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Ice crystals driven by the aggressive northern wind swirled and cavorted maddeningly about Vaun like biting insects, stinging his snout where his nose protruded from the small oval opening in his protective, fur-lined hood. Squinting through goggle-covered eyes from atop River Keep's curved rampart, he beheld his beloved, normally lush, and green Rikifur entombed in snow and ice. The far, northern tundra was an unexplored mystery to him, but the bleak vista he beheld on this winter morning matched his expectation of how that distant wasteland might look.

Jorveth's prediction of a winter worse than the previous year had come true. Within days of Airy's humiliating retreat from what was becoming known as the Battle of Doom Hill, the first of many snowstorms and deep freezes arrived to a region that typically saw none at all. War, by necessity, had come to a halt awaiting the hoped for return of milder weather in the spring.

Unvanquished, but unable to advance, the army Airy had been forced to abandon at Dome Hill burned their trebuchets, destroyed everything that they didn't need for survival, and slogged through the accumulating snow back to Montethoytos searching as they went for their lost queen. Along the way, Cat's Panthers found the injured but indomitable balloon passengers.

As if the paw of the Maker had guided Airy's descent, her wayward airship managed to avoid entanglement in the omnipresent, towering fir trees. It made contact with the ground miraculously along an open, cobbled river bar. The sagging, but still buoyant balloon, acting like the sail of a ship at sea, threatened to drag them into the nearby rain-swollen torrent, but deftly wielded blades by Airy and Cat severed the ropes connecting their tiny basket to the dangerous silk orb. Once unencumbered by their weight, the warm air filled bag rose again to vanish in the storm.

Alive, but without provisions or shelter, starvation and exposure competed to be their executioners. Working together, the four companions refused to let their injuries make the task easier for the bloodthirsty fates. Having kept her wits during their aerial journey, Airy knew their approximate location and exhorted the others to move north towards the main road where their chances of being discovered were greatest. Cat solved the hunger threat by catching fish suitable for Airy and Dryphythus to eat and an elk in the forest for Bear and herself. Neither the Wolf Chief nor the Rabbit kit could walk far, but they were able to construct a crude sledge enabling them to take turns being towed by Cat and Airy. A few extra miles of travel were thus gained each day.

Huddling together near a fire each night kept them from freezing until the thankful morning when Airy was awoken by Thayir's long tongue against her cheek. Joy beyond measure accompanied the reunion with her feral guardian. Even the accompanying presence of the grumpy Bandrosett was welcome. To learn that Milikes, Sunorthoses, and so many others had survived the catastrophe on Dome Hill was a tremendous relief, but it could not offset the shame Airy felt for what she believed to be a military and diplomatic failure. Her despondency was magnified by the early snowfall that ended any chance to recover her martial reputation with a quick victory. The most injurious indignity, however, came days later when she was forced to relinquish Montethoytos and every hard fought inch of territory she had spent most of the early fall conquering.

Sergyseine, where poor, rocky soil limited food production in the best years, was already facing a legacy of food shortages from the previous winter. A second winter of snowdrift covered roads and frozen rivers was certain to prevent the import of sufficient supplies for her army across the hundreds of miles that separated the well provisioned storehouses of River Keep from Montethoytos. What little stores the locals possessed could have fed Airy's occupying army if she had been willing to starve the rightful owners. Rebels or not, they were her people, and she refused to create unnecessary suffering among them. It was thus with grudging reluctance that she returned control of the province to Duke Hrothsthentes upon whom the magnitude of her sacrifice was not lost.

Reciprocating her munificence, he proclaimed publicly his effusive gratitude for Airy's sparing of his people and reinforced the unexpectedly magnanimous gesture by openly admitting his admiration for her ability to tame the savage Wolves. All his fears and preconceived prejudices had been vanquished by the absence of barbarity among the canids and their adherence to most norms of what he considered the fundamentals of a civilized society. No systematic rape of his people or pillaging of their lands occurred during the brief occupation. There were, of course, isolated and unpleasant incidents and encounters between the two species, but inquiries were conducted and military justice fairly administered. Hrothsthentes was impressed and wasn't shy about admitting his approbation.

His change of opinion was a conviction Airy desired to foster among her kind, and yet she was unprepared to accept his radical request that a contingent of Wolves remain with him through the winter as ambassadors of good will. Dawn, who was now noticeably pregnant with White Paw's kit was specifically requested by name to stay. Initially, Airy was opposed to the idea, afraid that Dawn and any others left behind would be exploited as hostages. She did not want to risk Jak's wrath by putting his unborn pup at risk, but Hrothsthentes' conspicuous sincerity and Dawn's confidence that she could deliver the renegade province to the queen by spring won Airy's grudging and doubtful acceptance.

Though the professed conversion of the bigoted young duke was a significant triumph, it was the only victory Airy retained on her solemn journey home, where upon arrival, the contrast between her state of solemn woe and that of her loyal subjects was distinct. She was greeted at River Keep with fanfare and celebration by a populace grateful to have her back alive and full of optimism that her near defeat of the AR using only a small fraction of their army meant a swift end to the war was inevitable. Those at the highest level of command, like Jak and Vaun, knew the implications of her campaign were more nuanced. While diligently working to undo the damage, they studiously avoided reproaching her in public for a dangerously impetuous misadventure that did more than put her in danger. The weakness signaled by the end of her previously untarnished war record boded ill for her future prospects to reunite her country.

Though much of value had been accomplished in her campaign, such as reducing the size of the AR's army and proving the merits of the observation balloon, a single defeat was enough to cause allegiances to waiver and shift. Rikifur was a nation dominated by bucks whose chauvinism was rooted in a thousand plus years of tradition and the inherent sexual dimorphism of their race. Male Rabbits were considerably larger and stronger than does. This physical reality nurtured the belief, promulgated by the Church and civil law, that the Maker had ordained a division of labor between the sexes. Females were considered unfit for fighting and hence any understanding of war and governance.

None of her most loyal commanders or staunchest allies doubted her ability to defeat the AR in the spring, provided that she could bring her full army to bear on the eastern front, but the uncertainty behind that proviso among her less stable allies came to dominate the altered strategic and political landscape. To the majority of Rabbits within the realm, the idea of a warrior queen was only acceptable when accompanied by the belief that the Maker was using her as an effective, if unconventional, tool to influence the destiny of Rikifur. As long as Airy remained victorious, they ignored her sex and allowed her to lead, but now that she had been defeated, her less stalwart allies were actively questioning the invincibility of the young, female monarch. Without the surety of the Maker's paw at her back, the clamor for a king and traditional male-dominated rule increased in volume. Andres was alive and proclaimed king by the Church, which made him an attractive alternative that began to fracture her support in northwestern Rikifur.

Prevented by winter from fighting and re-establishing her military eminence for at least four months, Airy retreated into a private world of cold despair knowing that the seeds of her defeat were sown, awaiting only the thaw of spring to sprout their bitter bloom. Options were available to forestall all loss of hope, but the price to reverse her failure portended to be dear, and Airy did not wish to pay it.

As he stood his frigid dawn vigil, Vaun's ruminations were beset by similar demons of doubt. Though the unusual winter was indeed extreme, the shivering wracking his body had its cause more in the dread he felt for his queen's political predicament than the unrelenting cold to which he was exposed. Airy needed the northwestern provinces solidly on her side as a buffer against the armies of the priests. She needed freedom to hurl everything she had at the AR. Without guarantees from her existing allies, she faced a stalemate that could drag the war on for years or possibly lose her the throne forever. Dreadful as that prospect was, a worse possibility bedeviled his thoughts. The AR and priests might unite out of their mutual hatred for the Wolves to crush her. Resistance within Rikifur to working with their former enemies was still strong, Segyrseine and her own army being notable exceptions.

Consumed by despair and frustration, Vaun was diverted from dwelling on his physical discomfort as he stood his lonely vigil. His only companion was a guard, who ventured into the forbidding weather every five to ten minutes to prove to his brooding commander that he was executing his duties by confirming that no invader was insane enough to dare an attack under such harsh conditions. After a quick, unreciprocated salute and a hasty scan of the surrounding countryside, the shivering sentry hastened back into the relative warmth and safety of his guardhouse where he crouched over a carefully tended brazier of burning coal until his next obligatory inspection.

After several such encounters, Vaun had stopped paying attention to any movement upon the wall. Thus, the approach of a different figure emerging from the early morning, icy gloom went unnoticed until the mystery visitor joined him at his post and spoke. White Paw's irritation manifested itself as clear as the accompanying puff of vapor from his mouth, but it was assuaged in part by his curiosity.

"Why did you summon me to meet under these wretched conditions?"

Though Jak was wearing Olivia's gift of cold weather clothes hidden under his Rikifur made outer garments, the Wolf chief hugged his arms tightly about his chest to stay warm. He harbored no desire to brave the hostile elements one second longer than this secretive meeting required. Vaun, however, stood still as a statue, seemingly unaffected by the chill, leaving Jak to wonder if the general had been frozen in place.

"The setting fits my mood," answered Vaun after an icy pause. "It's a symbol of our plight. The solstice is today. Did you know that? This is the shortest day of the year when the world appears upon a blade's edge of death."

Jak's frigid annoyance was dispersed by the warmth of sympathy he felt for his friend. Never before had he seen Vaun so morose and dispirited. The Rabbit general's mood was darker than the day of their first meeting when Vaun was on the verge of abandoning his vigil for the lost princess.

"I think that more than the weather and the season trouble you. Tell me what is on your mind, friend."

Turning away from the parapet, Vaun pivoted to face Jak. Though his expression was obscured by the winter hood and slit goggles that protected his eyes, his posture and scent were all Jak needed to know that his friend was agitated and in great despair.

"The Queen's cause is teetering at the precipice of oblivion. The stalemate at Dome Hill and the near destruction of our eastern army is erasing the gains you and I made in the Northwest. Those alliances must hold. We can never defeat the AR with enemies at our backs."

None of this was news to Jak. A deeper, unspoken concern haunted his companion.

"I know this and so does the queen. Camorra and others are using all the diplomatic tricks they know and promising whatever largesse is necessary to retain that support. There is nothing else we can do."

"Isn't there?"

Vaun's question hung in the air like his diaphanous, frozen breath. Though Jak was beginning to suspect the answer, he wanted to hear Vaun speak it first.

"What do you have in mind?"

"The queen has secluded herself from her most trusted friends and advisors, doing little but mope and fume while waiting until spring, ignoring, or perhaps refusing to acknowledge, the cost of her folly. Before her defeat, our cause seemed unstoppable. Now, we appear weak and bereft of the Maker's blessing. Doubt is circulating among our more tenuous allies - the ones kept loyal by the point of her sword."

"Yes, but in the spring, when the snow melts, we can move against the AR again and achieve victory to regain their confidence. Jorveth is developing more new weapons..."

"That will all take time - many months according to the Horse. The steel mill must be rebuilt before canon and other marvels can be made, and our armies must be reassembled once the snow melts. Already, our troops are dispersed. Soldiers and warriors have returned home to help their families survive this cruel winter. We gave your people all the food we could without setting ourselves up for starvation, but who knows what fraction of your army will return in the spring. Everything for which we have fought could be lost before we reassemble and are ready to advance."

"The enemy is similarly hampered. No one can move an army and fight under these conditions. Nothing will happen until winter retreats."

"That is where you are wrong, friend Jak. This idle season gives ample time to plot, scheme, negotiate, and change one's alliances. The AR is also sending forth emissaries to our dubious allies to work at destroying their loyalties to the failed queen. The priests have already begun a massive propaganda campaign leveraging the Wolf alliance against her, casting doubt upon her virginity, and generally nullifying her claim to the throne. Much of their slander is too disgusting to repeat here, but know that you factor into their sick lies. By spring, minds will have had plenty of time to change."

For the first time during their meeting, Jak was grateful for the weather and the concealment it provided. Vaun's reference to "sick lies" made the Wolf cringe. Jak did not wish his reaction to expose the veracity of the Church's accusation. Not for the first time, he thanked Olivia that it was only Wolves who could smell lies.

"Preposterous, of course," was his hasty response. "Airy was in my care during all of her long exile. The answer to these baseless falsehoods is to send forth our own agents to convince everyone otherwise. Camorra and Tigan have done an admirable job. So have the Shornies and numerous rebel priests who openly support the queen's divine right to rule."

"It's not enough. They can't be everywhere, and they can't undo the truth of the queen's defeat. You may think me unduly pessimistic, but I know for certain we will fail if we stay our present course."

Pausing and squirming imperceptibly, but noticeably to Jak, Vaun's nervousness puzzled the Wolf until the Rabbit admitted its cause.

"I spoke with Tigan. The queen must marry. Soon."

Since the battle of Doom Hill, the queen had forbidden her seeress Skunk to reveal any prophesy. Vaun's deliberate disobedience and promotion of Airy's immediate marriage were twin blows that staggered Jak. That Airy's most stalwart champion would deliberately disobey a direct order from his queen was more disturbing to Jak than the truthful rumors of Airy's infidelity, but was of little import to him when compared to the fate of their love. Jak had let denial shield him from this truth as surely as Airy had done. Faced with the awful reality, he was too distraught to respond to Vaun's admission of guilt.

"It pained me to go against her wishes," added Vaun with deep regret, "but the queen is not herself, or perhaps it is because she is herself - stubborn, willful, and determined. Those traits have served her well many times, but at this critical juncture, they will be her doom. The Skunk told me that there is no possible victory for us unless the queen chooses a king before spring, and even then, whom she chooses is paramount. Airy is hiding herself not only from the shame of her defeat, but from her best option to claim the throne."

The dark gloom of Airy's obfuscation was banished from Jak's mind as surely as each long night of winter vanished when the morning's dazzling sunrise was reflected and magnified by the snow and ice. To prevent those closest to her from debating the topic and demanding action was the very reason Airy had ordered her soothsayer's silence. Exposed at last, the solution to their plight that Airy found so repugnant could no longer be denied or returned to its place of hiding. Though sick at heart and wishing to rebury this topic, Jak knew that was impossible.

"Whom did Tigan recommend?" he asked with reluctance.

"She didn't. The lunatic only laughed at me and would say no more. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. She's so insane, I'm not entirely certain I believe her. You have a history with the witch. Does she truly know the future? We have precious little dealings with Skunks in Rikifur. Philosopher Bears are bad enough; always subtly subverting the teachings of the Church. Why encourage seers and soothsayers to confuse everyone about what is true and what is not?"

Vaun's question turned Jak's thoughts back to the time he had spent with Tigan, particularly their brief stay at Olivia's valley. The nature of Tigan's powers of prophesy had been explained by the Maker and their accuracy confirmed. Her gift was not to be dismissed lightly, but Vaun did not know this. Withholding the truth and discounting Tigan's words as mad ramblings would add doubt to blunt Vaun's resolve and give Airy what she wanted. It would also give Jak what he wanted - more hope that he and Airy could one day be together. He had not bestowed the matter of a royal wedding conscious thought. He reflexively shied away from the prospect even as he contemplated his response. Marriage was sure to doom their romance forever. The lone Wolf within him howled out his pain at the danger, but the chief, the leader, the Maker's chosen one - White Paw - wisely placed the welfare of the pack above individual happiness and love. That sage component of himself held cruel dominion over his voice and compelled him to stride farther along a path that promised only despair.

"Tigan has the foresight of a Maker," Jak heard himself admit. "Perhaps that is the root of her madness. Knowing the minds of the gods and seeing what they see must be a frightful burden."

Vaun sighed and shook his head.

"I had hoped you would have said otherwise. Doubting the Skunk was my last excuse to avoid what I must do next."

"Do? What can be done? The queen won't even speak to us."

"Rebel."

Vaun anticipated Jak's surprise.

"I am as unsettled with the concept as you, friend. Rebelling against my queen is the only option I can see. It is a traitorous path, but I see no other choice. I will do this even if it means losing her trust and dismissal from her service. Her current path leads to ruin. I betray her whether I follow her there or counter her commands. Disobedience appears to be the lesser evil to me."

Betrayal was not far from how Airy would perceive Vaun's plan.

"Is that why you summoned me, to recruit my support for your insurrection?"

"Yes. I cannot do this unassisted. Alone, I am impotent to sway her. For my mutiny to succeed, enough others like you must join me and agree to the immediate need for Airy to select a husband. If I can convert those she most trusts and respects, she will have to listen when we all confront her as one voice."

"This is a perilous course of action that could just as easily harden her resolve and destroy forever the circle of friends that have helped her get this far."

Mistaking the cause of Jak's lack of enthusiasm, Vaun sighed as if in defeat.

"I understand your reluctance. You are rightfully afraid that she might turn against you or that a strong king may override her wishes and break the alliance with your people. Renewed war between Wolves and Rabbits is a potential consequence."

Jak had not intended to dissuade Vaun or even to argue against the merits of his proposal. Instead, his love for Airy compelled him against honor and reason to postpone the inevitable.

"I spoke truthfully but rashly, and it has led you to an erroneous conclusion regarding my motives. I apologize for being unclear. It is true that I have concerns about the Rabbit-Wolf alliance, but the greater danger to my people is a Rikifur run by the Church or the Anti-Royalists. I trust Airy implicitly to protect my people no matter who is king. Thus, I support the idea of the queen choosing her king now."

"Truly? I was told you were adamantly against her marrying."

"I never said such a thing. Who told you this?"

Abashed, Vaun was reluctant to admit his source.

"Her Majesty."

Jak laughed.

"Your queen is a clever doe. She duped you by exploiting your trust in her, but don't feel bad. Others were equally beguiled. Though, she wouldn't bother to try lying to me, I see now that she led others astray and let their belief that you were also against a royal marriage influence me."

"Why would anyone believe that?"

"You confessed to me once of your desire to marry Airy. Tigan, Camorra, and Esseff all know of your infatuation for her. It was natural for them and me to assume that you wanted her and the crown for yourself."

Vaun was aghast.

"I love the queen with all my heart, but...I would never stand in the way of her doing what is right for Rikifur. Any thoughts I harbored of becoming king were a youth's fantasy. I am a buck now, seasoned by war and politics. I know my place. Rikifur requires the leadership and influence of a first-born son of a powerful Duke, not one of its outcast, lowly seventh sons. Needs of the queen and country must always come before the desires of one subject, especially one of little rank like myself."

Vaun's humility was endearing but also tragic. Jak reassured his friend by placing a paw upon his shoulder.

"Your love and devotion for Airy and Rikifur are commendable, but you do yourself a disservice by repudiating your prospects. You are a great leader infused with integrity, bravery, and honor. You deserve the crown more than any Rabbit I have met. Will the obnoxious tenets of Rikifurian succession prevent that? Certainly, if you give up so easily. Don't let those obstacles defeat you. Remember, it is the queen's decision to make, and she has shown a remarkable tendency to defy tradition."

"Do you really think she might choose me?"

"I don't know, but anything is possible. She is as you said earlier 'stubborn, willful, and determined.' Airy will have her way, whatever that way may be. Look how cleverly she manipulated you, I, and the others into thinking no one else would support a push for her immediate marriage. Our little sovereign has revealed an uncanny sense for misdirection. She has adroitly isolated us and herself when we most need to band together."

Vaun shook his head in wonderment.

"It is a skill that will serve her well when she is surrounded by less loyal counselors with their own agendas, but here and now, she needs to trust us and listen to our advice. We must be unified and of one mind on this when we confront her. Will you join me in this effort, friend White Paw? She listens to you more than she listens to anyone. Without your aid, I will fail."

No rational reason existed for Jak to decline, but his heart quivered and made him hesitate. Airy's scruples and ingrained sense of morality would not allow her to keep Jak as a lover once she had pledged herself to another. Whether she loved whomever she chose was irrelevant.

Two paths lay before Jak. Both promised to end in animosity and regret, but a thin boundary demarking righteous versus self-serving action made the choice inevitable for White Paw.

"I am with you, Vaun. Tell me how you intend to proceed."

"Thank you. You can help me enlist Esseff, Tigan, and Camorra to our side. We can never break the queen's will without their help."

"What of Cat and Jorveth?"

"Camorra is the key to Jorveth, where she goes, he will follow. Cat...well, not only had I thought she would be unlikely to care enough to cooperate...I...I don't like her ,and I am sure that she despises me. That is a poor reason, I know, especially since Airy...the queen I mean...is surprisingly willing to accept Cat's advice. Perhaps we should include her, too."

"I agree. How should we recruit them?"

"Secretively, like how we are meeting now. I will talk to the Fox. He will be the easiest to sway, I think. Intrigue comes naturally to him, and he is very pragmatic. You will have better luck with Tigan and Camorra than I will since you have spent far more time with them during your travels. I feel like I am asking you to do more than your fair share, but Cat also seems more inclined to be persuaded by you."

"Perhaps, but she is also inclined to ask favors of me that I do not wish to grant."

Vaun's puzzlement was obvious even with his face muffled by cold weather clothes.

"There is the risk that she will turn you down," explained Jak, "but amorous intentions will not cloud any dealings between the two of you."

"Ah, I see," said Vaun finally understanding Jak's meaning. "She barely ever speaks to me let alone proposes anything immoral. Very well. I shall make the attempt."

"And I'll do my part. When do we plan to confront the queen?"

"Before the mid-winter festival of Foryisadortcha. She must choose by then so that we have time to spread the word among the dukes of the West, shore up our alliances, and be prepared the moment this cursed winter ends to counter whatever reaction the AR and priests have to news of her betrothal. If Airy selects her king from House Perseine as I fear...no...hope...she might, we will need to rush to my father's support immediately."

"It shall be done. I will speak to Camorra today."

Jak departed with a heavy heart knowing the divide Olivia had created between Airy and he was becoming unbridgeable. Vaun remained for a while longer equally certain that he was doomed to lose Airy forever. Only the genuine threat of frostbite finally encouraged him to seek shelter.

Upon seeing that his commander had finally gone, the shivering watchman took one final peek over the battlements before vowing to stay by his fire until the span of his vigil was complete.

During the months spent fighting the western campaign, an invisible tension arose between Camorra and Sparks that resonated like a taught bowstring whenever the two were together. Jorveth was the common object of their unspoken discord.

The causes were many, but its roots grew and thrived in the long, travel-induced absences that Camorra's new duties required. Negotiating peace treaties on the queen's behalf in the wake of Vaun and White Paw's conquests separated Camorra and Jorveth for weeks at a time. The brief interludes she was afforded at River Keep were dominated by discussions with the queen.

Romantic encounters with Jorveth fell in frequency to the point where she was having difficulty remembering the last time they had made love. Winter had promised to be a period of rest during which she hoped to spend time with Jorveth and help him recover from his injuries, but the fallout from the queen's defeat at Dome Hill initiated an urgent need to resume her rounds of the northwestern provinces to preserve failing alliances.

Because Jorveth remained unable to walk even with a cane and the support of a metal brace on his crippled leg, many simple physical tasks were too difficult for him to accomplish on his own. He required a full time nurse, and Sparks proved he was capable of filling Jorveth's needs while Camorra was absent. The diminutive Wolf's willingness to care for her lover had, at first, seemed a Maker sent blessing striking a harmonious chord to assuage her guilt over abandoning Jorveth for her duty to the queen, but dissonance manifested gradually and grew steadily with each brief stay she was afforded in River Keep.

Not until her most recent homecoming did the discord achieve a tone that that invaded her conscious mind. In a moment of thoughtful reflection, she realized that signs heralding the developing relationship between Wolf and Horse had been present from the beginning. Tigan's special powers were not required to predict the inevitable conclusion. Jorveth had been vulnerable after the death of Vetskap. Searching for a substitute for his lost companion, Jorveth fused emotionally to Sparks, who exhibited similar favorable traits as the feral: devotion, loyalty, harmlessness, and abundant love. Though unexpected, the intense bond between nurse and patient became undeniable.

What began as a convenient arrangement, metamorphosed into mutual codependency. Subtle signs betraying the truth emerged as the weeks and months passed. Sparks never left Jorveth's side; he even slept on a fur rug at the foot of Jorveth's bed. Whenever Camorra sent the Wolf away to enjoy a private moment with her love, Jorveth became agitated; his distress so intense that he could not concentrate. Vetskap's death had triggered something within the Horse with which he could not cope. Sparks had become a substitute for the feral providing whatever solace Jorveth's innocent soul required.

Camorra berated herself for not dealing with the situation sooner. Anger and resentment consumed her now that the reality was beyond doubt. In her absence, Sparks had stolen the role of Jorveth's caretaker and companion that she had filled for years. Impulsively, she vowed to send Sparks far away, back to the Packlands if necessary, so Jorveth would forget him and rely on her instead. Further reflection revealed the absurdity of that reaction. The demands of her position in the queen's court left her no time to continue what had been her duty in earlier times when she was Jorveth's slave. To banish Sparks would only leave the naïve inventor alone and unable to cope with Wolves and Rabbits just as she had first found him adrift and isolated among the war-like Horses of Storfay.

Hours of private, cogent meditation revealed to her additional disconcerting truths. Camorra was no longer a slave obligated to serve or care for her master. Certainly, both Jorveth and she had profited from their intimate arrangement. He acquired someone to help him navigate the world of interpersonal relations, and she earned a kinder master and eventually her freedom, but it was not a real union of two hearts. Though she had come to love him, the obtuse Horse was incapable of returning the sophistication of emotion required for something as deep and complicated as romantic love.

Her devotion for Jorveth had ever been one sided and never fully requited. Jorveth could not possibly love her beyond the way a small child selfishly loves his mother. Accepting that their relationship would always be emotionally unequal had been painful, but her newfound work for the queen provided solace. Statecraft was rapidly becoming the true love and preeminent core of her life. Less capacity remained within her for matters of the heart. If not what she desired, what she discovered was something with which she could abide. It was now evident that Jorveth had more capacity to feel than she had thought possible or was likely to be able to satisfy anymore. Hoarding what little affection Jorveth was capable of expressing was a petty act of selfishness she resolved to cast aside in deference to the better angels of her nature.

Though invisible to Jorveth, Sparks' needs and desires were transparent to Camorra. The Wolf sought what she had acquired long ago and still hoped to retain - the honor to serve and love a great person. Too mentally and emotionally disciplined to fall prey to jealousy, Camorra resolved not to stand in the way of whatever happiness could exist between her rival and her lover. Determined instead to encourage it, she confronted Sparks while Jorveth was in his bath soaking away the pain in his lame leg contented to spend an idle hour indulging in Olivia's book. Lost in esoteric contemplation, he was sufficiently distracted for Camorra to drag Sparks from his side.

"Sparks?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you come help me with organizing some papers while Jorveth has his bath?"

"Certainly, ma'am."

The scrawny Wolf dutifully followed her from the kitchen that doubled as a bath chamber into the main sitting room, but looked askance at the Cow as she shut the door behind them.

"You are aware that Jorveth and I are lovers and have been for years," Camorra stated matter of factly.

"I am," Sparks admitted warily while nervously shuffling his hindpaws on the floor.

"I have been watching how you interact with Jorveth. You have affectionate feelings towards him, too, don't you?"

Terror gripped the Wolf. He fell to the floor, adopting his people's most submissive posture at her feet hoping to deflect the otherwise gentle Cow's fury over his insolence.

Having not intended to scare or intimidate Jorveth's poor apprentice, Camorra softened her demeanor. She lowered herself to her knees and raised Spark's torso so that they faced each other as equals. Small droplets of moisture formed at the corner of Spark's eyes nonetheless as he anticipated a harsh reprimand for his wicked behavior.

"I did not mean that as an accusation or a threat of punishment," said Camorra as soothingly as she could.

"No?"

"No."

Camorra placed her hands on Spark's cheeks and wiped the nascent tears away with her thumbs.

"I harbor no resentment in my heart for you. To the contrary, I am grateful for the devotion you have shown Jorveth during his time of healing. Your love is helping him, and I perceive that as a gain and not a loss for me."

Confused and an unable to believe her intent, Spark's tail curled protectively around his hips.

"I don't understand. You're not angry?"

"Truly, I am not. Smell me. I won't be offended."

The dainty Wolf tentatively inhaled her scent. No trace of fraud or deceit could he find. His tail began a gentle thumping of the floor.

"You won't send me away?"

"On the contrary, I want to encourage you to stay and to take your relationship farther together."

A hesitant smile formed, then was lost as he sobbed with relief.

"I don't know what to say. Are you certain? The Rabbits don't share mates readily. Is this not the case for Cattle folk?"

"To a certain extent, monogamy is a virtue among my people also, but that is irrelevant to my relationship with Jorveth.

"So, you aren't jealous?"

"Of course I am jealous, but what matter is that? Jorveth places no restrictions on my relationships with others, why should I do so with him? He is special, as I am sure that you are aware, and does not experience jealousy or many emotions at all."

Reflecting upon his numerous failures to arouse the Horse, Spark's tail ceased its happy dance.

"I know. He is completely unresponsive to everything I try. The other assistants laugh at me, but I can't give up even though I have no idea what to do."

"It's ok, Sparks, and understandable. Like everyone, you approach Jorveth assuming he is normal. He's not. To encourage him into a lover's intimacy, you must approach him on his level with his interests in mind."

"I don't understand."

"Then it is fortunate for you that I do and that I am willing to impart my secret to you, but you must swear to tell it to no one else. If you do and Jorveth is ever hurt by your betrayal, my wrath will be terrible."

Though her expression remained friendly, the truth of that statement was an olfactory blow to Spark's nose. With ears laid flat and his tail curled tight again around his waist, the effeminate Wolf could not have looked more contrite or sincere.

"I promise, ma'am, before Olivia the Maker. I want desperately to earn your trust."

"I don't have your ability to smell truth from lies, only the skills I have honed over many years among nobility and their intrigues. I think they will suffice. In you, I see an ally and an intimate friend. I believe you."

Spark's physical transformation was instantaneous. His ears stood erect and his tail swept the floor in its eagerness to celebrate. Camorra opened her arms, and he accepted her hug.

"I won't disappoint you, ma'am."

"More importantly, you mustn't disappoint Jorveth. Now here is the secret..."

Camorra closed the door to the bath chamber just as a knock sounded at her front door. Smiling, she hoped Sparks and Jorveth conducted their '_business'_quietly while she spoke with her unexpected guest.

It was White Paw who sought her company. Before entering, he gave thanks to the stoic Rabbit guards standing outside for keeping watch and asked that he and Camorra not be disturbed.

"This is an honor, mighty White Paw," said Camorra wondering what business brought the chief of all Wolf chiefs to her door rather than to the usual confines of a formal meeting in the castle's central keep.

"Jak. Call me Jak, please, Camorra. We have travelled and shared peril together as equals. There is no need for formality when we are alone."

"Of course, Jak. May I serve you some wine?"

"Yes. Please. It will help facilitate a delicate discussion. I need to speak with you about the matter of a royal marriage..."

Heated by a collection of metal pipes connected to a cauldron of hot water hanging over the fire in the largest of the kitchen's two fireplaces, Jorveth's bath tub required little effort to keep warm. A siphon system controlled by several small valves allowed the Horse or his nurse to exchange the hot water over the fire with the water in his bath in a nearly continuous trickle that maintained the perfect temperature.

Comfortable and engrossed with his magic book, Jorveth was oblivious at first to Sparks' reappearance. When he did notice the Wolf, he requested water to drink. Eager to please, Sparks quickly complied then stood nervously watching Jorveth while trying to find the courage to proceed with his intent. Now that he was hovering so close to his goal, feelings of awkwardness competed with the rush of his desire. Always the smallest and weakest in the pack, never before had he played any part in a sexual encounter other than that of submissive. He had always been the willing, and sometimes unwilling, source of pleasure for other low status males who had no access to females, but more often he lifted his tail on demand for those who shared his assessment of females as unappealing sexual partners.

Sparks had grown comfortable with the role of coy seducer, but the equine target of his affection was unresponsive to subtlety. The circumstances required that Sparks be aggressive, but uncertainty eroded his confidence, and fear of failure made him hesitate. His lack of familiarity with the nuances of his master's equipment added to his indecision. Sparks had helped Jorveth undress many times, but the inventor's shaft had always remained sheathed. Common wisdom held that Horses were exceptionally well endowed. The lusty little Wolf looked forward to that, but worried over what he didn't know. Camorra had not discussed those details with him. Thus, he was ignorant of the location of the Horse's most sensitive regions and whether to be rough or gentle. Too many unanswered questions disturbed his fevered brain.

Taking three deep breaths to calm himself, he closed his eyes, prayed to Olivia to guide his paws, unfastened his kilt and loinwrap, and let them drop to the floor. The red tip of his prick was already peeking out of its casing dispelling his fearing that he would be too anxious to perform. Relief soothed his tense muscles and let him relax enough to proceed. With his legs crossed, Sparks fussed nervously holding his tail so it covered his loins.

"Uhm, Jorveth?"

The Horse looked up from his book and captured his assistant's nakedness with the same impassive, analytical assessment he gave everything and everyone.

"What?"

"May...may I join you in the bath?"

Sparks knew it was an unusual request, so he added what he hoped was an acceptable pretense.

"My pelt is dusty, and I thought it would be efficient for me to scrub myself and you at the same time."

"Certainly," Jorveth replied oblivious to Spark's motive. "You are small, and there is room."

Excited by Jorveth's assent, Sparks let go of his tail and moved toward the tub.

"But wait..."

Halting at Jorveth's command, Spark's worried that his partial erection had given offense, but his master wasn't even looking at him. Instead, the Horse measured the distance between the water surface and the rim of the tub with his thumb. Estimating his assistant's weight and size, he calculated the resultant volume of water his companion would displace.

"There is enough capacity to prevent overtopping. You may enter."

Understanding his master's need for tidy precision, Sparks lowered himself gingerly into the delightfully warm water to avoid creating waves beyond a few minor ripples that crested an inch short of the tub's rim. Sparks positioned himself on his knees between Jorveth's long legs and immersed himself until his chin was a whisker's width above the water.

"Would you like me to massage your leg?" he asked quickly to avoid losing his nerve.

Jorveth had begun reading again. He did not look up.

"Yes. I am very stiff today."

The accidental double entendre made Spark glance down at his own groin to realize he was now fully erect. Suppressing a giggle, he pondered how to transfer the Horse's achy stiffness in his lame leg to a more stimulating part of his anatomy. Placing his paws on the inventor's crippled thigh, Sparks worked at loosening the muscles. His gaze remained fixed on Jorveth's flaccid sex through the clear water as he mustered his courage to advance from lowly nurse to the coveted status of lover.

"Jorveth, would you like to play a game?"

Glancing over the top of his book, the Horse gave Sparks a skeptical gaze.

"Game? Not particularly. The knowledge in this book is all I need to amuse myself."

Though unintentional, the rebuke still stung and made Sparks hesitate. Thinking about Camorra's encouraging words restored his determination.

"What about a mathematical game?"

Jorveth closed the book, set it on a small table aside the tub, and gave Sparks his attention.

"You need more math practice?"

"Yes."

Even though his response was truthful, Sparks was glad Jorveth was not a Wolf with the ability to smell the deeper deceit hidden beneath that simple affirmative.

"How about completing some number series?" asked Jorveth.

Jorveth's puzzles were difficult, but Sparks was good with series, so he nodded eagerly. Trying to draw the Horse fully into the game, Sparks asked his master to go first.

"4, 6, 12, 18, 30, 42, 60, 72, 102, 108," was Jorveth's immediate response.

All of the numbers were even, and that relationship steered Sparks astray until he focused on the lack of odd integers. That led him to consider prime numbers, and the solution became obvious.

"130, 150, 180. Do I need to go on?"

"No. Explain the answer."

"Prime numbers bound each number in the series."

"Correct."

There was no emotion behind the praise, but for Sparks, every positive affirmation from Jorveth aroused pure joy. The Wolf's tail unconsciously began wagging, creating waves in the tub, and his forepaws kneaded Jorveth's thigh with greater force. Jorveth winced and exhaled as the muscle responded from the curious mixture of pleasure and pain that massages often induced.

"My turn," said Sparks with enthusiasm. "77, 49, 36, 18."

Sparks had thought of this series on his own earlier and hoped it would confound Jorveth, but the Horse replied immediately with the correct answer.

"Eight. You are multiplying the two digits of each number together to arrive at the next number."

Disappointment at the ease with which his master solved the problem was offset when Spark's paw, left to roam without conscious control, brushed against Jorveth's sheath and felt a responsive nudge in return. Surprised, Sparks recoiled until he remembered Camorra's advice regarding the secret purpose of the game.

"Your turn," Sparks replied nearly breathless with expectation as he continued the massage with one paw while letting the other rub gently against the slowly lengthening target of his fancy.

"2, 9, 3, 1, 8, 4, 3, 6, 5, 7," offered the Horse.

Jorveth gave no indication that he was aware of Spark's erotic transgression. For Sparks, concentrating on the series became problematic as lust clouded his mind. The tube of equine flesh was growing steadily, and its size, everything he had imagined, and unique shape were distracting. Unlike the angled, chisel-like taper of his own cock, Jorveth's was flared and blunt like a giant's version of the pestle in their lab used in conjunction with a mortar to pound and grind materials into powder.

The concept of his master employing that massive, blunt tool to pound and grind his insides made Sparks momentarily forget the puzzle and worry that he had just lost the game. It was an unwritten rule that the series, once given, was never repeated. Asking was the same as getting it wrong. It was fortunate that the effeminate Wolf had a native affinity for numbers. With a conscious will, he resurrected the set Jorveth had proffered and began unconsciously stroking the Horse's long, rigid pole whose tip was now protruding above the water line.

It was a confusing numerical sequence that rose and fell like Spark's naughty left paw but without the easily repeatable rhythm. Anxious that he would stumble and end the game, the Wolf bent his entire mental prowess on the puzzle, but his strenuous efforts proved ineffective.

Having found that he sometimes stumbled upon his best ideas in the lab when he wasn't concentrating on the problem at hand but on something unrelated, he allowed his mind to wander as it pleased between the pleasure of the moment and sorting through numerous mathematical relationships.

Rubbing his eager sapling against Jorveth's mighty trunk, separated only by a thin film of water, generated a soft, ticklish caress. As they glided against each other, Sparks shuddered and lost what remained of his concentration. Curiously, it was during this euphoric moment that tangential musings led him to consider how it was possible for the brain to experience two different realities simultaneously. The sequence was, in truth, two sequences intertwined like snakes locked in a mating embrace. Delighted to discover he could lose himself in sexual ecstasy while performing mental gymnastics, Sparks' dared move to the next level. He stood as he gave his response, positioning his tailhole to receive its prize.

"Two. The first series is 2, 3, 4, 5... The second series is 9, 18, 36, 72..."

"You are improving," observed Jorveth.

The compliment gave Sparks nearly as much pleasure as the parting of his buttocks by each glorious inch of self-impalement upon Jorveth's staff. Never having attempted taking something so lengthy and thick before, Sparks paused frequently to let the muscles surrounding his tailhole relax, avoiding the natural instinct to repel the intruding colossus.

"It's your turn, Sparks," prompted Jorveth.

Lost in hedonistic indulgence, the Wolf had forgotten the game. Wishing the puzzles were unnecessary to keep his master stimulated, Sparks tried ignoring Jorveth's needs, but that was too contrary to his nature. Instead, he rummaged through his repertoire of mathematical concepts to think of a puzzle even Jorveth might find difficult. What he found in the distal part of his mind surprised himself.

"100, 121, 144, 20, 244..."

It worked. Jorveth grew silent and thoughtful allowing Sparks to fully enjoy the entire length of his wonderful new toy. Lifting himself up and then gliding back down, he repeated the motion without restraint. By the time he heard Jorveth's answer of "400" and the beginnings of his explanation, "100 in base ten equals 100 in base ten, 121 in base nine equals eighty-one plus eighteen plus one = 100 in base ten..." Sparks felt Jorveth squirting his load inside of his guts. The rush of warm fluid provoked his turgid tool to follow its leader. Sparks sprayed his seed with enough force that much of it escaped the tub to splatter on the floor. What hit the water's surface coalesced into floating islands of gooey cream.

Once again braving the season's icy embrace, Vaun waited in the saddle of his warhorse just within the cover of the woods. The locale chosen for his second clandestine meeting of the day had been a random one, and yet something about it was elusively familiar. A dusting of snow and ice coated everything lending a sameness to the ground, trees, rocks, and shrubs as though they had all been carved out of a single piece of marble by a lunatic sculptor. Many minutes of silent study passed before he recognized he was near where White Paw and his young bugler had hidden before Airy's trap was sprung upon the hapless AR.

Not caring for history or the future, Vaun's mount stamped its hooves impatiently and snorted white clouds into the frozen air clearly eager for his master's inconvenient mission to end so that they could return to the relative warmth and comfort of the stables where hay and oats aplenty awaited. In contrast, Esseff's mount, when it finally bore the Fox into the Rabbit general's company, was warm from the exertion of its recent ride from the keep. The dappled mare was content to stop and enjoy a brief rest. The spymaster upon her back was not.

"What is the purpose of this surreptitious meeting, General?" demanded the Fox not bothering to disguise his annoyance.

Sensing they were not alone, Vaun scanned the surrounding woods, briefly glimpsing a furtive silhouette about thirty yards away. Noticing the general's alarm, Esseff endeavored to reassure him.

"No need to worry. It is only Mislei. She is ensuring that we are neither espied nor overheard. I assumed that is want you want having chosen to meet outside...in the woods...in the cold."

Despite their isolation, Vaun spoke quietly.

"Her presence does not comfort me, Fox. I've heard stories about her and the boy."

"Which are most likely true, but irrelevant. They answer to and obey me. You have nothing to fear from them."

"Fear isn't what I meant. Disgust is a better word, but I am satisfied they do only your bidding and that you and they are on our side."

"I am grateful to hear I have your confidence."

Esseff's sarcasm was not lost on Vaun, but he ignored it.

"More importantly to my needs, you have the confidence of the queen."

Esseff grimaced, doubting the veracity of Vaun's claim. Though he had great responsibility and freedom of action on Airy's behalf, she often had truth-scenting Wolves present whenever he spoke with her. He suspected Cat continued to poison the queen's opinion against him.

"Only just."

Vaun was surprised by the Fox's humility.

"It is well known that you serve the queen faithfully, are loyal to her, and provide invaluable security and intelligence."

Contemptuous of flattery and irritated by the reminder of the queen's suspicions, by Cat's continued disdain, and by the unrelenting chill, Esseff's response was abrupt.

"And that is why I have her grudging confidence. What is the point of this interrogation?"

"I apologize if I gave the impression of prying into your affairs. My intent was to highlight our common devotion to the queen. Establishing that before discussing actions that might be perceived as...putting that loyalty in question...is important, don't you think?"

Esseff's ears swiveled forward with interest, doubts surrounding his allegiance and faithfulness forgotten.

"That is an intriguing statement from you. You have my attention."

"The queen is sovereign. Her commands are law, but not everything she commands is necessarily wise or correct."

"You surprise me more. I never expected such subtlety from you."

"Do not mock me, Fox. I am in earnest."

"I can tell that you are. Please continue, and explain why you are discussing treason with the one person most obligated to betray you to the queen."

A succinctly as he could, Vaun outlined his concerns regarding the perils to their cause if Airy did not marry. After listening patiently, Esseff smiled smugly. Harboring secret knowledge, he looked forward to a little fun at the general's expense.

"All that you have said is known to me including your assessment that the queen is being foolish. I agree, but what can we do? She has forbade further discussion on the topic and locked herself away unreachable in her quarters protected by her own personal and very loyal guards."

"And that is why we must use force to make her listen and to act. We cannot, in good conscience, let her destroy herself in this way. If enough of us band together on this, we have a chance of prevailing."

"At great personal cost."

"I won't deny that some of us may not survive this. You and I are especially vulnerable, but she can't banish White Paw. Jorveth is irreplaceable, and he and Camorra are inseparable."

Esseff shook his head while donning his most condescending smirk.

"You think you are being clever, but what you propose is the crudest and most direct approach to our problem. As likely as not, someone will die, and then where will we be? Intrigue is not your forte, General. I suggest you leave subterfuge to the experts and save your talents for the battlefield where bluntness of expression is valued."

Vaun's ears drooped in response to the Fox's stinging reproach.

"Don't despair, General," consoled Esseff. "By luck, you happen to have summoned just such an expert." Esseff placed his right paw upon his breast to emphasize of whom he spoke. "Let me solve your problem."

Wary but hopeful, Vaun replied with cautious optimism.

"You have a better idea?"

"Not just an idea, General, a solution."

Believing correctly that the Fox was privy to knowledge that could resolve his dilemma, Vaun practically begged to hear it.

"What is this solution? Tell me."

"Two of Dypholones' envoys arrived just hours ago with a peace proposal from the Anti-Royalists."

Vaun's ears stood upright again and twitched in confusion.

"Peace? What has that do with...Why would the AR offer that? Why now?"

"I suspect that they realize, as we do, that the current stalemate only benefits the Church. Unless either the queen or the AR triumphs soon, both sides will wear themselves down assuring the priests of victory."

"What is Dypholones' proposal?"

"Among other unpalatable demands, Queen Airiphryone selects Dypholones as her king and marries him, thus uniting all of the north."

Stunned by the audacity of the offer, Vaun remained speechless for a dozen heartbeats as though he had become one with the frozen landscape. When he recovered, his previously conspiratorial voice became a shout.

"By the Maker! Does the queen know?"

"Not the details. Only that that the AR is proposing peace. Before she discovers the rest, I want an opportunity to have a reasonable discussion on the merits of this proposal. I have many concerns with it, but can't dismiss the basic premise. A meeting with the queen has been arranged for this afternoon, and she has agreed to attend. You are, of course, a required attendee. White Paw, Camorra, Jorveth, Cat, and Tigan will also be there. In the event that the queen is suspicious that this is a pretext to trick her into your conversation about her nuptial prospects, I'll add Milikes and Bear to the mix to give the impression we will be discussing strategy not suitors."

Grinning smugly, Esseff put his forefinger and little finger to his lips and blew a shrill whistle as a signal to his lurking companion.

"See, General, how easy life is when you leave these matters to the experts? You now have your chance to talk to the queen. You even have a logical husband to recommend to her. Problem solved. Your wish has been granted without a messy rebellion."

Too stunned to reply, Vaun stared open mouthed while trying to digest this calamitous news. Dypholones was, in his opinion, a horrible candidate for king, but Esseff was not staying to debate the AR general's merits as a suitable mate for Airy. Tugging at the reigns of his horse, he goaded her back towards the castle. Before the Fox left, he added a parting instruction.

"Wait at least fifteen minutes before following me. It's best if we aren't seen together, for obvious reasons. Mislei will keep you safe if not warm."

With a kick to his mount's flanks, the Fox departed. Vaun recovered from his mental paralysis in time to shout after Esseff's diminishing form.

"But this isn't what I wished for at all."

Cynical laughter accompanied the Fox's faint reply.

"Life's cruel, General. We don't always get what we want."

Having gained Camorra's ardent acceptance to help persuade the queen, Jak thanked her. Camorra escorted him to the door, where they discovered an angry Dryphythus outside pacing impatiently through the dirty snow in the street.

"The guards wouldn't let me in," complained the young buck glaring first at the tall Rabbit sentry and then at the pale gray Wolfess, who shared guard duty. "I told them this was urgent business ordered by Esseff and the queen, but they said you two were not to be disturbed. Now I'm going to be in trouble if you two are late."

"Late to what, my dear?" asked Camorra trying to calm down the agitated kit.

"Secret meeting about something to do with the AR."

"When?" asked Jak.

"An hour after noon today."

"This is fortuitous, but it accelerates our schedule."

"What schedule?" wondered Dryphythus.

Jak ushered the young buck inside Camorra's house and shut the door.

"I need you to follow my orders the same as you did when we went into battle together. Can you do that?"

Dryphythus nodded his head nervously, remembering the terror of that day.

"Good. Now, I must find Tigan quickly. She travels constantly but is back here in River Keep I have been told, but I don't know where; most likely performing for a crowd. We will need to split up and search all the alehouses, barracks, and meeting halls - anywhere she can find an audience."

"I have friends, other young bucks and warriors, who can help. What message should they give her when they find her?"

"None. Just come to my quarters and tell me where she is. I will talk to her."

"I can help, too," added Camorra. "Jorveth has assistants who do nothing but run errands and fetch things for him. Once he is done with his bath, I'll ask to borrow a few to aid in the search."

After Jak and Dryphythus departed, Camorra dithered over whether to wait for Jorveth and Sparks to be done with whatever they were doing in the kitchen, or interrupt them to hasten the search for Tigan. Fortuitously, Sparks emerged saving her the worry. Of greater delight, though, was seeing Jorveth walking on his own with only the assistance of his cane metal leg brace. He was unsteady and slow, but this was an exciting moment indeed.

"Jorveth, you can walk again! How marvelous."

"Yes. Sparks has been helping me with short walks across the room for weeks now, but today I feel I have the strength to try for more distance. I hope to be able to make it to the lab on my own power."

Noticing the way that Sparks had fetched the wheeled chair and moved to support Jorveth, Camorra doubted her lover would be allowed to make the attempt completely unassisted.

"Did you have a nice bath, dear?" she asked before kissing Jorveth on the cheek.

"I am clean, my leg bothers me less, and I learned much about the history and evolution of this world from Olivia's book, so yes."

His stoic expression revealed nothing untoward concerning any other noteworthy occurrences while bathing, but Sparks' sheepish grin and flushed cheeks belied a different story.

"How about you, Sparks? You must have washed up also. You're fur is so shiny. In fact I'd say you are positively glowing."

A silent understanding passed between the Cow and the Wolf; their mutually shared lover remained clueless of the exchange.

"Yes, ma'am, I am clean and feeling better than ever. Thank you."

Letting go of Jorveth was difficult, but Sparks could not resist giving Camorra a heartfelt hug.

"Thank you for this wonderful gift," he whispered in her ear, but secrecy was unnecessary. Jorveth paid neither any heed as he began his awkward shamble towards the door until he stopped half way and turned back to gaze into Camorra's eyes with unusual directness and intensity.

"Camorra...," began Jorveth clearly uncertain of his own thoughts. "...I miss you every time you are away. I need help with so many things now. I would prefer you not travel so much."

The simple confession stunned Camorra. Such admissions from Jorveth had been so rare; she could remember every one he had ever uttered during their years together. This instance was added to her meager collection of treasured memories. The affirmation was all the proof she needed to know that she had done the right thing.

"It can't be helped, love. The queen needs me just as she needs you, but you have Sparks around when I am gone."

Jorveth remained uncertain.

"Is that acceptable...to you, I mean?"

"It is, but what about you, love? What do you want?"

Jorveth paused, thinking longer and with greater effort than he required for the most difficult technical challenges.

"I want you and Sparks," he said at last. "It is important that the queen promise to keep you both safe. Will you ask her to do that?"

"I can do that today. I am talking to her this afternoon. Speaking of which, may I use your errand-running assistants to help me find Tigan for that meeting? It will occupy them for no more than an hour or two."

Jorveth nodded. Satisfied that whatever had been distressing him was resolved, he began ambling towards the door again.

"I'll ensure he gets to the lab without falling or over exerting himself," said Sparks to Camorra as he followed his master with the mobile chair. "Everyone will be so happy to see the master walking on his own again."

Camorra sighed after they were gone, done wondering if she had lost a lover. It was evident that she had gained a new partner instead.

As nervous as a feral hare caught in the open with an eagle soaring overhead, Wyn crept through the halls of River Keep's central tower trying to avoid being seen. The queen wished to know the contents of the AR courier's letter before the meeting. Having no one else she could trust, Airy sent her pawmaiden. Unable to refuse a command, the terrified young doe set out with no clear plan other than to go to the Fox's office and hope for a chance to sneak a peek at the document. She had hoped to enlist Dryphythus to help her, but he was elsewhere.

Alone, Wyn was certain that her mission would be discovered and that she would land in serious trouble, queen's orders notwithstanding. Thus, she hid herself at the slightest sound of anyone approaching. Cowering within the storage compartment beneath a bench after hearing raised voices, serendipity bestowed upon her the goal of her quest. Cat and Vaunorthoses paused by her hiding place to hold their argumentative debate. Vaun's plea to Cat contained all the information the queen desired. Wyn was elated by her inadvertent success, but also scared that the General and the quarrelsome feline would come to blows when she rudely rebuffed Vaunorthoses.

"Vhat do I care who bunyic marries? All Rabbit bucks are snobbish, imperious bores. That includes not just Dypholones, but you too, ufudd. You vant her for yourself, then you are on your own."

"Ufudd? What does that mean? Are you insulting me?"

"Are you dense? Of course I am. Is Cat word for vhat you are, and I don't vork for stupid ufudd. I take orders from Volf chief and bunyic qveen. No vun else, so fuck off and chase after her tail yourself."

"No. Wait. You don't understand..."

To Wyn's relief, Cat stalked off with Vaun in pursuit trying futilely to better explain his intentions. Neither had any idea she had overheard every word and was now returning to her mistress with their secrets.

Arriving last, Vaun was pleased to note that the required participants were all present in the war room including Cat. White Paw had talked to her after his failure, and secured her cooperation. Airy had not yet arrived, but her absence was a plus because he had not had time to explain the situation to Milikes or Bear. White Paw was finishing that task as Vaun took his seat.

"Are you with us on this?" asked Jak.

"You are my chief," answered Bear. "Where you lead, I follow."

Milikes was less immediate in his acquiescence.

"Read the document please. I will know what other price we must pay for peace before I respond."

After a moment of tense silence, Jak and Vaun nodded to Camorra, who rose and demurely cleared her throat.

"Whereas the great nation of Rikifur is presently sundered by civil war consisting of three primary factions known as the Knights of Freedom..."

"Who are they?" interrupted Bear.

"That is what the Anti-Royalists call themselves," answered White Paw. "Now stay quiet. Camorra, please continue."

"...the Queen, and the Church, and whereas the Knights of Freedom and the Queen are both imbued with divine rights to rule giving them common cause against the Church, which has overstepped its authority by refusing to recognize the Maker imbued natural order of Royal succession, it is proposed that the two factions known as the Knights of Freedom and the Queen cease all hostilities towards each other in a permanent and lasting peace subject to the following conditions:

"Queen, Airiphryone of House Chortaghentos shall be restored as rightful sovereign of Rikifur.

"All duties, lands, and offices belonging to her family shall be restored to her and her descendants.

"The queen shall choose as her king Duke Dypholones, and they shall be married in an official ceremony before becoming signatories to this treaty."

"The power of the queen and her chosen king shall be as before with the exception of the creation of a Parliament consisting of the recognized dukes of the sundry recognized provinces of Rikifur. This parliament shall have the power to tax and create laws to put before the sovereign for approval. The sovereign's decisions on such laws and taxes are absolute. The sovereign shall retain the powers of declarations of war and peace, enforcing the laws through the appointment of courts and judges to determine disputes, and selecting the leaders of the Church."

Finished, Camorra laid the parchment upon the table in front of Milikes in case he wished to read it for himself. He trusted her enough that there was no need. He only gestured to it with contempt.

"This is a patent power grab by Dypholones. I wonder what the other Duke's think of him as king. Either he is doing this without their consent, or he must feel confident he has a strong paw indeed."

"We don't know whether or not he has consulted the rest of his coalition on this treaty proposal," admitted Camorra.

"What difference does it make?" countered Milikes. "There is no chance that the queen will marry someone she so despises."

His pessimistic assessment set off a heated discussion. The merits and disadvantages of the proposal were bandied about in confused and loud discussion. Debate only ended when the door to Airy's chambers opened. A hush fell over the participants that only deepened when Wyn poked her head past the door before shyly entering the room and closing it behind her.

"Where is the queen?" demanded Vaunorthoses.

Wyn's evident nervousness nearly turned to panic in the face of the General's harsh tone. Camorra rushed to her defense.

"Please, General. You are scaring her. Let the child speak. Go ahead, Wyn."

"Um...Her...Her Majesty has commanded me to attend this meeting in her place...and...and...convey her orders concerning the proposal in question."

Their response to her statement was worse than Wyn feared. Wishing only to escape the angry chaos it caused, she thought of slipping back through the door, but the queen's wrath awaited her there if she left her task unfinished. Camorra's assurances and calls for quiet provided the calming effect Wyn needed to speak again, and when she did, the queen's words tumbled out in rapid succession.

"The queen asked me to say that she knows the contents of Dypholones' proposal. Unconditional surrender is the only term she will accept from the Anti-Royalists. They must accept that or be prepared to be annihilated in the spring. This generous offer will be rescinded if they continue to defy her."

"But..." began Vaun, but Wyn, emboldened by the authority of the queen's voice cut him off.

"Her Majesty instructed me to declare that there will be no further debate on this matter. If the AR emissaries are willing to accept her terms, you may draft a surrender treaty for them to sign. Otherwise, send them back."

Having completed her daunting task, Wyn slipped back through the door leaving a stunned silence and a ring of somber faces. Once behind the safety of the door, she collapsed to the floor shaking with relief and exhaustion.

[End of Chapter]