage point, he could see the AR army and just make out the walls of the castle. The rest of the keep was obscured in mist. Everything on the ground between the wall and the enemy was hidden by the activity of the AR army in front of him. He had seen and heard the initial diversionary battle, but once the bulk of the AR's forces arrived, that part of the battlefield became invisible to him.

Something felt wrong. Why was Airy waiting so long? Scouts and AR support forces were already moving into the edge of the woods on both sides to explore their vulnerable flanks and begin cutting timber for fires and fortifications. One or the other of his concealed armies would soon be discovered.

"Prepare the attack signal," Jak whispered to the bugler.

The piebald Rabbit's face contorted with worry and fear knowing that the signal was supposed to follow the beginning of the bombardment. An attack without the artillery would mean fiercer fighting and a greater chance of defeat. He obeyed anyway, and spit to wet his mouth before putting the horn to his lips.

Tense minutes passed until discovery became imminent and still the artillery had not sounded. A group of workers was heading directly for Jak's blind intent on collecting firewood and felling the tree under which he was hiding. The closest woodsman was looking curiously at Jak's camouflaged headquarters. Jak and the five warriors with him prepared to rush out and kill them to keep their secret a few minutes longer, but the civilians were suspicious enough to keep their distance. One called back for soldiers to come investigate.

All hope of secrecy was about to be lost. Jak held a paw up for his bugler to see. The young buck drew breath in anticipation, but Jak's arm remained steady even as the first few notes of the attack call sounded from a bugle in the woods on the opposite side of the battlefield.

The spirited tune was instantly overcome by the concussive thunder of the first artillery bomb. Exploding towards the front of the AR encampment, it had devastating effect. The newcomers' progress organizing their assault dissolved into terrified chaos as similar bombs exploded at ground level and in the air all about their encampment at a steady pace of one every five seconds.

Signals for the queen's army became as irrelevant as stealth. Jak dropped his paw anyway letting the bugler kit play his horn, thus earning his prideful place in his first battle. Each soldier already knew what to do. Both halves of the army moved out of hiding and into position with practiced precision to assemble on the open ground just beyond the trees - spearmen and swordsmen in front, archers in the rear.

The AR laborers and soldiers who were within and nearest the woods were caught between the bursts of damnation from the sky and an army that crawled out of the ground like demons escaping the underworld. A majority of the workers didn't hesitate to run back up the road the way the army had come. The rest either fell to the ground in terror or threw up their paws in surrender. None of them was a threat. Jak's army let them pass or stepped over and around the enemy laborers as though they were boulders or small trees in their way.

Allowing the escape of civilians and whichever soldiers decided to run was part of the plan. The panicked and fleeing Rabbits became Airy's tools for spreading fear and confusion among the rest of the AR army. Esseff had planted a few spies of his own to join them in their flight and to spread their own version of events, deliberately exaggerating the size and devastating capabilities of the army Airy possessed. Confusion regarding what had really happened was expected to delay the inevitable AR response, and Camorra promised that the propaganda boost from their victory would encourage more allies to rally to Airy's side.

That, though, was the future. Victory still had to be won today, and the fight would be hard and bloody. Already, the AR soldiers, being more disciplined than mere civilian laborers, retreated to their ranks. It was a brave deed considering it meant enduring the hellish bursts of artillery and the accompanying buzzing shrapnel that killed as if by invisible paws. To the entrapped soldiers, it must have felt as though the wrath of the Maker was punishing them for their rebellion.

Less than ten minutes elapsed before both sides of Jak's army were assembled and the order to advance was given. Before their first synchronous step, thousands of arrows launched into the air like a flight of deadly birds in formation. Then the foot soldiers, with archers in tow, began marching towards their foe to strike at their flanks and rear. The plan involved closing together behind the AR, trapping them against the keep. Airy's army was exposing itself to the danger that errant artillery shells might strike them, but losses from friendly fire were outweighed by the advantage of striking the enemy while he was disorganized.

The power of the artillery was not in how many of the enemy they killed, but in confusion and fear. This battle would not be won by bombardment. Jorveth had not been able to produce enough shells for that, and the enemy would simply have retreated out of range if he had. Victory would be delivered by disciplined soldiers fighting in ranks to overwhelm a more numerous but disordered and demoralized enemy.

To maximize the hopelessness of the enemy's position and ensure they were surrounded, Airy emptied River Keep of her reserve cavalry and foot soldiers. They were too few to pose a serious threat, so they arranged themselves defensively and prepared to rush in to help any trouble spots that might develop in the lines of her encircling army that was already on the verge of making contact with their foe.

The initial clash came seconds after the last exploding shell. To their credit, the AR forces had sufficient discipline to attempt to form defensive formations despite the nightmare they had endured. Airy's army met enough resistance to halt its advance at several locations, but many parts of the AR line collapsed, surrendering or were destroyed because they were unable to organize in time. The intact remnants of their army became islands surrounded and divided by a sea of howling Wolves.

This was the queen's goal, but the random nature of the breaks in the AR's lines and the divided generalship on her own side made Jak and Bear's ability to coordinate their attacks problematic. Inexperienced Wolves, who abandoned their formations when they sensed victory and thought that the battle was over, compounded their difficulties. They became easy prey for the AR cavalry, which were always composed of the most disciplined and battle hardened knights.

Like every competent battle commander throughout history, Jak wished for a way to communicate instantly across distance with his officers. If he could just tell them exactly what do at each given moment, he could end the battle with fewer losses. Perhaps one day, Jorveth would provide that, too. Until then, Jak relied on the unshakeable discipline, personal initiative, and training of the Special Reserves and the other well trained units at his disposal. He hoped they were enough to carry the day.

As required of a Wolf chief, Jak fought among the front ranks. He knew Airy envied him for it, but the bloody carnage was nothing Jak had ever enjoyed, especially this mechanical but effective process of slaughter Rikifur had developed. Jak was accustomed to raids of a few score individuals at most that ended quickly with minimal loss of life whenever it became obvious which side would win. The Rabbits of the AR seemed determined to fight on no matter how hopeless their situation became. Already having raged for nearly an hour, many hundreds - maybe more than a thousand, lay dead, or dying. Many more were wounded, screaming out their pain loud enough to be heard above the din of clashing weapons and the hoarse shouts by commanders to press on.

Hacking and stabbing at whoever appeared in front became the sole focus of each soldier's existence - a seemingly eternal task to which each of them had been damned. Hidden behind shields and cocooned within helmets and light armor, it was nearly impossible to see whom you were stabbing, but the formula was simple. If he faced you, he was the enemy.

It was grizzly and frightening work in which each warrior never knew when an opponent's blade would slip through his defense and open his belly. As disconcerting as that was, the battle became truly terrifying when the cavalry charged with their lances. The foot soldier's only defense was to have the spearmen set the butts of their weapons against the ground to form a bristling square and hope the thundering horses shied away. If they broke through, the formation was doomed.

Several charges had been made against Jak's square. He was an obvious target with the ridiculous banner that the Rabbits insisted he display so he could be found in battle by his own troops. With its red and white paws on a field of black, it was a pretty thing, but it gave his position and status to the enemy as well.

Jak was grateful that Wolf protocol placed the best warriors closest to the Chief. Every cavalry charge against his square was repulsed by spearmen who never wavered. When horses and riders impaled themselves on their spears crushing the Wolves caught beneath the squealing and dying beasts, reserve spearmen and swordsmen stepped in to close the gap and dispatch any enemy that survived the assault. Jak had nearly been killed in one such attack. A large aching bruise adorned his left thigh where a dying horse kicked him before it expired. If the bruise was his price of leadership, it was preferable to being dead.

Jak's easily identifiable status as the leader of his army was true for the AR general also. A golden banner with three silver swords arranged in a triangle flew tantalizingly out of reach for most of the battle. Jak drove his square and the others closest to him towards that flag knowing that the battle would end when he held it in his paws, but the banner and its owner stubbornly remained in the largest pocket of AR resistance. With astounding discipline, considering what they had been through, the AR troops protecting their general had formed a circle of sword and spearmen within which were hundreds of mounted knights that could sally forth as needed through well-ordered breaks in the line that would open and close only for their own. Jak had no such cavalry dedicated to him. There were too few on his side trying to be everywhere at once.

If Jak was light on cavalry, he had the advantage in total numbers now. He was confident victory would be his eventually, but the cost in lives would be high. Refusing to accept those losses, Jak developed a daring plan to bring a speedy end to the battle. Grabbing the little bugler kit who had dutifully stayed at his side, Jak bade him blow the call that signaled the nearest cavalry unit to come to him. Several dozen knights arrived within minutes and he quickly outlined their mission.

Jak pulled together the best foot units he had nearby, and gave them a new set of orders before leading an all-out assault on the AR general's island of troops. The Special Reserves led with particular fury in an attempt to open a hole. It was the bloodiest exchange of the day, and Jak found himself in the front hacking through the last of the defenders. Just as the AR line was on the verge of breaking, Jak signaled his bugler to sound a new call. Its meaning was known only to him, the small contingent of cavalry, and the officers leading his surprise maneuver, but it was clear, loud, and portended change as it swept over the field of battle.

To the surprise and momentary relief of the beleaguered enemy, a section of Jak's front line one hundred feet long took a single step back and knelt down. Their relief turned to terror as three rows or archers, waiting for this moment, launched successive volleys with the first dropping to their knees after firing so the second could repeat the action then kneeling in turn for the third. At such close range and propelled by the powerful longbows of the Wolves, the arrows easily pierced shields and armor. After the third volley, a gaping hole was all that remained of the enemy line in front of them. The archers dispersed to the sides as soon as their last arrows flew. The cavalry leapt over the crouching sword and spearmen. Jak jumped on a horse with an empty saddle provided to him and they passed within the AR's defenses. Standing again, the foot soldiers reformed and pressed inwards at the edges of the breach to widen and hold open the gap.

Time spent riding in Storfay and more recent training with Rikifur had turned Jak into a competent equestrian. What had long ago seemed like an unruly and clumsy beast became an extension of his own body. Vaun had gifted Jak a mount named Courage, and it was Courage who bore him now on his quest for the enemy's flag.

The AR troops continued fighting bravely and with discipline, but they were divided again. Their cavalry was neutralized and caught in the open as their sword and spearmen were forced into ever smaller islands to prevent being flanked and destroyed.

A dozen of the queen's cavalry kept close to Jak protecting him from harm. Jak was aware of them, but his focus remained fixed on the golden banner with the silver triangle. He drove relentlessly towards it hacking at any one in his way with his long steel sword and parrying with his shield. His own hindpaw bound warriors struggled to keep up in his wake as best they could while protecting his flanks.

Jak's counterpart was also mounted and surrounded by knights. Separated from his protective ring of foot soldiers, he was vulnerable. Knowing this, the AR general with his banner bearer at his side raced towards the safety of a nearby ragged phalanx that was attempting to reform. If they reached their goal and rallied enough of the remainder of their army together, everything Jak had just accomplished would be in vain. Resolved to end the battle, Jak kicked Courage's flanks and drove to intercept the AR general, leaving his supporting foot soldiers behind.

Nothing stood between Jak and his goal but open space. With his own riders in tow, he was soon among the enemy knights arresting their retreat and hacking his way toward the elusive banner. A bloody melee winnowed the flag's protective entourage until only one knight remained between Jak, the Rabbit general, and his banner carrier.

The guard fought desperately to stop the sword wielding Wolf. Jak's blade found an opening through the side of the defender's breastplate, caught in his ribs, and was wrenched from Jak's paw as the dying buck toppled backwards off his horse. Losing his primary weapon was a terrible setback so close to his goal. Jak scanned the local field of battle to assess the situation. The enemy's closest phalanx was moving towards his position, and Jak's own foot support was too far away to stop them. Unwilling to lose the advantage for which he had fought so hard, Jak crouched on Courage's back and drew his Wolf made obsidian blade. Leaping onto the back of the dead rider's horse, he used it as a springboard to launch himself into the side of the AR general. The Rabbit buck was torn him from his saddle. Jak and his opponent hit the ground with the Wolf on top.

Jak's black blade slipped past the protective mail under the Rabbit's chin and stopped against his throat. Wrenching his opponent's sword arm, Jak broke the buck's grip on the pommel of his weapon. The battle continued to rage around them as each side tried to close in and protect their leader, but for Jak, the world shrank to nothing more than the tiny swatch of ground upon which he and his opponent lay. They were a calm oasis in a turbulent sea like a small island briefly sheltered by the eye of a hurricane.

"Our spies tell me that you are General Phensthitetes," said Jak as he increased pressure with his blade for emphasis. "Give the signal to surrender, General, or I cut your throat!"

So dry was Jak's mouth that his voice was hardly more than a croaking whisper, but his snout was next to his defeated enemy's long ears. The Rabbit heard him well enough.

"That is indeed my name. I yield to you, Wolf."

Defeat embittered Phensthitetes' voice, but he could not restrain a measure of grudging admiration to an enemy that he had previously thought could never be taught to fight properly.

"You have finally learned to beat us at our own game. Well done."

Those words had been delivered quietly for only Jak to hear, but Phensthitetes bellowed the rest of what he had to say for the benefit of everyone nearby.

"Surrender! Stand down, Rabbits of the AR! The battle is over! Lower my banner!"

The golden flag dropped, and Jak's black standard along with the queen's flag rose in its place. The battle was over. Jak searched about for his young bugler, but the kit was nowhere to be seen. Fearing he had been killed, Jak shouted to a knight carrying a dented, but serviceable, horn.

"Sound the cease attack!"

Though the knight's instrument was damaged and squawked like a wounded chicken, its call was picked up by others and spread like ripples on water until it reached every corner of the field of battle. In its wake, a wave of calm and silence radiated rapidly from Jak's position. The queen's soldiers disengaged, and the enemy wearily stood their ground.

None of the standing soldiers on either side cheered. Only the injured and dying made any sound, and their wails of suffering and despair were muted by the expectant hush. Fatigue made even the bravest somber and quiet.

As the AR general's orders were relayed by bugle signals of his own, his soldiers began to throw down their weapons. Jak released Phensthitetes and helped him up to his hindpaws. A guard was placed on him for his own protection as much as to keep him from attempting any mischief. Orders were given on both sides for an orderly surrender and for the grisly process of burying the dead and nursing the wounded.

While Jak was attending to the details of the battle's aftermath, Bear approached on the back of his plodding draft horse. Milikes rode beside him upon a stunning white stallion. The unlikely duo was jubilant and bragging of their exploits. Leaning across the gap that separated their mounts, Milikes slapped Bear on his broad back.

"By the Maker, sir! You were truly ferocious in that battle. I think you could have taken them all by yourself if they hadn't surrendered so soon. None can stand against the mighty Bear!"

Bear beamed proudly at his friend's praise.

"With warriors like you at my side, Milikes, I feel that we could march to your capitol, Chortaghentos, right now and defeat every foe in our way. Of course, no one compares to White Paw, who captured the enemy's flag all by himself. He is truly the Maker's chosen one."

"He deserves a cheer," agreed Milikes. "All hail, White Paw!" he shouted repeatedly. Bear's booming voice joined to give the acclamation emphasis.

The refrain was quickly repeated by others nearby and spread among the troops until it became a deafening roar that sounded even from within the keep. Jak bore their adoration with a calm air of authority, but he did not share their exhilaration and joy. Death was everywhere oppressing his spirit. He felt a deep sorrow for all of the slain, even the one's he had killed, but most of all he mourned for his little, lost bugler.

He needn't have grieved, and was vastly relieved, when amid the ongoing thunder of approval for his heroics, a small figure carrying a long, cloth wrapped bundle across his forearms trudged wearily through the mud and out from among the tall crowd of Wolf warriors and Rabbit knights. Jak urged his horse forward away from his celebrating generals, who had found some strong wine and were sharing it among their fellow officers as they invented songs about their esteemed leader.

Jak met the kit in a gap that parted as the crowd yielded space for their reunion. The knights and warriors who were responsible for guarding Jak stayed a respectful distance away when their general waived his paw for them to wait. Jak dismounted and faced the boy, who wore the same fearful expression as when he had waited with Jak in the blind. His uniform was torn and filthy, his cheek was scratched and stained with clotted blood, his left ear had a notch taken from it, and his helmet was missing, but otherwise he appeared unhurt.

"I thought you were dead," said Jak without accusation, but the young buck felt culpable for not being present when White Paw needed him. He hung his head in shame.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. I failed you. I just couldn't keep up with you without a horse. It's no excuse..."

"You have not failed me," said Jak as he used one finger to lift the kit's chin so their eyes could meet.

"But I wasn't there to sound your last call."

"Someone was, and you did your best. I'm just grateful you survived the battle."

"You are?"

Jak tussled the mop of curly blonde fur between the young Rabbit's ears with affection. None present could remember ever seeing such a kind gesture shared between their species. It was a surreal scene unrepeated since the early days of the making of the races.

"Of course I am. You demonstrated great bravery today. You'll make a fine officer, if you want to be, that is."

The youth's face lit up with undisguised pleasure.

"I do, sir. I do."

The young buck became instantly serious again, though, when he remembered the object he held.

"Oh! I found your sword stuck in a dead knight."

Unwrapping the muddy cloth, the young buck presented the unique weapon to Jak, who gratefully accepted it.

"It's clean," observed Jak.

"Yes, sir. I wiped away the blood and mud for you. It's a magnificent blade. I've never seen another like it. Do Wolves make such fine blades?"

The absurd notion brought a brief smile to Jak's face.

"No, but thank you for retrieving it. You have done well. What is your name?"

"Dryphythus, sir."

After returning his sword to its sheath, Jak knelt next to the lad and whispered conspiratorially in his long ear.

"Do you know, Dryphythus, that my Maker, Olivia, gave me this blade? Her angels forged it in her magic realm; one for me and its twin for your queen. Do you believe that?"

Doubt and a worried expression clouded the boy's face.

"You can say 'no' if that is what you think," Jak said to put the kit at ease. "I will not punish you for being honest."

Permission to speak freely was like opening the floodgates that had previously dammed his enthusiasm.

"Well, sir, I've always been told there is only one Maker, but I was also told that all Wolves were stupid savages, if you'll pardon me repeating that, sir. What I mean, sir, is people say lots of things, and some are true and some are not. It's not always easy to tell what's right until you see it for yourself, and now that I've seen you command this army, I know you aren't a stupid savage."

"I'm grateful to hear that. What about the part about the Maker and the sword?"

"I don't know. I've never met a Maker, but since you say you have, I kind of want to believe you."

"I appreciate your trust and your honesty. I'll return the favor by letting you accompany me to meet the queen and witness the official surrender of our enemy."

"Really? Wow! Thank you, sir. That's a great honor."

Retrieving the reins of his horse, Jak put one booted hindpaw in the stirrup and climbed into the saddle. Extending his paw to Dryphythus, he hauled the lad up to sit between him and the horse's neck.

General Phensthitetes was escorted by Jak, Bear, Milikes, and Rhynnayth to the castle gate where Airy sat astride her mount, resplendent in her polished armor. The rain had passed, the clouds were dispersing, and shafts of shimmering sunlight began to illuminate selected portions of the battlefield like spotlights upon actors in a play. Numerous dramas played out across the stage that was the battlefield, but none more remarkable than what awaited the defeated general. Airy deliberately positioned herself in one of the golden circles where the sun reflecting off her breastplate and arm guards dazzled his eyes, making her appear to be a hero out of legend receiving a blessing from heaven. Her own troops gazed with reverence and awe upon their queen as a divinely anointed deliverer of victory.

Phensthitetes, however, was unimpressed, never having thought of the princess as anything more than a breeding tool for future kings. The contrast between her pristine appearance and those who had fought courageously in the mud, mist, and rain intensified his cynicism. After being led into the keep and forced to dismount along with the others, he signaled his disdain by refusing to kneel before her or making any sign of obeisance.

Airy perceived his arrogant obstinacy for what it was having endured it long enough in her youth when she navigated her awkward and unconventional path through the officer ranks. She was the outsider then, tolerated by bucks like Phensthitetes only because her father commanded it, but now their roles were reversed. Airy was in command, and her former critic needed to have the blinders of his prejudice removed so he could see beyond the young doe that he remembered as only a royal brat defying her sex while daring to do a buck's work. She was as brave and seasoned as any buck in Rikifur. If Phensthitetes had difficulty accepting that, Airy was prepared to assist him to find understanding.

"Welcome, Phensthitetes, to Chroesephan, the temporary capitol of Rikifur. Please forgive my disappointment with your presence, but I had hoped General Dypholones would have come himself."

Her statement had been carefully crafted. Claiming River Keep as her capitol was intended to convey unequivocally that she was the rightful ruler and that everyone present, including Phensthitetes was one of her subjects and thus beneath her. The general, though, refused to be cowed even in defeat.

"So, the little princess plays at war hiding behind the battlements all safe and clean while her barbaric hordes of Wolves do her dirty work," was his snide reply.

Despite her resolve to remain calm, Airy's fists clenched in rage at the General's condescending tone. Though Dypholones was the most egregious chauvinist leader under whom she had served, his attitude was clearly shared by his subordinates like Phensthitetes. Their disparagement had haunted her during all her years of military training. With her rightful crown at stake and troops of her own to command, she would not stand for it anymore.

Neither would Vaun, of course. Lack of respect for rank and status was anathema to him. Unable to control himself, he advanced on Phensthitetes meeting him snout to snout.

"Now see here! If you are implying the queen is a coward, I demand immediate redress for that slanderous lie. I'll have your ears for a trophy. The Queen stormed River Keep at the front of..."

Airy placed a firm paw on Vaun's chest, bidding him to step back.

"Enough, Vaun."

Her childhood friend and protector reluctantly obeyed by retreating a step.

"General Phensthitetes, please be direct and say what is on your mind. My subjects and allies know better than to interfere."

With another curt gesture, she ordered the rest of her defenders to make space for her and the AR general. Positioning herself so that her adversary was less than an arm's length away, her guards and officers fidgeted nervously and clutched at their weapons, uncomfortable with being unable to stand between her and possible harm as she began to harangue and provoke her opponent. Comparing only their relative sizes, Airy would have seemed but a child confronting an adult, but her confidence and experience added to her apparent stature. Even the larger buck she faced had difficulty defying her daunting bearing.

"This former princess has played war and won her first battle. How humiliating that must be for the poor loser, General Phensthitetes; a seasoned commander with nearly two decades of glorious service defeated by a young doe and her rag tag army of Wolves."

A half formed snarl betrayed Phensthitetes anger as he attempted to weather the humiliating laughter Airy's statement provoked. He was tempted to slap her for her impudence, but one of her hotheaded protectors would certainly kill him for that. In an attempt to regain some of his lost vanity, he reached out to pat Airy's head condescendingly while delivering a sarcastic congratulation.

"I compliment you on your beginners luck, but it..."

Prepared for some manner of insulting gesture, Airy responded with controlled violence. The instant his paw touched her head, Airy snatched his wrist with her left paw and twisted his palm upward painfully. With fluid grace, her right arm caught his restrained arm at the shoulder junction. Her right leg swept behind his knee unbalancing him, and she let his own weight take him down on his back. Before he could recover from the shock, Airy had drawn a dagger and held it point first hovering just above his right eye.

So rapid was her attack, that none of Airy's guards could move to intervene until it was over, and then, realizing she had everything under control, they opted for prudence and stood warily by as Airy tormented her enemy further. Vaun and Jak shared a private glance of understanding for what Airy was doing and similarly restrained themselves.

"I am the Queen of Rikifur, Phensthitetes. To touch me without permission is a flogging offense. Do you wish to add a collection of lashing scars on your back to remind you of your recent inglorious service in the war that you are helping to lose?"

The fire in her eyes and the blade dominating his vision convinced the prostrate buck that she was deadly serious.

"No," he replied. The tip of her knife edged closer, and he grudgingly added "...Your Majesty."

The blade withdrew, but her grip pinioning his arm remained firm as steel.

"You fear me now, General. You should, but you should fear my army more for having demonstrated its military prowess today. Beginner's luck didn't win this battle. It was preparation, innovation, bravery, discipline, tactics, and determination. I should let the Wolves have their way with you for suggesting anything else, but I am a forgiving monarch. I offer amnesty even to my enemies knowing that you are, in fact, all my people. Since you have learned respect and humility, I pardon you of all of your crimes except for incompetence, and yet that is the most serious crime of all. There is no place in my army for worthless leaders like you who are duped by simple traps and can't think beyond tradition to learn something new. You shall spend the rest of the war in a cell."

Standing again, Airy stepped away from her broken foe, letting two of her Rabbit officers help Phensthitetes to his hindpaws without releasing either of his arms. There would be no repeat of previous attempt to touch Her Majesty's person.

"I have the terms of your surrender already written and ready for you to sign. It is unconditional on your part. My terms are these. All of your weapons, armor, and siege engines are forfeit and become my property. Any officer or soldiers in your army may recant the Anti Royalist cause, swear fealty to me, and join my army if they pass the inspection of my truth sensing Wolves. Any who do not wish to join me must sign an oath to return to their homes and not take up arms against me ever again. Those who do not agree to sign this oath or who fail to convince my Wolves of the sincerity of their pledge will sit out the war and possibly the rest of their lives in a foul, crowded dungeon."

A short table, pen, and ink well were brought forth and stood before the general. A large piece of parchment was unrolled upon the table and the ends weighted with stones. Silence reigned as the general looked over the document to verify it matched Airy's words. When he was finished, he spat in disgust at the ground but took the pen, affixed his signature without a word, and was led away.

"Take this outside," Airy ordered, "and have the commander of each of the enemy's companies read it aloud to his troops before signing. Have General Phensthitetes' battle flag brought into the tower and laid out as a tablecloth upon which we shall celebrate and toast our victory!"

A hearty hurrah followed as her orders were enacted.

Rabbit officers and Wolf sergeants were invited to join her and her generals at the feast. Jak brought his young bugler along and introduced him to Airy before they were seated in the banquet hall at a long table raised above the rest by a low platform. Dryphythus kneeled solemnly in front of Airy.

"I understand you gave good service to White Paw today," she said as she helped the kit to stand so she could get a better look at him. They were of equal height.

"I'm grateful Your Majesty thinks so. Begging your pardon, but I'm just glad I didn't run away. I was terrified, but White Paw needed me. I couldn't let him down."

"That is the very definition of bravery, Dryphythus, doing your duty despite your fear."

Airy took the kit's paw and raised it in the air with hers.

"Everyone!" she shouted gaining the attention of her raucous officers. "A toast to young Dryphythus, White Paw's bugler, for distinguished service in his first battle."

Shouts of approval and a smattering of convivial chuckling followed as Airy held up her own goblet and downed its contents. The crowd followed suit then shouted "Dryphythus!" much to the kit's astonishment. The poor lad was lost and disoriented among such august company of rowdy adults. Wyn finally rescued him by taking his paw and leading him back to the kitchen to help with the cooking and to get something to eat.

It was just as well for the kit because he was starved, exhausted, and the celebration was destined to extend well into the early morning hours and involve an excessive consumption of drink. Impromptu songs commemorating their victory and boasting dominated the evening with Bear the loudest braggart of all.

"Twenty! I killed twenty today. More than anyone. Next time we meet the enemy, I will kill twice that number."

"How would you know?" questioned Milikes in jest. "Rumor has it that you can't count that high."

Laughter erupted around the room, mostly from the Rabbits. A minor brawl broke out as several Rabbits tried to stop Bear, who fought his way towards Milikes. Little more than minor impediments to the huge Wolf, Bear brushed them all aside and soon had Milikes pinned to the floor. Slowly, but without error, he counted aloud.

"One, two, three...," Bear began and continued without error until he reached "...nineteen, twenty," and finished with a satisfied smile.

Milikes returned the grin in kind.

"And so I am proven wrong. Twenty it is."

Bear lifted his Rabbit friend effortlessly with one paw as he hefted his own burly body upright. Holding Milikes by the front of his shirt so the heels of the Rabbit's boots were several inches above the floor, Bear brushed the dust and hay from the Milike's coat before lowering his hindpaws to the floor. Goblets overflowing with drink were then handed to them. Milikes raised his for another toast.

"To forty!"

The shout was repeated with gusto, but Jak wished to temper the bloodthirsty bravado. As he stood while rapping his knuckles on the table to get their attention, all eyes turned to him with respect, and their conversations stopped. Jak drank the last of the wine in his cup to wet his mouth and steady his thoughts before speaking.

"Bear is indeed a courageous and incomparable warrior. It is right that songs be sung of not just his exploits but of all the great deeds done today by the many heroes including those that died. Drink up and celebrate. You have earned it."

He was interrupted by cheers of approval and paws pounding on the tables. Letting them have their moment, he counted to ten in his head before raising his white paw in the air to silence them again.

"Yes. You were glorious today, but don't let the love of slaughter grow in your heart. War is a necessary but ugly business that has many lessons to teach us. Foremost among them should always be that we fight for duty and never for the joy of killing. Our duty is to make a quick end of further bloodshed and bring back the peace of the early days of our making. It is for amity and concord that we fight. We must never forget that."

It was a well-intentioned, but somber, speech that Jak instantly regretted. He had no right or good cause to smother their joyous mood with the shroud of his own melancholy. Fortunately, Airy came to his rescue to temper his speech and lighten its impact.

"White Paw is correct!" she shouted. "We have not come together to fight a thousand year feud. We will not expend our best on a never-ending series of battles. We must dedicate ourselves to ending all strife in Rikifur and the Packlands forever. That means war unrelenting until war is no more. Fight for that and your heroic deeds will be worthy of remembrance."

Airy sat back down next to Jak, who also reclaimed his seat. She gently squeezed his thigh under the table as the revelers resumed their riotous party with renewed enthusiasm, satisfied that their leaders recognized their triumph and demonstrated the confidence to lead them to further victories. Airy leaned over to whisper in Jak's ear. Concern tainted her voice.

"That was a grim speech. Are you feeling all right?"

"Today was a grim affair. So many killed, and for what? So we can fight another even more terrible battle in a week? I doubt I will ever be comfortable with this type of war."

"Oh, Jak, no sane person should be, but nothing about war is sane. You are right to despise it, but we have to consider morale. We must bury our feelings and be unyielding like steel until this is over. When we have the peace you speak of, we can hate war and killing again. Until then, we must be whatever our army needs to keep them fighting. Can you do that?"

Jak sighed, but a look of plaintive adoration for Airy accompanied it.

"If it will help end this sooner, then yes. I can do anything that bestows even the slightest hope for us to be reunited, my love."

Though Airy tried to hide her affection, the love she still carried for Jak was plain upon her face for anyone to see. Fortunately, the crowd was too intent upon drowning the horrors of the day to notice. Airy and Jak's paws clasped together briefly and discreetly under the cover of the enemy's battle flag that hung over the edges of the table before they rejoined the revelry of their followers.

[End of Chapter]